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A story written by Pete Brown (Part 12 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)


Jake leaned forward so I felt his clothes against my naked back and butt and whispered “All you have to do is serve drinks for Ray and Stu. Now, go forward, kneel, and ask them what they’d like.”

I’d never felt so stupid and humiliated as I took a couple more paces forward towards the couch. I stood there hesitantly, observing Ray and Stu looking at my dick, and I was so conscious of the fact that with my pubes clipped so short and with the gold ring and chains on it I was no longer really a male as you might see in a locker room, proud of his physique, but some sort of show piece that had been contrived for their enjoyment. “Go on, Steve”, Jake called softly, and yet somehow urgently. Then “…please.” He sounded almost desperate now, and I found myself responding in some way to his plight. I went down on to one knee, and then the other.

Ray and Stu had the young slave Kenny sitting between them, their arms linked around his bare shoulders. He too was looking at me, and I wondered what indignities he had had to suffer in his young life – I’d watched him suck their dicks, but now all three were simply sitting there resting, and looking satisfied.

“I don’t think I want any more to drink tonight”, Ray said to Stu quite casually, as if he’d been speaking in a fancy restaurant and a waiter had come for a further order and this as perfectly normal. “Do you?”

Stu’s reply was equally relaxed and unconcerned. “No, I think not. I’ve got a key meeting of the finance committee of the board tomorrow, and I need to be alert.”

“OK, Steve”, Ray said. “So no serving drinks. Why don’t you go back to Jake and kiss and make up? You look a little pissed off at what he’s done to you.”

I was blushing furiously, and I wasn’t just pissed off, I was outraged. But kneeling there naked in front of the two men, big, powerful (in every sense of the word) men, I seemed to have lost the power to say anything – or was I afraid to say anything, or ashamed… I couldn’t truly analyse my feelings. So I got to my feet, turned, and took a couple of steps towards Jake who was standing in front of the other couch.

He opened his arms as I stopped, then moved forward a little, wrapped them around me and pulled me close. The buttons on his shirt and his belt buckle pressed into my naked skin. “It’s OK, Steve…” His voice was low and sensual as he pressed his head towards my shoulder, and his lips were close to my ear. I could feel his hot breath on me. “Come on, come over here, let’s just relax….” He pulled me back and we sat beside each other on the couch, and Jake moved his body to half cover me, and pressed his lips on mine and I felt his warm moist tongue probing for entry.

In spite of my anger I couldn’t resist. Soon we were kissing passionately, but it wasn’t the same as before – then we’d almost torn out clothes off in our passion: now it was only I who was naked, writhing against his clothed body. I went to undo his buttons, but Jake stopped me, and we carried on kissing and embracing. Jake’s hand went to my dick and he fumbled around to pull it through the ring, then as his other hand continued to run up and down my spine he started to stroke me gently, and of course I responded – my dick thrilled to his touch, and as his thumb played over my piss slit and he teased my half-retracted ‘skin, I knew I was moaning with the sheer passion of it.

“Move a bit…”, Jake whispered and positioned his body so one of his legs in their uniform trousers was between my naked ones, and my chest was half uncovered. Suddenly I realised what he was doing – he was manoeuvring us around so that Ray and Stu could see him jerking me off from their seat on the opposite couch! I tried to push us back so that I was more concealed, but then Jake’s whole attitude seemed to change – I could feel all his muscles tense as he resisted my efforts, and then he sounded almost angry as he said urgently “Don’t be such a stupid fucker, Steve! Ray and Stu want to see….”

Then I realised the position I was in. Ray and Stu were fully clothed with the naked slave boy between them. They were looking at Jake still in his uniform, who was jerking off me who was naked except for the utterly demeaning thin gold chain around me. Jake was displaying me to them, and they were like sick watchers of some porno thing who wanted to see a young guy abused and humiliated, but in real life. Angrily I broke away from Jake and stood up, and as I did I realised my dick was rampantly erect, at forty five degrees to my belly. Frantically I reached down to cover it with my hands as I was so ashamed of what was being done to me, and I almost ran across the huge room towards the elevator lobby.

I tugged on the chain thing and the ring that was now hanging alongside my dick but in my anger, confusion and haste I couldn’t make out how Jake had fastened it. I pulled harder, and a pain from my flank alerted me to the fact that the thin thing was probably cutting in to me, so I stopped. I almost fell over as I hopped around form foot to foot pulling on my boxers and jeans, and I was still only half in to my polo as I stood there frantically trying to see how to summon the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and I threw myself in, but as the slave stroked his dick and put it into the ‘switch’ on the thing, he stopped. Across the hallway I saw Ray give Jake an envelope, then Jake came in to the elevator, and Ray nodded to the slave, presumably to tell him it was OK to go now: I was still under their control, even in this. I was still so naive and unused to considering slaves as being simply animals so that a man could do or say anything he wanted in their presence, that I couldn’t lash out at Jake, couldn’t scream at him about the way he had treated me: in spite of this huge emotion boiling inside me I stood there with my back to him, trying to act ‘civilised’. It was the same as we crossed the building’s huge lobby with its liveried slaves – I should either have hit him, or run; but instead I strode very fast, not looking back and pretending he wasn’t there.

The slaves opened the door into the street, and Jake grabbed hold of my shoulder and spun me around to face him. The elevator journey and the lobby had given time for some of my anger to burn off, so all I did was shout “Bastard! Fucker!…!” at him.

“OK, Steve, you’re a bit upset. Calm down, will you…”

“Upset? A bit upset? You’re fucking right I am, Jake! You used me, you…”

Jake kind of shrank in front of me, as if he knew he was in the wrong. “You don’t understand, Steve…”

“Don’t understand what? That you got me there, that you were displaying me to those perverts, treating me like some slave…” I halted a moment, then some of dad’s training came back to me as I tried to be calm and more analytic, searching for other things that didn’t seem right – and then it hit me! I shouted “And that envelope – is it money, Jake? How much were they paying you to act as a pimp, to get you to abuse me for their pleasure, like a prostitute?”

Jake looked even worse now. “I’m sorry, Steve….”

“Sorry? You fucking well should be sorry! I thought we were supposed to be buddies. I thought that after yesterday we were going to have a lot more fun together… And it was all an act, you were using me yesterday, too, leading me on, getting me excited… I thought we stopped yesterday because you were concerned for me and we shouldn’t fuck the first time… But was that really it, Jake? Or were you in fact saving me, waiting to fuck me so that you could charge a high price for taking a guy’s cherry in front of an audience?”

“Yes… No… Steve, shut up for a minute, will you?”

“No I won’t! I see it all now – you came on to me, you saw I was inexperienced, those two men like young guys, you make money from it…. And you’ve done it before, I saw you knew where that concealed cupboard was in the bathroom… How many other guys’ pubes have you clipped in there, Jake? How…”

To my utter astonishment Jake threw his arms around me, pressed his head onto my shoulder, and I could feel him taking great lungsfull of air as he was almost sobbing. He pressed his face into the side of my neck, and clutched me to him even harder. I was amazed as I found my anger dissipating – I’m a bit like that in everyday life: furious one moment, and calm the next. But this was extreme even for me as I’d been so very, very angry, beside myself with passion, and now I felt a kind of icy serenity start to creep over me. I couldn’t help it – my own arms closed around Jake, and I was almost impelled to run my hands up and down his back.

“Oh Steve…”, Jake whispered. “I truly am sorry. It was wrong…” He paused and I felt him take in a big draught of air. “Yes, I did think you were innocent when I first saw you at S & D, and yes, I do know Ray and Stu and after they’d ‘inspected’ you that first time at the club I agreed to get you to go to their place tonight. And yes, I have done it before.”

Another big sucking in of air, as clearly Jake was finding it difficult. “But then when we were at my place… Well, Steve, something was different. I’ve never felt such passion when I’ve had a guy in bed before – I wanted it to go on and on, I wanted to fuck you: yes, there and then, but it wouldn’t have been right, Steve, as you were so innocent, so I deliberately held back – not so I could ‘keep’ you for Ray and Stu, but because I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“I’m tough, I can take it….”

“Steve, I’m not talking about the physical pain, like you saw Reb was in when we fucked him I didn’t want to hurt you, Steve, as there’s no future for two guys like us – better not to get started than to have you destroyed when we got torn apart…”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I wanted you, Jake…” I stopped, as I understood a truth about myself. “And I suppose I still do….”

“Steve, I’ve got no future. No college degree, no chance of promotion at S & D, no chance of finding other work, just getting by on the pittance they pay, in debt, heavily in debt…. And you: off to college, you’ll have a great job, like your dad. Loads of money – you can even afford to buy yourself a slave now, so what will it be like for you in five years, ten years…?”

“Money doesn’t matter…”

“Spoken like someone who’s always had it! Think about it, Steve! What would your dad say when you introduced me? He’d think I was after your money. And you’re not yet eighteen – and your dad’s a smart lawyer – and although the courts don’t usually mind if guys have a bit of underage sex together, I bet he’d find some sympathetic judge who would listen to how you were ‘corrupted’, and they’d throw the book at me…”

“Dad’s not like that….” Actually, thinking about it, that sounded unconvincing even to me. “Steve, stop kidding yourself. It couldn’t work.”

I hate being told what to do and what not to do. I like to make up my own mind. I broke off the clinch we were in and pushed him away so that we were looking directly at each other. “I’ll decide what’s going to happen in my life, Jake. And right now, that’s you!”

I looked across at the station, put my hand on his elbow as if to guide him, and said “Come on! There’s a taxi over there… We’ll go straight back to my place…”

“I can’t, Steve! I’ve got work to go to in the morning… There’s the time to get there walking back, and I need a clean uniform…”

“Fuck that!”

“No, Steve. It’s the only job I’ve got, and there aren’t a lot of others around, you know – or, I suppose, actually, you don’t… But I can’t afford to lose it.”

 

“I’ll pay for a taxi back in the morning, take you to your place to change, then on to S & D…”

Jake glared at me now. “See, Steve, that’s why it’s never going to work for us. You think you can fix everything with your money. How do you think I’d feel going to S & D in a taxi paid for by a guy I’d spent the night with?”

“You were OK about being paid to have sex with me whilst Ray and Stu watched…”

“There you go again! You think everything’s to do with money! Ray and Stu didn’t pay me..”

“The envelope of money..?”

“It’s not like that! I know Ray and Stu and I like them, and they’ve helped me in the past: helped me get a job, get my place, as I’ve told you. And I know they like young guys – nothing wrong with that: look at how gentle they were with young Kenny. So if I’m going to have sex with a guy, where’s the harm in letting them watch? And as for the money – well it’s not important to them, like money isn’t important to you. They don’t think of it as paying to see me have sex – they’re grateful to me for spending time with them, and they know I’m always short of cash, so it’s natural for them to want to help me…”

It was a crap argument, I thought. And I told him so.

“Look, Steve, if Ray and Stu want to pay guys to have sex, all they have to do is hire a slave, like they did Kenny. There are places in this town where there are slaves for hire who can be made to do whatever you want for the night’s hire fee to their owners. So it’s not like that at all – why should they pay me for a bit of fun kissing and jerking off and stuff, when they could hire any number of slaves to hold an orgy in there if they wanted?”

Jake clearly thought he’d made a good point, and at one level he a right. But he couldn’t be let get away with another crap argument. “Jake, they pay you because you’re delivering the one thing they can’t get from paid slaves: they’re getting to see two free men doing it willingly, doing what they want to do rather than what Ray and Stu dream up for slaves to do.”

Jake shrugged, and I knew he knew I’d won the argument. But I still wanted Jake, and I wasn’t going to go through all the stuff about paying for a taxi again, so I turned and started walking shouting at him “So I’ll come to your place then. No taxis, no excuses about not being ready for work.”

It was me who strode along very fast now, and I knew that Jake would have a problem keeping up an argument walking at speed. He drew parallel with me though and I could see he was laughing. “You’re a determined fucker, aren’t you, Steve? You know what you want and you go out and get it.”

“A bit like you then, eh?”

He laughed again. “I can see I’m going to have a problem controlling you. We’re pretty much alike.”

We got back remarkably quickly, and he stopped before opening his apartment door. I watched as he fumbled in this pocket and pulled out the slave collar I’d worn at the club. “I forgot to give them this back – probably just as well….” He reached up and once more I felt his warm fingers on my neck as he fastened it. “Perhaps if you wear this it might remind you of who’s in charge here…”

“No way…”

“Steve, you’re my guest. I thought ‘nice’ boys, well-brought up boys like you, respected their host, and his wishes?”

I took his hand holding the key and pushed it towards the lock. “And hosts don’t keep their guests waiting, Jake…”

As soon as we were inside it was like a repeat of that first time – we were pulling each others clothes off in the tiny lobby, then Jake pushed me into the bedroom and we collapsed onto the bed.

I’d read somewhere that when you go with a partner for the second time it can be disappointing – without the passion driving the first date it all goes slower and you have more time to think and get disillusioned. Well it wasn’t like that – it wasn’t slower, and we were overcome with lust. I don’t know if you can imagine what it’s like when two young, virile, healthy fit guys start to play with each other, but for us it was more so! It seemed like only an instant before Jake and I were lying side by side on our backs, big pools of cum all over our bodies. Jake was moving a finger over me, encouraging some of it to move down into my navel, and I had my head propped up on one arm watching him in fascination: I couldn’t believe something as simple as this could be so totally erotic. Then when he seemed satisfied that the depression in my belly was full, he half sat up, leaned over and licked it out with his sinuous tongue – I started to giggle and laugh as you do when there’s something in your navel, and Jake laughed too… Then ran his tongue all the way up my body, so he could kiss me deeply again.

He was half lying on me, his damp skin warm against mine. “OK?” he whispered. “Was that good for you?”

“You know it was! Now, when do we get to the main action, after the overture?”

“Steve, I’ve got to go to work tomorrow, and it’s late now. I can’t fuck you straight away – even a stud like me needs a bit of time to recover…”

“Who said anything about you fucking me? I want to compare that ass of yours with Reb’s…”

I saw Jake’s expression subtly change, and he looked at me long and hard. “I can see you and me have some serious talking to do about our relationship…. But not tonight. Now, I need to get my sleep, even if you don’t….”

He turned over on his side and pulled the sheets up over him from where they were lying in a tangled heap at the bottom of the bed. I’d never spent the night with another guy before, and didn’t know what to do. At first I turned the opposite way and tried to get to sleep, but Jake’s bed wasn’t all that big and I found my butt pressed against his and it wasn’t all that comfortable. So I turned over and tried that thing I’d read about where you’re like two spoons in a drawer, and that was much better – in a completely non-sexual way my dick sort of ‘snuggled’ against Jake’s butt crack. Then I found I could lie closer to him if I put my arm over his body, and I thrilled to the sensation of his muscular belly under the palm of my hand. I moved my hand slowly and stealthily down and started to gently stroke his dick… I got a huge shock when Jake grabbed my wrist and almost shouted “For fuck’s sake, Steve! I don’t mind you sleeping with me, but that’s what it is, OK? Sleep! Leave my dick alone – I keep telling you I’ve got to be away early.”

I lay there, my body so wonderfully intimately close to his – my nose was pressed into the nape of his neck and in addition to all the other sensations I was feeling my own warm breath reflected back to me as I breathed, reflected back highlighted by the delicious scent of Jake’s body. I was wonderfully happy, more so than I’d ever been before – it was even better than those weekend mornings when I was allowed into bed with mom and dad and I’d been so close to him. I started to think about what we’d do in the morning, how we’d wake, kiss, and then start to have sex before Jake went to work….

“Aaaah…” I sort of heard myself cry out in alarm and shock. I was totally disoriented. I normally wake up and go from sleep to being fully alert almost immediately, and I never need an alarm clock: I wake up and lie there watching the time tick up to alarm time. But this morning it was as if I was in some sort of daze. It must be late as sun was flooding in through the window, and I panicked as I thought I was late for taking dad to the station – but dad was in Washington I remembered…. And the sun was all wrong – the wrong direction…

Then I remembered where I was and as my senses returned – slowly, much more slowly that they usually did – I realised I was sprawled out on my belly, totally naked, in Jake’s bed. It felt so strange not to have my pyjamas on – in fact there seemed to be nothing on top of me.

I grunted, and pushed my body up to take a look around, and there was Jake, standing there in his uniform, holding the sheet which he must have pulled off me, looking down at me and laughing. “Come on, sleepy head – time to get up! Or do I have to slap your rump again?”

I shook my head, and realised this is what Reb had done when I’d slapped his butt to wake him. Did all guys act like this in the morning? Then a wave of disappointment flooded over me. “I thought we’d have sex, proper sex….”

“No time for that now! I’ve got to scoot. Look, Steve, I haven’t got any stuff in as I grab coffee at work… But you can shower – you’d better shower, in fact, as you smell deliciously of sex and I don’t want some other guy to get so turned on that he ravages you today… And simply pull the door closed behind you, and it will lock automatically, so don’t leave anything behind.” Jake was grinning and smiling as he said all this, then leaned down and kissed the back of my neck. I made a grab for his head to do it properly, but he was too quick for me and darted away. “No time for that now! If we get started, you’d never stop!”

“When…?”

“After work. Haven’t you got to go back to your dad, though?

“He’s away on a business trip.”

“And what about Reb?”

I hadn’t thought about him. And dad had said that Mrs Williams could have time off whilst he was away as she wanted to visit her sister in Baltimore or somewhere, and she’d fussed around showing me all the meals she’d left for me in the freezer. Did Reb know where they were? Actually, what did it matter? He could always eat the chow – he knew where the sack was. “He’ll be OK”, I replied. “It’s not as if he can run off, as you know I had him chipped.”

“I thought you wanted to train him….”

“I do. But now I’ve got other more important things – at least for the time being…” I laughed as I said this as I wanted – no, needed – Jake to understand I wasn’t serious about the ‘or the time being’ bit – but why had I said that? I stopped my self analysis. “Get out, then, if you’d rather spend the day with slaves than with a horny free guy…”

“Oh Steve, you still don’t understand, do you? There’s that old playwright who said it hundreds of years ago and it’s still true – I’d have thought you’d know that, going to your fancy school…. Something about ‘needs’ waiting upon ‘musts’…? I’ve got to go to work… See you later.”

With that he was gone, and I heard the door slam. I was properly awake now, and once I’m awake I can’t stay in bed – I need to get up, need to get doing things. So I padded around the tiny apartment really rather enjoying the sensation of being naked in a strange place, and poked and pried into Jake’s things – not that he had a lot of them! But what he did have was all neatly arranged, as if was proud of them: four plates, four mugs, four bowls all in cheap but I suppose tastefully plain earthenware, along with four tumblers and a set of three pans, in the kitchen. A few books – in alphabetical order by author, I noted, on a cheap bookshelf in his main room. And in the closet in the bedroom five or six shirts all pressed and on hangers, two pairs of jeans and one ‘formal’ pair of black pants, only two pairs of trainers neatly aligned on the floor, three sweaters neatly folded, and in a drawer about six sets of underpants and eight pairs of socks – the underwear sort of ‘balled up’, as were the socks, in pairs. A final drawer held a couple of athletic vests and workout shorts, and I wondered where Jake worked out as the gyms in this area all charged very high fees.

I took a long, leisurely shower – Jake had soap and shampoo that was not a brand I recognised, and when I read the label it was in Spanish so I guessed it was a cheap import. Jake’s towels – neatly arranged in a pile – were not all soft and fluffy but thin and harsh, but spotlessly clean, and I used two to dry myself.

I went to get dressed, then thought about Jake’s underwear: I unrolled one of the balls from his drawer and saw it was a tiny set of briefs, in really thin white cotton. I realised I hadn’t seen what Jake wore when we’d stripped as he’d done that thing which some guys do of pushing his jeans down with his underwear inside. Then it came to me that these briefs were probably from Scabbard & Drass – Jake must really be saving money by bringing home stuff really intended for the stock! I was intrigued, and buried my nose in a pair of them in the hope of getting ascent of Jake, but they were laundered and smelled of nothing. I pulled a pair of the things on – I could see my dick clearly outlined through the thin material, and it was a good job that Jake had clipped my pubes as otherwise they would have been spilling out from above the low top. It felt kind of sexy, actually – I’m used to much bigger boxers, as you know – and I decided to keep them on to remind me of Jake during the day. I left my own boxers lying discarded on the floor, and thought they’d be a great gift for Jake as at leas one day a week he’d be able to wear something really fashionable.

The sun was beating through the window still and it looked hot outside as it often does at the start of Autumn after a cold night because of a clear sky. I had another great idea: I’d leave my designer jeans for Jake – we were about the same size – and pulled a pair of the workout shorts on. They were thin, too, without a proper designer label on them, and when I went to put my polo on top, it just didn’t look right. I thought about leaving my polo for Jake, too, but decided it was still one of my favourites as I’d only bought it a week ago and wanted to impress Bobby with it when he got back from vacation, but conscious that a guy does want to look good even if he’s dressed cheaply, I decided not to wear it but tucked it into the waist of the shorts.

It was only as I slammed the door behind me that I realised my really expensive phone was still in the pocket of my jeans, lying on Jake’s floor! Still, he wouldn’t think I’d given that to him as a gift, and I’d get it back later. I don’t like being out of touch, but it was only a few minutes home by cab and I’ve got an older one and could temporarily re-route all my incoming, so it wasn’t a total disaster. Then I realised my wallet and most of my money was in there, too – so no cab for me, but I could jog home and the exercise would do me good.

It occurred to me that running in Jake’s part of town might not be a good idea as any cop seeing me might think I was fleeing a robbery or something – so I was in for a stroll for a bit before I could run along the nice suburban streets to home. As I casually sauntered along I stuck my hands in my pockets to look casual, and to my delight found a two new dollar bill that Jake must have left in there. Just up on Main Street there was a McD – I don’t know why it was called that but they’re all over the place – and I thought it would add to the day being ‘special’ if I had breakfast: I’d never been in one before as dad didn’t approve, so it was kind of exciting. I read the menu outside and saw I could afford a coffee and a soyburger with Jake’s money, and that was interesting too as we always had proper meat at home and I wondered what it would taste like.

The place was really busy, heaving with people, with a long queue – but then as I looked around I saw that this was at the window marked ‘Slaves’ and the adjacent one marked ‘Free’ had no-one there, so my luck was in and I marched over and ordered a coffee and soyburger.

“As a meal?” the voice behind the window barked. “Eat in or to go”. I had no idea, so I started to ask for an explanation. A hand fell onto my bare shoulder and a voice roared “Fucking slave! Fuck off out of my way!”

I turned and there was a big physically tough looking guy in ‘work’ clothes, and these looked like ‘real’ work clothes, not the stuff Ray and Stu had been wearing which although they were coarse were clean and freshly pressed.

“Mind your manners!”, I snapped back. “I’m just querying my order. It won’t take a moment. Just wait your turn. And get your filthy hand off me.”

“A fucking uppity one! You need taking down a peg or two…” The hand on my shoulder tugged hard at me and as I was forced to turn around I saw his fist coming at me.

I went down instantly under the force of the blow, and sat there on the floor, half dazed, blood streaming from my nose. Look, he caught me by surprise. But I’m fit and strong, and my anger was a blazing fury – I flung myself upwards, and butted my head into his belly, which sent him flying backwards scattering the queue of slaves and knocking over some of the cheap tables. He came at me then arms flailing and I began to see I might have bitten off more than I could chew as there was a lot of power in his body – sure he was gross and fat, but there was muscle underneath it somewhere and he had a formidable momentum.

Fortunately for me the security guard from outside burst in and I thought it would be OK as he’d deal with the oaf – indeed the guard had one of those slave prods out, and that would teach him a lesson!

I assume most of my readers have never felt the effects of a slave prod, and indeed many of you might not even have even seen one used on bare skin in real life. But I can assure you that it’s just like in the movies – you scream, a wild, uncontrollable, unintelligible scream, and then you collapse to the floor, completely incapable of controlling your limbs, which thrash around under their own volition. And then the pain sweeps over you like a huge engulfing wave, and you stop thinking about anything as your brain is engulfed. The lucky ones pass out, I guess, but my luck had run out that day and I could still feel the agony, and kind of see through a red haze what was going on around me. Most of the slaves were fleeing the place in panic; then, as if in slow motion and there was nothing I could do to stop it, the guy who had attacked me came over and kicked me in the ribs! I didn’t feel it, actually – my whole body was incapable of feeling anything more than I was already experiencing. The security guard approached and some dim part of me managed to give a little cheer at the thought that the oaf would at least now get prodded for kicking me like that, but instead the guard did the same thing – only twice!

You lose all track of time. I was only aware of the pain of the prod being replaced by the new ache from my ribs and from my swollen face – had the pig broken my nose, I wondered dimly. There was the noise of sirens, and two cops came in and walked over to me. They leaned down and dragged me to my feet by grabbing my upper arms – literally dragged, no nice solicitous help, just a brutal hold on me and a quick haul to my feet. I was spluttering and gasping from the kicking to my ribs, and the blood streaming down my nose made it hard to concentrate.

“This slave attacked a customer, officers”, the security guard said.

I was astonished, and tried to say something, but couldn’t. “Completely unprovoked”, the oaf who had attacked me added. “He was trying to pull a smart one by using the window for free men instead of waiting his turn with the other slaves, and when I told him to fuck off out of my way, he attacked me.”

“I saw it all”, the guard added. “I hope there’s no need to detain the customer…? McD’s policy is to help you law enforcement guys as much as we can, and I will gladly come to make a statement, or whatever…”

I made heroic efforts to get some part of my faculties together. I pulled my arms away from the cops a bit, and they let me go, and I managed to stand there – although I staggered around a bit. “That fucker hit me first….”, I managed to say.

The floor was just as hard the second time I hit it. And now my brain was desperately trying to fend off a new stream of pain – the right side of my face was swelling up and my ear was ringing and hurting from where one of the cops had back-handed me with the full force of his outstretched arm. “Shut the fuck up!”, he roared at me as I lay there. “No wonder you offended this gentleman! Where I come from slaves know their place. And they only speak when they’re spoken to!”

“Bit I’m not a…”

It was the second cop who kicked at me now – I doubled over and was retching and gasping as his boot connected with my balls. He grabbed my hair and wrenched my face to look up at him. “You heard my partner! Slaves speak only when they’re spoken to. Now shut the fuck up!”

I couldn’t speak any more, even if I wanted to. I lay there watching the cops write some details into their notebooks, then they turned and grabbed my arms again. They didn’t even try to get to me to my feet – they simply dragged my body across the floor of the restaurant and out across the sidewalk. Somewhere along the way I knew my trainers had scraped off but I was in no condition to do anything about it. I’m a heavy guy but the cops didn’t seem to have much of a problem in throwing me into the back of their car – I realised I couldn’t get up on to the seat, but then that I wasn’t intended to: you probably don’t realise this but there’s a hook thing on the floor of the car, and this was now pushed through my collar and clipped shut – I had to lie there, unable to get up and even see where we might be going.

That fucking collar! It had been kind of fun last night when Jake had put it on me, a prelude to the interplay of the two of us. Why the fuck hadn’t I taken it off this morning? How could I have been so stupid to forget all about it as I showered, and focussed so much on how I’d enjoyed Jake’s body that I’d neglected my own?

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