Becoming His Slave

by Talon P. S.

  “Will you tell me Patronus?”

  “He took a hit and nearly died trying to protect me and one other, little more than a week ago.” Diesel stopped and turned into Paris. “Don’t think for one second your training is going to be casual. I for one was against letting you have this chance. The understanding of the relationship is far more important than your Masters degree. But here you are and from this moment on you will talk only when I tell you to. If you have a question its, Patronus may I, anything else and I’ll have you saying, mother may I, crawling on all fours your entire stay and fitted with electrode units. Defy that and you’re out the door all together.”

  Paris only looked at him; his heart pounding in his throat. He heard what Diesel said now he was just trying to decide if he meant it. He hadn’t purposely meant to be defiant or piss Diesel off. He just wasn’t use to being shut down completely, not like this. He’d known plenty of Doms and he’d managed to seduce every one of them bratting them from the bottom, some he even topped without ever playing their game.

  Diesel could see Paris was calculating and he wouldn’t stand for it and he took a hard step into the man so he was bearing in on him. Paris actually had an inch or two on him, but he wouldn’t think twice about putting the defiant man to the floor.

  Trenton was in there hurting, his body still healing from the gunshot wound to his gut. That Trenton was over exerting himself to get everything done angered him. Angered him, because it should have been him not Trenton that took the hit. And this one, this one was all over the map for subordination. Paris didn’t belong here and Diesel could see right away he was going to push the limits at every threshold. Something Trenton didn’t need right now. This wasn’t good for him either 'cause now he had to watch his own tempter to ensure he treated Paris with strict authority and punishments, not as an outlet for his own anguish.

  Paris gulped, his eyes darting away, dropping his gaze under Diesel’s. He could see the man wasn’t happy with him, but his control was kept tightly under wrap. It was clear to him now Diesel meant every damn word he just said. What was worse Paris felt his dick throb under the man’s control. “Apologies Patronus.” And Paris did the unthinkable in his own book and knelt down at Diesel’s feet before being told, dropping his head against Diesel’s leg.

  Diesel had to catch his breath there a moment. Damned if Paris was probably the most attractive man he’d taken notice to in a long time. Not only that but he radiated with lust, like you could fuck him for days and he’d take it, then turn around and beg for more. Damn he smelled good too. A mixture of some sport scented shower gel, musk and fuckin' green apples. Now he was submitting at his feet stirring his dick to take full notice.

  Glancing up at the ceiling, Diesel counted to ten, then back to the dreamy Imp at his feet. “Good boy. That’s the first thing you’ve done right since you got here. I hope for your sake you learn quick fallen angel.”

  “Patronus may I?” his head still bowed.

  Diesel took a deep breath, counting again, one— three— five— eight— ten— Hell he needed to remind himself this was all new for Paris. He would naturally have questions and lots of them and so long as Paris kept his place of submission he would need to allow room for them. “Yes—you may.”

  “It’s just—I don’t know how to dumb down.”

  Diesel let out a hard sigh and squatted down in front of Paris and lifted his chin with a finger to look at him. “There lies one of your problems. This isn’t about dumbing down; it’s about surrendering and trusting your Master to know what your needs are and to see your body there without letting the head get in the way of that. This knowing and granting is what brings pleasure to the Master as well as tending to your master’s needs.” And with the explanation, he gave Paris a light kiss on the forehead before standing again. “Let’s get moving. We have much to do before the Dominus’ guest arrives.”

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  Trenton woke with a start.

  “Whoa—relax bro it’s just me. Man you were really out of it.” Diesel was standing over him a hand quickly went to his shoulder to ease him back down.

  Trenton made a sideways glance at Diesel then rubbed at his eyes to clear his head and give himself a chance to actually wake up, but as he came to, his eyes were wandering about his office and was growing abruptly aware that it was dark. He glanced at his watch and bolted up with a start, “Fuck! Fambleush…”

  “Relax. I’ve already picked him up its all good.”

  “What?” Trenton fell back scrubbing a hand over his face a moment, “Where is he?”

  “He’s here. Figured we could all just ride together in a limo. William offered to stay on and drive.”

  Trenton took a deep breath and stretched then kicked the fuzzy throw blanket from his bare legs and sat up swinging his bare feet to the floor. His hand absently went to scratch at his scrotum a moment then stroked over the half erect shaft tucked snugly in his boxer briefs. He’d been dreaming of Katianna and that always got him hard. He brought a corner of the blanket up to his face and inhaled. After four years it had long since lost the scent of her body. But he liked to think it was still there. He’d kept it when he packed up her things after the attacked. He kept here at the office for those not so rare times when he found himself working too late to bother with the long drive home. Just something of hers to have close to him, that and he’d kept one of her pillows for his bed.

  Again he scrubbed at his face then combed through his hair with his fingers. His eyes darting across the room to Paris who was watching him, or perhaps more like watching his near naked body. “How’s he coming along?”

  “Stubborn, but we managed to put a dent in your pile of apps.”

  Trenton glanced at his watch again, “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

  “And you shouldn’t push yourself so much.”

  “But I’m so damn good at it.”

  “Yeah well the nights not over yet so get dressed. I’m starved.” Diesel grabbed the slacks hanging over the matching chair and tossed them to Trenton.

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  In the limo, the five brothers along with Fambleush sat comfortably in the seats. Diesel deliberately kept Paris under his command relieving Trenton from having to concern himself with it while he conducted business with Fambleush. Despite some public discomfort Paris settled on the floor board at Diesel’s feet as instructed. Not in the least relieved when he wasn’t the only one to do so as Marcena did the same at Fam’s feet. Rachel had purposely tried to sit next to Trenton and laid her hand on his leg letting her fingers strum over his thigh. Diesel saw right away the presumptuous touch irritated his brother. Trenton didn’t allow anyone to just help themselves to touch him. Neither of them ever did.

  “Take you hands off me Rachel. I did not give you permission to touch me.” Trenton scolded her finally.

  “Dominus I just want to return the pleasure you gave me when you were in Paris.” She submitted keeping her eyes down and obediently slid to kneel at his feet.

  “Enjoy. That is why I have brought her.” Fambleush waved his hand offering Rachel up as his.

  Trenton dismissed the offer, still feeling exhausted from the week of playing catch up. “I’m fine for now.”

  Fambleush shrugged, “Suite yourself, she is here for you till I return for the auction.”

  “What do you mean she is here till then?” Trenton was instantly annoyed at the suggestion, He was not expecting anyone other than the delivery of Marcena to his care.

  “I bring her to give to you as a gift for taking care of Marcena for me.”

  “Don’t even think that offering Rachel is an acceptable substitute for my fees, Fam.” Trenton was heated over such unfavorable suggestions, but managed to keep the bitter tone of his voice to a limit. He was already in a mood over Paris, but to think Fambleush would try to take advantage of him.

  “No. No. Mon ami, she is not. I already have a check for your fees to be paid in
full…” he pulled the slip of paper from a lapel pocket and held it out for him, “Rachel is my peace offering. I know my request comes at a bad time for you and that it is much to ask for Marcena’s training. Especially after what happened to you in Paris. Rachel is here to ease that frustration and she makes a good personal assistant too. She catches on quickly and can help in that aspect if you wish it.” He grinned then, hoping his explanation was acceptable.

  Rachel was good, she was probably still one of his best students, but truth be known Trenton didn’t desire her. He didn’t desire anyone but Kat. And the last thing he needed was a third Slave to watch over. Not with the amount of training Paris would need on top of the auction coming up. All lining up at a time when he felt Katianna was drawing close to his dreams.

  “You could use the assistance.” Diesel commented under his breath, trying to keep the suggestion between them so Trenton would not feel further pushed. He knew Trenton was under pressure now. Because of the shooting, they were in Paris a lot longer than they had planned and that put him behind further on the planning for the auction event. That and he needed a damn assistant.

  “I don’t even have time to train her to be an assistant.” He comment to Diesel then shifted his attention back to Fambleush, “Did you bring me what I asked for?”

  Fambleush smiled as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gift box and passed it over to Trenton.

  Trenton opened the velvet box finding the sterling pocket watch inside. He pressed the latch button on the side and the front locket door opened revealing the miniature image inside and he smiled, closing it back up.

  “We are good, mon ami?”

  “Oui.” Trenton looked back over at Fambleush, “My friend, we are good.”

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  Trenton had made advanced reservation at one of New York’s popular restaurants, unfortunately for his guest it was mainly French cuisine. It seemed rather unfair for them to come from France only to be served French food prepared American style, but it was one of the few restaurants that still had private rooms. Something that came in handy when you had a slave or in this case several slaves with you and wanted to talk openly and not have to worry about the walls having ears.

  “Maître Fambleush Boismier, you remember Headmaster Dane Masters, and then Headmaster Marcus Scriven, Master Harper Lancings and this is Master of Doms, Patronus Diesel Gentry.” Trenton introduced everyone along with their titles as they took their seats at their table. Of course Fambleush remembered them all, but this was more of a business meet rather than just socializing so titles were in order and were given as ceremony for the evening.

  While the girls took seats near the end of the table next to Fambleush, Trenton motioned Paris on his knees between him and Diesel.

  “Question Dominus?

  “You may.”

  “Will you expect me to eat on the floor as well?”

  “No, just for now.”

  “Now there is an idea.” Fambleush spoke up, “Dane you should have a restaurant for people like us. Already we have resorts, clubs—even spas, but why not a restaurant? Where they have footstools for my girls to sit on and small table benches that can be placed next to their masters? Even allow them to be disrobed.”

  “Certainly seems something to consider.” Dane was already intrigued with the idea.

  “You’ll have to have a special table for Trenton he plans to have his unicorn on top of the table.” Diesel chuckled; his eyes shifting to glance at his brother tuning everyone else out while he looked over the menu rubbing at his bottom lip thoughtfully with a finger.

  “It wouldn’t work.” Paris spoke up forgetting his command to remain silent—again. “You’d never get passed the health codes laws?”

  “You know about health codes?” Dane questioned him. He shouldn’t have encouraged the man to converse, but he did want to hear more details before his imagination got the better of him with the idea.

  Trenton turned to glare at Paris his chin propped on his fingers. “Aside from his lacking ability to take orders, Paris has a degree in Business with an extensive knowledge of its laws.”

  “I’ll take the bad for it, but if you’d permit him I’d like to hear more.” Dane hoped Trenton would ease up and permit it. He wasn’t entirely sure why Trenton seemed in such a foul mood and would talk to him in private once they got the chance, but he was still willing to push the topic right now since it was open.

  Trenton shot a disgruntled glance at Dane, but it tightened when he glanced back at Paris, “Pull up your chair and share your thoughts, but I’m warning you. When the topic is over you will go back to the floor and remain silent unless spoken directly to. Is it clear?”

  “Yes Dominus. Thank you Dominus.” Paris got to his feet and pulled his chair in and directed his response over to Dane. “Your primary set back will be hygiene vs. germ free serving surfaces. Salmonella is a threat in the kitchen as well as head hair, but now you’re talking STD and pubic hairs on the dining tables. You’ll never get around it or win it. But juxtapose you pass the health inspection for the sake of covering other issues to consider. You’re talking a very small focus group. Restaurants have a heavy fail rate as it is and when you narrow it down to a small target you don’t stand a chance to thrive.”

  “Well that’s where you open your target group a bit, don’t have to have a slave to come, you still want to provide private rooms for that, like an upstairs level that provides room for more private sections while the downstairs area would not be so. Instead have an atmosphere that helped feed the upstairs environment such as slaves as servants or servants that dressed as slaves—say from ancient Roman times. Who’s going to mind being poured wine from a bare breasted slave girl?”

  “Then you’ll require adult entertainment permits.”

  Dane produced a smug smile then, “That I already have, I can maintain up to five different establishments on my permit.”

  Paris didn’t have to work hard to get the image in his head. Beautiful bodies of men and woman dressed in Greek or Roman togas carrying plates of food, while gilded bodies poured wine from clay jugs. It was something he already had designed for one of the bathhouses down at the resort. But down there everything had already been previously cleared in the way of permits for operations and health issues and the slaves like any other staff member were not allowed to eat with the guests. There would never be any issues of slaves lying on top of dining tables.

  The conversation continued on as the food was brought. The men throwing out ideas while Paris laid down the laws and implications, by the time they had finished their meal Dane already had a complete business plan in his head and thanked Fambleush for the idea and thanked Paris for the wealth of knowledge.

  “Enough, you’ve been fed and you got to show off your know how. Time to return to your training. All this on again, off again is only going to make it harder on you to adjust.” Trenton finally stepped in to rein the man back in.

  “Perhaps we could just start new in the morning?” Paris was hoping for the reprieve.

  “No. We have already started and now you need to return to the floor.”

  “Yes Dominus.”

  “In fact I want you under the table at my feet.”

  Paris felt the heat in his face. It was bad enough to be ordered to go back to kneeling. No argument that what Trenton said was true it was hard to be the business man one minute then ordered to be silent and heel like a dog the next. Even if he wasn’t being spoken to as cruelly as he took the order as. But making it worse was to be a full grown man kneeling in front of all the other men. It was humiliating. But when he saw Trenton’s gaze darken, he moved swiftly under the table, if anything to avoid his glare.

  Paris fidgeted, quickly growing bored under the table as the conversation above him talked about the coming auction event. The one he was suppose to accompany Alan Pridmore and Blaine Davenport, their lead handler to. It was while having a meeting with them to go o
ver what qualities they would be looking for and preparations needed once they purchased the slaves and brought them down that got him in this trouble in the first place. He didn't for a million years think they were going to buy real slaves and as Blaine began to go over specific rules that should be put into place, Paris was at a loss for words. He couldn’t come up with a single proper response. That’s when they questioned him as to who he had been trained under and when he failed that pop quiz, his position as the director for the B&D season came into question immediately.

  Alan was prepared to fire him on the spot, but Paris headed him off at the pass by submitting a request to parole his termination and allow a window to fulfill the requirement. Now here he was sitting under the table feeling like an idiot. It seemed to qualify under epic-fail.

  Then again what do naughty little boys do when they’re under the table? He grinned to himself.

  Trenton was just explaining how they’d managed to get an additional 33 entries for Slaves to be auctioned off, bringing the total number up to 115, when he felt Paris’ hand running up his leg to frisk him.

  “Paris.” Trenton gave him a warning command, but then a moment later Diesel jumped in his seat.

  “Shit.” Diesel’s hands shooting under the table to push Paris’s away. Now he was annoyed and he glanced at Trenton, “You got any restraints on you?”

  Trenton shook his head. Diesel glanced around the table as one by one they all shook their heads, but then he saw the shackles on Marcena’s upper arms. And they would do just nicely.

  Diesel spoke to her in Spanish ordering her to remove them and pass them over. Once passed around, he got up from his chair reached down, gripped Paris by his feet and yanked him out, quickly flipped him over face down on the floor. Diesel dropped down pinning him before Paris had a chance to fight over it. He quickly gathered Paris’ wrists and held them behind his back while Trenton put the leather shackles around his wrists and clipped them together.

  “There. Now that takes care of that.” Diesel got up and pulled Paris up to his knees, “Now remember to keep quiet if you don’t it’ll be a gag next.”