Chapter 1

 

I first met him in his role as a visiting company representative to my local supermarket and I was immediately struck by his incredible good looks and fabulously athletic physique.

He had the face of a matinee idol with jet-black very fine gleaming hair, very dark, almost black eyes and features that would strike a chord in any woman. But it was his body that really got to me. He certainly wasn't overly muscular. I would say that every single muscle on his body was perfect in size and shape, clearly toned to the utmost and I ached to reach out and feel his biceps.

Of course I didn't. But I did take the opportunity of introducing myself and asking him about a particular product. We got to chatting about it and then I asked him if gymnastics was his sport. He seemed surprised and I explained that in my youth it had also been mine, although now that I am in my forties, I have long since abandoned its practice.

We talked on for a few minutes and then I asked him his name. "David," he said and I laughed.

"Well, how about that; it's mine, too.

And from then on, I kept a weather eye out for him and always had a word or two when it was possible.

Oh, how I dreamt about him. Every night, just before going to sleep I would imagine and create scenarios where he came to me and asked to be my slave. Yes, I know it's a bit bizarre, but I never imagine scenarios where I have a lover; he is always, in my imaginings, my slave.

I suppose that in my whole life I have never had a close relationship with another human being, male or female, and so that is why I shy away from it even in my dreams. But it's more than that: I like to imagine a superbly-muscled handsome young man going about my house naked and even more than naked, having stripped him permanently of his natural body hair, for a totally smooth body is a particular fetish of mine.

I had been engaging in such dreams all of my adult life, far too scared of public disapprobation from family, friends and colleagues to openly admit to my gay tendencies. In fact I actually dated girls although never went past an affectionate kiss with them. Needless to say, these associations led nowhere. And then at night, alone in my bed, I would dream of my latest male fantasy-model. It might be a film star, a local surfer or just someone I saw in the street. He would always come to me and I was quite inventive about him asking to be my slave, never once considering that it might ever happen for real.

 

My name is David Winterspoon and I am a graduate lawyer with my own practice here on the Gold Coast of Queensland, Australia. I had always loved the law and attained an Honours degree before joining a small practice here on the Coast. Within three years I was a partner and ten years later was able to buy out my senior on his retirement and now employ two other lawyers and five support staff.

I did all the 'right' things such as joining Rotary and the local gymnastics club and I believe despite my single status, was accepted in the community. I live in a very nice, but not ostentatious house at Robina; drive a Jaguar and dress well but not showily.

I certainly did not pursue handsome young men and invite them to my house. I looked, but I didn't touch. This was partly a continuation of my concern for my own reputation, partly a dread of picking up a communicable disease, but even more a real fear of entering into a real relationship with another man.

Weird? You bet! But that's the way I was.

And so, imagine my surprise and pleasure when, one Friday afternoon when I visited the supermarket on my way home from the office, I found him standing outside it and texting somebody on the phone. He saw me, smiled, finished his messaging and greeted me: "Hello David, nice to see you."

"Hello yourself, David," I responded with a smile. We fell to chatting for a few minutes and then he paused, and looked at me seriously for a moment.

"Look, I wonder if I could ask you a couple of questions?"

"Of course," I said, wondering what this was all about.

"May I ask if you are single and do you live alone?"

I had a sudden premonition that these two questions were of paramount importance to him and I responded accordingly: "Yes, to both questions, David. May I ask why that is of interest to you?"

"Because I would like to come and talk to you about something very private and very personal."

"Well I would be more than pleased to welcome you to my home at any time. What about now?"

"Do you not have some shopping to do first?"

"Nothing that can't wait and I sense this is very important to you. Follow me home right now if you like?"

"Thank you, David. That would be great."

He didn't make any comment about my car, or, when we got there, my house, either, simply following me inside and straight into my small sitting room. I offered him a drink which he refused and then gestured to a chair. "I sense this is something of great moment to you, David, so I won't say anything other than let you tell me about it in your own words and in your own time."

He looked at me gratefully and I'm sure my heart was already beating nineteen to the dozen. "Thank you, David. I appreciate very much your understanding. Believe me, what I am about to relate to you is probably one of the most important changes I can imagine and your sympathy and understanding is exactly what I thought it would be from our few conversations together.

"Until a month or so ago, I was (or thought I was) a happily married man. My wife is utterly beautiful, caring, a good housekeeper and cook and our sex life was great. As I said, though, I thought it was.

"Apparently however, she has been two-timing me from the beginning and my best man, who was also my best friend, was her lover. I never suspected them and it was only when they came to me, confessed their love and said it had been going on ever since our marriage two years previously, that I was apprised of it.

"I was shocked, disappointed and horrified, all in one go and then simply went to our room, packed my bags and left them, taking a room in a hotel while I sorted out my emotions. It had hit me like a sledgehammer in the guts. I couldn't believe that what I had thought of as our love for one another was a total sham and that she truly loved Peter.

"And then, over the next few weeks as I sat and thought about our marriage and our lives together, I realised something else: women, all of them, were bitches and I didn't want to have anything to do with any of them ever again.

"That all happened about the time we first met in the store and over the next few weeks it came to me, not suddenly, but as a slowly developing notion, that I wanted you..."

I stared at him in utter and total awe, not even considering the ramifications of what he had just said. "Me?" I exclaimed. "But David, I am middle-aged, well past my prime and tending to the tubby, while you are young, handsome, beautifully built and have the world and your future in front of you? What could you possibly see in me?"

He grinned, wiping away the melancholic expression hitherto written all over his face as he had described his woes to me. "That's not at all how I see you, David. To me you are like my father, sadly now long gone, and one of my teachers whom I admired greatly. But it's much more than that which I am hoping for from you. I hope you won't be horrified at what I'm about to say: that I have of late, been dreaming of you as my master and I as your slave..."

He paused a moment and then looked at me warily, then went on: "I suppose now you will explode and just kick me out, but I've been truthful and that is what I really feel."

And once again I stared at him in even more awe for here were all my dreams come to fruition in one fell swoop. Did I dare pursue this? Oh, how I wanted to. He was everything I could ever have wished for in my night-time reveries. I decided to question him further about his conceptions of his slavery to me.

I smiled at him and then told him I had no intention whatsoever of kicking him out, as he put it, but was interested in how he perceived such a slavery. "For example, how do you believe a slave such as yourself should be dressed whilst in the house?"

"Oh, I imagine that he would be naked. Aren't slaves always naked except when public morals might forbid it?"

I grinned. "Of course, you are quite right. Well, why are you still dressed then?"

I then sat back to see what he would do. For answer, he stood up, stripped off his company T-shirt and folded it neatly then put it down on the chair he had just vacated. This was the first time I had seen his body even half naked and I was hard-put not to drool as my eyes raked up and down his so beautiful upper body. But he didn't stop there. His uniform comprised a matching T-shirt and pants and they were the next to go. And as he stripped them down over his thighs and legs, again I was trembling in my efforts to remain calm as the beautiful curves and strands of muscle in his thighs corded and flexed as he raised and lowered each leg in turn.

His shoes had disappeared with his pants and there now remained just the socks and the very brief underpants. He made short work of them, folding them as he had the other two garments and making a neat pile of them and placed his shoes on top of the lot.

He then assumed the Position of Inspection, which, if you are not aware, means that he spread his feet a little apart, then raised his hands and clasped them behind his head and flexed the various muscles all over his body in a display designed to allow a possible purchaser to inspect his body freely.

This was an open invitation to me and I therefore accepted it as such, rising and moving up close to him, and, now in a fever of delight, reached out to feel the so beautiful biceps in his left arm, admiring the apple-like shape and smooth texture of the muscle, while the other hand roved over his chest, those two squarish slabs of warm, male muscle, and then further down over the eight-pack comprising his prominent abdominal muscles. But I didn't stop there, either. I now brought my other hand down to feel and fondle the two boyish buns comprising his tiny, bubble-shaped buttocks. From there they roved down over his beautiful thighs and back up to his belly muscles.

You will note that I have omitted any mention of his genitalia. I did this on purpose, for they are without a doubt the most beautiful and spectacular parts of his body.

But before I describe them, I should also comment on the total lack of hair on his body. On the occasions we had bumped into one another previously I had noted the smoothness of his cheeks and chin. Most men show some evidence of their moustache and beards even freshly shaved. His face appeared naturally smooth and this was another feature of him that I adored so much. Now as I stared up and down at the spectacle now displayed before me, I marvelled at the beauty of his so smooth and naked flesh. There was not a hair to be seen anywhere. Not under his arms, on his chest, his legs and certainly not at his pubes.

I didn't comment at this stage but now allowed my left hand to cup his dangling balls whilst my right returned to his buttocks, idly stroking the so soft smoothness of the flesh there. But most of my senses were focused on his testicles. They were big but not grossly so and his scrotum, unlike mine, was quite smooth, not crinkly. His penis was about eighteen centimetres long, and I would guess, about three in diameter, so pretty respectable in anyone's language.

As I hefted his balls and then allowed my hand to slide over the beauty of his penis, it began to swell and lengthen and in no time was fully rigid, standing straight up his so muscly belly and quivering in a very obvious desire for more of my fingering of his superb body.

I looked up at his face: "You like me touching you, boy?" I said.

He now looked to be in a state of rapture. "Oh yes, master. It's everything I hoped it would be. Please feel free to keep on checking out my body."

I did. I couldn't get enough of the silky-soft, so smooth texture of his beautiful muscles and I therefore allowed my hands to freely rove all over his body until I sensed that enough was enough and returned to my chair, still staring at him as he now resumed the gentle flexing that displayed it so well.

"Very well, David. You've convinced me of the sincerity of your desire to be my slave. I can now tell you that from the moment I first set eyes on you I dreamed that this might happen and now it has. It's almost too good to be true but as I say, I believe you are sincere and so we are now going to explore how this slavery will proceed.

"In my profession, I believe it will be best if we keep your true status here concealed. I'm not sure about your company and your colleagues but it may well be that you may have the same feelings?"

He nodded. "Yes, master. I think that may well be the case. So what do you suggest?"

"I would suggest that we intimate that I have discovered your marital situation and have offered you temporary lodging with me, as a friend. As time passes, we may choose, jointly, to make known the truth of the matter however, right now, let's keep it to ourselves.

"I asked you a little while ago how you perceive your slavery to me. I repeat the question."

"Well, as your slave, I would imagine I would be required to do all the housework, cooking, laundry, gardening, maintenance, et cetera, et cetera. But I also believe that as your slave I ought not to be a burden upon you and that I should therefore retain my employment and perform all those other duties after or before work. And especially at weekends.

"Believe me, master, it will be a labour of love. As I contemplate toiling away naked, stark naked, I can already feel the thrill of being a slave 'forced' to labour naked at the fastest possible pace."

"And it will be a thrill for me to creep up on you and watch your superb muscles flexing and straining as you perform them. But I have another question, David. I don't know whether you are aware of it or not but I have a fetish about smooth bodies, that is without ugly hair on them. Yours is as perfect as I could ever have imagined. Have you had yourself depilated or is it natural?"

"Actually, master, in my case it is perfectly natural. I have never grown under arm or pubic hair. At first it was an embarrassment for me but those girlfriends who saw me naked all seem to think it quite beautiful although in the shower-room at the gym some of my friends used to poke fun at me..."

"Well not me. I think it truly adds the final touch to the true splendour of your body. And that leads me to another matter. May I ask what you are expecting of me sex-wise? Perhaps I ought to explain..."