A kinky story written by Pete Brown | Chapter 21

Click here to see all published chapters | Illustration by Theo Blaze.

For a moment, I thought I’d lost it.  Joe looked at first shocked, and then defiant, and then terrified. I knew I was running close to the edge, and that it would take only a small mistake to tip Joe over into a situation where he’d need to be at least whipped to maintain my control, and I really did not want to have to do that.  I was expecting him to be just a little defiant, but why did he seem to be so terrified of getting down to it and fucking Andy?  After all, it wasn’t as if he didn’t like doing things like that – he was always complaining that it was always me fucking him, and that he did not get a chance to take my arse.  And I knew that on those nights when I was not using him, Joe would take his pick of the other slaves and really get to work on them.  It therefore ought to present no problems to get his cock up Andy – there was no danger, as I would hold Andy down, just as Joe had done, and no shame or fear of embarrassment, as I’d commanded him to do it and he would just be acting out his role as a slave.

But he knelt there, and said quietly, very quietly indeed, “Sir, please, sir… Please, Steve…. Please don’t make me do this… If I mean anything at all to you, Steve, don’t make me….”

Hearing him lapse into the familiar “Steve”, which was allowed normally only when we were having sex, I knew something was odd. And the way he flip-flopped between “Steve” and “Sir” suggested that he was struggling in confusion.  But I did need to exert my control, didn’t I?  So I snapped “All you mean to me, Joe, is that you’re a slave, and slaves obey.  Now, do as I tell you – or take the consequences.”

“I’m sorry, Andy….”, Joe was whispering so silently that I could easily not have heard that.  “I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to do it…..”

He started to move, and I took over holding Andy’s arms down.  Joe slowly and so reluctantly shuffled down the bed, and lifted Andy’s legs up, taking a firm grip on the ankles.  “I’m sorry….”, he said again, and I snapped “Get in there and get fucking, Joe!  I haven’t got all day….”

Well, for someone who was really experienced at fucking, and who enjoyed it, and who did it whenever he could get away from me to take the pick of the slaves, Joe was a disaster.  First of all he couldn’t get properly hard, and so it was really difficult to get his cock into Andy even though I’d stretched him and had already given him a good going over.  Then, when he did eventually get in, he seemed to be watching Andy’s face all the time and listening to his cries as if he was trying to manage his fucking to cause the lad as little difficulty as possible.  Joe really looked unhappy, and I tried to cheer him up. “Come  on, Joe!  It’s not often I let you fuck, especially not a nice piece of young arse like this…. Make the most of it, and get stuck in….”

Joe just carried on, pulling himself very slowly and gently in and out of Andy.  I could feel myself start to lose my temper.

“Joe, get fucking properly, will you?  Pretend it’s the new nigga, who I saw you giving a good shafting to earlier in the week…. I want to see some action, some proper action….”

Still Joe didn’t react properly, and now I was really cross.  I let go of Andy’s arms – he made no effort to do anything other than lie there – and got off the bed to pick up the punishment cane I keep in the bedroom. I don’t have to use it, of course, but it’s the sort of thing a master has to have to hand always, isn’t it?

Standing behind Joe I swished it through the air experimentally a number of times, so he could clearly hear it.  Then I told him!  “Get fucking properly, Joe, or the next slice of this cane will be across your arse.”

Joe just carried on, infinitely slowly and gently, and almost in fury I struck at his bum as he knelt in front of me.  I heard him give a sharp cry as the cane struck, but I could see there was otherwise no effect – Joe’s iron will kept him plugging at it steadily, in the way he had chosen to do it.    I was in a real quandary now – either I could give in, which was almost unthinkable, or I could slash and slash at Joe until his bum was a tattered mass – and of course I still had no guarantee of satisfaction.  I began to wish I hadn’t started this at all, as I felt my control of the situation slipping.

I needed to find some way of exerting my authority, some way of making Joe see that I would not be defied.  Then I had it – I moved along the bed on my knees, and, as Joe watched, I ran the tip of the cane lightly over the lad’s tiny tits – the small pink rings with their minute teats were actually quite difficult to see against Andy’s pale skin.

I put my arm around Joe’s shoulder as he carried on his slow, gentle fucking and whispered in his ear “Joe, what do you think would happen if I was to slash across Andy’s nips with this cane?  He’s got no flesh to cushion the blows, and I reckon it would be really painful – no, more than that, it would be the most excruciating agony for him.  So would you like me to do that, Joe – just three or four hard strokes should do the trick….”

“You bastard, Steve…. Please, don’t…. It’s not the kid’s fault….”

“So whose fault is it, Joe, that you’re defying me? And I know that caning you isn’t going to get you to act differently just at this moment…. So perhaps really hurting Andy is the only option I’ve got left….?”

“Steve, please, don’t…..”

“Get fucking, and fucking hard, Joe, or else those little nips of Andy’s are going to be hurting in a way he’s never felt before.  It’s up to you, Joe…..”

I saw Joe trying to decide, then he made up his mind. He managed to stammer “I’m sorry….”, not directed to me, as it should have been, but to Andy!  Then he drew his hips back and trust forward in a proper fuck.

The total unexpectedness of Joe’s assault on his arse caught Andy totally unaware, and he gave a great shout of surprise mingled with pain, and then as Joe fucked him, he began to shout “No, please, Joe… Don’t, please… You’re hurting….”

Joe worked away with a vengeance now, as if he needed to drown out Andy’s screams and shouts by turning inwards and focussing only on what he was doing.  It seemed to go on and on, until Joe cried “Jesus Christ… Oh, fuck me…..”, and I could tell from the way that his body arched, and then went still, that he’d shot deep into the lad.

A moment later he was leaning forward over Andy’s body, desperately kissing Andy’s neck and face, and all the time muttering “I’m sorry.. . But it’s over now…. You’ll be all right…..”

I was really pissed off, I can tell you.  There’s no need to apologise when you’ve fucked another bloke, is there?  I mean, you don’t tell the bloke underneath that you’re sorry, if you’re a free man.  So especially not if you’re  a slave and you’ve done it because your master has ordered you to.  Joe slowly pulled out and now lay beside the lad, putting one arm under him and the other arm around him, to hold him close.  I felt my anger surge, and was within an inch of deciding to make a formal occasion of it and really thrash Joe over a flogging horse;  but losing your temper with slaves is almost what they want, I find – it makes them feel that they’ve “won” in some way, even if it resulted in a lot of physical pain for them.   So I willed myself to be calm and collected, and went and lay alongside Joe, on the other side to Andy.  Joe stretched out his arm so I could lay my head on it, and I slipped one leg across and between his, so our cocks were almost touching, and we lay like that for quite a long time as night fell.

As I lay there I began to wonder what the hell I’d been doing.  After all, I didn’t really want to fuck Andy, other than to demonstrate my ownership, and I could fuck Joe anytime I wanted to.  So why did I feel this jealousy because Joe was trying to save Andy from pain and distress?  I tried to analyse my feelings, and got nowhere.  After all, I didn’t really want Joe at all – I wanted Dan, and I only used Joe because Dan was mostly unattainable.  It just didn’t make any sense for me to be jealous of Joe and Andy being together.

It must have been about three in the morning when I was lying there, these thoughts still running around in my brain.  I realised Joe was awake, too, although judging from the heavy breathing I could hear, Andy was sound asleep.

“Listen, Steve”, Joe began hesitantly.  “I know I oughtn’t to be saying this, and you can have me punished if you want, but I’m going to say it anyway. You’re a real bastard, you know that?  Making me fuck Andy….”

“Andy needed cock, Joe.  He’s a young, wilful slave, and he needs to feel a master’s cock deep in him so that he gets to understand that he’s a slave, and is there to be used whenever his master wishes.”

“I don’t have too many problems with that, Steve: you’re right – it is a master’s prerogative to fuck his slave.  I know that, as you exercise that right on me several times a week, even though you know I don’t like it.”

“So what’s your problem, Joe?”

“It’s making me fuck him, Steve!  It’s not right… I’m old enough to be his father….  He’s only just turned sixteen, and I’m forty-two…..”

“Don’t be such an idiot!  There’s a long history of older men fucking younger ones, stretching right back to the Greeks.  It does the young man good to know there’s an older one who’s taking an interest in him….”

“You don’t see it, do you, Steve!  So perhaps I need to spell it out to you – I was taking an interest in Andy.  He’s had a really tough life, and I was getting him to see that it isn’t all necessarily like that. To see that by co-operating, by making the most of things, he can have a good life, even as a slave. He’s had a rotten time of it, pushed around from one place to another, being beaten and bullied, and just as he’s beginning to see that there’s someone who likes him and who takes an interest in him because he, too, is quite a nice bloke, you come along and fuck it all up!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Joe!  Get real!  I fucked him, as I’ve got a perfect right to do.  Then you did – as I ordered you to.  If you’re so keen to let him see that you take an interest in him, then fucking him’s actually a good way to show it.”

“I’m not explaining this well, Steve.  Look, I wanted Andy to know I was taking an interest in him just because he’s a nice kid – and it was paying off:  look at how he was running the course the other day, and how he works quite hard in the kitchens.    I was working on it, and he understood that I thought he was worthwhile, that he had potential…. Like a father does with his son, Steve.  That was what I was working on.  And then you made me fuck him – and all that work’s thrown away:  fathers don’t fuck their sons, Steve, or perhaps you hadn’t noticed, as you’re so wrapped up in your own plans and life that you don’t see what’s going on around you…..”

Joe went silent then, and after a minute or so when he saw I wasn’t going to say anything, he almost whispered “I like you, Steve, even though you’re a real bastard sometimes.  And I thought you liked me, at least a little bit.  I can take the fucking, as that’s what a slave expects.  But I thought that you listened to what I sad, that you cared about me, at least a bit…”

“I do, Joe.”

“But not enough to remember me telling you, several times during the time we’ve been together, that I never thought I’d end up as a slave.  That all I ever wanted was a wife and a nice little house ,and some nippers….. Well, I’m getting old, Steve, and it isn’t ever going to happen, is it?  But then Andy came along, and he’s like the son I never had, Steve…. And then you made me fuck him.”

Joe had got it all wrong somehow in there, but I honestly didn’t know how to tell him so.  “All right, you soft thing, I won’t make you do it again…”

“It’s too late, Steve.  I can never be like a dad to the kid, now he’s felt my cock up his arse.  It’s not natural.”

“What better way can there be of showing someone that you really care about them, that you love them, even, than to fuck them?  I reckon a whole lot of fathers and sons would get along a whole lot better if they cuddled up to each other in bed, and then did what men are supposed to do with their cocks.”

Joe remained silent, and I tried to be more cheery, to move things on.  “Anyway, Joe, what’s done is done. We can’t turn the clock back, and we need to make the most of where we are.  I reckon Andy still likes you and respects you, so you’d better build on that – show him that it’s perfectly natural for one man to use another’s arse, and that’s a special mark of love between them.”

“He won’t let me fuck him again….”

“Don’t be so stupid!  You’re bigger and stronger, so take him whether he wants to or not.  Once you’ve got him properly broken in, he’ll begin to see just how special it is to have that cock of yours in him. He’ll get to know that he’s the only one you fuck – well, except when I want you to fuck a new arrival or something, and that’s work, and doesn’t count – and so he’ll recognise he’s really special to you.”

“I wanted him to be like a son, though.”

“And he would be!  You can be teaching him about sex at the same time:  that’s something fathers and sons do all the time.”

“From books, Steve….”

“More fool them, then!  I reckon if I had a nice lithe sixteen year old son I wouldn’t want to waste time showing him pictures of how a cock worked…. I’d be demonstrating it!”

“You don’t understand….”

“…and neither do you!  You’ve not had kids, after all, even though you keep going on about them.”

We both lay there thinking, and we were very still and silent in the middle of the night.  Only the gentle sounds of Andy’s breathing came to us.   I was worried – I thought I’d really lost control of Joe, and I wondered how I could demonstrate to him that I was still his master.  I thought about fucking him, but when I half rolled on to him and began to tweak his nips – one of the signals I use to show him that I’m serious about starting sex – he hardly responded at all, and, in fact, even dared to put his hand over mine, as if to stop me!  Then it came to me – but I had to make a few preparations, as I was now so worried about Joe’s attitude that if my plan went ahead he’d almost certainly resist vigorously.

I slid out of bed, and walked down the barn towards the equipment room where we keep some of the stuff we occasionally need for disciplining and controlling very new slaves, and selected two pairs of cuffs.  As I walked back through the ranks of sleeping slaves, I was conscious that my cock was rock hard now, and I could feel it bobbing up and down in front of me in the way it does.

Back in bed, Joe was still lying motionless, and was, I think, half asleep.  Before he could protest or struggle, therefore, I moved his arm gently above his head, then quickly snapped one set of cuffs closed over his wrist and the bed head.  He noticed something wrong when the cold metal went around him, and reflexively tried to jerk his wrist away.  When he found it was immobile, he tried to sit up, and muttered “What the fuck…..?”

I’d anticipated this, though, and before he could do anything else I’d pushed Andy out of the bed from the side of Joe, and leapt astride Joe’s body so all my weight was on his chest.  It felt hot and sweaty as the sensitive skin around my ass touched his hairy torso, and my cock was drooling pre-cum on to him as I sat there.  The sheer unexpectedness of it all worked to my advantage, and I was able to grab his other wrist and, with some struggle, admittedly, get the second pair of cuffs to hold that to the bed head, too.  Joe was almost shouting now…. “Steve, what the fuck…..”, and he was tugging and straining with his arms in a vain effort to get free.

Andy was standing there I noticed from the corner of my eye, rubbing his eyes, having woken from his sleep – or, rather , having been woken by landing on the floor on his skinny bum.  I got off Joe, who continued to thrash around, and stood by Andy, now putting my arm around his young shoulders in a firm gesture of control.  “So…. Have you ever fucked?”

He looked at me in astonishment.  “No…. I wanted to, but all the girls in the Social Services Homes were always after older men – they wanted to get one of the supervisors’ cocks in them, so they could influence them, and they wouldn’t let me near them….”

“No, not women.  Didn’t you ever try to get that cock of yours up one of the other boys?”

“No!  I’ve told you, I’m not a poofter…..”

“…and I warned you what would happen if you used that word.  I ought to put you over my knee and spank you, right here and now…. But I’ve got other plans for you at this moment.  But don’t think you’ll be so lucky next time.”

I got on to the bed, pushing Joe’s legs apart so that I could kneel between them.  Joe could see my rampant cock, and thought that I was going to fuck him, so he didn’t offer any resistance, and even stopped struggling to try to break free of the cuffs.  “Here, boy”, I called to Andy, gesturing with my hand, “Up here…. In front of me…..”

He looked startled and concerned, and just stood there.  “I said get up here!”, I snapped.  “Come and kneel in front of me…..”

He looked at Joe, as if to ask him what he should do, and Joe of course at once saw what my plan was.  He began to struggle again, shaking the cuffs and shouting “Steve, no, please…. Don’t make him do it…. Please, Steve…. Just fuck me, will you?  You can do whatever you want, but not the kid…..”

I looked down at him, along his body.  “You’re right, Joe.  I can do what I want.  And I want to try something different right now, something with Andy.”

“You bastard, fucking cunt…..”

I smiled, and remained calm as Joe began to thrash around violently now, even trying to kick at me with his strong legs – but he stopped at once as I grabbed his balls and squeezed them hard, to remind him of the vulnerability of his position.

“You see, Joe, I think you sometimes forget you’re a slave.  I’ve allowed you a lot of liberties when we’re in bed, and perhaps it’s my fault for letting you act sometimes almost as if you’re a free man.  But you’re not, Joe, and I can see now, from your outrageous behaviour, that you need to be reminded that I’m your master, I’m in charge, I control you.”

I turned to Andy, and snapped “And you, you little runt, get up here, as I commanded….”

“No!”, he shouted.

I squeezed Joe’s balls again, and Joe cried out with the pain.  “Andy, if you don’t obey me, Joe will be hurt.  Hurt very much.  Have you ever had your balls hit, Andy?  You don’t want that for Joe, do you?”

The kid shook his head in despair, and looked at Joe as if to say “sorry.”  He scrambled up onto the bed, and we went through a bit of manoeuvring to get him kneeling in front of me – I opened my legs so his could go between mine, and then I pushed my hard cock so that it lay, as far as possible, down his tiny ass crack.  With one hand still gripping Joe’s balls, I put my other arm around Andy’s thin body, both to hold him tight pressed back into me, and to remind him of my overwhelming presence and of my dominance and control.  I pushed my face down into that lovely part of a man, between his neck and shoulder bone, and breathed in the scent of him, his sweat containing all those wonderful essences of manhood, overlaid with the taint of fear and desperation.

I nibbled at his earlobe, feeling his body move and gently writhe against mine, and I whispered seductively into him “Now, Andy, I think you can guess what you’re going to do…. I want you to start wanking yourself to get really nice and hard, and then ,when you are, we’re going to move forward so that you start fucking Joe’s arse.”

“No, no, please…”, he whimpered.

I squeezed Joe’s balls, and Joe cried out again. “Yes, Andy.  Obey me, or Joe suffers.”

He was rock hard almost instantly, of course, and I let my hand roam down his flat belly to feel his cock – his head had come out to play, as his ‘skin had retracted fully, and as I brushed my thumb over it, it was agreeably moist.

“OK, Joe”, I called.  “I suggest you behave!  If you’re violent, or kick, it’s likely to be Andy that gets hurt rather than me.  Now, I’m going to let go of your balls, and then I’m going to pick up your legs and open you out ready for Andy…. But he’s right in front of me, and any misbehaviour…..”

Joe stopped struggling, but he turned his head sideways on the pillow, as if to try to avoid looking at what was going on, and I could see him biting his lower lip in an effort to get control over himself.

It wasn’t as difficult as I thought, actually – I pushed Joe’s legs wide apart and then forwards, leaning my weight on them and using them to support me, and this of course meant that my body pushed against Andy’s and made him go forward and in to Joe.   He seemed to have the idea, actually –  he used his own hand to stroke his cock a couple of times and actually guide it into Joe, keeping it hard as he did so.  Then he sank in properly, until his pubes were right in contact with Joe.

“Right, boy…. You know the form now – nice long, hard strokes….”

I’ve told you that although he was pretty thin and skinny generally, Andy’s cock was a good size, and for Joe it was almost like having me in him – except that there hadn’t been any pre-stretching and stuff that I usually did.  So as Andy began to fuck him, Joe was crying out with every stroke.  The first time this happened, Andy stopped immediately, and I could feel his body tense against mine as he was obviously terrified that he’d done something wrong.  I nibbled hi earlobe again, and whispered “That’s OK, you’re doing all right…. Most blokes make a bit of a fuss when they have a cock up them, especially a real man’s one, like yours…”

You know I’ve said that statistics show that most blokes don’t actually cum as a result of fucking arse, and this is certainly true for me as I’ve got older. But young Andy was so excited by the whole thing once he’d got started, that it was all over remarkably quickly.  He knew what to do then, too – with his detumescing cock still buried in Joe, he almost threw himself forward so he could rub his body all over Joe’s, and bit and kissed at Joe’s thick neck just above his slave collar.  He lay there then, his thin arms wrapped around the big man as he was half laughing, half sobbing, at what he’d done.

Joe had gone very quiet once the fucking stopped, and at first he was just lying there recovering his strength before he erupted with violence, or, at the very least, with a string of expletives.  But as I moved away, worried that he might now start to lash out with his mighty legs, he did that characteristic thing that blokes do when they’ve really enjoyed you fucking them – he lifted his legs up and back and crossed them over Andy’s body, just above his bum, as if to try and hold the lad in there for as long as possible.

I reckoned that there wasn’t a problem when I saw this, so I went to the head of the bed and cautiously undid one cuff, and then the other.  Joe’s arms at once went around Andy’s body, and Joe’s head moved down to try desperately to kiss Andy, rather than only having him kiss Joe’s neck.

It seemed good to let them enjoy each other for a few minutes so I went into my bathroom for a piss, and when I came out I found Andy had got his cock out from Joe, and was now lying alongside the big man:  Joe was lying on his back, and Andy’s head was on Joe’s outstretched arm, and with Joe’s hand wrapped around his shoulder.

“Sir…”, Joe whispered quietly, as if a normal voice would somehow do damage.  “Sir…. Come to bed, sir… It’s a long time until morning…..”

I looked almost incredulously at Joe.  I mean, one moment I’d been the object of his fury and hate, and now he seemed to be concerned for me.  I thought it might be a trap – he wanted to get my naked body close to his so he could attack me; but on reflection, I thought I knew Joe well enough to believe that he wasn’t capable of deceit like that.  So I slipped onto the bed, lying my body alongside his, and then even venturing to put my leg over his and move my hips a bit, so that we were maximally together.  Joe stretched out his other arm now, and I lay my head on the top it, getting Joe’s warm, masculine scent from his pit at I did so.  His hand curled around my shoulder, and somehow I knew everything was going to be all right.  Mind you, I didn’t think it was the sort of thing a master should necessarily do – anyone looking in and seeing Joe almost cradling Andy on one side and me on the other would think that he was in some way in charge.

I drifted into a troubled sleep, but woke when the first touches of dawn were colouring the window.  I realised Joe was awake, too, and he turned his head, from where he’d been watching Andy who was still lying by him, to look directly at me.

“Joe…”, I began.

“It’s OK, Steve…”

“Joe, I’m sorry…. I shouldn’t have made you fuck him, or him fuck you….”

“Steve…. Look, mate, I’m not very good at this…. at these explanations.  But you know I don’t like taking cock, but I’ve done it all this time not just because I’m a slave, but because, well… well I like you, Steve.  I really like you.  And I reckon you must like me, at least a little bit, or you wouldn’t still be fucking me, when there are so many other slaves around here how are younger and everything.   I always thought I liked fucking, Steve, and you let me fuck the others when you don’t need me…. So it ought to have been all right when you wanted me to fuck Andy. But… Oh, Steve, I can’t tell you much it makes me sad to know I’m never going to have a son, never going to have a lad like Andy to call me ‘dad’ and to learn from me and to take to the pub and stuff like that…. And I reckon I’d started feeling that Andy as a bit like a son to me, and it’s not right to fuck your son, is it, Steve?”

I went to say something, but he went on “Let me finish….  No, I reckon it’s not right, well, not for some fathers and sons a least.  But you made me do it, Steve, and at first I was so furious, so angry, that I needed every shred of self control to stop me beating you to the slime I thought you were.  And using the threat of punishing Andy to make me do it was despicable.    But you know, Steve, it wasn’t all that bad – and Andy didn’t seem particularly harmed by it, so I suppose you were right in a way – we’re both slaves, after all, and it might bring us together.”

He paused, and I lay there silently.  I’d never heard Joe say so much before, and somehow I doubted I would ever again, so it was best to let him speak.  “But having Andy fuck me, Steve…. That was wrong, I reckon, and I think you know it was wrong, which is why you had to cuff me to stop me lashing out at you. You shouldn’t make a young kid like that fuck when he doesn’t want to…..  But when he got started, I saw that he did want to, Steve.  You couldn’t see his eyes, but I could.  He wasn’t gloating with his power, as you do, Steve, when you fuck me and your face changes to that totally dominating and controlling one.”    He saw me look surprised, and went on “Yes, you do.  You may start out smiling, but once your cock is thrusting in me, you’re totally different.  But Andy wasn’t like that – the more he fucked me, the more he seemed to be showing how much he cared about me….”

Look, Joe’s a big, tough guy, and blokes like that don’t cry, do they?  But as Joe went on, his voice was getting somehow huskier, and I could see a film of moisture forming in his eyes.  It made me embarrassed, actually – I’m not sure I want to see a man cry.

“Oh Steve, forget the fucking!  It was the look, Steve.  Andy loves me, Steve.”

I had to speak now.  “Joe, hold on there…. Look, Andy’s a kid still and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.  And I like you Joe, and I’ve known you for a long time, and I don’t want you to be hurt….”

“Steve…. You don’t understand.  You’ve never been in love.  I’ve seen you around for a long time now, and you fuck me and some of the other slaves, but you don’t love anyone, not really.  So you can’t understand what it’s like, you can’t understand how you feel when you really love someone, Steve.  It doesn’t matter if they’re young, like Andy, or old. All that matters is that you want them, you need them, you love them…. And it’s not the sex, either…. It doesn’t matter, Steve – I’d love Andy even if I couldn’t fuck him, or if you made him fuck me….”

I wanted to tell him.  Really I did.  I wanted to kiss dear, reliable, lovely Joe, and tell him.  Tell him that I did know exactly what love was like.  Tell him that he was wrong, that I was in love, and had been for years.  Tell him that I had the love of my life, and I had no need for any other.  Tell him that all the casual sex I had with him, and some of the other slaves sometimes, was just that – something to pass the time until I could next be with Dan.  But something held me back, some stupid thing that prevented me from telling this kind, gentle man that I did know what love was all about – the joy of it, the despair of it, the happiness, the unhappiness, the anticipation….  But I couldn’t say it.  Sometimes I wish we could go back and do things differently.  If only we had the luxury of being able to roll back history and re-do things that we got wrong the first time – but this life is the only one we get, isn’t it – it’s not a rehearsal, and I fluffed this scene.  How fantastic it would have been to have a friend, a true friend, who I could tell everything to, who I could confide in, and tell all about Dan, my lovely Dan, and the way I adored him and wanted him but couldn’t have him.  It might have made it more bearable.

But the moment passed, and now Joe’s outburst had caused a tear to break free of the corner of his eye and roll down his cheek.  My heart went out for him, as I knew the sort of thing he must be feeling – the joy at having found a true love, the thrill of imagining what he and Andy might do next….  I felt like crying myself, not only because of the emotion of seeing Joe like that, but because I contrasted Joe’s simple honesty with my own life of deception, and felt so desperately sad.  I leaned my weight up on one elbow, and gently stroked the tear from Joe’s cheek. “What’s the matter, mate?  You ought to be happy….”

“Of course I am, Steve – but it won’t last, will it? You just can’t be this happy for ever and ever… “

I felt a twinge of unease.  Had Dan and me been happy for too long?  Had we actually ever been happy, deliriously happy, as Joe seemed to be?    “It can last, Joe.  Of course it can.  Some people meet their one true love and that’s it, for the rest of their lives…..”

Joe was deadly serious now.  “You may be right, Steve.  It happens in the women’s magazines, I suppose.  The hero and the heroine live happily ever after in all those stories.  But it won’t happen to us, I reckon….”

“Joe, you’ve only just fallen in love with the kid, and reckon he loves you, too…. It’s a bit much to be planning to break up….”

“Steve, we’re slaves, remember?  It would be hard enough for two blokes to live together If they were free.  As slaves, it’s nigh on impossible – you can sell one or other of us tomorrow, and then we’d never see each other again…..”

My heart went out to him once more, and some of you may think I was overly sentimental, because as I looked down at him, another tear ran out of the corner of his eye and my normal self control faltered.  I lowered my voice, and whispered “Joe, listen to me, and believe it.  I promise you I’ll never sell you, or Andy. Never. Not as long as I live.”

I was amazed to hear myself say this – I mean, buying and selling slaves ought just to be a simple matter of business, oughtn’t it?  But there, I’d said it.  Of course, I didn’t have to keep to it, as an owner’s “promises” to a slave he owns aren’t worth anything at all.  But I did mean it, as I said it, I suppose.  And I knew that at any moment I might join Joe in crying, and I couldn’t do that – an owner can’t be seen to be weak in front of his slave.  So I kissed him firmly on the mouth, so he knew I was serious, then quick as a flash moved my mouth down to his left nip and gave him a quick, sharp bite, so his body convulsed, and he started to laugh (Joe’s nips are really sensitive!). “Actually, Joe”, I then said, “I think I ought to change that promise – so I’ll not sell Andy unless you want me to.  So you know that whenever he gets too much for you, there’s a simple out….”

He knew I was joking, but there’s always some underlying truth in the best jokes, isn’t there?  He looked at me again, and now the tears were streaming down his face again.  “Steve, I called you a bastard…. But you’re a nice one.”

To be continued …

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