GRAMMAR NOTES: *emphasis* or words I would otherwise italicize. {Jim's thoughts.} I capitalize Master, using the *God* rule. slave designations are in lower case even when beginning a sentence.
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Master Paul
byAlexis Rogers
27 March 1999
Jim sat at his dining room table in the loft on a rainy Saturday afternoon, fingering a length of smooth chain with a small padlock firmly fastened in one end. He did not have the key. In front of him on the table was a glass of white wine, a pen, and a pad of paper -- the only way he was allowed to communicate with Master Paul. It was well past the time for communication, but it did not make the task any easier.
Master,
It's been a long time since I've written to you, not only because you know how difficult this task is for me, but because I didn't have anything to say.
But now, maybe I do.
Since I left your service, Master, I've tried marriage to a woman, rebellion against all the rules I know, and various levels of relationships with professional colleagues, which didn't work any better than my time with you. I hold the chain you placed around my neck as I write to you, the lock forever fastened so that I can hold it but not wear it. I never thought I would want a collar around my neck again, but...
His name is Blair, and, Master, he may be everything I've been looking for in life; although I have no idea how to discover his feelings about me or the lifestyle I shared with you.
Master, he's a grad student -- an anthropologist -- and at least ten years my junior. I met him in a hospital emergency room where *he* came looking for *me*. I was having some bizarre medical problems and this kid, masquerading as a doctor, waltzed into the exam room and told me he had all the answers I needed, and if I were interested, I should come to his office at the University.
When the real doctor had no answers, I fought for internal control and went to see the kid. He had an unorganized, dusty, cluttered excuse for an office that had probably been better used as a broom closet, which almost made me turn and run. He was the personification of an American hippie, complete with long hair, earrings, and loud screaming noise he called music. I was torn between escaping this madness and my desperate need to know if he could really help me, so I stayed, watching him run through a gamut of approaches before finally losing my patience and slamming him into a wall, holding him by the throat.
Master, he was so beautiful in his power, almost glowing.
I'm taller, heavier and much better trained that this *child* but he didn't blink, flinch or back down. He just looked me in the eye and told me he was the only one who could help me. The arrogance, the audacity, the supreme confidence reminded me of you. I was mesmerized by his bright blue eyes and the power radiating from this lively bundle of energy.
His touch calmed me, centered me, then drove all the blood directly to my dick. I ran out, screaming at him, and almost got myself killed by a garbage truck. He saved my life -- literally. I gave myself to him. It took everything I had not to drop to my knees before him, but Master, I have no clue if this man understands the power he wields.
So I let him lead because he gave me peace, and a promise of a future.
We spent some time together and he proved himself invaluable, so I took a scary step, Master, I moved him into my professional world -- on the very day some major felon tried to take over the Cascade Police Department and *my* Blair.
*My* Blair proved himself to be the strong, resourceful, brilliant man I knew him to be. He never lost his cool, not even when the perp made it clear that his interest in *my* Blair was sexual. Blair handled himself like he was trained for this type of situation. I don't know anything about his real sexuality, yet -- he talks about girls a lot -- but I know from the reports of fellow officers that *my* Blair didn't flinch when the gun toting felon invaded his personal space and made his intentions clear.
Blair's actions made enough of an impression on my captain that Blair's credentials to ride along with me were approved very quickly. So now Blair is in my truck and in my job, in-between his many duties at the university. He wormed his way into my life so deeply that it's like he's always been there. Master, it was heaven and hell because I have him in my life but I'm afraid to approach him sexually and/or to kneel before him.
But it gets better and worse. A twist of fate has now put *my* Blair living in my home. Master, this could drive me crazy. He's so close and yet too far.
So what can *my* Blair offer me that you can't, Master?
Maybe he has the strength and the control so I can fight him, so I have to be forced to submit. Maybe you could have done that, too, but I tried to be the kind of slave you wanted me to be without wondering if there was another way. Or if I even needed something else. When Blair stormed into my life, he showed me the possibility of another path.
Master, I would watch you with Andrew. You were different with him than with your slaves, even one. When I pleasured you both, you were somehow different with Andrew. I guess it's because you love him. I thought I might like to have what you have with Andrew but I don't understand the feelings. I've tried, and failed.
Now, with Blair in my life 24/7, I need to know myself, what I need, and if I can actually have it.
Master, may I make arrangements for time with you? I need the kiss of your whip, the comforts of your hand, and the serenity of your compound. I need to clear my head and understand my heart before I can consider a future of any kind with Blair.
Respectfully,
four
Jim placed the pen on the letter, fondling the chain, wanting to feel it around his neck again.
"Jim. Yo, Jim. Earth to Jim. Come on, man, enough."
"Huh?" Jim asked, blinking his eyes.
"Zone, man. Deep one," Blair explained. "I thought I was going to have to slap you."
Shaking his head, Jim carefully placed the chain on his letter, wondering when he had moved the pen.
Wanna tell me about it?" Blair asked, settling onto the chair across the table. "You could start with the chain. Is it what I think it is?"
Reaching for his wine, Jim noticed it was now setting in front of Blair. Trying to stop his panic, Jim shoved his chair back and retreated to the window, staring out into the wet grayness.
"I, ah, it's -- ah, hell, just read the damn letter," he finally managed to get out, wondering if now was a good time to see if his sentinel abilities could make him vanish into thin air.
After a few minutes of dead silence, Blair ordered quietly, "Read it to me."
"What?" Jim turned and stared at Blair.
"Now!" Blair's voice was quiet, stern, and not to be disobeyed.
Walking stiffly to the table, Jim stood behind his chair and stared at his words on the paper. He needed a drink of his wine but Blair held the glass and made no move to offer it. Finally, Jim picked up the paper and forced himself to read the words as calmly as possible while his heart pounded.
"So who's Andrew?" Blair asked conversationally after Jim finished reading.
"Master's lover."
"And your role?"
"Master's fourth slave."
"Tell me about it."
Jim shook his head.
"That wasn't a request."
The words were simple and quiet, but touched the very essence of Jim's soul.
"Wine." Blair held out his empty glass.
Jim responded automatically as he took the glass and hurried to the kitchen, the idea of service now ingrained into his being.
After pouring Blair's wine, he held the bottle over a second glass but stopped before completing the task. There had been no permission given for him to have wine.
"Your movements are slow and awkward; a poor reflection on the man who trained you."
"No! Never that," Jim declared as he hastened to serve the wine, standing numbly behind Blair after placing the glass on the table.
"Remove your clothes and present yourself to me." Blair sipped his wine, then moved to the yellow chair in the living area, taking the chain and the glass with him.
After folding his sweats and placing them on the sofa, Jim knelt in front of Blair's chair, his legs spread as widely as possible, his hands behind his back, his eyes towards the floor.
"Master."
"I don't know yet. Right now, I want the story of Master Paul and slave four."
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