I ACQUIRE A SLAVE

Mark Andrews

 

Chapter 1

t all happened very suddenly. In fact, it took only an hour or so and then I realised I actually had a slaveboy. A real life, live-in slaveboy who was also a university student; a highly intelligent young man and one who was extraordinarily handsome and was a dedicated fitness fanatic and therefore possessed of a near-perfect physique as well.

It started when he came to visit my house. I knew him, of course. He was the son of a friend and colleague of mine and therefore someone I had known for many years. I had watched him grow from a boy into a most personable young man, always smiling, helpful of others but ambitious for himself as well.

Oh, my name is David de Villiers, I am forty-eight years old and the part owner and marketing director of a fairly large manufacturing company based on the Gold Coast of Queensland, Australia. I regret to say I am also a little tubby and not at all fit although I did walk for an hour very early most mornings. I have never married but live by myself in a large double-storeyed house at Robina near the huge shopping centre in that suburb.

I am single by preference, not really into the marriage scene. I am, I suppose, bisexual but leaning towards the male. In either case, I am only interested in women or men who are real athletes. Despite my own lack of fitness, I abhor fat on a person and my fantasies always revolved around young men and women who are superb physical specimens and preferably handsome. Note I didn't say beautiful. In a female, I would far prefer the 'girl-next-door' tomboy type than the most ravishing beauty in the world but she has to be highly athletic.

Yes, I had experimented with sex - with both girls and boys but I didn't like either all that much and didn't even reach climax, not with any of them! I soon reverted to my own fantasies and images and videos of athletic males and females, preferably being 'corrected' or tortured for some information, or as a punishment (as in Singapore) or, more lately, as slaves.

This last scenario soon took over all the others and I imagined all sorts of human bondage: ancient Greek and Roman slavery, more recently Turkish and Arabian and of course of the Negroes of the southern states of the USA and of them labouring, always naked, under the most extreme duress. Sometimes a slave in my dreams needed to be ritually punished of course and here I thought up all manner of horrible physical and corporal disciplines for them.

I have another fetish, too. I hate hair on the human body and, as soon as I could afford it, had all of my own removed, permanently. Naturally all my dream slaves were perfectly smooth and hairless below their eyelashes. The males even had their beards removed!

So you can see why I live alone. No way could I share such bizarre fantasies with another person, male or female! I have a woman who comes in three times a week and cleans for me but I do my own garden and cook for myself when I'm not dining out with friends (who know nothing of my private fantasy world, of course).

My house is big, as I said. It fronts onto one of the numerous canals on the Gold Coast, although the land on which it sits is perched up high, right out of the worst projected flood levels and it also has a cellar which makes for three-storeys in all.

I do have my privacy, however. There is a high brick wall topped with steel spikes all around the property, for I am extremely security conscious. The block is also large as I like a big garden and even at the back which faces on to the canal, there is no access except through a sliding steel gate which I keep closed and locked. Of course, I can see over the canal wall from the house for it is right down near the water level.

So now you know about me and my house. As I said, it all started when James came to visit. There was nothing really unusual in this. He had been there before, but until then, only with his parents. This time he was alone and, as I always did, I almost openly ogled his handsome face and really beautiful physique once I had released the front gate lock and then opened the door to him.

I should here describe him. His full name is James Edwards; he is twenty-two years old, is blond with wavy, golden hair and his skin is also gold as well as satin-smooth and quite blemish-free. He has cornflower-blue eyes and a wide mouth, both of which are always smiling. His teeth are pure white and even and his nose small and straight.

His physique has to be near-perfect without being overdone. Every muscle is exactly the right size and toned and defined to perfection. In short he is a real matinee-idol in looks and yes, he has a girlfriend, one whom I understood he was going to marry - it was that serious.

He is studying physical education and has already graduated with his bachelor's degree but is now reading for his master's. I had no reason to believe he had the slightest interest in me at all and so I was more than a little surprised to see him standing there. Surprised but not at all put out.

Over the years I had fantasized about him in my night-time reveries...

Here, I must stress that I have never ever come on to a person who was not of legal age. In fact, as I said above, I never came on to anyone once I realised what was what with me. But that didn't stop me dreaming about them and as James had developed into a highly athletic teenager of eighteen and more, I had included him in my repertoire of subjects for my imaginings. The thought of him naked (which I had never ever seen of course) and spreadeagled taut between two poles for electrical torture to his genitals really had me going...

As I opened the door, I remembered guiltily that I had used him only last night in just such a fantasy and I must have looked quite shocked to see him. I got a hard grip on myself however, smiled and invited him in. We moved into my private sitting room and I offered him a drink, which he refused, but smiling, as always.

"No, but thanks, Dave. What I have come to see you about is personal. Very, very personal."

"I see, so how can I help?" I thought there must be some trouble at home and he wanted my advice as an old family friend. It was nothing like that. Nothing at all.

"I have been having some really weird dreams lately. And last night was the doozy of them all..."

I was shocked to the core. I had now guessed what was coming but I hadn't attained my position in the business world by showing my cards and so I merely raised my eyebrows and said, "Dreams, James?"

He grinned again and once more I had to get a grip on myself. He really was just so damned handsome!

"Yes, dreams. Really bizarre ones. In them, I am always a slave. In fact, I am your slave..." He glanced across at me but he clearly didn't think I had any idea of all this for he quickly went on. "And I am always naked, too. You make me work; boy do you make me work," and here his grin really broadened. "And then, last night there I was again, your slave, naked as usual but this time stretched out between two shining stainless steel posts, as tight as you like and you are about to attach electrodes to my nipples and to my cock and balls..."

"Good God!," I expostulated. "That's awful," I said, in simulated sympathy, stating the lie with as much sincerity as I could muster.

"No it's not," he said with an even wider grin and now stood up to reveal a massive boner through the board shorts which were his usual attire.

"You mean you enjoyed those dreams?" I said in real awe.

"I sure did. Ever since they first started, that was a few years ago now..." He paused and thought back. "I think it must have been about a year or so ago... Anyway, from that very first one, I have delighted in them, even the torture, which, I have to admit has been getting pretty full-on over the last few dreams."

He paused and stared at me seriously, then went on: "The thing is, I want to know how you feel about them?"

He now looked at me expectantly. He clearly wanted an answer. I had to think fast and my answer had to be the right one, I thought.

"James, I am flabbergasted..." I was, too. There was no doubt about that.

"Of course," he said. "I've sprung it on you. I just wanted to know if you had had similar dreams or thoughts for if so, I want it..."

There. He had said it. I presumed he meant he wanted the slavery but I had to check. And then he affirmed it all over again - and without the slightest shadow of a doubt.

"Dave, I cannot say it more clearly than this. If you really are my master and there have been signs of that, then I want it to be so. I want to come and live here. Perform as your slave just as I have in those dreams both as a houseboy and as your sex-slave."

"James, do you know what you are saying," I cried. "Your mother and father; your girlfriend, your studies...?"

He listened and then considered my words quite calmly. "Mum and Dad know all about it and suggest I must make up my own mind. I no longer have a girlfriend and I wish to continue with my studies, but as your slave."

"But what will people think - and say?"

"They will accept it as perfectly normal. In fact, I think you are about to get a call from Dad..."

I don't know if he was psychic but just then the phone rang.

"Dave? It's Pete. I take it James is there with you? Good. Just to let you know the two of you have our blessing..."

"Um, er," I said, then, "er blessing for what, Pete?"

"For the pair of you as master and slave, of course, what else?"