All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts.
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Corporate Slavery, Chapter 4
The Gentleman's Club, Hardwood, has been the social center for businessmen in this town for almost 300 years. It is so old that females are still not allowed inside, except the lobby. Executive seats are passed down in families. And there are only a limited number of memberships.
I bought my seat about ten years ago. It was when I made my first million and bought my first company. Back then I was looked on as intruder into their ivory world. Ten years later I am a respected member whose voice carries some weight. Being rich is good, but being one of the richest men in the world is better.
Hardwood was sued by a member after the slavery ruling was announced. The club denied one of its members the right to bring his slave inside to serve him. After a prolonged legal battle, the club lost. It would be comparable to telling a member he could not bring his wallet or phone. Since a slave is property and not human, it cannot be barred if it is owned by a member.
The service that a slave can provide while inside the club can be restricted. The club set extremely strict rules that boiled down to no sexual service. I cannot get a bj, have the slave drink my piss from the tap, have the slave touch my cock or ass, or breed or play with the slave in any "lude or lascivious manner."
My goal is, of course, to have these rules changed.
If a slave is my property, I should be able to use it anyway I wanted, any time, and anywhere.
The Executive Rules Committee has three members, and the Board of Directors has five members with only one member overlapping on both, Mr. Tiddleson. He is necessary on the convert list. I only need one other member of rules and two on the board so that's four members to get this done. Four of the oldest, most unmoving, conservative members are still alive.
Mr. Tiddleson:
I found the old man sitting in his leather wing back chair in the corner. I motioned for one of the room attendants to move another chair over and walked up and greeted him.
"Mr. Tiddleson, how are you doing tonight?" I said reaching out my hand.
He looked up and then stood up to shake my hand while glancing over at the slave kneeling at my side. After returning the greeting, he sat back down and picked up a glass of brandy, swirling it before sipping some of it into his mouth.
I motioned for david to hand me a cigar and kneel between the chairs.
Max, Mr. Tiddleson, looked up only briefly as david prepped and lit my cigar.
"Finely aged Cuban" I said as I took a toke.
"Would you like one?" I asked.
Max responded and david prepped another cigar and held it out in front of him until Max picked it up. Then david struck the lighter to life and held it while Max puffed the cigar to life.
We made small talk for about twenty minutes, and I saw Max looking around for an ashtray. I casually flicked my ashes into david's mouth a few times before Max finally asked if he could use the ashtray too. Nodding, Max held the cigar out and david stuck his tongue out onto which Max flicked the ash.
This went on for about an hour while we talked. Max got to the point where he would casually flick the ashes right into david's gaping mouth. And with all the brandy Max had been drinking, it wasn't long before he said he needed to get up to use the restroom.
"It's a shame you must go. You know david's mouth is available." I interjected.
"That's against the club rules and you know it." Max said while standing up.
"Have you ever pissed into a slave's mouth?" I asked.
He nodded.
"It's such a natural thing and slaves are so good at getting those last few drops out." I said with a grin.
Max looked down at david with a wicked grin. I could tell he was torn. But he hadn't given in yet.
"I could send it into the private restroom and make him wait on you." I said coyly.
"If it weren't against the rules, I would take you up on that" Max replied.
Now david is a very good-looking young jock. If it weren't a slave, I bet it would be a fine catch. Muscles, square jaw, and blue eyes made david a looker. And according to my scouting report, just the kind of slave Max liked to breed.
"Maybe a rule change is needed?" I spoke with the smoke drifting out of my mouth.
"Maybe...." Max replied.
I pointed to the restroom and david got up and disappeared behind the closing door.
"His cunt is almost as good as his mouth." I said very dryly.
Max looked at me and then the door. I knew I had him if he went into the restroom.
"Go ahead, no one needs to know." I was grinning ear to ear around my Cuban cigar.
Max looked around and shook his head, taking the cigar from his jaw. "I know what you are trying to do. I will not break the club rules. Its grounds for expulsion." Max replied.
"Maybe I could send him home with you if you were so inclined to see my point of view." I nodded to the door. "It's a great cock sucker."
"I have a trip coming up that will take me out of town for three days." Max eyed me.
Negotiations are open gentlemen.
"I might be able to spare him that long." I had him.
"So why don't you go retrieve your slave from the restroom, and we can talk about my trip after I'm done pissing." Max eyed the restroom door as he spoke.
"Are you sure you don't want to try out your personal valet slave for your trip." I was working Max hard.
"I'm sure I do, but I will not do it in the club until the rules change." Max was keeping up with me.
"But does that mean you are open to a rule change?" I asked.
"I have always been open to a rule change. If you had bothered to ask, I would have told you as much." Max was grinning now himself. "So, I do not feel it is a conflict of interest that you are loaning me that jock slave for my trip."
I stood up and when I entered the restroom david was kneeling next to the urinal with its mouth open. I snapped my fingers, and it stood, head bowed and followed me back into the room. Max passed me headed into the restroom and I turned and told david to go back in and thank Mr. Tiddleson for the privilege of serving him during his upcoming trip.
Now some of you might think this simply good manners, but in reality, I wanted to see the look on david's face when it realized I had traded it to Max. And I was also still hoping to get Max's cock in david inside the club as a final clinching to ensuring his support.
For the first item, david's face fell and his eyes flashed when the gravity of being traded for Max's favor hit its comprehension. The poor slave realized that I could still humiliate and degrade it even further, treating it like a whore in order to further my agenda.
As to the second, david did get a good look at Max's cock, but did not get it shoved into either of its holes. I was curious what Max was packing and while david couldn't tell me precisely, Max must have been hung like a horse. I might have to put david out of service for a few days after that trip.
Once Max had settled back in his chair and david had knelt, mouth open for ashes, I began to pick Max's brain to figure out who I should concentrate on next.
There is Mr. Niggard. From my scouting report, he does not own slaves but has considerable assets and has given substantial amounts of money to sponsor anti-slavery legislation. But in private, Mr. Niggard has been seen coming and leaving from a very private BDSM Club that caters to the wealthy and celebrity crowds.
The other option is Mr. Glenberry. His family was one of the oldest in Hardwood, having had a seat since the club opened. He did own slaves but never brought them to the club or even out in public. His personal life is a mystery as well. He is very private and does not throw parties in his home. However, being that private, it also means no one knows where he stands on slavery.
After pondering all this it occurred to me that since no one knew Mr. Glenberry's leanings, it might be possible to get the vote done without any further effort. But honestly, where's the fun in that?
Please direct any comments or ideas for this story to lthrcigarmstr@hotmail.com
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