Tag: runaway slave

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“Thank you for returning him. When the report is filed, you shall receive your reward,” Master Torres says with a nod of his head.
“No, thank YOU Sir. The money is insignificant. I’m glad you got your boy back. Did he really run away? Didn’t seem to put much effort into it.”
“It’s more accurate to say he got out. He’s been mad at me a little cause I with-held his milking date cause he misbehaved and I found out. Also some jealousy issues. General frustration. And he’s not so good at communication. It happens sometimes with slaves. So they get out and go wandering around, only to realize an hour later that they are totally lost without their alpha there to guide them. There’s nowhere to go. Home is in my basement. Inevitably, as in this case, they wander toward the nearest area with lots of men and hopes someone knows what to do.”
“Ooohhh. Yeah it was pretty obvious what was going on once we realized no one was keeping an eye on him. It says ‘slave’ on his back too.”
“He often forgets its there,” Master Torres says with a soft chuckle.
“Well, in this case it helped.”
“Indeed. Thank you for calling the hotline, again. I’m now going to go take him home, feed the hungry welp, and punish the hell out of him for scaring me like that.”
“…Will he get milked?”
Master Torres tilts his head. “Maybe. Depends how he takes his whipping. Alright, boy let’s go.”
“Bye now, take care!”

I watch Master Torres escort his boy out, talking softly to him. I barely catch a glimpse of Master Torres kissing him softly on the cheek. I don’t think I was supposed to see that. I could tell he was really happy to get his boy back. I’ve heard horror stories of boys getting kidnapped. I’m glad I could be part of a happy ending. I set my duffel bag down and start to get ready for my work out. God, I wish I could afford to care for a slave one day! With this reward money, I’m even closer to the pricepoint. I feel invigorated. Life goals, life goals, man. 

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Text is fictional.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“You found him?” I repeat.
“Uh huh, just wandering around the streets, when I was out on my beer run,” Sully explains.
“Poor thing, he’s in shock,” Marcus adds.
“It’s pretty cold tonight.”
“He’s cute, can we keep him?” Marcus asks.
“Marcus, he’s not a puppy. Sully, did he say anything?”
“He just said that his Master got mad at him for ‘getting in the way’ and told him to take a long walk. He got lost. Then he clammed up, said he’s not allowed to speak to men without permission.”
I cup his chin, check his teeth. “He’s well cared for. Well-nourished. No scars or burns. Not neutered.”
Sully sips his beer. “Should we call the cops?”
“No, he’ll stay here tonight, where it’s warm and safe. If this slave meant so much to his Master, he would not have sent him out so late at night for something so unspecific. That’s how slaves get kidnapped on the black market. I’m going to make that Master fret all night about his boy.”
“Are you sure we can’t keep him? Sully never does the dishes around here.”
“Marcus!” I sigh. “No. He’s got a collar on. If we kept him, that’d be considered theft of property.”
“…But he looks so cute with that rope we found.”
“Why don’t you just get a puppy?” Sully wonders.
“I should, shouldn’t I?”
“Alright, it’s time we all went to bed.” I stand up.
“Can he sleep in my room?”
“He’ll sleep in the guest room, on that futon in there.”

“Thank you Sir, that’s kind of you.”
Everyone looks at the slave boy.
“It’s important that you’re well rested. An exhausted slave is useless.” I reply with a shrug. “Are you finished with your broth?”
“Yes sir.”
“Alright, bed time then. We’ll work this out in the morning.”

We tidied up the living room and trooped upstairs. After we put the boy down to bed, Marcus asked me again. “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”
I told him ‘no’ for the millionth time, and told him to go adopt a puppy.

If I had known that said Master had sent his boy outside to purposely “get kidnapped” by blackmarket slave traders in exchange for a huge pay-out, I would have never gotten involved. Because they would come looking for him, and we would put up the fight of our lives just so one slave could have a good home because, well, we grew attached him. He even got along well with our new puppy.

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Text is fictional.