Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules) - New Chapter!

Postby 190a » Tue Jul 16, 2013 7:31 am

We had this nerf game: three strikes and you are dead, and must play dead until told otherwise. So there I was, locked in the bathroom, a maverick on the floor. I had been hit twice; so I had this idea of running away to the bathroom; hoping Andrew would somehow get bored and watch TV or something; then I'd have a chance. But it was not to be.

Two minutes later, Andrew was knocking at the door.

"Give in, I got you and you know it".

"No way, I still got ammo".

"Just one bullet. I know it, because I've been picking up yours. Gotta love those black bullets of yours. See? The moment you open the door I shoot you, you are dead, you shoot me, suppose you get me, still I have 2 hits to go. I own you."

"So open the door, then."

"*#$?! you!"

Five minutes went by; tentatively I opened the door, a bullet came whizzing right away. I rushed to close it again, struggling with all my strength. Andrew was one year older than me so for a second I thought that would be the end of it, but somehow I prevailed. Andrew later claimed he was playing with me a little more. After locking the door again, I rested for a while.

"OK, are you giving in now?"

"Yeah", I said, seeing the futility of the whole thing and, deep down, hoping I'd become a prisoner.

"Then get that maverick gun where I can see it and open the door",

"I'm surrendering allright, but I want terms, in writing".

Just a final attempt; in fact I thought his only answer would be to demand for unconditional surrender, but he played with me. "OK, but don't try anything, I'll keep an eye on that door".

Not that I would try, I've never dreamt of being in that kind of situation. Five minutes later, I guess, he slipped a piece of paper and a pencil under the door. It read

Instrument of Surrender

Mark surrenders to Andrew and agrees to become his slave, hereby following the following rules:

1. The slave will do all Andrew's chores, do whatever Andrew tells him to do, do his breakfast, clean after him, etc and generally make Andrew's life sweet.

(Please sign or add your terms)


to be continued
Last edited by 190a on Thu Jul 18, 2013 9:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jul 16, 2013 7:59 am

So far I can't see that this has anything to do with TUGs.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Tue Jul 16, 2013 8:06 am

Jason Toddman wrote:So far I can't see that this has anything to do with TUGs.

You'll see, as that was my first post, I decided to stop there, to see if it would get approved or not before writing the whole thing

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jul 16, 2013 10:36 am

"I see" said the blind man.
Very well, proceed when ready.
Since you now have two posts under your belt, further posts from you will appear instantly now anyway. No more waiting for approvals.
Comments and feedback are another thing, but you probably already knew that. :quirk:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Tue Jul 16, 2013 1:26 pm

A slave? I had wondered what it felt like being a slave since I first heard about them. I think it was a mixture of pity, siding with the underdog and maybe something else I couldn't make sense of. In any case it sounded more fun that lying on the floor pretending to be dead. And it seemed fair to Andrew, he had owned me in a fair fight. So I just ticked his first rule and the added:

"2.Andrew will not ask the slave to do anything shameful or wrong or dangerous".

And then passed it to him. His answer came fast enough, with my own suggestion ticked in agreement, and something more

"3. Andrew will be able to tie up, gag and / or blindfold the slave at his pleasure".


I ticked it without giving it a second thought. Until now, all of our tug had only used imaginary ropes and chains, and I assumed he meant that again. Nevertheless, I still wasn't ready to give myself in, so I added something, just to keep on with the "negotiations"

"4. Andrew will not tie up the slave in any way that will put him in danger or ridicule, or be painful or just plain nasty."


The whole thing continued in this fashion; adding more and more rules

5. Andrew will tell the slave Mark what to wear. The slave won't be able to wear anything else, nor wash his clothes unless commanded to do so. Generally, the slave will wear a tee-shirt and shorts and go barefoot.
6. The slave will be allowed to use shoes or sandals if the ground it's too hot, or there could be something harmful, like glass or pointy rocks. The slave will always be allowed to cover his sensitive parts like wearing slips.

7. Andrew will tell the slave Mark what to eat. Generally the slave will only eat dry cereals and water.
8. The slave will not be asked to eat anything poisonous or dangerous or gross; and will be allowed to eat enough as not to go hungry.

9. Andrew will mark the slave's skin to show his ownership.
10. The slave will not be fire-branded or tattooed or marked with anything that hurts or it's nasty.

11. The slave will sleep in the basement, on the ground, tied up and locked.
12. The slave will be allowed to use a mattress and sheets.

13. The slave will address Andrew as master.
14. Or as "Andrew", specially if there are people around who aren't playing the game, but always with deep respect.



I thought I've had enough of it now and called to an end of the bargaining.

"OK Andrew, I am ready to surrender, what do you want me to do?"

"Good. First write down "I Mark, surrender to Andrew to be your slave" and sign it."

I promptly complied. "Done, what now, master?"

"You are not yet a slave. Call me Andrew until I enslave you, OK?"

"OK Andrew"

"Great. Now unload your gun and place it where I can see it when the door is open, but as far from you as you can. If I see something fishy I'll shoot first and ask questions later, understood?"

"Understood Andrew. Please don't shoot me, I don't want to die" I said with feigned fear.

"You won't if you do as I told you".

"Thanks Andrew. I'm placing the gun on the towel rack. I think you'll see it. I will be at the door, OK?

"OK, now do it".

I took the towels out of the rack, as to make sure they won't obscure the view. Then I unloaded the gun and left it there; the bullet place vertically on the WC.

"Come on".

I was trembling with emotion; this was "it", I couldn't nor wanted to put it off any longer, completely fascinated let shivering with fear at the same time. I breathed, caressed the lock, and then I opened the door to my bondage, in more senses than one.

Andrew was there, a safe six feet from me, his gun pointing at my head.

"Hands up and kneel down". I did as told, adding "I surrender".

"Good, now be a good boy as stay still as I tie you up". Then I saw him taking a coil of rope out of his pocket and a rush of excitement run through me as I understood I was to be tied up for real.

Andrew walked slowly to me, smiling at every step; then grabbed my hands and made me place them behind my back. He then proceed to tied them up quite securely; at least that was securely enough for my skills.

"Now stand". He then led me to the room we were sharing. Just four hours ago I had arrived to my friend's for a week of summer fun, and had still all my things unpacked; not that I had any intention of unpacking them except as on in "as needed" basis. "See, I am going to enslave you right now; do you want it easy or the hard way?"

"Hard, oh, uh, Easy, I mean easy!"

"Good. I am untying you for now, will make things easier. I hope you will abide by the terms of our agreement, but I'll have my gun ready, and remember you are down to one life."

"I'll be good, I promise". He then made kneel again and untied me, giving two steps back right away".

"Andrew, you've done this before, haven't you?"

"Sorta. Now strip to your undies. I'll be giving your slave clothes after I make you my slave, alright?"

"Alrighty. Shoes too?"

"Of course, and socks too. And be quick about it, and if you want to keep on breathing don't stand up."

As soon as I was finished with it, Andrew made me kneel and bound me again, hand and foot this time, though not as tight. "Andrew, your days as a free boy are over. From now on, until you die or the week is over you will be my slave, and I will be your master." He then took a lipstick, one souvenir from one of his father's 'special friends' and painted a thick red collar over my neck. "Andrew, you are now my slave. You can call me master".

"Yes master"

"Good"

"Now what?"

Right then we heard the garage gate; Andrew's dad was back, probably with some conquest, and I thought it would be the end of our game. Never I had been as wrong as then…


//////

Please note:
  1. This is my first attempt at a TUG story. (And I hope it fits as a TUG story, just "came to me" yesterday after reading a few stories on this forum.)
  2. My first language is not English, so if you see something wrong and would like to be made right please tell me exactly what's wrong and/or how to fix it.
  3. Try to enjoy it
Thank you.
Last edited by 190a on Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:01 am, edited 2 times in total.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jul 16, 2013 1:50 pm

Getting better and more interesting.
And if English is not your primary language then I can assure you that it does not show. In fact the story is better written than many I've seen here and definitely shows promise.
Definitely please continue. :D
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Jack Roper » Tue Jul 16, 2013 2:18 pm

Very good beginning 190a. I like the pace of your writing, not hurried but very thoughtful.

And not running all the sentences together makes it very easy to read.

Thanks; and please do continue.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby xtc » Tue Jul 16, 2013 2:43 pm

I must agree with Jason and Jack. Welcome to the league of TUGs writers.

Sorry, but the Typo Monster strikes at the most embarrassing moments:
"Good. First write down "I Mark, surrender to Andrew to be your slave" and sing it." Unless his voice is very good, wouldn't that count as cruel and unusual punishment (or at least as far as the Master is concerned)?

Write on!
Xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Jason Toddman » Tue Jul 16, 2013 2:50 pm

xtc wrote:I must agree with Jason and Jack. Welcome to the league of TUGs writers.

Sorry, but the Typo Monster strikes at the most embarrassing moments:
"Good. First write down "I Mark, surrender to Andrew to be your slave" and sing it." Unless his voice is very good, wouldn't that count as cruel and unusual punishment (or at least as far as the Master is concerned)?

Write on!
Xtc

Yes, I'd wondered about that myself but took it literally.
It didn't even occur to me you probably meant sign it! :oops:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:00 am

Jason Toddman wrote:
xtc wrote:I must agree with Jason and Jack. Welcome to the league of TUGs writers.

Sorry, but the Typo Monster strikes at the most embarrassing moments:
"Good. First write down "I Mark, surrender to Andrew to be your slave" and sing it." Unless his voice is very good, wouldn't that count as cruel and unusual punishment (or at least as far as the Master is concerned)?

Write on!
Xtc

Yes, I'd wondered about that myself but took it literally.
It didn't even occur to me you probably meant sign it! :oops:


Well that's an idea :), but I'll let somebody else take it. And thank you Jason.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Wed Jul 17, 2013 4:32 am

//
// Thank you for the encouragement; all of you. I'm aware the story it's a bit slow, but that's how I like it... Or need it; somehow this story is not letting me sleep until I took it out of my head and this story wants to be slow.
//

Andrew untied my wrists and dashed off to see to his father, giving me the time I needed to untie my feet and put my clothes back, adding a bandana on my neck and shod myself. I then cleared the mess we had made; mostly not to have to answer to any embarrassing questions. As I finished with the towels and the nerf gun, I climbed down the stairs to greet Andrew's dad and look as innocent as I could.

They were arguing; not shouting or making any scene, but clearly audible from the stairs. Andrew's dad words were cold enough to bring me back memories of a mafia don; you know, that sort of low pitched, strong and confident tone which still manages to get a menacing undertone. Andrew's words just felt sad with a touch of fear.

"Anyway, Andrew, I'll be back in a week."
"But dad…"
"But dad? Andrew, you sound like a sissy."
"Never mind."
"No, finish what you were to say, would you?"
"Just that by then I have to be back at mom's."
"Very well, you like your mother; don't you?"

Silence. I appeared then at the door, and decided to lend him a hand, diverting his father attention towards me.

"Good morning sir. Sorry not to meet you at the door, I was in the bathroom."
Surprisingly, his voice became honey "Good morning er… Mark? Do you think you are both old enough to care for yourselves, don't you?"
What's the only answer a young teen can give to that question? "Yes, we'll be OK."
"See Andrew?, that's the spirit!"

My face turned red for shame; his father had just fooled me and I just thought out an excuse to extricate myself out of the mess I had fallen into.

"Oh, Andrew, may I play with my PSP?"
"Alright" He wanted me off too, but didn't sound like angry.

I went by the pool, psp in hand, but even then, I could pick up more words than I had wished for:

"… when mom phones?"
"Just forward it to my iPhone, if she really feels like talking, but she won't, she won't have a word with me."

Andrew's parents were divorcing. I knew that; it was still two weeks until they were to meet in court for the last time. I felt sorry for his mother; she was then living in a motel, waiting to "get something better".

"anyway […] going now…"
"dad can [...] tomorrow?"
"[…] remember to clean the pool every day […] those are $200 for pizzas and stuff"
"[…]" Andrew's voice came too quiet.
"[…] don't care just clear the kitchen; I'll be selling the house, gotta pay some lawyers."

Five minutes later I saw Andrew's father driving away in something that looked like a Delorean; a blond girl on the passenger seat. I guess she'd be waiting in the garage all the time. What was he pretending? Everybody knew; she wasn't the first and won't be the last.

Anyway, I went back to the house, fearing Andrew would feel thrashed. I found him with a fork on his hand, four tiny dots of blood on his left arm which I pretended not seeing.

"Andrew, are you alright?" My voice came uneasy; what was I supposed to say?
"Yes, thank you. Can you, can I play with your PSP?"
"Sure."

He start playing right away, slowly walking to the family room as I followed. He sat on an armchair, while I stood, pretending to be waiting; then he bursted in tears. I froze.

"Sorry Mark".
"It's OK, Andrew".
"He just doesn't love me. He has never… I thought I have grown out of it."
"It's meant to hurt. Why don't you phone home?"
"Mom?"
"Yes"
"No. It'll be over in a week. It's over now; my father's off for the whole week, then I'm back at home."
"Oh really?" I pretended not to know a word. "That's why he asked me about caring for myself?"
"Yep. I think he only has me for the week for his lawyers told him to."
"And then it's court."
"And I won't see him again."
"You want to see him?"
"No"
"Then all the better."
"Yeah"
"Are we to do something?"
"What about our little game, slave" Suddenly his face shined.
"OK, sorry master, for the clothes, just thought…"
"I'll tell you what to think. Now strip and kneel on the sofa; I'll be back in a minute."

He was back with two coils of rope. This time he tied a collar on my neck and linked it to my hands, bound again on my back. "That's for not asking permission, and I'm being a softie, Mark."
"Thank you master Andrew."
"Oh, drop the master thing, just Andrew."
"Thank you 'm-Andrew'."

He led be back to his room and untied my wrists again.

"Very well Mark; I'll be having all your stuff, alright?"
"Yes"
"So get your bag, unpack it and get your clothes on my cupboard; socks, undies and everything else. I already have your PSP, but want your games too; leave them on my bed."
"What about the…"
"Just leave it with the games. I'll see to them."

It took me a while to unpack as Andrew wanted everything folded neatly; even his own clothes. He even went as far as helping me to get everything perfect.

"Well done, Mark. You'll learn sometime. Anyway, I shall see to your clothes now. Let me check". He produced an old, green-gray t-shirt. The olympic rings couldn't really be figured out, but I could read the letters "Seoul 1988". It truly felt that old and had a few holes to match.

"I got that at the thrift store." Andrew said. "It'll suit you nicely.

In fact it was two or three sizes too large, falling down almost under my knees. He then gave me some grayish shorts that seemed to belong to a pajamas. "You won't be needing your undies, but you can change at the bathroom. Just don't lock yourself up or you'll regret it."

Now clad in my slave suit, he remade my lipstick collar and led me back to the family room. He sat on the sofa, and went back to his game, while I knelt on the carpet, by his side, out of my own volition.

"Hey, this is no fun", he told me after a while. "I'll get my xbox; you are playing with me"
Then I said something I regretted as soon as I uttered.
"I can beat you with one hand tied to my back" It was just a phrase, I promised, something I always said no matter what game, oh how stupid I felt."
And how big was his smile.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Thu Jul 18, 2013 2:51 am

///...continued

Andrew made me sit cross-legged and bound my legs, in a strange, to me, knee to ankle fashion. To be honest, I felt I could get out of these bonds with little struggle. He then took my left arm and placed it under my back; tied a coil of rope to its wrist and then proceeded to wrap my chest in rope. That neither worked, so he untied me and started again.

"OK, Mark, now please kneel. I think I know how to do it now".
"Well, you don't need to"
"But I want to. Do as I told you, or I'll see you'll regret it, OK?"
"OK".

As soon as I knelt he had my ankles bound twice and then took my left arm and bound it to my feet so that I scarcely move it. That done, he threw me a controller.

"Now, let's see if you can manage, slave."
"Come on, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry." I hated losing; and he knew it.
"Too late."

We spent the rest of the evening gaming or, I should say, he owning me up in every game he tried; except in two occasions. Yet fortunately he got bored of beating me up, and released me from my bonds.

"I'm getting hungry."
"Should I go to the kitchen."
"Nah, phone for a pizza, the number is in the fridge. I'll be in the pool; have to do some swimming, so you phone them and get the pizza. The money is on the table and the number is on the fridge. Just don't disturb me for anything, alright?"
"Yes".
"And don't dare you eat anything, and I don't mean just the pizza. I'll tell you when you can eat. Oh, if you are thirsty you can drink from the tap. That's all."

I stood ashamed when the pizza man came as none of the kids from this neighborhood would be clothed as me. Yeah, they went barefoot, but their tee would be almost always brand new, with some flashy brand. Instead I looked like I was living under a bridge.

"$10.50, please" He stared briefly to my neck "Oh, are you painting?"
"Why… er… yes?"
"Are you doing this for your old man?"
"Yeah"
"Well I know someone who might do it cheap."
"No sorry, it's complicated, he'll notice."
"Oh, you did something wrong", he smiled, "well, had to try."

For a second my mind was troubled with the idea that this man was trying to fool me into something fishy, so I just paid him, uttered a quick bye, and slammed the door closed.

"Ha! You're screwed it badly. Take it easy pal."

Andrew returned right then. "Well I'm hungry." I gestured to give him the box. "Not like that, serve me in the kitchen. I'm a gentleman, after all."
I felt sorry for him, realizing all this life of luxury was to end soon. He'll be back to his mother in a week, and even if their lawyer got her mother a nice deal, it won't ever be like this home. "Sorry, Andrew. I shall see to it. Just five minutes, OK?"

He ate the whole pizza with much gusto and grabbed two full glasses of sodas. I was starving then, probably more because of envy than real need; but if felt as bad as the real thing. "Now, clear the table and then go fetch yourself all the lettuce from the fridge and a bowl of "Corn fakes". --For us, "Corn fakes" meant any cheapo brand of cereal.

"There are no Corn fakes, on here".
"Oh go to the shop and buy some."
"Come on, Andrew, look how I am clothed"
"It's that or just lettuce."
"But I'm barefoot"
"There are flip-flops on the pool shed. Get those for the streets"
"Thank you"

Overall my trip to the shop wasn't as bad as I expected. Luckily there was no boy my age doing errands and I quickly explained to the cashier that we were cleaning up the house. Not that she asked or cared.

A bowl of cereal and lettuce later, Andrew called it a day, for me.

"OK Mark, you are sleeping in the shed tonight. I've made it comfy for you. Now, give me your hands, I don't want any escape attempts while I march you".
The whole thing was quite absurd considered I had just returned from my errand; but I complied. He got my wrists bound and then tethered my neck. As we march on through the yard the sun was about to set.

"Isn't a bit too soon to go to bed?, Andrew" I protested
"But you aren't going to bed, silly".

Then a simple word chilled my spine. "Hello". It was Lady Auntie, as Andrew called her who claimed to be older than our town, and had enough wrinkles to prove it. She was leaning out of her window, watching the evening go by.
"Hello milady", Andrew cheerfully replied, "nice sunset, isn't it?" My mouth widened as I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Who's that?"
"That's my friend Mark. Say hello to milady, Mark"
"He-hello"
"Oh, your friend is a little shy"
"Yes milady"
"Are you playing?"
"Oh, go along with your game then".

"Don't worry", Andrew told me as soon as she was out out sight, "she can hardly see a thing, and she'll forget about our meeting in 3, 2, 1…"

The shack was a 12 x 6 feet wooden structure, fitted with shelves for bathing suits and pool stuff, a small window that almost let no light in and a cramped shower stall. An air mattress was lying on the floor, a sheet neatly folded besides it.
"Take your shirt off, because you are going to lie down there and then I will tie you up for the night."
"OK" And then I sheepishly took my shirt off and dropped it to the ground.
"No, not like that, fold it neatly, this is the only shirt you'll be wearing this week, Mark. Can't you understand that?"
He was clearly upset and I wondered if he was mirroring his father. "Yes Andrew. Sorry."
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to… it's just a game"
"I know."
"Good."

After that he made me lean on my back and tied my wrists and ankles; then he covered me with the sheet.
"If it's too hot, just toss it aside."
"OK"
"Anyway, I'm leaving a list with the chores I want you to do. There's an alarm clock that will wake you up at five am. Use the time wisely because there's a lot you'll need to do, and I want all them done by my breakfast. There are more rules, but they are all written down for you, right?"
"Right. Er... how can I do anything tied up like that"
Andrew looked bewildered. He hadn't thought of that. "Oh… er… I will unbind you sometime later. I'm turning the shed's power off, and locking the whole thing, so the best you can do is relax. Alrgihty?
"Alright"
"Good night".

He did turn the power off and locked the door from the outside, leaving me in nearly complete darkness. For a few minutes I struggled with my bonds a little; but then what I could do next? This was just a game so I was not trying to force the door open, nor I could anything in the dark, even with my hands free. The shed was warm from all the summer sun and as sweat started to pearl on my skin I slowly faded away into a dream.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby Mister Mistoffelees » Thu Jul 18, 2013 4:46 am

You write well for someone not native to English. Only a stray preposition or two and an occasional verb out of order, but a very well-done effort.

And I get the feeling that this little game isn't going to be a game for much longer, especially as Andrew seems to be, as we say in this language, a chip off the old block...
Welcome to Snowden! Enter at your own risk...

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Thu Jul 18, 2013 1:35 pm

Mister Mistoffelees wrote:You write well for someone not native to English. Only a stray preposition or two and an occasional verb out of order, but a very well-done effort.

And I get the feeling that this little game isn't going to be a game for much longer, especially as Andrew seems to be, as we say in this language, a chip off the old block...


Thank you. And about your feeling, you could be right. Honestly, this story began in my mind with the Slave Rules bargaining and little else, and then I have let the story flow by itself, driven by the characters and, probably, my inner-most fears.

So I still don't know how this story would end, but yeah, that could happen.

Re: Instrument of Surrender (aka Slave Rules)

Postby 190a » Thu Jul 18, 2013 9:40 pm

Part 2: Tuesday

Section 2.1: Morning


I woke up at 4:45, 15 minutes before the alarm clock was set, fresh and wide awake. I'd fell asleep early enough, so even the weak dawn light that filtered through the window had been enough. I could smell I'd been sweating and then the next thing I noticed were my bound feet. My hands were free, nevertheless, so I quickly undid my bonds and rubbed my sore ankles.

I stood up, silent, still for a while. Power was still cut off in the shed and even with the door open it took a while for my eyes to get used to the low light. Then I spotted a pad sheet taped to the shelves: it read

Slave Chores.

Good Morning, Mark.

These are your chores. Please do them fast and quiet. You doNOT want to wake me up, or the neighbours.

1st. Clean your mess. Get everything neat in the shack. That includes folding the sheet and the air mattress neatly on the highest most shelf.
2nd. Clear the yard, pick up any trash, etc. Just don't mow the grass.
3rd. Go clean the kitchen and then made my breakfast. I'll be wanting a selection of cereals (Not Corn Fakes), chocolate milk, Brie cheese, jelly, peanut butter, and apple for it's healthy, a croissant or two (you'll get those at the convenience store, and yeah, you can wear you sissy flips-flops).
4th. Wake me up at 8:00 AM, I will be in the master bedroom. Fits me.
5th. I will be taking a shower, you will clean my mess and then you will serve me breakfast.

Rules
a) Don't take a shower or clean yourself in anyway.
b) Don't eat anything; you may drink from the tap.
c) Don't change your clothing.
d) Don't buy anything for yourself because you already have your Corn Fakes.
e) No swimming, no fuss, no playing.

You have been a very good slave until now, Mark. Keep it up. (There will be a surprise)


I began my chores by deflating the air mattress, then folded it along with the sheet. Easier said than done; at home I hardly if ever fold a shirt, it was still dark and I knew that for Andrew neat meant "granny-grade" perfection. It was 5:00 AM when I was done. I quickly put on my shirt, grabbed the chores list, and went straight to the yard.

I wasted another five minutes strolling around without seeing a thing, so I went to the basement for a torch. It did not occur to me I'd need a key to enter the house until I was before the basement hatch door; yet it was unlocked. I then realized Andrew had made another mistake with his plan; I could very well be a burglar. Nevertheless I knew how much he hated to be told their plans were wrong, so I quickly decided not to tell him a thing. I was 'just a slave', after all. Once on the basement, I got a torch and a bucket and got to work.

Yeah, it sucked to be myself. It was only a game, but the work was real. Even with the sun just barely over the horizon it was warm enough that I started to sweat, forcing me to cast my shirt off. When I finished with the yard it was 7:00 AM, and I felt like running out of time.

I had done such a great job until then that I started to fear for failure; just as an athlete in the olympics. Fitted my tee-shirt, I gather. Anyway, I clothed myself again, slip the flip-flops in and ran to the store. Yeah, I started to sweat in no time, but it was 15 minutes to go and then 15 minutes back home. Just barely enough to get his huge breakfast done.

This time I said nothing at the store; neither the cashier said anything beyond her sales script; but she smelled me, I'm sure, and she gave me a good stare. Yeah, it sucked to be me. Yet, on my way back, I remembered this was going to be Andrew's last good week; that he could end up homeless or worse. Yeah, maybe I was overflown with drama: call it exhaustion or hormones or just an excuse to keep on with an experience that fascinated me and made me mad at the same time; like I hated slavers but wanted to be "one with the slaves". And I suppose you can't be a slave without a master. And all things considering, Andrew wasn't bad, just playing his role. Or so I thought, then. Today I think he just needed to control me, while his life was crumbling down all around him.

Fast forward, I prepared his breakfast just in time; even added a bouquet of flowers to the kitchen table; fresh from the garden and filled a buillon bowl with candy, for a final touch. At 8:00 AM, Andrew was already taking his shower in the in-suite bathroom; so I took the opportunity to make his bed and gather his laundry. which was alreay neatly folded. I guess he couldn't help himself.

"Good Morning, Mark", he greeted me, clad in his father's bathrobe, his feet on snickers, all smelling of flowery cologne.
"Good Morning, Andrew. Did you sleep well, sir?"
"Yes. I see you slept soundly too." I had to concede he knew that, as I was too deeply sleep to wake up when he undid my bonds. "Please get the shower clean and neat while I clothe myself. Just a quick dash; I'm hungry."
That almost made me shout out; but I sheepishly kept on with my role. "Excellent, Andrew, your breakfast is ready."
"I'll see to that".

He made me serve his breakfast and then dispose of the leftovers. "Thank you, Mark, you may now eat your Corn Fakes. Just a bowl, don't be a gourmand, but I think you deserve a cup of yoghourt too."
"Thank you, master". I took great pleasure at my subtle pronunciation of the word master, but deep down I knew I was to obey to his wish.
"Oh, you don't need to say master, just Andrew or mAndrew, short for master Andrew, more informal, OK?"
"OK mAndrew."
"Great, When you are done go to the shed and put on one of my old speedos. I'll be waiting for you in the pool."

I finished my breakfast in no time, cleaned the mess and then did as mAndrew told me. We spent the rest of the morning playing in the pool, just like two regular boys of our age, with no reference to our little game, except I still call him by his new name. Yet this joy was not to last:

"Mark, I think I feel like tying you up to the stairs"

(tbc)