I find it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else but his visits. One day my journal pages contained nothing but the words “Stephen’s slave” repeated over and over again. Five pages of it. The Master couldn’t help noticing what I’d done when I wordlessly handed the papers to him as he was leaving that night, though he usually leaves reading my journal for morning. He scanned the pages, his eyebrows dancing, and then sat down again.
“Is there something you need to tell me, slave? Or ask me?”
“Master,” I said, on my knees before him, “are you planning to give me to Stephen?”
“Maybe. How would you feel about it if I did?”
“Master, I’m not sure. He can wrap me around his finger, Sir . . . ,” I said and stopped, confused.
“And? What’s troubling you, slave?”
“Master, is it any more than sex? Would I trust him, Sir, if he weren’t your slave, Sir?”
“I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to trust him.”
“Yes, Sir, of course, but I don’t really know him, Sir, not the way a slave should know the Master he gives himself to — not the way I know you, for instance, Sir. But if you think it would be good for me, Sir, to serve him, I will follow your lead, Sir.”
“That’s a hopeful sign, slave, your trusting me in that. Maybe this experiment you cooked up is working!”
“Sir, thank you, Sir.”
“Nevertheless, I won’t make that decision for you. When the time comes, it must be your own free choice.” He sighed heavily before continuing.
“I never planned what’s been happening between you and Stephen, slave, and it’s damned inconvenient for me! It’s an accident that our experiment coincided with his blossoming as a Top. Or maybe not — maybe you’re bringing it out in him.”
“Sir, it’s nothing I’ve done intentionally, Sir.”
“I know that, slave. I’ve known for more than two years that Stephen would turn Top eventually — before he knew it himself. It’s just that I thought the process would be slower, giving me plenty of time to replace him as my house slave and business assistant.”
He stopped and sighed again, shifting in his seat.
“Stephen certainly didn’t show any eagerness to switch before. I let him watch me train other slaves, or do scenes with experienced bottoms, and I explained a lot of the techniques I used. He would assist me in the dungeon whenever I needed him, but he hung back from doing anything solo, even when I offered him opportunities.
“Then you came, and he begged me to let him help take care of you. Now he’s spending most of his free time in here with you, or planning what he’ll do to you next. He’s driving me crazy with his questions!”
He paused in thought, then continued.
“By now he’s gone through every piece of gear I own, asking how to use it, what dangers he should be aware of, how heavy it’s safe to get with it. I’ve looked at the tapes from his sessions with you, and it’s remarkable how good he is already. But you should be able to tell if he has real feelings for you or is just using you like a practice dummy.”
“Master, most of the time he acts like he cares for me, but then occasionally he’ll be cold and distant. So I don’t know what he really feels, Sir.”
“Well, you’re a captive slave, not really anyone’s property, and he’s a Top in training feeling his oats. I’m not surprised if he enjoys keeping you guessing. But I think he does care for you. He’s never seemed happier than since he started having regular sessions with you. He glows with the energy you feed him.”
“Master, thank you for telling me that. Sir, Stephen makes me happy, too, even when he gives me terrible pain. Sir, I endure it for his sake, because he wants it so much.”
“That’s good, because he was a heavy masochist as a bottom, and he’s turning into an extremely sadistic Top. But also a good one, a careful one — one you can trust, slave.
“And more than just a Top: he’s aiming at Mastery. I can tell by the questions he’s asked about you. He wanted to be sure your food was really adequate and healthy, for instance, and he’s the one who makes sure your toilet gets flushed without fail half a dozen times a day. He’s made suggestions to me about your exercise regimen, and he wanted to know all about the terms of our agreement.
“No, he’s not just a Top interested in unconnected scenes. He’s learned that owning is better than renting — if you can handle the upkeep.”
“Master, do you think he can? Sir, how much could he know of life from being your slave?”
“Don’t sell him short, slave!” he said almost angrily. “Somehow you talked me into setting up this experiment in long-term confinement, but my other slaves do real work — they’re not just toys to play with. Stephen has had as much experience dealing with the real world as most men his age, if not more.”
“Yes, Master. Begging your pardon, Sir.”
“That’s okay,” he said, looking kindly at me again. “Why do you think I can afford to stay home so much of the time? It’s because I send him out to represent me, sparing me the trouble. And his experience being a slave can only be an asset for a Master. It’s more than I had, more than most Masters have. He’ll make mistakes, sure, but he won’t have to guess what it feels like on the other end of the leash, or the whip. He’ll know, and you won’t be able to put anything over on him. He’s bright and he’s sensible, and with the right slave he’ll learn from his mistakes rather than becoming spoiled or giving up in despair. Can you handle being his slave?”
“Master, I don’t know. But if he wants me, and if we have your blessing and counsel, I’ll do my best, Sir.”
“We’ll see, slave.”
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