SlicktillIdie

by Paul Broussard

For years, I had urges that I really didn’t understand. I’d masturbate to them every night. Then the guilt would come. It felt weird. It felt dirty.  It involved my Dad. No- not an incest thing here. I wasn’t in love with him. I loved him: a great deal, in fact. In fact, I rather deeply admired him. I had my rebellion fits. It was 1970, afterall. I was a normal, moody, 14-year-old asshole. We had our squabbles. The squabbles had intensified over the last year. 

PART1

I remember I was very excited to meet my Master for the first time. We had already shared some on-line conversations and I knew already he was very strict. I never met a Master as strict as him before, and that made me feel so eager and submissive.  We were going to meet outside a pub. I received very precise instructions about how our meeting was going to be.  The most important aspect was my presence, I had to present myself clean and perfectly shaven, my hair should be neatly combed and flat. I was also ordered to wear for my meeting a white shirt, a tie, grey flannels, black shoes and a blazer. As I didn’t have a blazer I was ordered to wear a V-neck sweater instead.  Among some of the rules I had to meet, I had to call my Master Sir at all times even in public and if I wanted to sit down, to talk, go to the toilet, etc. I couldn’t do it without permission. As it’s obvious I had to be on time, at 4 PM waiting for my Master outside the pub in my “default position”. The default position consisted on  me standing straight with my hands on the back and head down looking down the floor, not being allowed to see what’s happening around me, and not being allowed to see when my Master is approaching to meet me. Yes, this Master was very strict and also enjoyed to inflict on me some public humiliation.

It was summer, it was quite hot but I left my flat knowing that out there other boys were wearing casual and comfortable clothes in the heat while I couldn’t even loosen my tie a little bit, roll up my sleeves or take off my sweater.  It was twenty minutes walking to the pub. On my way I was very nervous not only because I was going to meet my Master for the first time and I didn’t even had seen a picture of him but also by the way I looked like.  By that time I wasn’t used to wear a tie in public and being so dressy in the middle of so many people dressed so casual.