The Selection

I'm still working SirTom. Promise! But this little gem got to burning inside me. Felt good to navigate away from the guys at the porn factory for a bit! Hope you enjoy.

The Selection

he's been a good boy for the last two weeks. Today has been the epitome of at least showing a change in behavior. I still worry that those changes haven't become ingrained, but good training takes time, and the boy deserves a reward, a positive reinforcement for his efforts. Dinner is completely his effort, from planning the menu, shopping, cooking, to serving Me throughout. I enjoy My meal immensely. he cleans up the table and kitchen quickly and quietly. he lights My cigar and kneels next to Me holding the ashtray, his head bowed appropriately.

***

Two weeks ago he'd completely stepped over the line, showing complete disrespect for Me. I'd invited two friends over.. We were to have dinner then spend a little time in our dungeon. Just Me and the friends. No boy. boy had shown his displeasure from the outset. he'd banged pots and pans while making dinner, begrudgingly served the dinner, and banged pots and pans in the kitchen while cleaning up. his little passive-aggressive pouting embarrassed Me in front of My friends. I saw them making quick glances at each other throughout the dinner.

Halfway through the cleanup I left the table, encouraging My friends to go ahead down to the dungeon. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the boy by the collar. Continuing his disrepect he left his hands dangling at his sides and had the audacity to look Me in the eye without permission. "This is totally unacceptable," I'd told him. In a whiny, childlike, hip-to-one-side motion, he continued his defiance. "Why?" became a 6 syllable excruciating sound exhaled from his pouting lips.

I'd wanted to slap him. I didn't. I'd whispered slowly and clearly, "Please leave the kitchen. Get in your cage in My bedroom. Padlock the door shut. Chain your collar to the ceiling of the cage so that you are unable to lie down. Think through the events of this evening and work out where My displeasure arises from. I will check in on you later."

***

Tonight he's a different boy, or at least I think he is. He's more focused, more attentive, and yes, more submissive. Is he acting the role, or living his calling? I can't be sure.

"Dinner was excellent, boy."

"Thank you, Sir."

I see a small shiver in his neck. The boy is pleased by My comment.

"Is the kitchen clean, boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do I need to inspect, boy?"

"If Sir wishes."

"I believe boy."

I see the shiver again, slightly larger, traveling down his naked body.

"boy should go to the dungeon and wait for Me."

There's a tremor in his head. I know he wants to look up at Me. He doesn't move.

"Why does boy not follow My orders immediately?"

he takes a long time to answer. "boy doesn't believe he has earned this yet, Sir. what boy did was so bad he wouldn't blame Sir for never forgiving boy."

There is sincerity in his voice. His chin never lifts. I can see a quiver in his body. boy is near tears. I lift his chin. boy's eyes are still cast downward.

"boy should go to the dungeon. Select one item. One. Place it on the table. Then kneel in the middle of the dungeon and wait for Me. Sir will reward boy by using that one item on boy."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

boy leaves the dining room and heads for the dungeon. I give him plenty of time to make his selection, and to kneel, waiting for Me. I savor the cigar, and I think back to how W/we met.

***

MasterRon introduced us at the leather bar. He'd called Me and asked Me to show up that night. Said He wanted to introduce Me to someone special. That night the boy was wearing tight, ragged denims, tight white t-shirt, and cheap boots bought from the local Army surplus store. his hair was a crappy style a lot of younger guys were wearing. he was clearly a fire-cracker ready to explode. And totally unfocused. The boy eyed Me up and down and clearly liked what he saw. But there was a huge load of defiance in him. The boy took off shortly after the introduction, drawn by the possibility that better things existed for him elsewhere in the bar.

"he's a handful." MasterRon chuckled. "I thought you might like to take a crack at him."

"he is indeed a challenge. What's his story?"

"New to town. No real family. Works at a Jiffy Lube. Is here almost every night. I played with him a couple of times, but I've got no room in my schedule for another boy. Especially a boy who needs that much training."

"And you thought of Me?"

MasterRon snorted, "And No One else."

I'd recently removed the collar from a boy who needed to move on in his life. MasterRon knew my cage was empty. Later that night I felt the boy in the background, looking Me over. He finally made eye contact with Me and I motioned him over to where I stood.

"Tired of looking around?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you should come home with Me. And that could have happened three hours ago. But you had to look for that one guy who might be just a bit bigger or better than Me. Don't ever waste My time again. Do you understand?"

There was a flare in his eyes. Defiance mixed with testosterone. He clumsily bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Sir." The apology lacked an ounce of sincerity. The kid was horny and playing a game to get what he wanted. "Where's your car, boy?"

"No car. I walked."

"Let's go. You'll ride with Me."

***

I go upstairs and remove my boots and Levis putting on a harness and tall boots. I check the mirror. It is what I do that makes Me who I am, I remind myself. I wonder what the boy will have chosen as his one item for play this evening. A paddle? A flogger? A hood? The electro? The fucking machine? W/we've used them all. he's loved them all.

I go down to the dungeon. boy is kneeling in the center of the room, head bowed. I can see a smudge of wetness on his cheek. his dick is rigid.

"Has boy been playing with himself?"

"No, Sir." I believe him.

"Has boy masturbated once in the past two weeks?"

"No, Sir."

"Does boy believe that Sir has boy's best interests at heart?"

he does not answer immediately. Then, in a whisper, "Completely, Sir."

I walk to the table to see what the boy has chosen for Me to use. There in the center of the table is a simple glove. The left glove only. A policeman's wrist length glove. Light, supple, well-broken in. I am astounded at the boy's choice. he has made a selection well beyond what his training would suggest. My mind floods with the possibilities of how I might use it.

I walk to the boy, his head still bowed. "Is boy sure of his selection?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy."

Again he shivers, alive from the praise I've given sincerely.

I dangle the glove in front of his nose. "Smell, boy."

he takes a deep breath and I see his dick bounce a bit.

***

That first night together I flogged him mercilessly. I tied him to the St. Andrew's cross, gagged him, and flogged him to within an inch of his life. he screamed through the gag. I'd offered no safe words to him. he'd asked for none. The entire time, without ever touching it, his cock was rock hard, long strings of precum dripping to the dungeon floor. When I knew he'd gone over the edge of the cliff I stopped. I rubbed my hands gently on his back, slowly bringing him back to the here and now. And he shot his load. Without My ever touching his dick.

***

I slowly pull on the glove where I know that he can see Me doing it. he is transfixed. Hypnotized. his breathing is ragged. I see the first of his beautiful precum strings slowly drip from his boycock.

***

After cumming I let the boy free and held him in My arms. he sobbed uncontrollably. I knew it wasn't from the flogging, but the release of the real boy within. I took him to My bed and held him close. I asked simple questions about his life. he offered long stories in response. W/we talked until late morning, then fell asleep, him curled beside Me.

That afternoon I took him to the apartment he shared with some low-life. he packed up his few possessions and moved in with Me. That night I presented him with a contract. It was simple and straightforward. I would offer him the best training any potential boy might wish for. I would not abuse him. he would contribute as best he could to the household expenses. he would stop going to the bar unless he was with Me. he was to continue working. he would save money. he would perform household duties. he would perform sexual duties. he would trust me to give him the education he needed. he could void the contract at anytime and would be free to go.

It was a three month contract. he signed it. And training began.

***

I step behind the boy and slowly cover his mouth and nose with My gloved left hand. he breathes deeply through My spread fingers, inhaling the rich leather smell. It is his last breath for 30 seconds as I close my fingers and pinch his nostrils. Only at the very end do I feel a little struggle in him. his dick has grown even harder. More precum is puddling on the floor.

I pull the boy to his feet. he keeps his head down, his arms rigid behind him, high above his waist, completely submissive, completely comfortable in this position.

I run my left hand over his smooth torso inspecting the muscle growth he has gained while with Me. Cutting the alcohol from his diet has made him lean and strong. his skin is pliable and clear of blemishes. I feed him well and he eats like a horse. he dives into his new workout regiment without complaint and continually pushes himself to achieve more.

I grasp his right nipple and begin to toy with it between my leather-covered thumb and forefinger. It becomes taut. I move to his left nipple and repeat the process.

"I will pierce these soon, boy. Yes?"

"It would be an honor to have them pierced for You, Sir."

I move My left hand down his chest and over his abs. I carefully circumvent his dick and bring my gloved hand to his balls. It is cool in the dungeon and they are high and tight. I cup them allowing the warmth of the leather glove to relax them. I begin to stretch them, the leather gloved hand tight around them. he does not flinch.

***

Breaking the boy was the hardest thing I'd ever done. he had no clue what discipline was. he was out of control and spiraling downward, seemingly happy in that path. After three days his ass was black and blue from the paddlings I'd given him. he sassed me, fought me, argued with me, disobeyed me, and constantly challenged My decisions. he shirked his house-cleaning duties and was frequently late coming home from work. he spoke without being given permission, and expressed his dismay at not having sex multiple times a day. he told me he usually jerked off at least three times a day and that his sex life was a helluva lot better before he'd met me. he hung upside down from the ceiling for an hour for that comment.

After a week I presented him with the signed contract and told him I would be happy to tear it up if that was what he wished. he would be free to go.

***

I touch the tip of his dick gathering precum on the middle finger of My left hand. The leather is slimy and covered in his rich, salty juice. I place the finger to his lips. he does not move.

"Lick."

he needs no further encouragement. his tongue flicks quickly over the finger tasting his own precum mixed with the leather.

"Suck."

he devours My finger, hungry for it, and desperate to please Me.

***

The boy shook uncontrollably, as if he'd been plunged naked into a snowdrift, looking at the contract, then Me. he gulped air trying to hold back tears and muttered something I couldn't hear.

"Speak up, boy," I told him.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"I hate that phrase, boy, and you know it. Get honest. With Me and yourself. Either you want this or you don't. Either you trust Me or you don't."

"I trust You, Sir. I want this, Sir."

***

I pull the leathered finger from his mouth. I run My hand over his smooth head, first shaved the night he told Me he trusted me. With My left hand on his neck, cradling it, I pull him forward to My own left nipple.

"Lick."

The boy licks with a vengeance. I growl at the feeling of his tongue on Me. I revel in the fact that this once selfish boy, who saw himself as the center of the sexual universe, can now find satisfaction in serving My sexual needs. I guide the boy's head to My other nipple. he waits for the command.

"Lick."

The boy never wavers. He is totally focused on Me. When I growl or moan at the pleasure he brings Me, he takes a huge breath and dives into My furry chest with renewed vigor.

I pull a chair over to the center of the dungeon and sit. "Over My knee, boy."

boy does not hesitate. With hands still behind his back he places himself over My knee, his exposed ass in the air. he's learned to balance, perched precariously on tiptoe.

"Why does Sir spank boy?" I ask.

"To remind boy of his place. To punish boy when he has been bad or disobeyed Sir. To remind boy how much Sir cares for boy."

"Good boy."

***

We started over. This time around the boy took his training seriously. He progressed quickly and I rewarded him liberally. Too liberally, I wondered?

I structured his day down to the last minute. I taught him to see his cage as a refuge. I gave him books about BDSM to read. I quizzed him on his understanding of those resources I gave him permission to speak freely to Me each day, asking questions about the training, about his role, about his future. I made him study for his work so that he could advance beyond the simple tasks he was doing. I gave him 30 minutes a day on the computer to write in a journal. I allowed him a password on the document so that he could have that bit of privacy. I set his physical regiment. I taught him to cook. I shaved him. I collared him. W/we ceremoniously burned all his clothes except for his work uniforms. And I taught him to see sexuality as giving, not taking. He developed a hunger for My cock. He frequently went to his cage having not cum, but happy that I had rewarded him with My load. I could see happiness in his eye when he left for work. I could see greater happiness when he came home.

***

Using my left hand I caress the boy's smooth cheeks. I begin the process of a slow, erotic spanking. I stay far away from major pain levels. Still, the boy is squirming in My lap. I chuckle to Myself. This squirm is not from pain, but because with each smack I can feel his boycock rubbing against My left thigh. He will not last long, having not cum for two weeks.

***

I asked him to explain his horrid behavior toward My guests. he replied only that it would never happen again. he stoically accepted the savage beating I gave him for ruining the evening. he dove into his work and his duties. But I feared I had somehow snuffed out a little light inside him. That had never been My goal. I vowed to slowly rebuild him, allowing him to rebuild himself.

***

he's breathing hard now. I know he's close to cumming.

"Stand up, boy."

he hops to his feet, quickly assuming his submissive stance. I walk behind him and whisper in his ear, "you have pleased Me greatly. I want you to cum for Me, boy."

I reach around and grasp his dick with My leathered hand. I apply ever-increasing pressure and slowly begin to stroke. In no time the boy is gasping for air. I turn him toward the full length mirror on the wall.

"Lift your chin, boy. I want you to watch Me stroke you. I want you to know I care for you. I want you to see that in My eyes, boy."

I resume the slow stroking, staring at the boy in mirror. His eyes are focused on Mine. I see them begin to roll back in his head. I know he's on the point of shooting.

"Stay with Me, boy. Focus. Give your cum to Me, boy."

his eyes come back in focus. he is quivering all over. he is crying it is so painful. he explodes.


***

I allow him to sleep with me again. In the morning I awake to find him curled up clutching the hair on my chest. he opens his eyes, looks into Mine, blushes and lowers his chin.

"I have three questions, boy."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Why did you behave so badly when My friends came for dinner?"

"i was afraid, Sir. i was afraid that you didn't need me in Your life, that i was just a 'project' for You."

"Is that all?"

"i knew my contract was up soon, tomorrow in fact, and felt that You would be sure not to renew it."

I take time to absorb his answers.

"Why select the glove, boy?"

"So that i would be close to You, Sir, at least one more time, so that i would feel Your hand on me."

"I have one more question, boy."

"That would make four questions, Sir."

I laugh. "'Is that all?' doesn't count, smartass."

I feel his smile buried in my chest.

"Yes, Sir."

"What say you and I go make breakfast and then work on a new contract after W/we're done?"

"Yes, Sir!"

I smack his slightly pink buttocks and realize I am still wearing the leather glove.

SirTom Enterprises, Part XI

The next morning I didn’t wake up until Ed began to unlock, unlace, and unzip the hood I’d worn all night. Somewhere in the middle of the night he’d been kind enough to undo the sock bondage on my wrists. He was such a pup in the bed as he finally pulled the hood off me. “C’mon! Get up! We’re in San Francisco for godsake! Time’s wasting!”

“I assume you have coffee for me,” I muttered as I stumbled to the bathroom.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK,” I screamed from behind the bathroom door.

Ed rushed in, expecting to find me dead on the floor. Instead he found me peering into the mirror. “Look at my face! I have hood face! Holy shit! I can’t go out like this!” The seams in the leather hood had made a deep tattoo all across my face and the rest of my shaved hood. A full 8 hours in it had left deep marks.

Ed slapped my butt. “Take a long shower, put a cold washcloth on your face, and I’ll be a good pup and go get you a very large coffee. You’re going out with me today if I have to drag you in collar and leash.”

An hour later I was looking only slightly strange and, like Ed, quite ready to hit the streets. The air was crisp and we’d worn our leather jackets. It was one of the many things I loved about San Francisco, leather jackets were possible almost 12 months a year. I chuckled as we walked. I was in the mood to stroll, Ed kept racing ahead then racing back to urge me to walk faster. In yet another way I was reminded of his pup energy.

As we walked I kept thinking of the man who’d given me his card at dinner the previous night. And I kept thinking of Ed’s intelligent outlook about men who overlooked him. And I kept thinking of the incredible night I’d spent with SirTom. And inside my pocket was the card that had been handed to me last evening. It simply said “Frank Guthrie” followed by a phone number. We’d reached a CD store and Ed was dying to go inside. I sent him in alone and found a low curb where I could stretch out.

Not sure what was drawing me, I took out my cell phone and dialed the number on the engraved card. The phone rang 4 times and I was about to hang up when the voice I’d only heard for a few words last night answered.

“Alan! I’m so glad you called!”

I was a bit speechless. “I’m sorry, but how do you know my name?”

“Caller ID. Your name came up when you called and I figured with the 770 area code you must be from Atlanta. The number you called is one I rarely give out. Very rarely. It pleases me to no end that you made the call though, boy.”

“Look. I don’t really appreciate being called boy. Especially not by someone I’ve not ever even met.”

“I’m so very sorry you feel that way, Alan. And I apologize. It was silly of me to assume that you always went by that role. And you have to understand, having watched you on the screen in your many magnificent scenes, and having rewatched all of those scenes, well, of course I do know a great deal more about you than you do about me.”

“I’m not even sure why I called. As a courtesy to a client of SirTom Enterprises, I guess. I have to tell you I was a little creeped out when you recognized me last night as that was one of my original fears when I signed on with them.”

“But you know that I have a great deal more to lose than you if any one were to recognize me as a client of that site. So trust me, your secret is quite safe. I assume that you will also respect my privacy relative to this.”

“That goes without saying. I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone know about any client of SirTom’s. But you gave me a card with your name on it. That doesn’t scare you?”

Frank Guthrie chortled. “Frank Guthrie is not my real name. I don’t have a recognizable face as the work I do keeps me out of public view, but my real name I can promise you has appeared in many newspapers day after day. I keep a very low profile, but most of the world would recognize me by name.”

“I see. Well, I want to let you know that I appreciate what you said about being a ‘fan’ of mine. It’s very flattering and I hope that you’ll enjoy the good many scenes coming up, both of me and the rest of the men I work with.” It sounded so “canned” but I was hoping to put up a wall between us, one that was professional, and hopefully leading to closure.

“Alan, I’d like to meet you. Do you think that might be possible this evening?”

So much for those hopes. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that, Mr. Guthrie.” I paused. “Is that what I should call you, Sir?”

He chuckled. “Well, Sir, has a nice ring to it. But for now, yes, Mr. Guthrie will be fine. The restaurant we ate dinner at last night has a private room upstairs. They save it exclusively for me when I’m in town. You would do me a great honor to join me. Just to talk, to savor a nice meal together. Say yes, Alan, it would be a little dream come true for me.”

My brain was spinning. But nothing was coming out of my mouth.

“I’d be happy to make a little contribution to SirTom Enterprises if that’s what you’re thinking about. Or I can make that contribution directly to you, if you’d prefer.”

I sputtered, “Oh, no! That’s not it at all! In fact I’d rather you not! I’m fairly new to this as you know. I’m just not sure if it’s ‘protocol’ for us actors to meet with the clients of SirTom.”

“Alan, I admire your integrity. Just another reason I want to meet you. Let’s do this: I’ll have a car call for you at 8:00 tonight. Leave this number with your friend for your own safety. I’ll meet you at the restaurant, we’ll dine, we’ll chat, and I’ll have you back to your hotel no later than 11:00. I would think SirTom would be quite happy to know that you were solidifying a union with one of his original investors and happy clients!”

I gave in. Why not. This man had caught my attention last night. I can’t lie about that. And I really could justify that by having dinner I’d be helping SirTom and the company. I gave “Mr. Guthrie” the address of the B&B and we hung up, him obviously much happier than I about the arrangements.

Ed came out of the CD store, a pretty good sized bag hanging from his hand. “C’mon, old man. I think I better get some food in you and get you home for a nap.”

We ate, we cabbed it back to the B&B, Ed modeled all his new clothing for me, and I let Ed know about Frank Guthrie and the dinner meeting. A crease in his eyebrows appeared as I finished describing the phone call. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

“No, I’m not, quite honestly.” Something was “off” about all of this, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “I know it’s harmless, a dinner in public, and it’s a little ego trip for me to have a “fan” want so much to spend time with me. But I’m a little like you…just not sure it’s the right thing to do.”

Ed proved the smarter of us. “Let’s call SirTom. He’ll want to know about this and he’ll have good advice.”

“Once more that good breeding comes through. If I could only learn to think with my brain, rather than my dick.”

I tried calling ST Enterprises, got through to Davey, but he let me know SirTom had left for the day. He’d forward me to voicemail, but also do his best to get hold of SirTom. “How’s it going out there? You guys are having a lot of fun, yes? Oh! And I’m glad you called. The appointment with the metal craftsman has been changed to 1:00 tomorrow afternoon. You have the address. And don’t be on gay-time tomorrow. This guy is VERY hard to get with, but is absolutely the very best at what he does.”

Davey transferred me to SirTom’s voice mail and I left a fairly detailed story of what had occurred with “Frank Guthrie.” I shared with Ed the change in appointments for tomorrow.

“From the sounds of it SirTom wasn’t there.”

“Nope. So I guess I have to make this decision myself. I’m going to call Mr. Guthrie and postpone our meeting until I’ve had a chance to talk with SirTom. I don’t want to offend the client but it’s clear we both have something bothering us about all of this. I believe in red flags and paying heed to them.”

Ed was thrilled with my decision and complimented me on my own clear thinking. “Guess you got some good breeding too! I would love to see what our love-children would turn out to look like.”

I called the number from the card I’d been given so I could break off the dinner date. All I could do was a leave a message as Mr. Guthrie didn’t answer. I took a deep breath to put it all behind me and looked at Ed perched on his chair across the room. Those puppy dog eyes had a glint in them. “Get over here,” I said.

He pounced from the chair over to the bed where I was laying while making the phone call. From under the pillow I pulled the demonic hood I’d bought yesterday. “I think you need to help me break this in. Now turn around. Trust me, you’ll sleep better for our nap, and if you’re really good to me I’ll promise to take it off before we go out tonight!”

I tried calling twice more before 8:00 to let Mr. Guthrie know of the cancellation but each time I got voice mail. I left him my number so that I could apologize and explain person to person, but I never heard back from him. I also checked voice mail several times hoping there’d be a call from SirTom, but no luck. Finally I dozed for a bit cuddled up with the hooded Ed.

At a little after 9:00 that night I woke with a start. There was a pounding at the door and simultaneously my cell phone was ringing. “I’ll be right there!” I hollered at the closed door. Ed was still sound asleep, oblivious to the outside world, safely locked in the thick hood. I grabbed the phone and answered.

“Alan! This is SirTom. I just received your message…..”

“SirTom! I am so glad you called back. Listen someone’s knocking at the door, can you hold on a minute?”

“Alan, NO!” But I’d already laid the phone on the bed and gone to the door to open it.

A Small Circle of Life

Back in the 80s and 90s there was a serious comment about our sexuality when we were warned that having sex with a person was in essence like having sex with every person your chosen partner had slept with. It was a good common sense warning to have safe sex. Always.

I've been reminded of that for two reasons. One is the absolutely horrid response I have to seeing all of the profiles looking for barebacking, "seeding", etc. Any justification that is offered for these dangerous activities is just wrong. Completely wrong. Insanely wrong.

The other reminder I had was more on an emotional level. Hubby and I like to play with other men and other couples. And yes, we practice safe sex always. But I'm still reminded that the actual community of real bdsm players, not the flakes, not the voyeurs, not the wannabes, is actually very small. And trust me, we talk. Okay, so some don't "kiss and tell" but most of us do. Maybe it's bragging, maybe it works as foreplay, maybe it's sharing a warning about someone who doesn't play by the rules, or maybe it's a recommendation that he's a "real player." But we DO talk.

Our "circle of life" is incredibly small. Places like RECON and RubberZone and other social sites make it even smaller. It's like playing "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon". I click on a profile and am never surprised to see that we have mutual "friends." Or if we are not directly linked, I usually can click on one of your friends and then look at HIS list of friends, and yup, there's one of my fuck buddy "friends."

Disrespect, dishonesty, outright lying, "no limits" men who can't take a light paddling, pricks who don't show up, etc.? These guys are known to us all. Names are shared, warnings are given, and SURPRISE SURPRISE, your dance card is empty. Meanwhile, those men who truly understand respect, honesty, care, consensual sane acts are equally known in our "circle of life."

Play safely, play honestly, play hard, and grab your opportunities.