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You probably think I had it all. I was still young. I still had a good body, in spite of beginning to put on some weight because of all the formal dinners and stuff I had to go to and having too little time for exercise. And of course I was rich and powerful – very rich and very powerful. In my business life I could make decisions that affected millions, and in private I had a large army of slaves who were under my absolute control.
But, to tell you the truth, all of this was becoming boring. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t had to work for most of it – I don’t know: we often can’t pinpoint the factors that are giving us vague feelings of unhappiness and dissatisfaction with life generally, can we?
Probably the only things that were consistently enjoyable in my life were the times I spent with Tony, and Miles – both now important executives at the bank. It was becoming harder and harder to find time for all three of us to get together, though, and it took a great deal of juggling of diaries by our respective secretaries to make sure that we were all in the same bed occasionally for an evening’s fun! I’d just finished fucking Tony, and was lying there feeling our hearts race as we cooled down, and stroking Miles’ thighs as he lay alongside us having been sucked off by Tony as my dick had been reaming Tony’s ass, when into that companionable silence Miles dropped a bombshell “I’d like you two guys to be my groomsmen when I get married in two months time”, he said quietly and calmly.
Tony and I both sat bold upright, we were so surprised. “Married? To who?”, Tony asked, as I demanded “Married? You don’t even like women! You’ve never mentioned a girlfriend , even….”
Miles looked at us, and said airily, in that vaguely upper-class way he has “Oh, well, no, I haven’t mentioned a girl friend. Well, I hardly know her, really. And you’re right, I don’t particularly like women – well, not for sex, at least. But you know how it is….”
“No we don’t!”, Tony and I said almost simultaneously.
“I suppose it’s different for you, but in our place in society, men get married. My parents want a grandson, to carry on the family name. My father’s getting ready to pay the fees at school and Harvard…. “
“But don’t they know you like men?”
“Yes, of course. But what’s that got to do with the price of fish?”. Miles smiled, as he used one of these peculiar colloquialisms that he was prone to. “I don’t have to like her, particularly – we’re only going to be married, after all. And once I’ve fathered ‘the heir and the spare’, so to speak, we can live our separate lives. And you’ll know, Steve, better than most, that even guys who don’t like women can, well… can… well… impregnate them. That’s all I’ve got to do, really – a nice big ceremony so that all the family and friends can come, some rather clinical sex, to get her pregnant, and then we’ll have a nice big apartment so we don’t have to see each other much and will generally weekend at different places…. ” I lay back and listened almost incredulously. This all sounded wrong. But Miles was going on “So I’d like you two, as my absolutely best friends, and my closest fuck buddies, to be in Newport and be my groomsmen at the ceremony, and the reception…. My parents’ cottage is just made for a big party, you know, especially when we have all the marquees across the lawns…”
“Miles, you can’t be serious about doing this….”, Tony joined in, in his own tone of mild disapproval.
“And give me one or two good reasons why not? I can list all the advantages: our place in society is assured, my parents happiness guaranteed when they have a grandson, the continuance of the family name, and, I suppose, the fact that I quite look forward to having sons to bring up…. It will be fun showing them life, taking them on vacations, all that sort of stuff. And then introducing them to sex… Yes, a man needs sons.”
“But what about this woman, this woman you’re just going to use to breed from?”, I spluttered.
“Oh, her? Well, she’s from the same class in society as us, and her parents have presumably pointed out the advantages of marrying me: you two may not realise it, but I’m a bit of a catch, you know! I’ve got a very good job, lots of investments, I went to the best schools, I’ve got status…. And I’ll inherit the cottage and stuff, too, of course…. Who wouldn’t want to marry me?”
Well, we argued and discussed it, but the more Tony and I thought the whole idea sounded mad, the more Miles became adamant that it was the correct thing to do. “After all”, he said finally, “Look at my parents – it worked for them, perfectly. And you, Steve, you’re always going on about what a great time you had with your father before that unfortunate enslavement: would you want to deny me the pleasure of having that kind of relationship with sons, too? And I’d advise you two to think on: time’s passing you by, you know – you ought to be planning to have sons, too. Although I suppose, Steve, that you already have a fair number….”
We laughed, but I could see Tony was thinking, as was I, about what we might be missing. Or was there something else in his expression? A slightly impish grin on his face? Still, we finally gave up, and Tony and I rather ganged up on poor Miles: we said that if he was setting himself up as a stud, he’d better save his cum and so he wasn’t allowed to fuck; and then we fucked him, hard, both of us, all the time laughing and telling him that he needed lessons from us in how to do it, if he was going to be a good teacher and pas it on to his sons in the future! All in all, it was one of those really memorable evenings when buddies really bond, and we had a truly great time.
I won’t bore you with the wedding – it was the society event of the year when “Handsome banker wed famous clothes designer after a surprise, whirlwind courtship….” It was all over all the papers, and on TV, and the magazines had articles about their ceremony, the honeymoon, their new apartment, and stuff, for months and months. I must say I looked suavely handsome in most of the pictures as Tony and I “supported” Miles at the ceremony.
All this publicity made it harder for us to get together, and so it wasn’t for another three or four months before we were all lying together again, and Tony, ever one to want to make the running, took his mouth off Miles’ dick and said “So, lover boy, how’s your sex life going with the wife?”
“Oh Tony, you can’t ask a man things like that…”
Tony plunged his head down and sucked Miles’ balls into his mouth, causing Miles to throw back his head and moan in ecstasy, then Tony stopped and asked again “Does she give it as good as I do, Miles? Come on… Steve and I want to know… You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about: we’re all friends here. And maybe Steve could give you a few tips about how to stud…. Maybe you could even tell me what it’s like – is it as good as a nice firm ass?”
“You guys are disgusting!”. Miles was almost laughing. “I’m not going to give you sex lessons, Tony – go and hire a woman for the night, or buy a nigga bitch, if you want to know how the heterosexuals do it! Let’s just leave it that married life is all I thought it would be – we’re in our new apartment, she’s decorating it and buying new slaves, and life is pretty easy, actually. All the stuff I used to have to do for myself gets done by her – supervising the slaves, all those tedious things like paying the bills…. It all runs like clockwork. And yes, we have fucked – but we timed it all right, and she’s in the club, and so I’ve done my duty until it’s time for the next one.”
We were going to ask more, but just then we heard the outer door of Tony’s apartment open, and then bang shut, and the TV went on in the next room.
Miles tweaked Tony’s nip, and said “So, what’s this? A secret lover? Someone you haven’t told us about? Or is business so bad and your bonus so down that you’ve had to take a roomie? Come on, tell us, or it will be painful for you… I have ways of making you talk, Tony…”
“Oh no, just forget it…”
Miles squeezed his nip, hard, and Tony squirmed around. “Hold him Steve”, Miles said laughingly. Don’t let him escape! We want all the details. Come on, Tony, I’m a lawyer, you know I know how to get the truth out of people…”
We struggled a bit, having huge fun, tweaking Tony’s nips, squeezing his balls, running a thumb nail over his piss slit, until we were almost helpless with laughter. And then the door opened, and this kid walked in!
Both Miles and I stopped still in amazement, and Tony looked vaguely embarrassed as he almost unconsciously pulled the bed cover up a little, as if to try to hide our nakedness from the kid. I stared at him, and he reminded me a bit of myself at that age – he must have been a late sixteen, right on the cusp of real manhood. He was tall, slim, somehow colt-like, with a shock of unruly black hair. He was dressed in the “uniform” of youth, with low-slung jeans looking as if they’d fall of his snake-thin hips at any moment revealing the waistband of his designer underwear, and a short sleeved loose T on top of a baggy long sleeved white one.
We all looked at each other. Then Tony said “Steve, Miles, this it Billy…”
The kid just continued to stare at us. I knew something must be going on as he hadn’t knocked before entering the room, and he didn’t seem to be surprised at seeing Tony’s naked body. But what?
“So is Billy your new slave?”, I finally asked.
The kid had spirit, I’ll say that. Gesturing at my tattoo and brand, as I was lying sprawled on my side, he snapped “Watch who you’re calling a slave! You look more like a slave to me, and if you belong to the other dude, I want you beaten….”
“No”, Tony cut in. “Billy’s not a slave. He’s as free as any of us here.”
“But who…?”, Miles began.
“Billy, stop standing there like that, staring. It’s rude!”, Tony said. “Either go and watch TV, or else strip off an come and join us!”
Miles and I remained almost open mouthed in astonishment as without hesitating the kid pulled in turn each of the Ts off to reveal a slim, pale body, then hopped around from foot to foot as he pulled off his sneakers and socks, and slid his jeans down. He stood there in those dark grey boxers some men find sexy, stroking the front, as if “settling” his dick and balls in them, then turned around to pick up his clothes and take them over to drop them over onto a chair. We all looked at his long back with the backbone prominent in it, and the high, rounded butt that was straining the fabric of the boxers. He had a lot of dark hair on his legs – like Tony – and they were long, as he was tall for his age.
He turned around, and then, almost as if he was conscious of the excitement he was causing, reached inside his boxers to play with his dick for a moment. AS he approached the bed, Tony whispered “No, Billy – I’ve told you that it’s not good for you to keep tight underwear on in bed, as it causes your balls to overheat! You know that – I’ve told you often enough before.”
The kid shrugged, hesitated a moment, then put his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers before pushing them to the floor and stepping out of them. The boy came to the bed, and without stopping slipped down beside Tony, who pushed his own body across, forcing Miles and me and him closer together, to make room.
Like a lot of tall guys with slender bodies as youths – me included – his dick was long, too. And he was uncut. And we’d seen enough of him to know that he wasn’t tattooed or branded, and rather than a slave collar, he wore a string of cheap-looking beads on a leather thong around his neck. I felt my dick twitching in excitement, and Miles’ did too – I could feel it, as he was pressed against me. Tony pulled the kid close to him, his strong, hairy arms standing out starkly from the kid’s white skin, and his hand began to stroke the kid’s long, lean flank sensuously as they lay there. The kid kind of snuggled up close to Tony, lying his head on Tony’s hairy chest, and curled his arm around Tony’s ribs.
“Where did he come from, Tony?”. Miles was the first of us to speak. “And how old is he?”
Tony sounded a bit defensive. “Look, he’s over sixteen, right? So he can make up his own mind…. And he comes from Iowa.”
“Oh, I’m not going to get any peace until I tell you guys the whole story, am I?” Tony settled the kid, who seemed to be perfectly relaxed now that Tony was almost cradling him close, and began “Billy’s dad was a small farmer, who died when he was twelve. His mom remarried – a labourer on the farm – and the guy took over. He didn’t like Billy, and they rowed constantly. Billy begged and pleaded with his mom to get rid of the stepfather, who used to drink heavily, and who had begun to beat up Billy, but she wouldn’t. So as soon as he was old enough he determined to leave, and used his meagre savings to but a bus ticket to New York – like a lot of kids, he thought it would be easier to get a job here than in Hicksville, Iowa!”
“And that’s it?”, I asked, as Tony had stopped.
“Well, no, of course not. Needless to say, he couldn’t find any work – I mean, what is there for a 16 year old without any qualifications? All the burger hashing and stuff is done by slaves now. So after only three days he was hungry, had nowhere to stay, and began to have to walk the streets…”
“Oh, so he sold himself, did he? One of those gay boys you see around…. Honestly, Tony, I’m surprised at you!” – Miles actually managed to sound shocked, but I think he was teasing Tony really.
“NO! It wasn’t like that! He didn’t want to sell himself for sex. He wasn’t going to turn into a gay bum-boy! But what could the kid do? You know how it is – the police are always searching the bus terminal and the streets at night looking for ‘vagrants’ – if he’d gone to sleep and they found him, he’d not have been able to show them an address, or any money…. So he’d have been fined. Then, seven days later, when the fine wasn’t paid, he’d have been hauled up before the courts as a vagrant, who was destitute…. And then, slavery, of course.”
I could see the kid looking at Tony as he said this, and he was obviously in agreement.
“Anyway, to cut a long story short”, Tony went on, “On the third day, when he was totally exhausted, he started to beg to try to get a few dollars…. Very risky in this city now, as the cops come down really hard on that sort of thing. But fortunately I happened to be one of the guys he stopped…. It was late, it was raining and I was on my way home from the Club when he stopped me, and the poor kid looked so dammed pathetic, all bedraggled and shivering. So I brought him home and said he could stay the night.”
Tony gave a long, slow smile and repositioned his arms and hands almost proprietorially around the kid’s slender body before continuing “Of course once I saw him stripped, as I insisted he took a hot shower before I fed him, I was excited. So I got into the shower with him, and although it was a bit of a shock for him when I opened the door and he saw my dick sticking straight out…. he soon realised how much fn it can be with two guys together in there. And after he’d eaten, I thought he looked scared and lost, and thought it would be better for him to know there was someone to look out for him, so I let him share my bed that night.”
“And you thought he needed to know what a big thick dick feels like up his ass, too!”, Miles cut in, laughing now.
“NO, Miles. I didn’t want to take advantage of him. I let him sleep that night, then told him he could stay in the apartment the next day when I went to work… I couldn’t leave him alone, of course, as I couldn’t trust him fully then , so I cuffed him to the bed – only one wrist, mind, so he could use the TV remote and stuff. And I didn’t fuck him until the second night!”
“He’s been here just over two weeks now, and, as you can see, he’s learned to trust me. And I guess I trust him – he goes out to school, as I want him to have a good education, and I let him go around to other kids’ apartments to study afterwards…. As long as he’s home by nine, as he’s still growing, and he needs his sleep.”
As Tony had been speaking, the kid’s left hand had slowly moved down Tony’s body to begin fondling his dick, and Tony was now rock hard as the kid’s fingers carried on teasing and stroking him.
“So he’s going to be your slave…? Or what?” Miles asked.
“Well, Miles, I think he’s going to be my heir! Of course he’s not going to be a slave: that’s too easy – all I’d have to do is order him to come and get fucked. No, I want a free spirit, someone who wants me to fuck them, not who does it because he’s ordered to; and I like the idea of seeing Billy mature fully, of giving him a proper education, of going out to watch him on the college football team – I’m sure he’ll be a great athlete once he’s put a bit of meat on his bones as he gets older. I look forward to seeing him get a job… I might even take him on as a trader at the bank. I’ve told Billy he’s like a son to me, and I’m going to be like his dad….”
“Oh, come off it, Tony… You can’t just take a kid in off the street and start playing happy families!”, Miles broke in.
“Hey, Miles, it’s no stranger than you deciding to marry some bitch, getting her knocked up, and then ignoring her in favour of your buddies, just so you can have a son… And taking a sixteen year old, I cut out a whole lot of waiting, and risk… As you can see, he’s got a nice body…”
“Tony, it’s not the same….”
They sounded as if they might have a serious argument, but Billy, having got Tony’s erection to the point where, to me, it actually looked as if it might be almost painful it was so hard, slid his body over Tony’s, then leaned backwards, half squatting, and lowered himself onto Tony’s dick!
As Miles and I watched in fascination, he began to rock himself up and down, the muscles in his long legs making agreeable flexing motions as he did so. Tony groaned with pleasure, and reached up and began to tease the kid’s nips, which made him throw his head back, his long neck and prominent Adam’s apple looking totally sensual and erotic.
I remembered how Mr Hawthorne had made me ride his dick as a slave, and then had expected me to continue even when I was a free man, and now here was Tony, getting the same treatment from another free man. It was too much – I had to stop watching, and flip Miles over on to his back so I could start to fuck him to relieve the tension in me.
Tony and I shot almost simultaneously, then Tony pushed the kid off him, but this time so that he lay on the other side of Tony, next to me. I felt his soft skin, damp with sweat, as was mine, and wondered what he was thinking: When I’d first had proper sex it was with dad, and I’d felt safe and secure, knowing he’d loved me. I almost felt sorry for Billy, whose dad had died, whose step-dad had beaten him up, and who was now having to have sex with Miles and me watching him – it’s not easy, even when you’re used to it, to have to perform in front of other guys, is it? The kid obviously had a lot of pluck to leave home, and now to be able to behave so normally with four guys who were at least twice his age.
In the elevator going down, when we left, Miles turned to me and said “Jesus, Steve, Tony’s taking on something there…. A young guy like that, it’s almost certainly going to end badly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, think about it: a kid with a body like that, on the loose in this town! He’ll take Tony for money, clothes, stuff like that, then will probably screw around with every guy he meets…”
“Surely Tony knows that.”
“Yes, Steve, but he probably thinks Billy loves him, or something: you can see that Tony’s besotted with him. But then, who wouldn’t like a nice piece of ass like that in his bed every night?”
We arrived at the lobby then, and so we didn’t pursue the conversation, but as I was driven home in the limo I began to wonder what was going on here: Miles had contracted this bizarre marriage and was screwing a woman, even though he probably detested it, as he wanted a son. And Tony was risking money and unhappiness, and probably his reputation, too, if things went badly wrong – a man who couldn’t control a young lover, after all, probably couldn’t control a big division of the bank, they’d say. And that looked as if it was because he wanted a young guy he could groom and train: he’d got himself a ready-made “son”. It made me think of dad and me – where had it really gone wrong? Why weren’t we as close as we used to be? I began to feel vaguely guilty about the way I was treating him – sure, I’d made his job a whole lot easier by having three slaves work on the pleasure grounds now, and I’d made sure he could go on studding, as he liked fucking women so much. But was that enough? Thinking about what Miles and Tony were prepared to do for sons, it seemed to me that I was undervaluing the relationship between dad and me. By the time I’d got back to the apartment I’d decided that the following weekend I’d go down to Manderleigh and make things better between us.
The decision that was easy to make on a cold evening in Manhattan looked less and less good as the executive jet sped me southwards that Friday, and in the limo to Manderleigh I almost began to regret it. I mean, it’s one thing to say that you’re going to have a full and frank talk with your dad, and quite another to actually do it, isn’t it? I mean, where do you start? What should I say when Stryker brought him in? And how far should I go in spelling out how things had changed – one thing was certain: I’d better not tell him he’d been vasectomised, as that would certainly piss him off, and may even destroy his feelings of self worth, of being a “man”.
I chickened out at first, and had dinner with Stryker after I’d arrived, and sat there listening to his reports on progress and so on. I knew I was postponing the inevitable, but perhaps I was clutching at straws, hoping that some catastrophe would intervene and “make” me postpone the interview. Finally, after relatively good news about crop shipments and slave purchases, I leaned forward to Stryker and said as casually as I could “And what about Joe, and Chas, and the new studding arrangements, and so on….?”
“Oh it’s all fine, sir. As soon as it became known that there was a new stud, a whole lot of the neighbours came around with their bitches. But there’s a bit of a potential problem – some of them had been put with Joe before, and then with you, and they now wanted the bitch covered by Chas so that the bitch’s third pup would be by a different father again, and they weren’t very pleased when I told them about your ‘Joe first’ policy. We fixed it, however – Joe still studs them first, as he’s ‘top dog’, but where he’s already bred with that bitch I slide a condom over his dick before putting him to her. He gets the fun of studding – well, most of it, I suppose, as the condom takes some of the pleasure away for him – but the first real semen is pumped in by Chas when he covers the bitch next. The guests get to see two studs in action, and everyone’s happy…. Well, at least, sir, that is, if you’re happy with it, sir….”
I could see Stryker’s point, and thought that seeing him fitting a condom over dad’s dick as part of the preparations must be father funny, actually. “So what happens to Joe’s cum….?”
“Oh, it depends on what the guests want. Some of them like the idea of a ‘fall back’ in case Chas fails, so I have to stroke Joe into erection again and empty the condom onto his dick, then put him back into the bitch! But mostly they just don’t care, so I just dump it in the trash.”
“Very well, Stryker – you’re on the spot here, and you know best, I suppose. But how is Joe otherwise?”
“I’d say he’s really enjoying it, sir. Although there’s more grounds to look after now, with three of them at it, life’s a bit easier. And of course Joe is the undisputed boss…. The Mexican has always accepted him as the boss as he was so young when he started, and even though he’s now big and tough himself, he defers to Joe in everything from habit. When Chas first started he tried to order Joe around, and Joe had to exert his authority – it took rather a lot of bloody noses and painful bruises before Chas recognised that Joe is tougher and stronger than he is! So now Joe bosses them both around, he spreads the work between them as he chooses – although, to be fair, he never shirks his own portion of it… And that’s only during the day. At night, of course, he fucks whichever one he wants, and most nights he takes both of them. I’d say he’s having a pretty good time, all in all.”
It sounded like dad, I must say. He always wanted to run things. And he really did like fucking! “But how is he as a slave, Stryker? Surely, letting him run things like that….”
“Oh no problem, sir. He’s a good enough slave to recognise that he only has very limited power in this one tiny corner of his life, and that all other times he’s a true slave, as we’ve talked about before, sir. In fact he’s ‘training’ Chas, just as he trained the Mexican: if there’s the slightest sign of disrespect from Chas, or if he starts to talk when they’re working, or anything like that, it’s Joe who slaps him down and I have to use the tawse a lot less. I think he’s proud of being a good slave, sir, and he wants the slaves who are with him to be ‘good’, too.”
I took Stryker into the study for coffee and brandy – not that I drank much of it myself, as, frankly, I was feeling nervous. But as the hour grew later, I knew I had to act then, or spend a sleepless night worrying about how I would do it tomorrow. And, I suppose, I’d learned by now that postponing difficult interviews, or difficult decisions, doesn’t make them any easier. So I told Stryker to have dad brought over from the mower shed, and settled down on the couch to wait.
To be continued …
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