Enticed Pt. 17.1 - A New Drug

This is the first half of the seventeenth part of my adventures in the early 90s with a gay man about 15 years older than me who saw me as a near-reincarnation of his first boyfriend. Check my post history for earlier installments of the story of an older man’s toy.

“That thing you did Saturday where you made me tie you to the chair and everything?” Blaise said over lunch the next Monday. “That’s really stuck with me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” I said. “I knew you had to have some opinion about it once you had time to think about it, good or bad.”

“I really, really liked it,” he said, his eyes wide. “That was amazing! I mean, I loved how you just told me what to do. But, the feeling of control that it gave me was - I’m speechless. There aren’t words to describe it.”

“I had an idea you wanted to do something like that,” I said. “You’ve made little comments here and there about the leather show and wanting to take it off-stage.

“And, I was really horny and also needed to be stretched for that night’s show. The planets aligned perfectly.”

Once he admitted he liked the feeling of dominating me, being in control, I reminded him - again - that I have tried to give him the opportunity before.

“Y’know, I’m practically your sex slave already,” I said. “I mean, how many times have I all but begged you to treat me like your slave? I’ve had to force you to tell me what you wanted me to do or to watch me do. I mean, that was the whole point of Saturdays originally.”

“I know,” Blaise said. “I guess, I’ve settled into the idea of having you in my life and accepted the fact that you want to be here and I’m not asking you to do something you don’t want to do or that really turns you off.”

“I’ve been begging to be your slave for more than a year now,” I said. “It should be pretty obvious I want to be here - and I want to please you. I want to do whatever it takes to make you happy.

“Do you know anybody who does domination and submission?” I asked. “I mean, I’d like to learn more about what other people do or how it’s supposed to work.”

“I’m not sure there are rules, necessarily.”

“Well, there’s got to be some kind of accepted practices or something,” I said. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a book.”

We agreed to make an excursion to Gate City Saturday to check bookstores, both mainstream and otherwise, to look for information on the bd half of bdsm. Neither of us were too keen on sado-masochism.

While there were a couple bdsm books at the mall bookstores, they were mall bookstore books and hardly treasure troves of the kind of information we wanted or needed. The seedier adult stores were little better. They’re bdsm books were much more graphic, but still weren’t really how-to’s.

I took a chance and asked the pretty, blue-haired lesbian working the register at the “nice” adult bookstore if she had any suggestions. She showed us the collars and cuffs and explained a little about the imagery of a proper submissive’s collar.

She also mentioned that some people used the Gor fantasy novels as a starting point for Dominant/slave relationships. That triggered a detailed memory for me. I’d read several of the Gor books as a teenager.

The Gor series had a lot to say about sexual slavery, almost exclusively of the female variety. But, I vaguely remembered lists of detailed rules for the behavior of slaves and their interaction with their masters. I told Blaise I would find those books and skim through them for any ideas. But the rules I remembered were pretty straightforward and might be fun for both of us.

Blaise splurged and bought a fairly expensive black leather collar for me. He said he wanted to do this right. He didn’t want us using some glorified dog collar. That was OK for my shows, but not for his house. I agreed. And, the lesbian clerk raised an eyebrow.

For some reason, I proceeded to explain our relationship and even my shows to her. We were the only people in the store and she seemed enthralled by the whole situation. Blaise told her a few of my props came from her store. She actually offered to post a flyer advertising my performances. I told her I’d think about it. Since they weren’t entirely legal, I wasn’t sure about making them public.

We spent almost an hour in her store and finally left with the collar and a set of matching cuffs. I spent a minute checking out a snap-on leather cock ring. She noticed my interest and told me to take it.

“Give it a try,” she said. “It’s supposed to do great things for you.

“Even I wouldn’t mind seeing you wear one.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling myself blush. “I don’t mind modeling for anybody. But, uh, here’s the address where I do my shows.”

I wrote the dates of the next couple shows on the back of the card Blaise and I had developed as a hand-out.

“It’s just a bunch of fags in the country,” I said. “But it’s a night for anybody.”

When we checked out she actually gave us her employee discount. I ended up with the collar and cuffs for 25-percent off, and the cock ring was free.

She also talked me into some short chrome chains with spring hooks on each end.

“Who knows? You might want to use the cuffs for more than just dress-up,” she said.

“Actually,” I admitted sheepishly, “we’ll definitely need these.”

After work that Monday I went straight to Blaise’s and took a shower. I was still in the bathroom when he got home and he took my place just as I stepped out.

When he joined me in the living room I was waiting in his favorite pair of lounge pants, the pink ones. His eyebrow shot up when he saw that I was wearing my new collar. I wasn’t sure about the cuffs yet. But, I had them on the coffee table.

When he sat on the couch I dropped to my knees on the floor at his feet.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Your slave awaits his master’s instructions,” I said. My eyes were down-turned as I spoke.

“This is interesting,” Master said. “Are you going to explain this to me?”

“If you wish, Master,” I said. “Or, Master might enjoy learning the rules of my slavery as we go along.”

“Well, let’s start with why you’re on your knees.”

“Your slave is developing a slave’s creed, which requires that a slave live in a state of submission, on his knees at his master’s feet awaiting his command,” I explained. “A slave must never be on the same level as his master when in the same room. If Master is sitting, his slave must kneel on the floor. Also, a slave must never look his master in the eyes.

“Just so, your slave awaits your pleasure in his place, Master.”

“I see you’ve done some research,” Master said.

“Yes, Master,” I answered. “A detailed Slave’s Creed is in process. Your slave will share it with you as soon as possible.

“For the time being, what is my master’s pleasure?”

“Um, get me a drink?” Master said uncertainly.

“Yes, Master.” I rose and went to the kitchen.

When I returned I knelt in the same spot and lifted the glass of chilled whiskey up to Master while looking down at the floor.

“Damn,” he said. “This is kind of cool, A. But, I’m not sure - .”

“My servitude is voluntary, Master,” I said, “and an act of love.”

I heard him catch his breath just then.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Master should always refer to his slave simply as ‘Slave,’” I said. “A slave’s personal identity is one of the sacrifices made when entering into the Master/slave relationship.

“Your slave has willingly given up his identity and freedom in the service and love of his master.”

It took a minute for him to respond. When he did, I could hear emotion in his voice.

“Your master is grateful,” he said. He placed a hand on my down-turned head.

After he finished his drink, Master seemed to be more willing to play along.

“Slave,” he said.

“Yes, Master.”

“Give me a blowjob.”

I silently pulled his pajama pants down and began a detailed inspection of his cock and balls with my mouth, licking and rubbing him to a full erection in less than 60 seconds. He was aroused much more quickly by his new power over me.

I had his cock in my throat as soon as it was hard enough to reach past my larynx. I swallowed and licked and hungrily sucked him until he pulsed and throbbed against my lips and tongue.

I bobbed my head and shoulders between his thighs until he came like a teenager getting his first blowjob.

“Oh, my God!” he nearly screamed. “That was so intense!”

After a while, he directed me to join him on the couch. I started to object, but he said he wanted me to lay my head on his lap.

That was an unusual request. But, I chose to face his cock and slowly caressed it to another erection and had precum on my cheek within an hour. I sucked and milked another thin orgasm from my master a few minutes later.

“You’re the best slave ever,” he breathed. “I didn’t even have to ask you to do that.”

“A slave must learn and anticipate his master’s desires in order to provide for Master’s pleasure quickly and efficiently,” I said.

Over lunch the next day, I tried to explain the “rules” I’d developed so far.

“First, of course, when I’m wearing the collar, I’m yours,” I said over pizza.

Blaise chose the corner booth as far from the door of our favorite restaurant as possible for as much privacy as we could get. It was a slow day so we practically had the place to ourselves.

“I have to do anything and everything you say right away,” I continued. “I have to respond quickly and eagerly. I have to accept your commands without question or bitching or groaning. You’re the master. I’m the slave.”

“And, that brings up another point. When I’m wearing the collar my entire identity is the collar,” I said. “I am a slave and you should refer to me only as Slave. I have no other name but Slave.

“And, as your slave, I have no right to use your name for any reason. I will refer to you only as Master.”

“OK,” Blaise said. “I’ve already seen that. That’s doable.”

“You’ve also seen that I must always be in submission to you on my knees at your feet,” I continued. “I can’t be on your level without your permission. I can’t even sleep in the same bed unless you order me to. Otherwise, I have to remain on my knees by the bed until you turn off the light and lay down. Then I can sleep on the floor by your bed.

“I have to be available to you for your use in any way at any time.”

“I don’t think I’ll make you sleep on the floor. But, I can get behind the rest of it,” my friend said. “We have that now. You’re always ready for anything I want.”

“Well, with the collar on, I’m thinking I have to make sure lube and wash cloths are always ready, too,” I said.

“That’s something else,” I went on. “I can’t make you wait. If you want something or want me to do something, it has to be right now. A slave never makes his master wait.

“So, I can’t make you wait for a drink or for me to get lube or even to shower or do an enema. I have to be ready for anything all the time.”

“Still, you almost are already. This isn’t going to be all that different,” Blaise said. “Until now, I haven’t noticed just how much you’ve spoiled me.”

“Now that I think about it, that could also mean that I should be naked all the time - except for the collar, of course,” I said. “But, that’s up to you. Everything’s up to you. As my master, you can change or add to the rules at any time for any reason.”

Eventually, we ran out of time and decided to finish going over my rules after work.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?” I asked Blaise in his kitchen later. “Do you want to finish up with the rules? Or, do you want me to act them out and explain as we go?”

“As much as I like having you on your knees, let’s just go over the rules,” he said. “I want to understand what’s going on.”

“Well, I’ll probably be on my knees at some point tonight anyway,” I said with a wink.

I spent most of the evening explaining the various rules for slavery I had gleaned from the Gor books and had reworked for our situation. While I did, though, I was on my knees caressing and kneading his cock to erection.

We weren’t going to have a full-time Dominant/slave relationship as portrayed in the books, I told him as I stroked his dick. And, I wasn’t going to get a tattoo - or was I?

I told Blaise that only he could take the collar off my neck to release me. Either one of us could put it on. I could willingly enter his service by putting it on at any time.

But, I could only remove it when he ordered me to or when one of his commands required it’s removal, like taking a shower.

However, if I was ordered or expected to put it back on after the shower, I would be under its influence in the interim. So, if Blaise sent me to the shower, I would take it off, but would still be his slave during the time I wasn’t wearing it. If he decided to join me in the shower, I still was his to command.

While wearing the collar, to reinforce a slave’s place and lack of personhood, a slave had to avert his gaze and look at the floor at all times when practical. I couldn’t even look my master in the eyes. That would suggest equality.

I also couldn’t speak until spoken to. I could acknowledge commands with something like, “Yes, Master.” But, if I had to ask a question or tell my master something, I had to ask permission to speak first.

And, of course, since this was slavery, there had to be some kind of discipline or punishment involved for breaking the rules. A slave had to honestly acknowledge rule-breaking and accept any punishment willingly. And, while neither of us were interested in sado-masochism in any form, there might need to be some form of symbolic punishment as part of the ritual/role-play. That was something we’d need to think about and agree on mutually.

“Do you have these written down somewhere?” Blaise asked. “How are you remembering all this? Or, expecting me to?”

“It really isn’t that complicated once you get into it,” I said. “But, yes, I’m going to write it all out.

“I think it will be easier in practice once we’re actually doing it.”