Hello again everyone. It's slave jim here. i want to thank you for your comments. Sir Dean does too, and he told me to make sure you all got his thanks. One of us tries to answer any of your comments that are sensible, but some of them, honestly, we both think are nuts. We won't answer those. Sir Dean decides who'll answer, so you may hear from him or from me, depending on what he things would be better. One thing Sir Dean and i talked about, after we looked at the last set of comments, was how much we had changed from the beginning of our relationship. What i'm writing about right now, is really the start, and we've been together for a long time . Let me say that, if Sir Dean did some of the things he did to me then, now, i'd be gone. i think if i did some of the things now, that i did , then, he would've thrown me out. We've grown. So if the stories make you shake your head, please feel free to ask if we still do something like what i write about. i'm trying, with Sir Dean's encouragement, to write about how we developed the relationship we have now. So, last time, i promised to tell you about our trip to San Francisco. It was my first trip, and about number 15 for Sir Dean. Sir Dean took care of all the arrangements: he has access to a travel planner through work, and she did most of the stuff that Sir Dean hates to do, but i woul d have been horrible doing since i didn't know San Francisco at all. We were going to be gone for two weeks, and roland was coming over to watch Ariel and Caliban. It was funny: the minute rolly came into the apartment and met them he said "Caliban is Sir Dean's cat, Ariel is your cat, jim." It didn't take him more than 5 minutes. i think he might be part cat .
So two nights before we left, Sir Dean milked me. He told me that even though my cage was plastic, he didn't want to have any trouble with getting through airline security, so he was going to take it off until we got to San Francisco. i would have to wear it the whole time we were there because, well, it was Folsom and... (if you've been, you know what i mean. If you haven't, nothing i can write will explain it well. "Bottom in a candy store" doesn't do it justice). Sir Dean though my tit pierce might cause problems, but i think there was a lesbian checker because she screened me, smiled and said "enjoy your trip Sir." i blushed: i'm not used to being called Sir. Sir Dean had gotten us tickets in business class: he said it was the ONLY way to fly. i had never flown in that class before. i felt guilty the whole time: Sir Dean should have been there, but economy would have been fine for me. Still, once we were settled in, Sir Dean threw a blanket over our laps and teased my cock all through the six hour flight. i saw the look on his face: he was planning to fuck me once we got to our hotel, and then lock me up. Whether i'd get to cum when we had sex was still in the air (that's a silly pun. Sorry. Sir Dean liked it though). On that trip, i learned that Sir Dean was used to luxury when he traveled. He doesn't spend a lot of money foolishly, and so when he travels, he splurges. We were staying at the Fairmont. When we told people, there and at home, the response was always along the lines of "Well, EXCUSE ME". We've traveled a lot since then: Sir Dean always picks great hotels. Anyway, his assistant had a car waiting for us when we got out of the airport, and soon we were at the hotel. After we had checked in, and gotten our bags, Sir Dean reached into his carry on, and pulled out eight neckties that i knew were in the back of the closet, but i never saw him wear. "One on each post of the bed boy," he said. "Tie them tight. Then get undressed." We only used two that first afternoon (we arrived at about four. Sir Dean told me we were meeting friends of his for dinner, but there was time for relaxation.). Sir Dean tied my wrists to the bedposts, and then he got undressed and climbed on top of me. i moved my head so that he could get to my neck, the way he always did. This time, i guess because we were on vacation, he "marked me." What i mean by that is, he scruffed me so hard, there was a mark on my neck. That one healed, but again, since we were away, he gave me new ones every few days. i have to say: the harder scruffing felt SO good. When i started moaning really, REALLY loud, he took one of the remaining four neckties and stuffed it in my mouth and then he tied it there with another one. Then he went back to that. He followed it with some really rough nipple torture: Sir Dean hadn't brought his clamps because of security, so he was using his fingers. i like his fingers more than the clamps, and i got more than i ever had that day. One lady friend of ours said that the first thing she does when she gets to her hotel room, is have sex. i asked Sir Dean if he was the same way and he laughed. He said "maybe now since i have you." i'm going to come back to that comment because, for many of you, how i felt about it may help you stop worrying that i'm being abused. So after he worked on my neck, and my nipples, and teased my cock so much that it was harder than i ever remember it being, Sir Dean ran his finger around my man pussy. i was so sensitive that i began to moan even louder. The neckties weren't helpful, and Sir Dean laughed. He told me he had never had a bottom as responsive as i was. i remembered a line we had read in one of my English classes: it was Edgar Allen Poe i think: "his heart is like a suspended lute which resonates when it is touched." If you substituted heart with ,nipple, that was how i felt. (Sir Dean just read that and wondered why i had never told him. i think because he was so busy fucking me that i didn't want to disturb him, and i forgot it until now). And he DID fuck me GOOD. i think he was aroused because there was a flight attendant who reminded him of me: at least that's what he told me. At one point he said he wanted to take the man to the bathroom, tie him up, bend him over and fuck him hard. Then he smiled and said "but I'll have better in a little while. I'll wait." i tried to be as responsive as i could that afternoon. i felt so spoiled with the trip, the business class seats, the hotel... everything. That's when something hit me: and please readers, keep this in mind. There was no question that i belonged to Sir Dean: 100%. BUT... in a way, Sir Dean belonged to me. After all, he could have taken someone else on the trip, or he could have taken two people: someone else and me, and during Folsom Week, he could have had sex with so many people, but he didn't. The only person he had sex with was me. i know that. i have a good sense of smell (comes with the job), and i would know. After that sex, i was crying a little from realizing that, and Sir Dean asked if he had hurt me. i told him "No Sir. i'm actually crying because i feel so good." (Sir Dean read that and made me stop. He kissed me for a long, long time and told me "you should have told me. I would have been very happy). So dinner that night was with two Masters and one "switch." Their names were Rocco, Mark (with a K, not like Sir Marc in NYC), and the switch, who's name was KC. KC had a slave: a guy who was bigger than me, hairier, with big brown eyes. i never met him, but i saw the photos. KC told me his pig was at home in his cage. Yes, he had locked his slave (i later found out his name was kevin), in an animal cage big enough for him. When Sir Dean saw the pictures, he saw that kevin was wearing a chain with a HUGE lock on it, almost the size of the lock you use at the gym. He wanted to know where KC had gotten it. The next day, he bought one. i wore it all through the Folsom festival. What can i say about Folsom that someone else hasn't said already? Sir Dean was disappointed: he kept on talking about how "things were," when he wasn't telling me to hold up my head like i was PROUD to be his slave (i was, but that chain was heavy). For part of the main day, he led me around on a leash, and for the whole day, he kept my hands restrained behind me. Many people wanted to know about "Bitchbull Enterprises." Sir Dean had washed one of the shirts so many times it was really too small. That was the one he made me wear. He patiently explained that i was the bitchbull, and what we had done, but that i had "retired." (i came out of retirement once or twice after that, and i'll tell you about that when we get to that part of the story. ). Sir Dean had caged me right after we had had sex that afternoon, and he didn't let me cum. The street fair was two days after that, so i was still okay. It was tougher when he played with my nipples through the shirt, and people watched and woofed. Something i noticed when we were there: most NY slaves were like roland: thinner, slighter, more blond. i didn't know if the guys i saw in San Francisco were slaves or bottoms, but there were many more of them (like kevin), who were big guys like me. i felt fortunate that Sir Dean had to be in NY for his job. If he liked dominating bigger guys, San Francisco was the place for him. So we had dinner with those three guys one more time. This time, Mark brought his bottom (he hadn't submitted yet, but Sir Dean told me he did later). His name was stan, and then Rocco brought giovanni: someone he had met in Little Italy. After the second dinner was over, and Sir Dean had tied me back down on the bed, he explained to me that, if i thought my life as a slave was hard, think of poor kevin. He also promised me (i didn't ask him, but it's one of the reasons i love Sir Dean so much), that he would NEVER call me a pig, either in private or in public. He told me i was "much too important to him," and then he asked me if i wanted him to take me from the top or behind. "it's up to you Sir, but i love seeing your face when you fuck me. And sometimes you kiss me too." He laughed. "I'm gonna kiss you in two places boy. First here, then your lips." Readers, i think he has never probed my ass with his tongue deeper than he did after our Folsom night. i didn't mind the taste of my own body when he shoved that tongue of his down my throat, and fucked me so hard. It had been a long, hot day, and i slept really really well. Sir Dean even woke up before me. We spent the rest of our time in San Francisco as tourists. Sir Dean had done all of the tourists sights more than once, but he wanted to see them again, through my eyes. We went everywhere. i think our days were about 10 hours long, every day. We always ended up on Castro Street, hanging out in one of the bars. Once, Sir Dean had so much to drink, he began to sing at the piano. i was on a leash that night, so i had to be there with him, but i can't sing. i really can't. It's been a while since we've been back, and Sir Dean and the friends he has out there told me that now, it's like a big suburban mall, which is sad. i really liked the Castro. And again, there were so many sub boys who looked just like me. i have to continue by telling you that the San Francisco trip was where Sir Dean introduced me to leather culture. It's hard for some people to understand that a Master/slave relationship doesn't always involve leather. Some of the ones we know do, and others don't. Ours does, occasionally, but i had never thought of it as part of our life. Still, before we left, Sir Dean stopped into a store with me, and ordered me a full leather outfit: a black short sleeved shirt with so many snaps i lost count, and a pair of leather pants that fit me snugly. When he put my arm band on with the outfit, and had me walk out of the store in it, well, i hope i don't make too many of you laugh, my first thought was "leather is very HOT," and i wasn't talking about sex stuff. i was sweating so much i DID feel like a pig. Sir Dean told me i'd get over it. He also told me that seeing me in leather made him want me even more. Before we got back to the hotel, he stopped at a shoe store and got me boots too, but those, he told me, i could wear a little bit every day. At the hotel, he wanted to roleplay: i was the captured leather boy, and he popped the snaps on my shirt, until my nipples were fully exposed. Then he chewed on them until i started to beg him to fuck me. i was SO HARD in my cage i wanted to beg him to take it off, but i knew not to do that. Sir Dean told me it could come off before we flew out, and not before. That's what he did. But that night, in my leather outfit, he fucked me even harder than he had been on the whole trip. i was lucky because, as we got closer to the time to leave, Sir Dean seemed to get less interested in sex . Actually, i found out that Sir Dean really doesn't like flying, and he was nervous. He took my cage off, and jerked me, but that was, i think, the first time he didn't fuck me before or after jerking me. We left for NY a few days after that. Sir Dean liked to take the night flight back to the East so he didn't lose too much of the day. i had to laugh because, we spent most of our first day back, sleeping. i dreamt a LOT about things in San Francisco. If we go back, i hope we can go to the wharf again. i know it's cheesy, i know it's touristy, but i loved it. All that water: the ships, the swimmers, the sun.
i have to stop writing about it . It's making me sad. i miss it.
So, like i said, it was in San Francisco that Sir Dean introduced me to leather, but i got my full treatment when we got home. It took a couple of weeks, but one day, when i texted Sir to tell him i was leaving to go home and make dinner, he texted back. "Screw dinner, boy. We're gonna order in tonight. And get in your leather. " i could feel the cage push back against my hard cock and i asked in a text "Are we going out Sir?" He answered. "No. I have a surprise for you. Don't forget to put on your new lock collar." So, i did what he told me, and put on the whole outfit. When Sir Dean came home, he looked at me and smiled. He winked and said "I'm closing the extra bedroom door. Give me 15 minutes, boy. Sit in the chair. Keep your hands behind your back. " i had no idea what he was doing. Then he came out. OH MY GOD. This was a side of Sir i had never seen. He had on his own leather pants: they were even snugger than mine, and you could see that his cock rested on his left (which figures, doesn't it: Sir Dean laughed when i wrote that). He had on a white shirt that was of some synthetic material (i thought: i later found out that it was very expensive leather too). He had a narrow black leather tie down the front of the shirt, and he had on a heavy leather jacket, a cap, and boots. He also had on the reflector sunglasses, and he was holding a crop. i lost my breath when i saw him. The next thing i saw was that his boots were dirty. "Sir, i can't sit here with that...." I got on my knees and crawled over to where he was standing. i began licking his boots. i had never done that before, but i had seen it in porn movies, and at Folsom. "GET THEM POLISHED BOY. DON'T MAKE ME PUNISH YOU FOR A BAD JOB." That only encouraged me to work harder. I spent a lot of time on them: about an hour. While I was doing it, i felt Sir Dean put a leash through that heavy collar, and he pulled my head up. i couldn't see his eyes, but his smile, with his white hair, was driving me nuts. "Who's my boy?" "i am Sir. " "That's right. What do boys do?" "Whatever their Masters say Sir?" "EXACTLY. And this Master wants you sucking his cock. NOW." "YES SIR." Sir Dean didn't have me blow him much more than the morning blowjobs, because he filled my ass so much and i was hoping for that later in the evening, but... Master wanted a blow job. i reached up to open the zipper, and he hit my hand with the crop. "BOY. You gotta learn to do it with your teeth. OPEN IT WITH YOUR FUCKABLE MOUTH." "Yes sir," i answered, and began to sweat. i didn't know if i could. Sir Dean was patient. It was the first time i had done that, and i got it open, and his cock out in front of me. I swallowed it down. i know i was doing a good job, because he moaned, and he teased me. He'd pull his cock out of my mouth and make me come after it, and then he'd shove all of it in my mouth. Finally, he began to push faster, and i tasted his cum for the first time. When he was done, he put the crop under my chin, and lifted my head up. Now, he took off the glasses, and i saw his eyes. They looked happy: they looked: there's no other word for it: serene. He smiled at me. "Know what i plan to do boy? One of these days, I plan to make this final and official." i was confused. i didn't know what that meant. "i'm sorry Sir. i thought it WAS final. i surrendered. i belong to you." He laughed. For us, yes, for the world, NO. " He smiled at me again. "I have to find the right ring, and the right day and every thing else, but boy, I'm gonna marry you." it's a cliche , but my heart skipped a beat. i wanted to say "thank you Sir, whatever you say, but i answered. "SIR? Do you mean that." He smiled. His answer was "Have I ever lied to you?" i've read enough novels where someone throws their arms around a Master's knees and hugs him, so i knew it was old school, but i did it. And i didn't cry just a little. i began to sob. Sir Dean let me. He let me cry myself out. Then he laughed. "I said we'd order in, but this is too big a night. Let's change. Put on something nice boy. Let's go see if we can eat at that fancy Italian place. The place that has the pasta you like." We did get in, and Sir Dean ordered the pasta for me. i didn't taste it. i didn't taste the prosecco, or the vegetables, or the dessert. i DID feel Sir Dean's finger poking inside my shirt around my navel, and i heard him telling me how hot our sex that night was gonna be (it was), but all i remembered was Sir saying "I'm gonna marry you." He did readers. Not right away, and there will be more stories before we get to the wedding. And stories after that if you want. But that's all i'm gonna write about for tonight. Sir Dean is giving me the "look" which means "wrap it up boy and get undressed." i'm ready too. i think tonight is the end of a third week.
Please let us know if you want me to continue the story readers. Be well.