Becoming His Slave

by Talon P. S.

  Paris bite his lips to keep the curse from coming out and dropped his head. He didn’t even want to see what the others thought of him.

  “Perhaps this would be a good time to head over to the club.” Dane suggested, trying not to laugh at the handful his brothers were obviously having to deal with. It was actually entertaining even though they didn’t seem to see it that way right now.

  “Actually I think it’s time we took Paris back to get his things.” Diesel commented, his eyes on Paris as he said it. “He’s not here to receive the training or the experience. He’s a lost cause and we’re wasting our time. Time better spent looking for a new director.”

  Paris was mortified at the suggestion, “Patronus, I beg you. Please.” But Diesel was shutting him out, looking to Trenton to agree with him. Paris turned to look at Trenton, but reminded himself to keep his eyes down, “Dominus please don’t send me away. Please I need to do this.”

  “He’s impossible.” Diesel countered the pleas offered by Paris. “He doesn’t get it and won't try. Send him off.”

  “Dominus please don’t do it. I’m the best person for the resort, don’t send me away.”

  “I’m telling you, he’ll have every perfectly trained slave in absolute defiance in no time. It’ll be chaos down there and someone will end up getting hurt.”

  “Dammit—No! It’s not true.” Paris barked back, turning to Diesel his eyes begging. “Please Patronus don’t do this to me. That’s not how it’s going to happen.” Paris was beside himself. He had worked so hard to get the position from the day they opened their doors to the day he stood in front of Alan Pridmore with his portfolio in hand. He had worked diligently to make sure there was no one better for the position. He knew every inch of its land, every grain of sand on its beaches, the laws both for the island and the surrounding ones. Which assets they could gain from nearby islands, contingency plans to keep guests coming, happy, as well as safe, even during hurricane season.

  And he spent the last 6 months as its director getting the special event season ready, with added features, meals, entertainment, foods, the works. And to have it all striped from him, because he himself had never had the experience of being a slave. How could this possibly be fair? They weren’t even giving him a chance to ease down into the roll. Find a comfortable spot where it wouldn't feel so humiliating to say—yes master, no master.

  Paris folded over, pressing his head against Diesel’s boot and stayed there, “Please don't send me away.”

  Trenton and Diesel kept silent a moment just watching Paris’ submission. For the first time he was breaking down, but he wasn’t completely there. If they couldn’t get him completely submitted by the end of the night they never would. At least not in a manner that it should be done and not well enough for him to be complying for the training. He was supposed to be submitting for the training and fuss with the sexual torment, not fight the training itself.

  Fambleush watched from across the table with increasing concern as Diesel and Trenton both seemed to lose their patience over the man. While trying, yes, but Diesel was out right livid and to threaten to do away with a slave in their first day just didn’t seem right. He’d never known Patronus Diesel or the Dominus to be so short tempered.

  Of course it was no surprise the man was bucking, after all they had allowed him to conduct business at the table and then to just throw him back on his heels in submission. They should have seen this coming. It worried Fambleush further as he glanced over to his sweet Marcena. He knew she needed a considerable amount of corrective training, but he found himself having second thoughts if perhaps the Dominus had lost his patience for the job.

  “He’s—” He was about to protest when Trenton’s hand waved him back into silence.

  Trenton waved a hand to cut them off, with no regard of who it was about to speak. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anyone making any type of comments—nothing of the kind. Anything that might suggest judgment was going to send Paris' walls back up and he'd come up bucking fresh and new.

  Fambleush kept silent. He would not dare disregard the Dominus with his own slave and that’s when he started to see the transformation take place. From the start the large and beautiful built man had continued to attempt to steer his own reins. It wasn’t until the Patronus and the Dominus threatened to saddle him up and send him on his way that he finally handed the reins over to them.

  What had appeared like Master Diesel losing his patients was actually a set-up to manipulate the man to give up his control, to finally submit rather than just comply. How extraordinary. To think he had dared to question the Dominus. He would never make that mistake again.

  Trenton nodded to Diesel, who then bent over Paris, “Are you ready to submit to the training now?”

  “Yes Patronus. Yes Dominus.” Paris wasted no time with his response, but he kept his head down, not breaking the contact between his head and Diesel’s boot.

  “Then its time you relinquished all control.” Diesel glanced at Fambleush noticing his silk scarf draped over his neck, “May I?”

  Fambleush followed his eyes to his scarf, “Ah—yes, it is yours.” He slid it from his neck and passed it over.

  Diesel took the navy scarf and draped it over Paris’ eyes and tied it. While Trenton explained his position. “Letting Paris speak on matters of business should not interfere with his submission no more than if I had allowed him to suck my cock. As his master, I will at times use his skills to please me, but he is expected to remain surrendered to me at all times.

  Listening to the new understanding he was being given, Paris didn’t buck, but his breathing quickened, as Diesel pulled his shoulders up till he was once again sitting on his heels. Tied and now blind.

  Diesel held him there for a moment letting him adjust to the blindfold. Taking it one step at a time. And he and the others all watched as Paris slowly and silently came apart.

  Paris couldn’t see a damn thing. It was one thing to hide under the table and not want to see the expressions the others had of his predicament, but to be refused to see, to have his sight just completely removed from him was far worse. What were they thinking? Hell why did he even care? He was on his knees, shackled and now blindfolded, all for a fucking job.

  He could feel the heat from Diesel’s hand on his shoulder and it was the only reassurance that he was still there. Diesel didn’t speak. In fact no one did. Everyone was completely silent. What the hell? It didn’t make any sense. They’d talked all night why was everyone quiet now? If it hadn’t been for Diesel’s hand, he’d have to wonder if anyone was there at all.

  Paris couldn’t silence the panic coming over him. Couldn’t stop the shiver he felt; only the warmth of Diesel’s hand.

  “Easy there big fella. You’re still safe.” Diesel finally spoke to him.

  Paris took a deep breath, okay he was still safe. Diesel really was still there and not just his hand.

  “You're doing just fine.” More soothing reassurance and the hand moved to the back of his neck and caressed him there. Ah damn, why did that feel so good? He wondered as his head fell back trying to relax in Diesel’s touch, or just feel more of it. Like it was the very thing he needed.

  “We’re gonna get up now and head over to the club and you’re going to behave, right?

  “Yes, Patronus.” Paris’ response was a deep and breathy whisper.

  “Good boy.”

  “Patronus may I?”

  “You may.”

  “I’m in a skirt with my hands behind my back. It’s hard for me to get up.

  “That’s right, because now you must rely on your masters.” Diesel moved the hem of the floor length kilt Paris was wearing then scooped a hand under one of his arms, “Rock back and I’ll pull you up.”

  Paris did as commanded, rocking back onto his toes then up on his feet, while Diesel’s strong arm steadied his balance as he stood.

  “Got your balance now?” Diesel quizzed him, his hand still holding him st
eady just in case he was not.”

  “Yes Patronus.”

  “Good. Now I want you to walk. I'll guide you, but I don’t want to feel any resistance from you.”

  “You're not going to take the blindfold off as we go through the restaurant?”

  “No. Half the people in here will one day come down to the resort and they’ll be begging you to fulfill their needs. That’s why you’re here now, Paris. So you can learn firsthand what those needs will be.”

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  “Good evening, Dominus. You’re a little early tonight.” They were all greeted door girl once they stepped into Club Pain.

  “Hello Vida. Put me down for one guest and three Slaves please.” Trenton gave the instructions to Vida. But in actuality Vida wasn’t a girl at all. Well not entirely, Vida was a full time cross dressing drag queen and in Club Pain she was well loved. The Bell of the castle they often said.

  Vida caught site of Paris, the broad shoulders and chest now fitted with a tight slate grey muscle shirt along with the grey lined red plaid floor length kilt. “Oh, he’s nice to look at.”

  Paris dared some robust play and blew his unseen admirer a kiss, without the hand gesture part since they were still shackled behind his back.

  "Oooo—” Vida let out a high pitch gasp, “And such a sweet talker too.”

  “How we looking tonight Vida doll?” Dane came up and leaned against the window and propped an arm up on the counter.

  “It’s a full house.” Vida’s eyes following the remaining brothers as they walked by, “And with a royal flush too. You know the birthday bash isn’t till next weekend?”

  “I know.”

  “Then how did you get Harper in here?”Vida looked at his brother with a ghost of hurt in them.

  Dane touched his brother’s face to wipe the look away. “Just lucky I guess.” His gaze flickered down the hall watching Harper follow with the others toward Trenton’s booth. “It has been awhile huh?”

  “Too long. Sometimes I worry you’ve lost him as a brother.”

  “That’ll never happen.” Dane turned back locking eyes with Vida as if what he said held a double meaning. He scratched at his forehead figuratively with a thumb. But the silent truth was they had all worried over Harper some, over the years. Ever since Harper started the private eye business actually. He’d grown distant; the more he saw the worse of what a human could be; the more he drew away from them. He’d even given up the pleasures he once got from B&D. He couldn’t stomach it, couldn’t separate it in his mind. And they didn’t push it, but they never let him forget he was still part of the pack. That would never go away.

  “Give me a recap.” Dane shifted the topic over.

  “Well the night is still early, but Olla had her girl on the alter for some hot wax play. Sasha had one of his boys in the stocks for some audience participation with foot tickling and—” Vida glanced at her schedule “and there has been a request for you to demonstrate rope bondage.”

  Dane leaned over planting a kiss on Vida’s forehead, crooked his chin then disappeared down the hall into the club.

  Paris' ears filled with the sounds of the night club. He heard the voices of several calling out for the bartender along with voices attempting to chatter over the music.

  The clunk and clank of liquor bottles dropping back into their holding trays, came and went as they continued past. He was guided up a set of steps onto a raised platform that seemed to circle around the dance floor, identified by the swelling music that now drowned out everything else and it was all Paris could do, not to dig in his heels, but he didn’t dare push it with the Patronus or the Dominus again. No matter what was in store for him, he would not fight them.

  “Relax big guy.” Paris heard the words spoken against his ear, felt Diesel’s hand on his neck comforting him. They were entering another area. He could tell by the way the music was becoming muted around them and he heard the door close into place against glass and Diesel’s voice turned softer, warmer than it had been all night. “Tonight is about trust. It’s important that a slave trusts his master. That no matter how far he may push his slave’s boundaries he will never allow him to be harmed. You still have to learn that. So tonight no matter what you hear or feel, nothing will be done to you.”

  Trenton turned to his guest. “Fam if you want to let the girls have some free time on the dance floor I will permit it.” He already had his hands full with Paris and just now getting him into a manageable pace, so Trenton was in no hurry to take over the two girls just yet and his offer for playtime scored some instant points, seeing their eyes light up with delight. “Perhaps Harper here will walk out with them and keep an eye on them.” Trenton deliberately pointed out his distant brother.

  “Trenton—” Harper was about to protest.

  “I didn’t ask you to flog them.” Trenton quickly interrupted, “I merely suggested you watch a pretty girl dance.” He turned facing him directly. “You know I never thought I’d say this to a man—but you really should try thinking with your dick instead of your head from time to time.” He let out a soft laugh then waved Diesel with him as he headed back out of his booth to parade Paris through the club.

  Trenton and Diesel lead Paris still bound and blindfolded out on the dance floor, stepping out into the center of the sea of bodies. The techno beat droning out a hypnotic rhythm had the crowd of dancers trundling and pulsating in sync with it. Once in place they stopped and allowed the bodies to draw close, drawing tight against the fallen angel bound and blinded like an offering for them and draw close they did.

  Paris could feel the movement of bodies, fell the radiation of heat. First the brush of an arm then hips. He felt someone brushing against his back and another at his side, someone’s hand was stroking across his chest, his mind glued to each touch trying to decipher which hand belonged to his handlers. They had both been holding him when they drew him out, but now he could not tell if they're touch was still in the mix of the others. Their hands no longer where they had been. He wasn’t entirely sure if either of them even still had him at all, but the hands that did, had him growing fitful—the hands roaming over his body were more then he could decipher—okay maybe fitful was an understatement. He was very nervous and the more bodies he felt surrounding him and less like he was in the hands of Dominus or Patronus, the closer his mind drew towards fear.

  “Dominus?” Paris called out to find that connection before he was really taken with panic and then he felt the strong hand against the side of his neck and the hands that had been stroking over his chest were gone.

  “Relax. You are still mine tonight.” Trenton was suddenly in front of him. The strong tone of his voice asserting his claim on him.

  Relieved, Paris dropped his head forward finding Trenton’s shoulder and he remained there, the contact of his body against his became his grounding. His security against the movement behind him. That surrender stirred a yearning in him, to have more contact with the Dominus. Still too many bodies coming in contact with him. Blind he could not see who, bound he could not push them away. It was an eerie feeling like being a pillar in the middle of an orgy. He struggled against the urge more like the need to crawl up in Trenton’s arms to escape the others.

  He pushed his face up finding Trenton’s neck inhaling the dark cologne of basil and absinth. “I was afraid you were gone.”

  “No, but should you ever try to escape my charge you risk venturing into dangerous places. You make yourself vulnerable.”

  “I don’t understand—” and he really didn’t care what the answer was. What he wanted was to be free of this. To be back in control of his surroundings. That he was not, was making him dizzy right now.

  “You should always keep close to your master. When he moves you move with him. And never allow others to lure you away. Your master is in charge not only of your pleasure and your discipline, but also your safety. So that connection must be kept within certain perimeters. Run away or try to escape wi
ll only place you in danger.”

  “Please take the blindfold off. I can’t handle being blind.” His only comfort at that moment was feeling Trenton’s body against his, his breath caressing his ear as the domineering man spoke to him. But it wasn’t enough to stir his cock just then.

  “No. It is important you learn to trust me. Trust that I would never let anything happen to you. You must also learn you have no control over what will happen.” And then Trenton stepped away from him.

  Paris felt an instant of panic when he lost contact with Trenton and he tried to take an immediate step forward to regain the connection he had with his Dominus, but another strong hand held him back by his shoulder. The hand of the Patronus, but even his touch was lost when it slid down his back becoming mixed within the touch of others given open access to him once more. Hands stroking over his back and sides and shoulders. Once again someone or several some ones touching his chest. He felt the muscular frame of someone rubbing against his thigh, someone of the male gender and the erection they coveted between them.

  Paris stiffened and his breath deepened. He didn’t like this, not being able to control who was allowed to touch him. While he loved making heads turn he didn’t let people touch him. It was his personal euphoria to lure then decide who he would seduce and allow to touch him. Always becoming focused in on his target and no amount of attempts from anyone else could ever detour him from his target. Even now, while the bodies that gyrated against him might stir arousal from another man it did nothing for his own. He knew what he wanted, and his need for arousal was very focused on the two men who would be his master for the next forty five days. The only ones he did want touching him were Trenton and Diesel.

  “Relax nothing is going to happen to you tonight,” Diesels voice was back at his ear again and Paris right away dropped his head back finding Diesel’s body just as he had Trenton’s.