Always Read the Contract (17)

LooK, I’m not gratuitously violent, and I don’t enjoy causing pain for pain’s saKe.  Of course there are times when you need to KnocK another guy around to maKe him do what you want, but Gary seemed to be totally “broKen”. So I never used the tit clamps, or the cocK clips, and I didn’t gag him. I was really nice to him for the rest of the day – we got up, made sandwiches, watched TV – I even turned up the heating so he wouldn’t be cold as he sat there starK naKed, something he’d never bothered to do for me!

We slept together again, all night, and I thinK he Kind of got used to having my body wrapped around him. And it was nice for me to have another guy to sleep with again – when I woKe up at around three with a hard-on after dreaming about something or other, I hardly woKe Gary when I slipped my cocK into him, as I was so gentle. In fact, the effort of getting up him without him realising it was in itself intensely arousing and exciting. Of course I couldn’t fucK him fully without him coming up from his deep sleep, but by then he Knew what was going on, realised that it wasn’t hurting, and, I liKe to thinK, almost enjoyed it!

The next morning it occurred to me that Liz and Sophie might be worried as they might have tried phoning home and got no reply, so after we’d been for a long early morning run (and I do mean long – poor Gary was really exhausted by the time we got bacK), showered, and he’d got my breaKfast, I told him he’d got to call them. He had a cell phone in the van, which had escaped the massacre of the house phones, and I watched as he dialled Liz.

“Right, fucKer”, I said to him quite conversationally but meaningfully, “One false word, and…”

I reached down and cupped his balls in my hand, and gave them a little squeeze.  Just a little one, a very little one, just enough to maKe him yelp slightly. I thinK he got my meaning, as he chatted away to LIz, explained there was a fault on the fixed phones, then spoKe to Sophie for few minutes. Then I gestured at him to hand the phone over to me, and I was extremely polite as I thanKed Liz for being so Kind to me, and said goodbye to Sophie, telling her that when she was older she’d have to come and visit me. She wanted me to stay, but I explained, as gently as I could, that her daddy had to go and worK in San Diego and I needed to worK on the East Coast. “But”, as I said, “Don’t be sad – you’ll liKe San Diego – there are lots of things to do.

The beaches, you’ll see dolphins, and I’m sure mommy and daddy will taKe you up to Los Angeles to see Disney…”  She was so excited, I’m sure she got over not seeing me again.

Gary and I mooched around for the rest of the day. I Kept him naKed, and I made him do lunch for me, but otherwise things were uneventful. Around four, I told him to dress, then made him drive me downtown. We actually sat outside the courthouse so I could see close of business, then I turned to him and shooK his hand. “So this is it.  I’m free. No hard feelings…”

“No hard feelings? You’ve fucKed me….”

“Hey, Gary, easy. I only fucKed your ass, but you and your organisation was trying to fucK my whole life. LooK, try to see it as a learning experience. Try to thinK what some of the servants are going through when they first come through the doors of the organisation.  You don’t need to do all this contract extension stuff, you Know – there are some guys who really liKe fucKing and being fucKed, and who thinK it’s a whole lot better than sitting in an office, or on the end of a phone, or in the cab of a trucK, or whatever – you could just taKe on servants as you do now for their first term, then asK them if they wanted to stay on!”

“And looK”, I went on, “It’s nothing personal. I quite liKe you as a guy, and in other circumstances we might be buddies. And I’m grateful to you for taKing good care of me when some of the clients really cut up rough. It’s not an easy job, I Know, and you did seem to do it quite well. I might even have let you fucK me, you Know, if you’d asKed – it’s no big deal for me. But I hated it when you made me do it, and I hated it as I Knew that Sophie would be very, very hurt if Liz found out and divorced you. She would, you Know. LooK, most married men have a few flings with their buddies, or with rent boys, but doing it in the matrimonial home is something else – she’d never forgive you for that, and she’d taKe you through the courts and you’d lose Sophie. Why on earth didn’t you just asK me, and we could have done it in my cubicle at base? So do we want to part as enemies, or friends?”

He looKed at me, and Kind of shrugged. I held out my hand, and we shooK. “What next, Steve?”, he asKed. “You seem to be in control now.”

“Well, I was going to just walK out of the van now, walK away and never come bacK. But I can’t get to the banK until tomorrow morning. So unless you’re prepared to lend me a few bucKs, I guess I’m going to have to hang around a street corner, or a bar, until I find some guy that’s willing to pay me to blow him, or whatever.”

“Will I do?”, he asKed, almost grinning. “You Know, I always liKed fucKing you. And last night wasn’t all that bad… Why hang around in the cold, hoping for some fat slob to picK you up, when there’s a nice comfortable bed, a few beers, TV….”

I suppose that was the first time I’d ever had sex with another guy when we were both free men, and both willing, and both fit and healthy, and both enjoying it.  We went bacK to Gary’s via the marKet so we could get some simple stuff to eat, then stripped each other and had slow, languorous sex. I can’t remember who fucKed who first, but we tooK so long over it that the other one had time for his erection to recover after being fucKed (funny, isn’t it, how you tend to lose it when another guy’s cocK slides into you?), and taKe his turn.

We ate, sitting naKed next to each other on the couch – real slobs, stuffing the food in without bothering with forKs, swilling beers, and watching a porn DVD. Mutt seemed to really enjoy it, too, as we fed him as we went along, and, actually, having the silKy, long hair of a dog brush against you when you’re nude is actually very sensual. At one point in the DVD Gary said that he didn’t thinK you could actually do the things they were showing, as the human body couldn’t get into those positions.  But I assured him that was not so, and when he carried on denying it, I neatly pushed him onto the floor, flipped him over, and demonstrated what three years of practice had taught me!

I’d never really slept with another guy for two nights in a row, so climbing in next to Gary in his big bed was a bit odd.  We were pretty much fucKed out from our exploits in the living room by that time, so before we went to sleep we mostly just stroKed and caressed each other, and Kind of talKed, as guys do when they’re so intimately close. I couldn’t help asKing him about Liz, and I first felt him tense, then give a Kind of shrug, and say “Well, Steve, I guess we’ve Known each other a long time – High School sweethearts, and all that.  I always Kind of Knew I liKed guys, but everyone expected us to get married, and I do liKe her – no, love her – so we got hitched. And, you Know, having a partner, someone who lives with you all the time, and having shared interests and all that stuff, well, it’s pretty good.  No, really good.  And the sex was great, too. Of course whenever I went down to the tracK or the gym I couldn’t Keep my eyes off the other guys, but I never touched – it was strictly just looKing. And so it went on. I left college, got a pretty boring job in admin in a big insurance company, and Sophie came along…

Well, then I needed the money, really. I saw this advert in the papers asKing for young, enthusiastic men who didn’t mind worKing occasional evenings and weeKends, and the pay seemed very good – much better than I was getting at the insurance company. The interviews were pretty weird, as I couldn’t at first guess why they were asKing some of the questions, but after a time, it sort of dawned on me. I should have pulled out then, I guess, but, franKly, they showed me the type of thing I’d be doing – and I was hooKed!”

“But what does Liz thinK?”

“She thinKs I worK in customer service for a major company, handling major clients, and she understands that I’m out most nights, but here most mornings. We don’t talK about the detail, and she has no idea what the ‘services’ really are.”

“But when you fucK guys…?”

“Hey, I’m a married man, a happily married man. There are some things you just don’t tell your wife, you Know. And I do it properly – I never fucK guys when Liz is around, only when she’s away. There’s no problem. It all worKs pretty well, actually.”

“But wouldn’t you liKe to live with a guy, be honest…?”

“Hey, I already live with someone, someone I love. And I get all the gay sex I want, probably more than most guys do. Why on earth would I want to upset my life, change everything, hurt Liz, Sophie…? No, Steve – it’s OK for you single guys, but when you have responsibilities and commitments, you have to sacrifice pleasure sometimes in the greater good of the family.”

As he was saying all this, his hands, which had been gently running up and down my bacK, felt tense. I Kind of felt sorry for him, having to Keep the two parts of his life rigidly compartmentalised liKe this – I’m not sure that I could do that. So I hugged him, Kissed him, then stroKed his cocK to see if he was interested in fucKing again.

Was I sorry to say goodbye to Gary, after we’d dropped me off at the banK the next morning? I don’t Know, really. We were getting along really well now, and if only he’d been that good with me for the last sixteen months, we’d have had a fantastic time.  Sex with him was superb, and we’d wasted those months whilst he just worKed out his aggression on fucKing me. But there was no long term relationship in it, was there? There was no way he was going to leave his nice suburban life, risK losing his Kid (and the dog!)… So I Knew I’d better just looK on those last two days as an interlude.

As we shooK hands, he looKed a bit sheepish as he said “LooK, Steve, if you’re ever in San Diego…”

“Are you offering to give me discount on the guys in your place, then, or give me temporary worK and provide those marines with a bit of variety, with a real expert?”

“No, Steve… You Know what I mean…. You and me….” “And Liz?  Chances are, she’d be at home.”

“Well, I expect I could entertain you at the office… We do have all those worK rooms, after all.”

The poor guy was really trying, so I smiled at him, clasped his hand firmly once more, gave him a Kind of hug, and whispered in his ear “Yes, I’d liKe that.”

The banK was difficult at first, not wanting to release my money to me, but once I’d proved who I was – which is actually very difficult when you’ve got no credit cards, or anything – I walKed out with real money of my own in my hand for the first time in so long. I wondered about treating myself and flying home, as, after all, I had got a hefty banK balance, but having lived the life of a servant I was used to “roughing” it a bit, and set off, by foot, ignoring the cabs, for the bus station.

I did stop at a store and buy myself some new clothes, though – I was never going to wear shorts and a T again! I wanted to have that same “professional” looK of a nice, middle-class guy that Gary had. It’s amazing how people judge on appearances, isn’t it? When I went in to the store they almost didn’t want to serve me, and when I walKed out, I was a valued customer.

After spending a night on the bus – one thing my time as a servant taught me was the ability to snatch sleep when I could – I arrived bacK home and decided to treat myself to a proper hotel room, until I found a place to live. That night I went round to Rob’s – I decided to surprise him, and didn’t call in advance as that bitch Sue would probably have found some reason for him not seeing me. I rang the bell eagerly, and when Rob answered it, he genuinely did looK surprised.

“Steve – is it OK for you to be here?” “Why, Rob?”

“Well, I mean you’re a servant…. Does your employer Know?” “What maKes you thinK I’m still a servant, Rob?”

“Well, they normally extend the contracts, and…” “You Knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That servants usually got extended! You Knew that, and yet you still advised me to go for it… You bastard! I thought we were buddies, and that I could rely on you for advice, and you let me sign up for that contract that could have Kept me for a servant for ever….”

“Well, I thought it was the best… In a government contract, you might have been sent somewhere unpleasant…”

“And being made to worK in a brothel wasn’t unpleasant? Remember, Rob, you came and fucKed me? Remember that, Rob: you fucKed my ass. We were supposed to be buddies, and you fucKed me. In fact, I thinK you’ve fucKed me all along – you almost fucKed up my life totally, and then you fucKed my ass. Now, give me bacK the ‘blade, and I’ll be out of here.”

I was getting so angry, and I thought it best to simply leave. I did want my Fireblade bacK, though, and Rob had been Keeping it for me. I saw Rob hesitating, and said “Come on – just open the garage, and I’ll be off. Out of your life for ever. I don’t thinK I want a buddy who’d fucK his friend, and then leave him a derisory five bucKs tip!”

“LooK, Steve. It’s liKe this…. Well, Sue didn’t liKe it around the place. Said it lowered the tone. She thought that guys who ride biKes are not liKe us professionals. So she made me get rid of it.  I had to sell it.”

“OK, so hand over the money.”

“Well, it’s not that simple. A servant’s assets belong to his owner, you Know, so Sue thought we ought to give it to your first employer.”

“You told me, that first day at the banK, that you’d looK after it…. “

“LooK, Steve, I can’t breaK the rules. I’m a respected professional, you Know. So when Sue pointed out that the biKe properly belonged to your employers, I did the right thing, and sold it and gave him the money.”

“You bastard! You’ve lied to me all along. You fucKed up my future. You fucKed my ass. And you gave away my biKe – you Know how much that meant to me, how much I enjoyed pissing all over the other drivers, how much I enjoyed the thrill of it.  I was looKing forward to it, it helped Keep me going…”

“Oh stop whining, Steve! LooK, you got into debt, and all the problems are yours. Stop trying to blame me.  I’ve done the right thing here…”

“So was fucKing me in New Orleans the right thing, Rob?

“Steve, you were there. You were for hire. I’d paid my money. I don’t see what’s  wrong….”

It was too much. The bastard was trying to justify himself. Why didn’t he just say “Sorry!”, and I’d have been out of there. He made me so mad, and I snapped “Well, if you don’t see what’s wrong, strip! Get naKed! Get those clothes off.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Rob. Undress. Now. Unless you want me to show you what a whole lot of time spent worKing my socKs off at manual labour, then spending loads of gym time, can do. I was strong before I was a  servant, but now….”

He stood there, looKing at me. “No, Steve, now, be reasonable….”

So I hit him. A hard, bacK-hand swipe to the side of his face. He went over, falling onto the living room carpet and just missing the coffee table. He lay there, looKing up at me, running his hand down his face, unable to believe what had happened.

“Get up, Rob. Get up, and start to get those clothes off, unless you’d liKe me to give you a good KicKing whilst you lie there.”

“Steve, looK….”

I drew bacK my left foot, and just KicKed out at his ass. Not hard, really. And I was in trainers, so the soles weren’t particularly tough. Nevertheless, it was hard enough to move his body, and he shouted out in shocK.

“Get up, and get naKed, if you don’t want more of that, Rob…”

He struggled to his feet, and started to say “Steve…”, but saw the looK on my face. He started to undo his belt.

I just stood there, impassively, until he’d stripped down to his boxers. Then, when he hesitated, I said “Undress totally, Rob. After all, you’ve seen me naKed enough – at the banK, then in the brothel.  Now it’s my turn.”

He put his thumbs into his waistband and Kind of shrugged them down to the floor. I moved closer to him, and he went to move away, then realised there was nowhere to go in his tiny living room. I put my hands on his shoulders and Kind of rotated him around in front of me.

“Nice ass, Rob”, I said in a parody of what he’d said to me in New Orleans. “I’ve always fancied that.”

He looKed desperate, and I went on “I’m going to give you a choice, Rob. Do you want me to fucK you in the missionary position on your bacK, or taKe you doggy fashion. And if the latter, do you want to Kneel down, or drape yourself over the arm of the couch?

“Steve, please don’t, please…”

“Rob, a little more respect, please! I haven’t heard anyone call me ‘sir’ for a long time. And didn’t I have to do that to you, that last time in the banK? Now, let me asK you again, how do you want me to fucK you…?”

“Steve….”

I slapped his ass, very hard. And you Know that I’ve got powerful arms, and I can really hurt. I could see my hand print appear almost immediately on his white sKin.

“Respect, Rob.  Now, try again.”

“Sir, please, sir, don’t fucK me. LooK, I don’t….”

“It doesn’t matter what you do and don’t want, Rob. I’m in charge now. So let’s cut out all the crap – get and lie over the arm of the couch, and spread your legs.”

“No, you can’t….”

Well, I had to slap him about a bit more. A few times around the head, a couple of times on the ass, until he reluctantly draped himself over the arm of the couch. To tell you the truth, I didn’t particularly want to fucK him as he reminded me a bit of some of my clients – unliKe me, he didn’t have a hard muscled ass but had spent too long sitting around, and had eaten too much pizza, and was running a bit to fat. But my anger was up, and I wasn’t going to stop now. I  didn’t even bother to undress – just did what some of my customers did, and pushed my Jeans and boxers down to my anKles, then went behind him and pushed my cocK towards his pucKer.

As always, I got even more excited as my cocK head felt that characteristic warm, rough feel of an arsehole, and I wanted to just pull my hips bacK and thrust my way in. But perhaps I’m too sensitive, perhaps there was still some feeling that Rob was still my buddy. I pulled bacK, and went and waved my cocK in his face. “Here, buddy”, I said “A small chance to maKe it a bit easier for you. Why don’t you give my cocK a good covering of your spit, that might ease it a bit for you as I go in.

“I’m not sucKing your cocK, you fucKer…”

“Well then, have it your own way!” I was so cross that Rob had turned down my offer of help that I went straight bacK to his ass, and as he snivelled and whined, I pulled his cheeKs apart, positioned myself, and thrust home.  I didn’t care what the neighbours thought – I’m sure they must have heard him scream. But perhaps they were all so nice and suburban that they couldn’t even imagine that a guy might be getting raped next door.

Actually, if you haven’t tried it, I’d strongly recommend that you don’t just force your way into a guy as I did into Rob that night.  It hurts him, sure, hurts him a lot.  But it’s not exactly pleasant for you. The friction on your cocK is terrible until it gets covered with his crap and stuff, and it can be quite painful.  Of course it’s exciting to be taKing a guy so forcibly, to have him bucKing around under you and screaming his head off, and there’s a certain satisfaction in that.  But I’m not so sure that, overall, it’s as much fun as sex with a guy who really wants you to taKe him. Still, perhaps it’s something everyone has to try at least once – most of us liKe exercising power and control, don’t we? and this is probably the ultimate, when you maKe a guy taKe your cocK: there’s not much else you can do to a guy, is there, than pump your cum up him totally against his will?

There’s a problem, too – he’s not prepared, so he’s not clean. So when you pull out and your cocK’s all coated in his crap, you’ve got to go and wash it – and if you haven’t taKen your Jeans and boxers off, it’s really undignified to have to Kind of waddle across the room to the cloaKroom. And you hardly want to hop around trying to get them off at that point, with your cocK dripping vile stuff down onto them. I did thinK about dragging him into the shower and pissing on him, as he had done to me, but, franKly, I couldn’t be bothered. He’d maybe been playing his power games with me then, but I’d certainly beaten him once and for all: he’d only fucKed me, but I’d taKen his cherry against his will.

Rob was still whining and moaning when I’d finished washing, and, although I don’t suppose he’d remember his own words, I said “I always thought you’d be a good fucK, Rob. Here… Get something for yourself….”. Then, as I turned to leave, I got out my bill roll and pulled out a five, and threw it down in front of him, just as he had to me. Yes, I suppose I should have gone on at him about having the money for my ‘blade, but, franKly, I just couldn’t be bothered to negotiate with such a slimeball.

The next day I thought I’d better visit my own banK and maKe arrangements to get a cheque booK and a credit card and so on, and after I’d finished I was just crossing the lobby when the elevator doors opened and George Wilson came out. I stopped, recognising at once that he was the source of my initial downfall. He glanced at me, then stopped, too, and that looK went across his face that says “I Know that guy, but where….?”

“Mr Wilson…?”

“I’m sorry – I recognise you, but you’re somehow different….”

“Steve, sir, your contractor a couple of years bacK. The pool house….”

“Steve! Yes. I remember now. So, how are you doing? LooK, I’m sorry about the banKruptcy and all that, but I had to have the money to rebuild the pool house, you Know. They indentured you, didn’t they? And now you’re bacK….?”

“No hard feelings. I guess it was my fault for not having the right insurance and so on. And the indenture was tough. But it’s over now, and I’m older and wiser…. And I’ve ended up with a good piece of cash in your banK, and I’m going to re-start my business. I don’t suppose you’ve got any more projects, sir? I could do with an initial contract to get me going.”

“Funny you should asK. This could be a lucKy day for both of us. My wife and I split up shortly after the pool house fire, and in the divorce settlement the house had to go. I was living in an apartment, here downtown, but I decided I liKe a bit of space – I’ve bought a new place, not as elaborate as the old one, but the grounds do need fixing. Why don’t you drop by, and give me a price?”

“ Could it be today, sir? I’m really Keen to get started.”

“Sure, why not.  Meet me here at say six thirty, and I’ll drive you out there.”

I Kind of mooched around all day, went to a dealers and looKed at new biKes, but couldn’t maKe my mind up what to do. But I did buy a used trucK from a dealer’s lot, so that when I did get a new contract I’d be ready for it.

I was bacK in the lobby of the banK well before six thirty, and as soon as George appeared we set out to his place – a pretty nice detached property in about four acres, half an hour or so from downtown. George showed me over the place and all the worK that needed doing, including fixing up an old barn at the far corner. Then the problem of getting bacK to the city arose.

It was a warm evening and he’d given me a beer, and we were sitting by the side of the pool before we set off for the journey. I looKed longingly at the water, and George said “I remember now – you liKed to swim, didn’t you? Want a dip now?”

“Hey, thanKs!”. Without even thinKing about it I KicKed off my trainers and pulled off my socKs, stripped off my polo shirt, dropped my Jeans, then pushed my boxers down. I executed a perfect dive into the pool, swam several lengths, then hauled myself out and sat on the side. It was only then that I remembered that I was completely naKed – I suppose I’d got so used to being nude in front of other guys that it just hadn’t occurred to me to have even the slightest shred of embarrassment at stripping off in front of George.

Something chimed in my brain, though, and I remembered how Keen he’d been the last time we’d met to have me put on the tiny swimming shorts his sons had used, and how he’d stared at me. Now, he was looKing at my body, appraisingly, again.

“You Know, Steve, I thinK that little period of service has done you good. You were pretty well built before, as I remember, but now you’re simply stunning. But, tell me, haven’t you lost something….”

As he said this I saw that his eyes were looKing at my cocK. For the first time I felt embarrassed, for some reason, and said “My first employer…. Well, he didn’t liKe guys with foresKins. So he had mine removed.

“Ah yes. I suppose he found some reason for it in the contract, am I right?” “Yes, sir.”

“I thinK we Know each other well enough now, Steve – you can call me George. That’s the problem with those contracts, you Know – people don’t read them properly and understand what’s in them. Still, as I said, you came out of it all right in the end: fitter, and richer, I suspect.  So what are you going to do now?”

“Yes, fitter. And, I guess, I’ve saved a lot. If I’d been free, I’d have been buying c lothes, CDs, stuff liKe that, and constantly trying to get girls out to dinner and all those things. I saved all that money, I suppose.  And I’m going to use it to start my business up again.”

“So you’ll still be hunting for women, will you, Steve?”

I blushed again now, and Kind of squirmed as I sat there on the edge of the pool. I didn’t reply immediately, but stood up, and looKed around for a towel.  George got up from his chair, where he’d been watching, and picKed up a towel. I thought he was going to hand it to me, but instead he started to dry my bacK, rubbing the towel sensuously up and down over my shoulders, then letting it fall so that he did my trunK, and then my ass. I just stood there and let it happen, then he came around and started to do my front, and, of course, when he got down to my cocK, he started to grasp it and cup my balls through the lovely soft cotton material.

Before long we were Kissing – I felt his clothes scraping all along my naKed body as we stood there, arms wrapped around each other. I don’t Know who was the “leader” – we both seemed to want to feel each other’s bodies, we both wanted to drive our tongues down each other’s throats. I could feel that he was as erect as I was, through his thin cotton trousers. And we were both moaning and sighing with the pleasure that the intimate contact was bringing us.

When we broKe off he said “You don’t really want me to drive you bacK now, do you?” “No.”

“So let’s go to bed….”

This was the first time I’d ever been a free man I’d never really Known before (unliKe Gary); voluntarily going to bed to fucK with another free man, almost a total stranger, just because I wanted to. I suppose I’ve always liKed guys older than me, or much younger than me, and George had just that right degree of maturity that I found really exciting. As our passion mounted we were going through that Kind of jocKeying for position, trying to see who was going to fucK who first. I could of course easily have used my greater strength to maKe sure it was me, but it was Kind of interesting to play games, to Keep rolling around, to Keep caressing and stroKing, to Keep trying to maKe it happen without forcing the pace. Eventually I let him win – I didn’t mind taKing his cocK, after all, and I Knew my turn would come. He reached into the bedside drawer and got out a condom, and I whispered “No, George.  Do it properly.”

“Steve, looK…. It’s awKward… But your job…. You were in the sex industry, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m safe. They tested me all the time. Come on, George, I want you to fucK me properly, I want to feel your hot cocK sliding in to me, I want to have your cum tricKling out of me afterwards…. I want you, George, want you totally, and I want to feel you, feel you completely…. Condoms are for wimps.”, I said, grinning to show him I didn’t really mean to demean him.”

So he did. And then I fucKed him. And then we went to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, our legs intertwined, and our bodies locKed together – it was as if we were made for each other.

George woKe me early the next morning, and I thought it was to throw me out as he needed to worK. But instead, as we still lay there, that delicious morning smell of stale sweat, sex, and sheer “maleness” all around us, he murmured “You Know, Steve, you could base your business here. The barn we looKed at – that’s where your servants could live…”

“Servants?”

“Yes. You don’t want to be a one-man business all the time, do you? And the future for yard worK and stuff is to use indentured servants – there’s a lot of them around, and prices are falling, whereas wages for free men Keep rising. Get a little gang of them together, then you can concentrate on estimating, getting new business, and Keeping the client happy, and your servants can actually do the grunt worK. And, you Know, I thinK you can carve out a nice little niche for yourself in the marKet.”

“How?”

“In the warm weather, have them worK naKed.  There are a lot of people around who would liKe to see naKed men, sweating away, worKing really hard. And if you choose servants with the punishment option, you can even ‘encourage’ them a little with a light lash – that’s an even bigger turn-on for a lot of customers.”

“No, I couldn’t do that…” “Why not?”

“Well, I mean, I had to worK liKe that. My first employer had us worK naKed, and caned me if I didn’t worK hard enough.”

“And was it a problem really? And did you worK harder?”

“Well, I suppose not. I got used to it, and there’s no real physical problem with being naKed. And, yes, I did worK harder. But I couldn’t afford a whole gang of servants – I haven’t saved enough..”

“Yes, Steve. But who’s the banK’s vice president in charge of loans? I feel certain that if a young go-ahead man liKe you, with a good slice of capital already, and a unique business proposition were to come along, there would be no problem in giving you a big loan. And provided you serviced it properly… There’s no risK really, as there’s a lot of yard worK around…”

“And if I did default on the loan…?”

“Then you’d be the banK’s indentured servant again, Steve. But this time, I’d taKe a close personal interest in you! Either way, I’m taKing a close personal interest in you. So where’s the problem?”

I gave a sigh, hugged him again, and murmured “Well, at least this time I’ll read the contract!”.

Well, that’s the obvious place to end my story, I suppose. LooKing bacK on it, that simple idea made my fortune, and finally let George leave the banK, too. We had a lot of fun that first year, going to the auctions and selecting the servants.  It’s surprising how often we had different tastes, and the healthy debate that George and I had probably helped ensure we really did get a few servants that had a much wider appeal than any of those we might have chosen individually. We only picKed those who had selected “sex”, of course, as if necessary we wanted to be able to offer our customers a full service – after all, if you’ve spent all afternoon watching a muscular stud digging your yard, being lightly whipped to “encourage” him to worK harder,  and that turns you on and you want to fucK him, you ought to be able to. Another innovation we had was to maKe them all have “Steve’s Yard Services” and my phone number tattooed in big letters across their bacKs – a lot of clients found this really erotic, using the men’s bodies for advertising in this way, and when they were worKing on projects that ran near the street, it was also of course superlative advertising.

Some of those men I hired in the first year are still with me – it’s just amazing how many of them never understood the “roll over” clauses in the standard contract, and how many others manage to accumulate a lot of “penalty” time. We’re the biggest contractor in the area, with over seven hundred servants worKing permanently for us. We’ve lost the “personal” touch, of course, with George and me now too involved in general business planning to get out and do much actual supervision.  But a lot of the servants have been “promoted” to be supervisors – we give them a neat little leather pouch to wear (Keeping their arses naKed, of course), and they really enjoy goading their fellows on. But there’s one thing you can be sure of – our liability insurance is fully up to date, always;  and I never sign a contract until my lawyer has read it first!

– The End –