Disclaimer: Anyone offended or legally prohibited from reading
stories about fictional gay men having sex together, including
sadomasochistic activities, should stop reading now.

Please note the copyright details at the end of this story. --

Svengali In Leather 
===================

I pulled into my parking lot, feeling tired but content.  It must
have been the fresh air, because a quick trip to the supermarket
is usually anything but refreshing. Still, walking up to my
apartment I sighed.  Another weekend wasted cruising the chat
rooms, and still no closer to finding a playmate, let alone an
interested Master.  And Murray hadn't been around at all this
weekend. 

After stashing the groceries, I tried to watch some TV, but it
bothered me, not having talked with Murray in so long.  I
couldn't concentrate on what I was watching, and realized I had
no interest in any of it.  I kept flashing back to the first and
only time I'd met Murray, for coffee in a diner halfway between
our towns.  He lived an hour away, but it seemed like next door
compared to most of the tops I'd run into online. 

Thing is, he was attractive, too.  Late 40's, Mediterranean, a
little paunchy in a way that really turned me on, tight dark
curls just starting to thin at the crown, thick black mustache
and perpetual stubble, and dark, dark brown eyes I knew I could
fall into.  And he was a top.  No, he was a Master.  Every word
came across like a command, a gentle command to relax, to explain
further, to listen closely.  Every word put me at ease and made
me realize I needed to serve him, that I needed to earn the right
to become his slave. 

That had been six months earlier, and then we'd gone our separate
ways.  I'd never been invited to his place.  I knew not to make a
nuisance out of myself, hoped he would accept me when he was
ready.  We spoke almost every day online, our conversations full
of innuendo and undertones of what I hoped would come.  And he
would remind me, subtly, to be patient, that our time would come
soon enough. 

But this weekend we never made contact.  I began to wonder if
perhaps I wasn't being aggressive enough, if perhaps I should beg
to be trained. Or maybe I had already been a nuisance, and a
slave should be quiet and let things run their course.  I kept
wondering what to write until I found I'd written a long email
expressing all I felt, and before I could reconsider I hit the
Send button.  And then I stripped naked, took a cold shower, and
went to bed, shivering, hoping I had done the right thing. Only
imagining myself kneeling, looking up at Murray, an approving
smile on his face and his warm, strong arms pulling me to him,
allowed me to finally drift off to sleep. 

Work came and went, and before I knew it I was pulling into the
parking lot again.  As I hit the first speedbump I noticed the
radio was really annoying me.  It was that opera tape again.  I
couldn't even remember which coworker had given it to me, but it
kept coming back like a bad penny.  I hate opera.  The last thing
I want to hear is guys with bull balls shrieking in Italian or
whatever it is.  I jabbed at the eject button as fast as I could.
Strange that it had taken me that long to notice. 

Murray was around that night, but couldn't chat long.  He thanked
me for the email, assured me everything was just fine, and that
he'd write back soon.  Then he signed off.  I was disappointed
because I'd hoped for a real heart-to-heart, but the warm glow
from just seeing his name on the screen was enough.  I didn't
need to chat anymore that night; I signed off, and listened to
music until it was time for bed. 

The week went by, with work and the usual errands occupying my
time.  On Wednesday I logged in after work as always, and checked
my email.  Murray had written back!  My heart pounding, I opened
his letter. 

"Neil,

"I was impressed that you could finally articulate your desires
to me. I've been waiting to hear it from you since the day we
met. 

"You have an independent streak in you which I admire, but if we
are to enter into the type of relationship you're looking for, we
must subvert it -- not destroy it, but refocus it into the kind
of initiative a slave needs to have.  I have the means to help
you do this. If you're sure this is what you want, and you're
ready to begin, we can start this weekend.  I expect you here by
7pm on Friday night. 

"I see the potential in you to be a fine slave, and so much more.
Thank you for your honesty and I hope to see you this weekend.
-M. 

"P.S.  Please dispose of this letter after you've taken down my
address.  Consider it a test of your aptitude."

He had included his address, which I punched into Yahoo and got a
map.  I deleted his message, printed the map, and took it to bed
with me, my hands shaking, my heart pounding, staring at the red
star in the center of the map which -- deep down, I knew --
represented my destiny.  I could not contain my joy!  I closed my
eyes to fantasize about what lay in store for me in less than 48
hours, and when I opened them it was morning. 

I coasted through the rest of the week, attending meetings and
pretending to take notes, sending memos via email, trying to keep
to myself.  On Friday morning I found myself alone in the
elevator with an acquaintance from another floor.  Halfway up he
turned to me and raised an eyebrow.  "Hey, Neil, I passed by you
on the road.  What were you singing?" he asked, smirking. "Mr.
Roboto?"

I blinked.  "I don't really sing in the car.  Must have just been
whatever was on the radio."

"Yeah, well, you were really getting into it," he said, and
chuckled.  We were at his floor.  "Seeya."

I tried to remember what I might have been singing along to in
the car.  I'd sung in high school, but was usually too
self-conscious to sing along with the radio when someone could
see or hear me.  But I knew it wasn't important.  It was my last
day of total freedom, and I couldn't be more excited. 

The day crawled by, and I daydreamed my way through the entire
afternoon.  I kept typing my fantasies into blank documents and
then deleting them, hoping no one would sneak into my cubicle
behind me as I adjusted my cock, stiff in my slacks. 

Finally it was time.  Not wanting to fight the traffic at the
elevators, I ran down the stairs, making it to my car by 5:02.  I
was back at my apartment in record time, undressed, changed into
a black tee shirt and tight jeans, made sure my overnight bag was
still in the trunk, and hit the road. 

The map I'd printed off of the Net was pretty crappy, but the
route seemed easy enough to follow, almost familiar.  Turning off
the main road, I realized I'd absentmindedly put the opera tape
in again, and ejected it savagely. 

I felt comfortable and contented as I drove through progressively
more rural areas.  The trees overhung the road, protected me, and
soon I knew I didn't need the map at all.  It seemed like only a
few moments until I was pulling into the driveway.  I had no
hesitation; I knew exactly where I was. 

Murray's house was a modest Cape, probably built in the early
Seventies.  It was back in the trees, hidden from the road by a
twist in the drive.  During the winter, you can probably make out
the cars on the road, I thought, but now, in late summer, it was
protected, enveloped. The breeze was warm, but comfortable.  I
felt very safe, very secure, as I pulled my duffel bag out of the
trunk and walked to the front door. 

The door was open, with a handwritten card taped to the screen
door: "Enter." I opened the door and walked into Murray's front
hall. But no sign of Murray. Just something lying in the middle
of the floor.  It was a black leather collar. 

I looked to my left.  There was a small table with a phone and a
small pile of papers. They were maps, identical to the one I had
printed from my web browser.  A chill blew through me, and I
wondered again if I knew Murray well enough to entrust him with
my.... well, myself.  But I had come this far, and deep down I
knew it wasn't important, that it was time to let go. 

I added my map to the pile, and left my duffel bag next to the
table.  Where it belongs, I thought, and grinned to myself.  This
was it, the defining moment.  My hands trembled as I bent to pick
up the collar.  Holding it in my hands, smelling the leather, I
examined the symbol of my submission, and without any further
hesitation, I wrapped it around my neck. 


i came to with a start, my fingers behind my neck fumbling to
latch the hasp of my collar.  i knew it had been off again -
another blackout.  And this time someone had dressed me in street
clothes.  Damn!  my heart pounding, i pulled the T-shirt off,
kicked the sneakers off, pulled the jeans off.  This one was
another long one, because my pubic hair had begun to grow back,
black and stubbly.  i prayed my Master wouldn't be too upset with
my state. 

i folded the jeans and put them on Master's duffel bag, as i
always did when we returned home. i folded the T-shirt and the
socks, and placed the sneakers next to the bag.  Then i headed to
the dungeon to atone for my blackout. 

The candle was already lit, the blanket already folded before it.
Master was expecting me.  i should know better, i thought - when
Master tells me my blackouts aren't important, i must trust Him.
But my mind cleared as i focused on the candle, and i felt its
familiar pull as any insect would.  i knelt down on the blanket,
clasped my hands together, gazed into the flame, and began the
chant. 

"Master, please accept me as Your slave.  i exist only to serve
You.  i exist only to please You.  i am now, always have been,
and always will be Your willing servant.  Master, please accept
me as Your slave...."

There was only the light, and my own voice.  The blackout didn't
matter.  i let it go. my stubble didn't matter.  If it displeased
Master, He would correct me as He saw fit. Only the light, and my
voice.  my mind filled with light and warmth even as it emptied
of my worries.  Only Master mattered, only Master.  i let my eyes
close even as i continued chanting, focusing on the words, making
them real. 

And then i was looking up into His eyes, His gloved finger
lifting my chin, His smile so bright it spilled from His eyes
into mine and shot down my spine.  The snap of His padlock at the
back of my neck brought me back to reality. 

"Welcome back, slave," He whispered.  "How do you feel?"

"Wonderful, Master," i said.  "How may i please You?"

"You're doing just fine, boy," He growled, and pulled me to Him.
i reached up and embraced His legs, drifting away on the cool
smoothness of His leather, breathing deep of His musk. Whatever
had happened didn't matter.  i was home. 

Master caressed my face with one glove.  "Sleep now, boy," He
whispered, and i did. 

Then i was looking up into Master's face, lying with my head in
His lap, His gloved hand stroking my head.  He was asking me to
remember things and i was telling him what they were. i
remembered driving a car and singing along with Master's tape,
but i was confused because i don't know how to drive a car.
"Remember, it's not important," whispered Master, and sure
enough, it wasn't.  i remembered speaking with Master via phone
with a printout in my hand, remembered typing my most private
feelings to Master.  He stroked my temples and whispered to me,
and slowly i let the memories go.  They weren't important. Master
kept whispering and i drifted away again into my safe place,
kneeling before my Master, waiting for His command.  i had never
known such contentment, but deep down i knew it would only
increase as i gave up more and more control. 

Later, when it was daylight again, i was sitting at Master's feet
at His table, my hands bound securely before me in Master's
leather cuffs, licking scraps of chicken from His fingers,
awaiting His commands and fetching His drinks, more food, and
equipment from the dungeon.  Finally He turned towards me and
pulled me to Him, pushing His flaccid cock into my mouth. i did
my best not to waste this chance to please Him, and i sucked and
licked as best i could, shuddering with pleasure as His cock
hardened in my mouth, entering my throat. 

Too soon, Master pushed back in His chair and tugged at my collar
gently, the signal to present myself to Him. I knelt facing Him,
my bound wrists relaxed in front of me, my back straight.  He
locked my gaze and smiled at me. 

"Sing Me a song," He said. 

"May i ask which song would most please You, Sir?"

"The one you've been practicing all week.  Sing it now."

i began singing the aria from Master's tape, from La Traviata.
Master did not let me look away from His gaze, and i felt His
power surging through me as i sang for Him.  i felt my face flush
as He smiled at me, but focused on the aria.  Finally i finished,
and smiled back at my Master. 

"Very nice, boy.  You've made progress this last week. You'll
continue to practice projecting your voice and I will continue to
make adjustments.  Sleep now, boy."

And then i was standing next to my Master, who was playing the
piano.  i was singing a song i didn't recognize, though i knew
the words.  It was dark out again.  my hands were free but i
couldn't move them from my sides.  The more i projected my voice,
the more pleasure i felt. Finally, as we reached the end of the
song, there was a long held note.  As i held this note i realized
i was climaxing.  Not daring to break the note and fearing i'd
come without permission, i closed my eyes and focused on my
voice, finishing the song without interruption.  Then i tried to
catch my breath, sure i was going to fall over. 

Master caught me, wrapping His strong arms around me as i began
to swoon.  i reached up and hugged Him back, and He kissed me,
biting my lower lip, offering me His tongue.  i felt as though
i'd never stopped coming. 

He pulled away, but caressed my cheek, whispering to me once
more.  "Only a short while longer, my boy," He said, and kissed
my chin.  "Soon there'll be no more blackouts, no more
distracting memories, only the life of service you want and need
so badly." I could feel Master's erection against my own.  "Are
you with me, slave?"

"Yes, Master," i whispered back.  i knew, deep down, that
perfecting my voice would allow Master to take control of me
forever, though i would never ask why.  "i'll go with You
wherever You take me, Master. i love You, Master."

"Good boy," He said, and pushed me to my knees.  i didn't need to
make it hard this time.  It was already there.  i let Master's
cock fill my throat and moved just as He had trained me.  i
sucked His cock in and kissed His head and balls, and ate Him
greedily.  Finally He moaned, pushed all the way into my throat,
and released His love into me, His shaft throbbing in my mouth.
He would not let me taste so much as a drop; i only felt Him.
With one last shudder He withdrew. i begged for the last drop,
and He deposited it on my tongue with a grunt. 

"Now clean up the mess you made and get your ass downstairs," He
said sternly, and slapped me on the ass before heading into the
dungeon.  i saw i had stained the carpet during my performance,
and hurried to clean it up. 

Master trained me hard that night, flogging my ass and back until
my cries for more came through tears, stretching my ass out a
little more (i thought) than He had last time, putting me to
sleep and awakening me many times, helping me to remember what i
needed to remember and let go of what i didn't.  He shaved my
body clean and took me upstairs to His bedroom. 

"Time for bed," He said, and i laid in my spot on the floor,
ready to sleep on his order. 

"No, slave, tonight you're going to do something different."
Master finished undressing, and motioned for me to join Him in
His bed. 

"Thank you, Master!  Thank you very much!" i sat in bed next to
Him.  i had never slept in a bed before, and wasn't sure what to
do next. 

Master had other ideas.  He reached behind me, i heard a jingle,
and suddenly he was taking off my collar. 


I couldn't believe it. I had just walked into the house and
suddenly I was naked, in bed, next to Murray, who was removing
the collar I'd just put on. 

"How do you feel?" Murray asked softly. 

"Fine, I... um..." I noticed my chest and pubic hair had been
shaved. 

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Dropping my duffel bag off in the hallway and putting on
that..." I pointed to the collar but I began to realize what was
happening.  "This isn't the first time I've been here."

"No, more like the 20th."

"You've been training me to be your slave.  Using some kind of
mind control or hypnotic trance."

"Sure looks that way.  Let me ask you again: How do you feel?" 
My naked cock was rising as I grasped the situation.  I had
gotten my wish, I'd had it all along, and I never knew it. My
Master was naked, next to me, in his bed, in his house, and
treating me like it was an everyday thing. 

What could I say? 

"I must be the luckiest boy in the world... Sir."

"I'm glad to hear that.  And that's what you say every week,
Neil.  Save the Sir stuff for later; you've been calling me Sir
and Master all weekend."

Now I noticed his cock was rising too. "So I won't..."

"No, you won't remember this at all when you get home tomorrow.
The time will come, much sooner than you think, when you will
remember everything.  But when you do, your memories of life as
Neil will be as if you had read them somewhere, part of someone
else's life story.  Your own memories will be that of a slave....
as though you had always been a slave."

My cock was rock-hard now.  "Did you do this to me too?" I
pointed. 

"No," he laughed, "that's all you."

"Would you mind if I..." I pointed again. 

"When I'm ready.  You need to accept that once we've completed
this process, it will always be when I'm ready, whether it's my
pleasure or yours."

"That's so hot," I murmured, unable to take my eyes off his cock. 

"That's what you always say," said Murray.  "All right, go
ahead."

I no sooner had his fat cock head in my mouth than I felt his
hand caress my cheek and the words, "Sleep now, boy."


i awoke when the sun came through the window, still by my
Master's side.  He'd put the collar back on me.  This blackout
didn't bother me, because i knew i was safe in my Master's house,
in my Master's bed. i had no time to think about it, though; it
was 6:59 and i needed to awaken Master at 7.  i leaned over,
careful not to make a sound, and took Him into my mouth....  
Later, much later, my Master brought me to the front hall again,
and had me put on some clothes He had piled on top of a duffel
bag and a pair of black sneakers.  i assumed He was taking me
somewhere, but then he put his hands on my shoulders and stared
at me. 

"You're turning out to be so much more than I had hoped for. Just
hang on a little longer, boy, and there'll be no more of these
blackouts, I promise."

"Does this mean i'm leaving now, Master?"

"Don't question it, my slave.  Let it all happen.  I'll see you
sooner than you think."

"Thank you, Master."

And He kissed me, hard, and before i knew what was happening i
heard the familiar jingle, the click, the leather sliding from my
neck... 

I pulled into my parking lot, feeling tired but content.  It must
have been the fresh air, because a quick trip to the supermarket
is usually anything but refreshing. Still, walking up to my
apartment I sighed.  Another weekend wasted cruising the chat
rooms, and still no closer to finding a playmate, let alone an
interested Master.  And Murray hadn't been around at all this
weekend. 

I knew I had to write him an email, take a chance, let him know
what I had been dreaming about.  I had been free long enough.  






--
Copyright 1999 raindog (lnghrbear@yahoo.com) 
Philosophy: the story is free but if it makes you money I'll want
a cut. Permission to redistribute freely is granted EXCEPT TO:
- printed (hardcopy) media of any kind;
- online services charging fees of any kind to view this story; 
- online services using any adult verification service;
- anyone modifying the story (including but not limited to adding 
  advertising, but translation into HTML or repaginating is 
  okay); 
- anyone removing or altering the text of this copyright notice;
- anyone who would claim automatic ownership of or a different   
  license to this story;
- anyone redistributing the story in violation of applicable
  laws. 

Online services include but are not limited to web sites,
bulletin board services, teletext services, and FTP sites.
Write to lnghrbear@yahoo.com for permission if your situation
falls into the above categories.
All other rights reserved.