Nicholas's Story

©2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.

.oOo.

After a few more months, Fred told me we were having a couple for dinner, that I should make something nice. In public, we were still putting on the pretense of being a happy pair. I cooked a delicious dinner and decorated the table with live flowers and fine linens. Fred and I dressed semi-formally. When Mr. and Mrs. Klein arrived, I offered them cocktails and we made small talk. They were about the same age as Fred, sophisticated yet easy-going. Dinner was a hit. But after the meal, Fred excused himself and closed the den door behind him. I thought that was an awkward thing for the host to do, and I tried to be nice to our guests. I made some excuse about his not feeling himself lately.

"Don't worry, Son," Mr. Klein explained. "We asked to to have some time alone with you."

"Yes," Mrs. Klein added. "We want to get to know you better. Come let's sit on the couch in the living room. Please tell us more about yourself."

They began asking me questions about the types of activities I enjoyed. I described the parties Fred and I put on, the intriguing guests we'd entertained. I spoke of our cruises. I mentioned how I enjoyed decorating our home and gardening. The Kleins kept smiling and nodding. Then they began to grill me with awkward questions. I found myself admitting to them some of the seamier eras of my life. I told them how Fred had taken me off the streets by paying off Billy my pimp. And how Billy had purchased my ass from Master Johnson who had bought me from Daddy. I told them how much I loved Daddy and how I thought he loved me. Mrs. Klein put her arm around my shoulders sympathetically. I found my face pressed into her breast. Then I felt Mr. Klein's hand on my crotch. I explained how Daddy wasn't really my Daddy, that he had bought me from Father. When I began relating about Father's women, the Kleins took special interest. They asked me in detail what I did when I accompanied a mommy as she pleasured some man. Soon the Kleins were taking turns french kissing my mouth. And then they began disrobing me in tandem. It was weird but they did it so tenderly and gently, I just yielded to them. I didn't feel I owed Fred any loyalty. When they had me standing between them totally naked, Mr. Klein began probing my asshole with his tongue while Mrs. was blowing my cock. Logically it was totally absurd, but it felt so good, so right.

"Come, Son," Mr. Klein said, "take us to your bedroom." I hesitated.

"It's OK, Son," assured Mrs. Klein. "Fred won't mind."

They each took one of my hands and I led them naked to the bed where I had once found love with Fred. In my mind, I kept thinking, "They called me Son. Just like Daddy used to." Once we were in the bedroom, the Kleins took their clothes off, as they both continued to kiss my mouth and fondle my cock 'til it was erect and throbbing. Mrs. lay down on the bed and said softly, "Fuck me, Son." Again I hesitated and looked at Mr.

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, please fuck my wife. We would both like that very much." OK, the husband had now told me he wished to cuckolded. Mrs. lay there on the bed, her legs spread wide apart and her knees raised. I stared at her and now I had a new hesitation. I had never fucked a cunt in my life.

As I lay down on top of her, my inexperience soon became evident to them as well. "That's all right, Son," she said. "I'll help you. There's a first time for everything." She did help me and soon I was pumping her pussy full of my cockjuice while both she and her husband were screaming.

After I pulled out, Mrs. instructed me to lick the cum out of her the way I did when I was a little boy. I obeyed. As I slurped and swallowed my own jizz, I found myself mumbling the word "Mommy," like I did as a kid. I pulled back and now I saw Mr. had a raging hardon. I climbed off his wife and he then plowed her. Soon they were screaming again. When he finished, once more they asked me to felch her. As I did this time, Mrs. caressed my head with her maternal hands while Mr. began sucking my cock. I backed off her again and smiled at her, with her husband's cum leaking off my lips. Just then, I felt Mr. Klein's hands spreading my ass cheeks. He was already hard again and was preparing to fuck my ass. I rested my head between Mrs. Klein's warm breasts and steadied myself with my elbows on either side of her pelvis. Soon her husband was pounding away at my manhole. With every thrust, I could feel his balls knock against my buttocks. He let loose a series of cum shots deep into my butt.

"So, what do you think of him?" It was Fred's voice. He was standing at the bedroom door. How long had he been there? All three of us turned our faces to Fred without changing position.

The two Kleins began talking at once, interrupting and finishing each other's sentences. "Oh, Nicky is a marvelous boy. Just what we were hoping for. He is perfect in so many ways. He fucks so well, both giving and taking." Then Mr. Klein laughed, "Well, I haven't had a chance to take him yet, but there'll be plenty of time for that." Mrs. Klein then remarked what a delicious meal I had prepared and how neat the house was. "Frankly, Fred, we don't know why you would want to part with such a wonderful young man."

"Well, business is business. So then, we have a deal?"

Mr. Klein stood up, picked up his jacket and took out his checkbook. He wrote the check and handed it to Fred. "That's the amount we agreed on."

"Yes, but you can't have him until the check clears."

"Of course, we understand." Mr. Klein turned to me and smiled. My head was still resting on his wife's breast and my ass was still dripping his cum. "We'll come back for you in a week, Nicky."

So that was it. I'd been sold again. "'Til death do us part" apparently meant "'Til Fred gets a better offer." But Fred owned me for seven more days and he fully intended to get as much from my ass as he could in that time. He fucked me two or three times a day, and each evening, brought in some young stud to fuck in front of me, and then told the boy to fuck my ass. One night, Fred brought home two brothers so one could be fucking me while Fred fucked the other. They traded off several times.

On the seventh day, while I was getting dressed after Fred had given me a morning fuck, I heard the bell ring and ran to open the door. I had no idea what the Kleins wanted to do with me, but I couldn't wait to get out of Fred's house. But it wasn't the Kleins at the door. It was Zach. "Oh, it's you again." He was wearing a tight faded wife beater with the words "Eat your heart out" on it, tight jeans with big holes in both knees and one on his rump that revealed the absence of underwear, and worn sandals.

He pushed me aside and skipped up the steps to the bedroom. "You better come, too, Nicky. You know Fred will want you there." He was right. Fred still owned my ass and so I dragged it along.

In the bedroom, Fred opened my closet, that is, the closet with my clothes. Well, of course they weren't my clothes any more than my ass was mine. I had no more claim on them than Barbie had on Mrs. Armbruster's designer gowns. I was Fred's toy and so everything belonged to Fred. He took out one of "my" suits and tossed it to Zach. "Here, try this on." Zach got out of his ratty clothes and put on the suit. It fit him perfectly. "Zach looks good in that suit, doesn't he, Nicky?" Fred kept handing him more clothes to try on as I watched. Then Fred told me to strip and hand those clothes to Zach to put on. "You're a handsome guy, Zach. Those clothes never looked better." Zach grinned at me. "Well, it looks like we have some time before they get here, and Nicky is all naked so let's have ourselves some ass. What do you say, Zach?" Zach was already taking off my pants, his pants now. Fred and Zach took turns fucking my ass for the last time. When they were both spent, Fred threw me the clothes Zach had walked in wearing. "Here, Nicky, put these on. Zach won't be needing them. Just like we won't be needing you any more." Again, Zach grinned as I slid my body into his awful outfit.

The bell rang and I raced to the door again. Thankfully, it was the Kleins. They both kissed me. "Come on, let's get out of here," I said.

"You don't have any luggage?" I shook my head.

Fred came over to the door in his bathrobe. Zach was naked, hanging on his neck and grinning at me. Fred said nothing after I'd been his wife for eight years. Zach said, "Don't come back." The door slammed.

We flew in Mr. Klein's private jet to New York where they owned a huge home in an exclusive part of Westchester. In the days that followed, they told me their own history. They were never able to have children. As Mr. Klein got older, he was finding it more and more difficult to satisfy his wife. They both agreed they should hire young male prostitutes for Mrs. Klein. Mr. Klein loved his wife completely and wanted her to be satisfied in every way. He would sit quietly in the corner and glow with warm fondness as he watched the young men fuck his beautiful wife. But then he began to notice something peculiar. The scene in his bedroom was making him horny. It stimulated him and so one day he joined the boy on the bed for a ménage à trois. It was wonderful. Time after time, a boy in his early twenties would be hired to perform sex with both the Kleins. The boy fucked Mrs. Mr. fucked Mrs. The boy fucked Mr. Mr. fucked the boy. They fucked Mrs. in both her ass and pussy and of course all three sucked and rimmed and felched each other. It was working fine, except that some boys performed this variety of tasks better than others. They decided they needed to find a permanent partner with reliable performance. And while they were at it, it wouldn't hurt if he could do some cooking and cleaning. That way, they could tell all their friends he was their houseboy.

I fit the bill perfectly. I could prepare meals for three as easily as for fifty. I kept every room in their house spotless, and the gardens weedless. The Kleins owned an extensive art collection and appreciated the fact that I knew something of the subject. And every night, I gave them what they wanted and needed in the bedroom. Though I was the houseboy, the Kleins used the affectionate "Son." I loved them like the parents I never had, like the Daddy I thought I once had. I would do anything for them.

In the winter, I went with them to their home in Fort Lauderdale, with frequent flights to the slopes in St. Moritz. In the summer, we went to their beach house on the Riviera.

The Kleins entertained often and always introduced the houseboy to their friends. Everyone was impressed by the fine young man. I was embarrassed by all the attention, but I loved the warm feelings I had inside. On High Holy Days, I went to synagogue with the Kleins. Several of the congregants tried to set me up with their daughters, and a few with their sons. I felt deep in my heart I was finally part of a real family.

Of course, my head told me something different from my heart. When I thought about it rationally, I realized the Kleins had purchased my body like all the owners before them. That meant they could just as easily sell me to someone else, if and when they tired of me. I chose to live in the moment, rather than dwell on either the past or the future.

That's why, four years after I arrived, I was so shocked when I was preparing supper one afternoon and got a call from the hospital. The Kleins had been in a serious auto accident. I sped over there and saw them both while they were still conscious. I kissed each one and heard each whisper in my ear that they loved me. Then they were gone.

The Kleins were laid to rest and the Rabbi helped me arrange a beautiful memorial service. I sat shiva for seven days, and all the Kleins' friends came by to console me. They told me I was like a son to the Kleins.

After shiva, I put on fresh clothes and went for an appointment with the Kleins' lawyer to hear the reading of the will. They had left a generous contribution to the synagogue and another to the local art museum, but the rest of their entire estate, their three homes, their cars, their plane, their art collection, their liquid assets, all went to Nicholas, their houseboy. The lawyer assured me the will was incontestable and anyway there were no known relatives to make any claim.

At thirty years of age, I was a multimillionaire. More importantly, I was finally free. No one owned me. I owned myself.

.oOo.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.