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A story written by Pete Brown (Part 20 of 30). (Here you can find all the parts of this story.)


I realised that I would need to go and collect dad later and hunted for the spare car keys – and as you’d expect, couldn’t find them. So I called a taxi to take me into town, and on the way there I overtook Jake and Greg: their progress was painfully slow – literally, I guess, because of Greg’s wounds. Poor Greg looked in real trouble, and he was made to look even more pathetic by the old horse blanked draped around him – rather like some of those poor people you see out in Africa. I told the taxi to stop and offered them a lift: it was a big taxi with a sturdy pony and it’s mostly flat into town so it shouldn’t have been a problem.

“I don’t want a rich boy’s charity” Jake told me brutally, and carried on walking.

“Well at least let me take Greg – he looks as if he’s really hurting.”

Jake glowered, but saw the sense in what I’d said and allowed Greg to climb in. What a difference from our last journey though when he’d clung to me for warmth – now he sat stiffly upright, swathed in his blanked, and doing his best to avoid any contact with me.

Surely he didn’t blame me for dad beating him? Or was he reacting against me as he sided with Jake?

When we got outside Jake’s apartment I told the taxi to wait, but Greg painfully climbed out and went and stood against the wall, still draped in the blanket. I felt stupid then sitting there in the taxi in that run-down neighbourhood: I wanted to wait for Jake, but he’d certainly be some time, and what would I say to him anyway when he arrived? So reluctantly I told the taxi to take me to the station, then I crossed the road and went into ‘The Towers’. I explained why I was there to one of the concierges, he telephoned, then said that the keys were in the penthouse and did I want to go up to collect them, or should a slave bring them down. I walked over to the special elevator as I wanted to see the extraordinary ‘switch’ again, and the naked slave who had been patiently waiting by the doors stroked his dick and slid it into the switch to start our journey. Apart from the humiliation of this, what on earth did the guy do all day? So I asked, and he told me, very politely, that it was his duty to stand motionless in the lobby if his owners were not at home, or upstairs if the were, until the elevator was needed. I could barely imagine the boredom of that, especially as I’d seen him with his head in the proper ‘slave waiting’ position, looking down at the floor just in front of him – so he couldn’t even ‘people watch’. I commented on this and on the fact that considering he stood around all day his body was in great shape. “Yes, it’s boring, sir. But after a few weeks you get used to it. I have to empty my mind totally, and then I can almost sleep – except of course that I must remain alert in case my owners need me. It’s difficult, sir, but compared to a lot of jobs slaves have, it’s paradise, so I shouldn’t complain. And as for my body – well clearly my owners want a

slave who looks good as befits their status, so I have two hours hard exercise in the very early morning and two hours last thing at night.”

“So you’re let out to go to a gym?”

“Oh no, sir. I never leave ‘The Towers’. I haven’t been outside since I was bought, more than two years ago. There’s a gym for slaves in the basements, along with the dormitory and feeding room for us, the stables for owners’ ponies, and so on.”

We were up at the penthouse then, and one of the house slaves opened the door. He courteously showed me in, and there in the lobby were my keys on a silver salver, a salver being held conveniently at waist height for me to be able to pick up the keys by a slave who was kneeling, with his arms stretched upwards and right out in front of him. It must have been very tiring to hold your arms like that. I couldn’t help wondering if he often had to do this – was he some sort of specialised functionary, rather like the one who had used his back and shoulders to hold the canapés? It wasn’t possible to tell by looking, as Ray and Stu seemed to like a particular ‘type’ of slave – both of those I could see were medium height, medium build, with toned bodies, not overly muscular but very good looking. Their differences were minimised as their bodies seemed to be totally shaved so there was no clue from their hair or anything (that on their heads was clipped very short), and they each wore the same tiny costume consisting only of a thin gold chain around their waists and a minute scrap of silky fabric hanging down from it that served to conceal their dicks providing they made absolutely no movement.

I collected dad but I was feeling so low that even his constant talk about how good his day had been made no difference. I did tell him that I’d got my buddy to take the pony away, so dad said that Reb should join us for dinner as he liked having a guy to talk to, and that didn’t exactly cheer me up either as dad seemed to be valuing Reb’s conversation more than mine.

Once dad had started his nightly phone calls I told Reb that he wasn’t going back out to sleep in the gym, but should resume his normal duties as my slave. I was still cross at him for his remark when Jake had stalked off, and I thought that I’d fuck him as that would perhaps take some of his arrogance away, and it would anyway be good fun for me.

I remembered – with a twinge of jealousy – how good Jake had looked when he’d been in the shower and had been fucking that guy in his apartment, so decided that we should get wet before we started, too. And it was kind of fun to have his body pressed against mine, and to further humiliate him I told him I wanted him kneeling as he washed my legs. As he worked away I was very tempted to piss on his broad back so temptingly there underneath me – I’d seen guys do this in the porn films and it looked kind of exciting, but when I tried I failed: there was some sort of stupid ‘nice guys piss discretely’ inhibition holding me back. I made a mental note to myself to work on that – after all, you ought to try everything, shouldn’t you?

After he’d helped me dry myself and had wiped at his own body with the towel (at least he remembered my command not to use a fresh one for himself), Reb threw himself in to the bed and lay right up against the edge, as he did. “No, Reb – get in the middle, and kneel, and push your shoulders down onto the sheet. I need a bit of relief tonight, and that should position your ass properly for me.”

“You think you can take me, do you?” His tone was aggressive.

“No, not if you fight me. But I can get the prod out, those manacles Jake and I used when we took your cherry are still around… And if that fails, there’s always the

Slave Police a quick call away to collect you for a proper whipping. So do you want to have me take you gently, or did you actually like being forced, really forced?” I looked at him and added “I’ve heard there are guys into pain – are you one of those, Reb? You’d really like to be raped all the time?”

“Fuck you!” He muttered, as he moved his body to obey, and I responded “No, Reb, fuck you!”

I pushed his knees wide apart to make room for me to kneel between them and to lower his ass slightly, then stopped, gazing along his lovely back with the spines of his backbone tantalisingly visible and terminating in that little ‘bump’ at the base of the neck that is really intriguing. With his butt flaring out from the base of the spine and his slim waist, Reb also had two of those cute little dimples just above the start of his butt crack that not a lot of guys have and which I’ve always enjoyed looking at on guys at the pool. Altogether he was a most fuckable body, and I began to feel proud of making such an exceptional purchase, to having seen the excitement for me in the slave even though he was a few years older than ideal: I’d got a real bargain.

It then occurred to me that I really ought to lube Reb. It had been a lot of fun to rape him the first time, but I hardly wanted to go on doing that as I thought that when we were in the frat the other guys might complain about all the noise; and anyway I wasn’t sure if Reb really could keep himself under control without being shackled. The trouble was that I was so inexperienced that I hadn’t thought to buy lube – in most of the porn stuff they never show that, and it simply hadn’t occurred to me that it was more or less normal. I thought about going down to the kitchen and getting some olive oil, or even some butter as that guy had done when he was screwing the ass of a young girl in some movie classic I’d been watching a few moths ago, but then I’d have to search the place to find it, and that wasn‘t immediately appealing.

But then, when you’re with another guy there’s always another great lube conveniently to hand (literally!), isn’t there? I pushed my hand between his open thighs enjoying the moist warmth as he was not totally dry high up between his legs. I let my finger stroke his asshole so that he’d be reminded of what we were there for, then started to gently rub that area between his hole and the back of his sac. From somewhere there bubbled up the thought that in some of the retro stuff I’d been reading they called that the ‘taint’ – I wondered if I should call it that, or if other guys would think that to be a ridiculous affectation, rather like smoking a pipe, or wearing a deerstalker. No matter – as I toyed with Reb’s lovely low-hanging balls I could hear him moaning quietly – very quietly, as if he didn‘t want to admit he was enjoying this. A guy can’t hide it when he’s getting sexually aroused though, can he? Reb’s dick was jutting out and down as he knelt there, and I gave it a few quick strokes to really stiffen it, then pulled it hard back between his thighs: it felt amazing, as Reb’s dick went really, really hard now and as I bent and pulled at it. The sight of it between his thighs with his balls squeezed on either side was really erotic.

I began to jerk Reb off – you can mostly only do the head in that position of course, but that’s probably best as that’s where all the most sensitive bits are, aren’t they? And to add to my own mounting excitement I alternately slapped his butt quite hard – a really satisfactory ‘slap’ sound – and rested my other hand on the flat part of his back just above his butt crack: he was all warm and beginning to sweat and it felt fantastic, and I couldn’t help sliding my finger up and down the top couple of inches of his crack as I worked away on his dick.

Reb’s moaning was distinctly audible, and I called out to him that he must be enjoying it, especially as my hand began to move more easily on his dick as his pre-cum did its proper job and started to lubricate it. I felt Reb’s body begin to tense under my hand and quickly pushed it down under him – and there was that incredible feeling in my palm as Reb pumped a huge load of cum out. I knelt there, my own dick drooling pre-cum as my excitement mounted, as I watched the body in front of me shudder as it forced more cum out. Reb had stopped moaning now and was making little whimpering noises – it sounded almost as if he was trying to suppress the sound of crying. I ought to have made him sit up, ought to have found out exactly what was going on – I hadn’t hurt him, after all, far from it – and Reb would almost certainly never cry from pain anyway – so perhaps he was crying with shame, or with joy. Either way it would be good to know as an aid in his further training, but I was obsessed with getting on, and worried about spilling his cum from my cupped hand – there was an awful lot of it.

“Pull your ass apart”, I shouted at him, and Reb reached back and did as I’d commanded. I was rewarded by the sight of his hole, darker against the pale skin there, and by seeing Reb’s body tense even more as, deprived of his forearms and elbows as support, he needed to bend his back to ease the pressure on his face in the sheets.

I let some of his cum fall onto his taint – yes, I think I’ll use that word, it’s kind of succinct and precisely descriptive – then as it trickled into his hole, reached out and began to massage it in with my finger. Well it wasn’t long before my finger was sliding in and out of him, shortly to be followed by a second one. Each time I made a fresh foray into him, Reb gave a low moan of dissent or pleasure, I wasn’t sure which, and was so excited at what it was doing for me that I didn’t care. I knew I couldn’t wait long as my own climax was building, so I wiped my hand over my dick to lube it with the remains of Reb’s cum – it felt distinctly odd as I’d caught his cum on my right palm as I’d been jerking him off with my left hand of course, and now it was rather like jerking myself off with my right hand! It felt so strange, almost unnatural, not to be using my regular hand to be stroking my dick with.

I used my hands on his wrists, rather than a command, to get Reb to allow his butt cheeks to close and pushed his hands loosely to his side. I wanted to enjoy that fantastic feeling of having my dick slide up and down his crack before I entered him properly, and it really did feel good: Reb’s cum was already down there and my dick was lubed with it, so I could slide up and down easily and I knew I was giving little moans and cries of excitement as I did. I shuffled around to get properly positioned as I was doing this, throwing my legs out over Reb’s calves and feeling how this added to the sensation of having this powerful guy under my control. I couldn’t resist slapping his butt again several times, and pressing my own thighs right up against his and his butt and sliding my whole body up and down on his – his warmth, his sweat, my own body’s mounting excitement and the sweat now pouring off me were all building to a terrific crescendo of feeling, and I knew I had to enter him properly soon or I would simply waste my climax by shooting along his back!

I shuffled my body again to position my dick right at his hole, and heard myself cry “Here it comes, Reb!” then…. Nothing. I couldn’t make my dick go in. I reached down to grip it as it felt like my dick was bending in the middle somehow – sure, I’d heard that guys could be tight and was prepared for Reb to be clenching himself together in a futile attempt to stop me as everyone knows that a hard dick will always overcome the sphincter, but this was something else. Frantically I stroked my dick to get some life into it – I never had a problem with that, quite the reverse: my dick was usually so hard a lot of the time it was almost embarrassing. But not now, as it remained obstinately soft in my hand, and in fact it was getting softer by the instant. I rubbed away, and you know how awkward that is with a totally limp dick, and tried every trick in the book I could think of, sliding my ‘skin up and down, imagining all the sexiest scenes with the sexiest guys. I was getting desperate, and began to curse and swear softly at myself.

I heard and felt Reb moving, and my efforts redoubled. I was frantic. I’d broken out into a sweat all over. Then Reb knelt facing me, and I stopped. I was burning red with shame.

“It’s OK, Steve…” He began.

“You would say that as you’re hoping to avoid a fucking! Who told you to get up? I’m still going to fuck you! And don’t call me Steve! I’m your fucking owner. An owner who’s going to fuck you.” I sounded even angrier than I felt, I‘m sure.

Reb knelt there for a few more seconds, watching me almost as if he was sorry for me as I frantically continued to beat my dick. Then quietly he said “I was only trying to help…”

“How can you help? If I can’t keep my hard on when I’m about to fuck you, how on earth can you help?” I stopped jerking at my dick as I said this as I knew it was pointless, and it made me look ridiculous.

Reb didn’t say anything, but shuffled forward so we were closer to each other. Then as I watched he reached out – I thought at first he was going to try to jerk me off – but his arms went around me as we knelt there and he pulled me close to him. “It’s OK, Steve – it’s normal, don’t worry…” He whispered into my ear. I could feel the tension in my body start to dissipate as his hot body pressed close to mine, and he ran his hands lightly up and down my back reassuringly. “It happens to a guy sometimes… It’s OK.”

He moved us so that, still embracing, we were lying together. He somehow threaded our legs together so that as well as his arms he was now pulling me towards him with them – I could feel all the hairs rubbing together as he did so. Then of course our dicks touched – both soft, but still a little shiver of feeling ran through me. Reb relaxed his grip on me a bit then settled me against him so my head was cradled on his arm and the intoxicating scent from his pit was so close to my nose.

“Don’t worry, it happens, Steve.”

“Not to me! I’ve never had a problem, I…”

“Perhaps not in the past. A kid of 14, 15, 16, 17… Well you expect to be horny all the time, don’t you? But you’re a man now, Steve, remember? Your birthday….”

I went to argue and say that was a stupid argument, but I could see him smiling and realised he’d done it deliberately to lighten the mood. “It happens to every man sometimes…. Even to me.”

“You? The super stud, fucking women all the time..?”

“Very occasionally, yes. Even if I hadn’t had sex for days, and really fancied the bitch.” “Why..?”

Reb moved under me as if he was trying to give a little shrug. “Who knows? But probably it’s reaction to stress or tension… And you’ve had a rough time recently…”

“No I haven’t!”

“Steve, you broke up with Jake. And he was your first, wasn’t he? It’s always tough breaking up with your first love….”

“He was a buddy, that’s all…. He’s not a ‘love’… It’s OK to break up with a buddy…”

“Stop denying it! It’s still not OK for you. Listen how angry you sound when it’s even mentioned… You wouldn’t be so angry if it was really ‘OK’.” He shifted again, our bodies rubbing together once more. “And then there’s your dad – he ignores you, and…”

“He doesn’t! He gives me everything…”

“…except what you really want from him, Steve: his time, and his attention. You were really cut up when he cancelled your birthday dinner. And I’ve seen you looking when he wants to watch sport with me… It all builds up, Steve.”

I was silenced. I knew he was right – but how could I admit it. So I just lay there, then said as calmly and quietly as I could “But I was all fired up. You’re so sexy, Reb… I was enjoying getting you ready, I was about to cum….”

“And that’s when it’s most likely to hit – all that expectation, all that effort… And I bet you were scared of doing the wrong thing, weren’t you? Just a little bit..? And I know you, you always want to be perfect, always want to do the right thing…”

“So what do I do now?”

“Relax.” Reb shuffled around so that he managed to cover us with the sheets as he said this. Then he moved us again so that he was behind me, spooning close. My head was still on his outstretched arm and his other arm now curled around me to pull me close, and his hand gently ran up and down my belly. It felt so warm, so comfortable, so…. So safe.

“Just relax, Steve. You’ve been through a lot lately. It’s tough on a guy. It used to happen a lot in the service – after a tough campaign, a close buddy getting injured or killed, stuff like that… We used to lie together like this, and simply relax, enjoying being close to a buddy.. Nothing particularly sexual, just one guy being close, intimately close, to another.”

It felt so right. It was as if lying there in Reb’s arms with him all around me, knowing I had a strong, tough guy looking out for me, was all I really needed. I moved my body against his as

if I was trying to get us to merge our skins together. I knew Reb’s dick was hard as I could feel it pushing against my butt and back. “Open your thighs a bit…”, Reb said quietly.

I did, and Reb shuffled and poked his dick between my thighs, then pulled us close together again. I could feel the warmth of his dick on my asshole, and the head had pushed my balls away from my body as we lay there. It felt so good, so right.

Reb’s hand moved and began to play with my nips – not aggressively, just gently, rubbing his moist palm over them as if caressing them. I sighed with pleasure. Then his hand went down again, almost counting the ridges of muscle on my belly before his fingers teased at my pubes. He moved his body a bit so his dick head bumped into my balls several times – it didn’t hurt, but there was that delicious anticipation that it might. I touched my dick and felt it – it was now far from being a soft little slug and was plumping up. My hand touched Reb’s and a little spark of excitement went through me as my fingers felt the sinews and hairs. Then almost together we began to stroke my dick – and within seconds I was rampantly erect.

It had all taken a long time, I realised. But now here I was, ready to fuck Reb. But somehow I didn’t want to. All I wanted to do was lie there in the warmth and security he had generated.

He turned me over so we were facing each other. Our dicks were sandwiched between our bodies. He smiled at me. “So, shall we do what buddies do now, Steve, or are you going to fuck me? Get those manacles out, and fuck me?”

“No…” I felt so tired, so relaxed, the last thing I could do was fuck him. “What do buddies do though, Reb?”

He shuffled around then reached down and pressed our dicks together, side by side. I’d ‘skinned back and his wiry pubes were exciting my dick head and I moaned softly. Then he began to stroke our dicks, and it was as if I was in heaven – the scent of him, his warmth, his stunning erotic maleness and the feel of his dick against mine were all combining to overwhelm my senses. I couldn’t help it – even though I wanted it to go on for ever and ever, I shot a huge load of cum. He carried on stroking though and I’m so sensitive after shooting, and tried to break away – but Reb wouldn’t let me go and his hand, now slippery and slimy with my cum, carried on stroking both of us. “No…. No…. No….” I was crying, my head thrown back as I was in ecstasy. Then I felt Reb’s whole body go rigid and the ‘torture’ stopped as he moaned “Jesus fucking Christ…. Uh…. Uh….” And above everything else I felt a hot splash on my belly.

We lay there then, facing each other, both laughing and gasping for breath. The delicious scent of sweat, now mingled with that of our cum, kept coming to us as our bodies moved

under the sheets. “Fucking hell, Steve! You really turn a guy on – two big loads in one night…”

“You told me you weren’t a fag…”, I managed to say.

Reb’s mood changed abruptly. He pushed me away a bit, and stared at me. “I’m not a fag, Steve!”

“Come on, what you just did…”

“It’s not being a fag to have a bit of fun with a buddy! Lots of guys do! Especially your close buddies, someone who’s been through a lot, someone you’re trying to comfort… It’s the best thing you can do – takes your mind off your problems, relaxes you, brings you closer together… We did it all the time in the marines.” He paused and went on “And it works, doesn’t it? You haven’t thought about Jake since we started, have you?”

“No, but…”

“Steve, no ‘buts’. Look, you met Jake, you fell – he was the first guy you have really even been intimate with, right? Then you bust up over something. So naturally you’re upset. And then it all got too much, and you began to feel inadequate sexually, and some part of your brain wanted to reinforce that, you wanted to feel bad, so you couldn’t shoot… But you can – unless that stuff that’s soaking my pubes is something else! So lighten up, Steve – have a bit of fun.”

“But I shouldn’t be enjoying it. I’m not a fag. Dad wouldn’t….”

“Steve, cut the crap, right? Why shouldn’t you be enjoying it? You’re a young guy, great body, really horny… Why shouldn’t you enjoy it? And as for not being a fag – will you stop saying that…?”

“But you said you weren’t….”

“I’m not, Steve. Sure I enjoy a bit of fun with another guy from time to time, but that’s all it is: almost one hundred percent of guys would go with another one if they weren‘t afraid, or had the opportunity: men are meant to admire each others bodies, and it’s only natural. If I hadn’t got enslaved I’d get married, have kids. But you – you’re different: you fell for Jake, you’ve had passionate sex with Greg – yes ,he told me: more than just a bit of harmless fooling around like this – you fucked him, kissed him…. I reckon the only reason you’ll never be happy is that you’re terrified of what your dad would think…”

“No! Dad would understand….”

“I heard him at dinner telling you about that ‘notorious homosexual’ – that hardly speaks of a tolerant attitude, does it? And you worry all the time about him – you’d probably be with Jake still if you hadn’t acted so fucking stupid, being terrified of your dad meeting him…”

I fell silent. I felt tears welling up. I pressed my head against Reb’s chest, and whispered “I miss him, Reb. What can I do…?”

“Well you could go and see him, for a start. Ask his forgiveness…”

“It’s him who needs to apologise! The moment we broke up he was fucking another guy…..”

“Steve, there you go! Always want to be in the right, don’t you? How do you know he was fucking him? Perhaps he was simply seeking a bit of comfort…. Like you are with me…”

“But the other guy was like him, had a great butt…”

Reb laughed and pulled me towards him. “Steve, you really are priceless” There was a twinge of pain inside me as he used that expression Jake had used. “Jake wasn’t necessarily going to fuck him because he had a great butt! And I’ve got a great butt – and you haven’t fucked me but I’m in your bed…” He saw me looking hurt and smiled at me. “Look, Steve, life’s tough. Relationships are hard. If Jake fucking another guy is the worst thing that ever happens to you in your love life, you’ll have got off lightly. Jake’s a man – a virile man – that’s part of his attraction, isn’t it? So what do you expect him to do if he hasn’t got you in bed with him? Guys aren’t meant to be monogamous – millions of years of evolution have bred us differently – and you need to differentiate between what you and Jake had – or might have had, or could have had, or whatever – and a bit of fun, casual, sex.”

I lay there silent, desperately trying to think. “Of course you could be lucky, and get both in the same guy. Or a lot of guys get the one from a woman, and the sex from other guys… It doesn’t matter, Steve: what matters is that you do what suits you, providing it doesn’t harm anyone else!”

Well that seemed to be that. I wondered if we should get up and shower, with all the cum and sweat all over us, but Reb lay there, casually flexing his body lazily. “Steve, one of the great joys of sex with a buddy at home is that you don’t have to get up and go somewhere else. Just enjoy it, will you? Relax…. And you don’t have to worry about your mom seeing the sheets after all of this, do you?”

So I did relax, lying there against him, and drifted into sleep. But it’s not all that easy sleeping with another guy, is it? I woke up several times as Reb moved his body, but it was

somehow very, very comforting to be able to reposition myself against him, to feel his masculine strength somehow wrapped around me.

I woke up as I usually did the following morning – Reb had assumed his usual sleeping position of sprawling on his belly and cradling his head in his hands, and I was half alongside him, half on top of him. I was tempted to start to casually fuck him, but it was time to take dad to the station so instead I slapped his butt to make him wake up, and told him to be ready for a run when I got back.

Dad actually commented on how well I looked that morning, and indeed I did feel as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders – I had resolved to go around to see Jake that night and talk things over with him. But as I set off back from the station, there was Jake walking along out of town, with Greg beside him still wrapped in the old horse blanked. I stopped, but before I could say anything Jake snapped “Greg needs exercising. He needs to be in good shape as I can’t afford to keep him and he’s going to have to be sold.”

“I could put an advert online, on eBay Slaves…”

“No! It’s bad enough that Greg has to go. I must find a suitable owner for him, someone who will look after him. Typical of you, Steve – always after a quick fix, and never mind the needs of poor Greg. You don’t care about him, or you would have taken more interest: you never even acknowledged my texts.”

“But…”

“Shut the fuck up. Just look after Greg today and tomorrow, and I’ll have him for the weekend. Some of us have got to work!” With that Jake turned and stalked off back towards town, his whole body saying that he didn’t want to speak to me. I was horrified, and looked at my phone. There on the screen it was showing five messages from Jake, all with the ‘blocked’ symbol beside them. I had simply forgotten to turn off the blocking.

I read them hastily – Jake was icily polite in all of them, telling of the difficulty he was experiencing in being able to afford food for Greg (who ate a lot as he was so active), especially on top of the stuff he needed to treat him for his injuries; of how Greg did not really have enough space in Jake’s tiny apartment and asking for my help; of his need to go to work and his concern that Greg would be bored in the tiny apartment and asking for my help, and so on. I really had fucked up again.

When I got back to the house Reb looked surprised. “I thought we were going running – and you’ve bought Greg back: how did you arrange that?”

I told him and he nodded. “Ah well, there’ll be an opportunity to put things right tonight, I guess. So let me and Greg go and exercise anyway so Jake won’t have anything else to complain about.”

“What do you mean ‘else’….”

“Steve, he thinks you were ignoring him! Probably deliberately. So he’s pissed off, I would imagine.”

“But it was an oversight…”

“Are you sure? Not turning your phone on seems pretty kind of deliberate…. Maybe your subconscious didn‘t want you to talk to Jake…”

“Reb, I‘ve listened to you about how buddies behave, as you know. But cut the psychological crap, OK? Of course I wanted to talk to Jake, but….”

“But…”, Reb echoed. “It’s the ‘but’, isn’t it, Steve?” And with that he threw his arm around Greg’s shoulders and they walked off towards the gym.

I didn’t get the chance to talk to Jake that night as I got a text – which I did acknowledge – saying he had to work and could Greg stay with me. And the next day, and the next. I began to get worried that Jake didn’t want to meet me at all, or, worse, that he wasn’t really working but had gone off with some other guy. So I hung around outside his apartment whenever the shift changed at Scabbard & Drass, but he never seemed to turn up at home, and it started to confirm my opinion that he’d gone off.

By Sunday I was kind of resigned to having lost Jake – there was a deep emptiness inside me, but Reb was helpful in trying to get me to see that I needed to move on, and also in exercising Greg – both on the machines in the gym, and by driving him around and even using the carriage whip ‘As it’s the best for Greg’, he did concede. On Friday night when dad had to stay in the city after a big dinner, I even had Reb and Greg in my room – Greg was all over me and I fucked him shall we say ‘energetically’ as he lay there hungrily guzzling at Reb’s dick. It was a whole lot of fun, and it was only afterwards that I suddenly realised I’d actually fucked him, with no failures.

Dad always insisted we went to church on Sunday. He always said it was complete nonsense – indeed I remember as a little kid after he’d read me a fairy story one day he’d pointed at a bible in my bedroom that had been some gift from the school and said something like “and there’s another book full of fairy stories – toss it in the bin, Steve, as it’s complete rubbish.” We always had the same argument on Sunday mornings – I said that if it was all rubbish, why did we have to go. And dad always replied that of course it was

rubbish, but getting us all to church on a Sunday ‘added community cohesion’, or some such nonsense. Now he also insisted that Reb accompanied us as owners needed to insist their slaves listened to the sermons “They’re all about serving, and waiting for rewards until later, and showing respect for the law, and all that sort of stuff, Steve. Just right for a slave. And a lot of slaves aren’t as bright as us, and actually enjoy all that walking on the water stuff and virgin births and turning water into wine and so on – it gives them something to worry about, makes them think there’s some magic power out there, a power that, after all, might punish them if they do wrong, like not obeying their owners.”

“Hear that, Reb?”, I joked. “You’d better start really obeying me or the big Ju-Ju in the sky will get you to burn in hell.”

Rather than take the car, dad and I rode in the trap. I’d bought Greg a cold-weather tunic by now and he looked very smart indeed: it was in soft, pale blue leather which perfectly complemented his shock of blond hair and deeply tanned skin. It was cut very short so that his torso was covered but his long legs were not inhibited by it, so it stopped just above the top of his dick – which actually looked kind of cute jutting out from under it. Reb put a blanket in the back of the trap, though – I’d seen him talking to Mrs Williams and I recognised it as one of the ones that had been changed last year when the decorators again re-did upstairs. “For whilst we’re waiting, Steve”, he murmured, seeing me looking. “That jerkin’s good for Greg when he’s running, but a long wait in the cold is still not right for him.” As usual, Reb was worrying about someone else.

I realised that now he was always calling me Steve, and one part of me was annoyed as I didn’t think it showed proper respect for his owner, and another part kind of liked being treated as his buddy. And I suppose it’s hard to maintain a proper owner/slave relationship when you’ve both been fucking Greg!

I had to dress properly – no jeans and sweat shirt or anything but a smart blazer, a silk tie, a topcoat against the weather, and dad was similarly attired in his ‘Sunday’ stuff – not a formal suit, but a blazer, too, with a dazzlingly white, new shirt and one of his Hermes ties, very impeccably cut black slacks, and Gucci loafers.

It was me who ‘drove’ – I didn’t want dad using the whip on Greg again, and he seemed a trifle peeved at this as he likes to be in charge, but I explained that it was my pony – well, half mine – and I wanted to give dad a treat. As Greg trotted happily along I wondered if it was right to always make him run naked – his butt was, if anything, enhanced by the short jerkin that stopped just on top of it.

At church Reb wanted to stay outside and look after Greg, and I thought about them cuddling up together under the blanket as they had done at the station, and insisted that Reb went into the church and sat in the area reserved for slaves, right at the back. “And no

sneaking out!”, I commanded him. “Greg has that blanket, and he’ll probably enjoy talking to some of the other ponies, exchanging tips, that sort of stuff.”

The sermon droned on for ages and was about ‘service’ and how it was good to serve others, and that folks who did would be rewarded in the after life. I hoped Reb was listening, as he surely needed lessons in service! Afterwards, on the steps, Ray and Stu were leaving at the same time as us and Stu at once warmly shook my hand and motioned to Ray who was talking to the pastor.

Well I had to introduce him to dad, didn’t I? What else could I do? So I reminded dad that I’d met Ray at S & D, but that Stu had been there too. At that moment Reb came up, and Stu looked him over and said to dad “You have a remarkable son there, Mr Masters – you should be proud of him. I recognise that slave there from when we met in S & D….” He gave a tiny wink at me as he said this, out of dad’s line of sight, to show me he understood and was playing along. “…and the transformation seems remarkable. There aren’t many young men who could achieve that.”

Dad gave a rather frosty response, saying thank you, and adding that of course he knew I was pretty exceptional.

“Well if young Steve needs a job after college, be sure to send him along to see me”, Stu beamed. “He’s just the kind of enthusiastic, hard working man we need…”

“So are you in the slave trade, sir?” Dad was frosty still.

Stu laughed. “Indeed not. I’m in investment management. I’m CEO of American Global Investors, and our problem is finding young dynamic men who have been properly brought up – like Steve – but who have not become lazy and effete because they are surrounded by slaves who do all the work for them. It’s one of my perennial problems – I spend so much time with HR on issues of getting the right people recruited, then in retaining them.”

Dad looked impressed – something he’s not often given to do. AGI is of course absolutely the biggest of its kind in the country. His lawyer’s mind seemed to snap into gear then, though, as he asked “So if that’s one of your problems, what are the others?”

Stu laughed. “Well running the investments isn’t one – I have an excellent team for that. No, my biggest current challenge is Washington – they always want to regulate us, and I spend hours with my lawyers and PR people trying to plan what to do to thwart them.”

At that moment Ray came over after talking to the pastor, and Stu went to introduce him. “No, Mr Johnson’s reputation is well known! A truly marvellous litigator. But perhaps not a totally rounded corporate lawyer?” Dad gave one of his wolfish smiles as he said this.

“For that you need a firm like mine…” He whipped a business card out of his top pocket and handed it to Stu. “If your in-house team run out of ideas, call me. I think I could give you some useful pointers on handling Washing ton – in fact I’m just back from there, managing to broker a deal for a major corporate client…. Rather successfully, if I may so.”

”I hadn’t heard about that, Mr Masters…”

“No. That’s part of the ‘successfully’ – the press and TV were kept neatly out of it, and we got the most advantageous terms for the client without all the campaigning and fuss and strife that can accompany something which might turn out to be very unpopular with the public at large.”

“I think we should have that lunch, Mr Masters…”

“Why not today? I do find the weekend boring. All this cant in the morning, then nothing all afternoon except sport… Will you and Mr Johnson join me at home?” He didn’t wait for a reply but snapped at me “Steve, call up Mrs Williams and tell her we have two guests for lunch.”

I shuddered inside. What on earth was going to happen? I’d sucked both of these guys’ dicks, and now they were lunching with dad!

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