‘— Aren’t you a little old to switch teams?’ Brent asked me provocatively.

‘— Stop it. You know I am not buying him to fuck him.’ I said, smiling. ‘Well, at least not that often.’

Gwen was looking at a printout with Ernest’s profile.

‘— I just can’t believe you are going to ruin a brand new slave like that! Will you at least let me have a go before you do it?’

‘— You know I wouldn’t deny you anything, my dear. But you’ll have to hurry, otherwise all he’ll have to offer you is his tongue.’

‘— Unlucky bastard!’ Brent laughed. ‘He could have spent the rest of his life between Gwen’s legs, but instead he will be polishing your knob daily while longing for his missing junk.’

I moaned theatrically and they laughed.

‘— I’ll tell this to Rex tonight, so he can know how lucky he is’, said Gwen.

‘— Who came with this idea of giving slaves dog’s names?’ I asked.

‘— Oh, it was a stupid fad, but when I bought him, it was all the rage. When it was over, I was much too used to call him “Rex” to bother changing’.

‘— Claire is named after my grandmother…’, Brent told us with malice in his eyes.

‘— Eww!’ I protested, ‘Must you be such a pervert?’

‘— Hey! At least I left her intact.’

‘— When are you having your new toy clipped?’, Gwen asked me with a hint of contrariety.

‘— Next monday.’

‘— So soon? All my nights are busy this week.’

‘— Bring him Thursday night, we’ll do him together.’ Brent suggested.

Gwen exhulted.

‘— You are lovely!’, she said kissing his bald head. She and Brent being fuck-buddies was one of those refreshing incongruences of a woman’s soul, for other than my short plump friend, all her lovers were the fashion model type. ‘Can we have him Thursday, Ted?’

‘— Of course you can, beautiful.’ I said. ‘It’s a pleasure to be of service to my two best and kinkiest friends.’

We toasted to that.

It was only when I’ve got home that I realised how tired I was. I went directly to bed, where tiredness fought a battle with horniness and won, and tough my hard cock pleaded for attention, I felt into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I woke up with a raging erection, like my dick was going to burst. I thought sadly that if I had a girl slave like Brent, I would now have the blowjob of my life. But the truth was that I wasn’t that fond of fucking slaves, and had noticed that free women, though not always as selfless, were more committed to the act. Brent had told me that when it’s your own slaves they are much more engaged, but I wasn’t convinced.

Having only my own hand to satisfy me, I reached for my bedside table to the tin of Vaseline, in order to start my ritual. At least I knew I had an entire hour before me, though I doubted I could hold it for that long, because of the added stimulation of a full bladder. Indeed, 30 minutes later I was climaxing messily and noisily, firing gobs of semen all over the bed and roaring like a hurt lion.

I lay quietly for a few minutes, appreciating the aftershock, wiped myself on the sheets and decided to start my day. After a good shower, of course.

I talked to my housekeeper over breakfast.

‘— Is everything ready for the arrival of the slave?’

‘— Since last week.’

‘— Have you made arrangements so he can be fed adequately?’

‘— Stop worrying, Theodore. I’ve reviewed all the routines so we can accommodate him properly.’

‘— You are priceless, Linda. Just one more thing: see that my bed gets fresh linen, please?’

In my way to the office, I benefited from the pause between phone calls to instruct the driver:

‘— You’ll pick him up at half past two, Tom. You’ll need a procuration, see Peter about that. Drive him home and let Linda take care of him. Call me to say everything went well. Come back to pick me at 7.’

The day went uneventfully. I mean, lots of decisions big and small, but all business related. When I received Tom’s message saying Ernest was home, my cock reacted immediately, and I almost excused myself from a meeting to have a little jerk-off break. I finally decided this was not reasonable and kept my focus on the company for the remaining of the afternoon.

When I entered home, Ernest was waiting for me like a dog. He was dressed in the neutral yet provocative way which sex slaves usually bore. In his case, a white t-shirt and a pair of stretch jeans, both just a little on the tight side. He had also a collar, which, by law, all slaves have to wear. His was a fine piece of jewellery, a thin black leather strap, with shiny studs which looked like titanium. A nice touch from Derek, the trader from which I had bought him.

He looked at me intently, yet submissively, and I understood he wanted to talk.

‘— Speak, Ernest.’

‘— I only wished to say I hope you are having a good evening, Master Stewart.’

Boy, this felt nice. All this careful wording just to greet me. But this was not the kind of relationship I wanted with him. Gwen had already told me that the most difficult part of breaking a new slave is to remove the layers and layers of submissive rituals.

‘— From now on, Ernest, you can talk without waiting for my permission when we are alone. And I also prefer if you call me Ted, unless we are in company. Can you remember this?’

‘— Sure, Ted.’

This was exceptionally amusing. It was like playing Play-Doh with someone’s mind. I told him I would get rid of my suit and come back so we could talk. I’ve changed my shoes for a pair of slippers, and dressed myself in a robe which left-me with a very visible hard-on under my silk boxers.

When I came back downstairs, he was still standing, and held a cocktail glass by the base.

‘— I prepared you a Manhattan, Ted.’

I took the glass from his hands, smiling.

‘— Who told you I drink Manhattans?’

‘— Miss Redmond told me I should have one ready whenever you come home directly from the company.’

Linda was really priceless. The drink was mixed expertly, but I liked them with more bitter than the classic recipe. Ernest took note.

‘— Grab something to drink, Ernest, and let’s talk.’

By law, owners can’t offer alcohol to their slaves. One of the reasons it sucks to be a slave it’s almost all recreational drugs are forbidden to them, even those legally available to free citizens, like tobacco, meth, poppers or cannabis. Yet, Ernest’s eyes gleamed with desire.

‘— Can I have a Perrier, Ted?’

‘— Of course. And you can have one whenever you want, too.’

‘—Thank you, Ted.’

I admired his elegant gestures, as he took a small green bottle from the fridge and served himself a glass.

I collapsed in a sofa and told Ernest to have a sit. He glanced at the bulge on my shorts and asked:

‘— Should I sit by your side, Ted?’

I pointed across the coffee table.

‘— Take that couch, instead. I want just to talk, for the moment.’

Gwen had strongly urged me to tell him in clear terms what I wanted from him. Sure, some traditionalists prefer the old Pavlovian method, alternating whips and sweets, as the slave slowly infer how he is expected to behave. But this would work poorly on an intelligent slave. ‘Rewarding and punishing have their place’, she had said, ‘but after paying a fortune for a beast which can actually understand human language, it is stupid to forgo this ability.’

‘— We need a better name for you. How do you like Andy?’

‘— It’s perfect, Ted.’ was his predictable answer.

I explained Andy (formerly Ernest) why I had bough him. As he listened intently, he tried to keep an expression of neutral interest, but I could see he was surprised.

‘— So, you understand I don’t want to fuck you, and much less you to fuck me?’

‘— Yes, Ted, I can see…’

‘— Perhaps an occasional hand-job. Or a blowjob. You are good at blowjobs, I hope?’

‘— My trainer told me I am now very good.’

‘— Great!’

‘— May I ask you a question, Ted?’

‘— Yes, Andy. And you can do it without asking permission, too.’

‘— If I understood well, you mainly want me to watch you while you gratify yourself?’

‘— While I jerk-off, Andy. Don’t talk like a prude.’

‘— And also to watch while you fuck your girlfriends?’

‘— Exactly.’ I said smiling at his immediate change of vocabulary.

‘—So I am to be some sort of personal voyeur?’

I laughed at his choice of words.

‘— Yes, but there is more to it. Come here.’

He walked across the room and stand before me.

‘— I want to check if the product corresponds to the advertisement,’ I said reaching for the button on his jeans.

I unfastened his trousers and pulled them down with a little effort. He had no underwear, which was thoughtful, so I got immediate view of his package: a set of large, low hung balls, and a handsome uncircumcised cock, which was already in its way from rest to alertness.

‘— Very nice indeed. Now, be honest, Andy. When was the last time you jerked off.’

‘— This afternoon, while I took my shower, Ted.’

‘— And how often do you do it normally?’

‘— I do it three times a day, unless my trainer asks me not to.’ His voice was steady, without hint of embarrassment.

‘— And what was the longest time you’ve ever stayed without doing it?’

‘— Two weeks, during the training on abstinence.’

‘— Two weeks? It’s not much. I bet you could do better than that.’

‘— If you want Ted.’ He hesitated for the first time. ‘But abstinence training was the only course they whipped me.’

‘— Really? And what for?’

‘— I failed it twice in a row.’ He sounded sincerely constricted. ‘The first time I was caught with the hands on my pants in the second day of the training. The second time, I gave up just two nights before the end. My trainer was furious. But I managed to pass on the third try.’

‘— Interesting. You know, “personal voyeur” is a nice description for the first half of your job.’

I run the back of a finger caressingly through the length of his cock, which by now was rock-hard. With the other hand I fondled his balls.

‘— The other half is to develop the worst case of blue balls ever registered on History.’ I said finally. ‘I have no intention to put a 24/7 watch on you, Andy. But I have no faith in your strength of will, either. I have already though of a definitive solution, but until then I want you to wear this.’

I reached my pocket for the cage. It was a finely crafted chastity device, a series of steel rings connected by straps of leather. Two other straps went around the base of the cock and sack, and the whole was held securely by a small padlock.

He maintained a neutral expression, but his voice betrayed anxiety.

‘— What would be the definitive solution, Ted?’

I laughed.

‘— That will be a surprise, Andy. Put this on, please.’

‘— You mean, right now?’

‘— No, silly, tomorrow, after you spend all night jerking-off. Of course, right now!’

He took the gadget suspiciously, turn around awkwardly (his pants being around his ankles), and started to work on the task.

‘— Does it fit?’

‘— It will, once I go limp.’

He turned back a couple of minutes later, his manhood now entrapped on the device. I passed the padlock through the fastener and closed it. It was most satisfying click I’ve ever heard.

‘— Good. How does it feel?’

‘— Very comfortable. I can’t feel the steel at all, only the soft touch of the leather.’

‘— Perfect. Sit here.’

I gave him my Vaseline can and a packet of tissues.

‘— I want to teach you how to lubricate my cock. And you will see that the couch stays free of stains, right?’

I was amazed of how little I had to instruct him in order to get him doing exactly what I wanted. He had a nice grip too, big manly hands, but surprisingly soft. No wonder he touched himself so often. My cock was covered in a thin layer of grease when he started to masturbate me. I meant to stop him, but it felt so mightily good I didn’t have the heart to. Only when I was on the verge of cumming I grabbed his arm and exclaimed:

‘— Stop, Andy, stop!’

‘— Did I do anything wrong?’

‘— No, no. But I don’t want to cum so fast. I’ll take it from here, you just watch.’

I resumed stroking while Andy observed me intently. He had the sweetest expression, a mix of submission and greed, as if he were at the same time happy for and jealous of the pleasure I was getting. From time to time our eyes would meet and the sexual charge was so powerful, I had to take a breath, to avoid cumming immediately. I looked at his cock, now hard again, but securely locked in its leather cage, and shivered.

When I finally came, it was like watching champagne spilling from a roughly opened bottle. Since Andy was in charge of the tissues, my only concern was to surrender completely to that marvellous short-circuit and make as much noise as I felt like.

My balls completely empty, I collapsed limply at the couch, still shivering intensely. It took me a good five minutes before I could articulate anything.

Andy waited until I had savoured my orgasm to the last bit, and then started to delicately mop around my cock and my balls. Though he had done a good job in protecting the couch and the carpet, his t-shirt was covered in sperm. But even if he wiped me completely, he didn’t make any gesture to clean himself, which I found kind of flattering.

I was already drifting to a pleasant drowsiness.

‘— I am going to bed, Andy.’

‘— Can I do anything else for you?’

‘— Not today, thank you. Go read a book, watch a movie, make yourself comfortable. Just don’t make loud noises.’

‘— I won’t perturb your sleep, Ted.’

I suddenly remembered something Gwen had told me, and reached my pocket for a square of chocolate. During their training, slaves were forbidden to touch their favourite foods. This made easy for future owners to select a method of reward.

Andy looked with lust at the tiny parcel, as I got it unwrapped. I saw his nostrils widen, catching the faint sweet smell.

‘— This is the best chocolate money can buy, Andy. I bet my right ball you’ve never tasted anything this good. Open your mouth.’

He half-opened his mouth in the most charming way, closing his eyes and making the expression of someone about to receive the Host. I deposited the brown square on his tongue and he moaned.

‘— This is because you have been a good boy. Goodnight, Andy.’

His pasty goodnight was the cutest thing. He got to his feet immediately when I rose to leave. But when I glanced at him from the stair case, he had sit down again, with the look of someone who ponders about his own luck, the chocolate still melting in his mouth while he gazed at his captive member.