The Island Estate Part 3

Author: ianlt
Title: THE ISLAND ESTATE Part 3
Date: 15 August 2015

THE ISLAND ESTATE
PART 3


But the final note confirmed that the Boss was arriving this afternoon at 4PM, always a piece of really good news. So we got straight to our chores, eager for the afternoon. Around 2:00 we cleaned up our section of the stables including all the gear. We also went to the main house, turned up the heat, opened the curtains, turned on the lights. This is the only time we ever enter the main house when the Boss is not present. We showered again and groomed ourselves to the image we had each been assigned, me granola folk scruffy, and Todd macho stud massive.
We both climbed into a rubber long sleeved cat suit, then covered that with jeans, bulky cable knit turtle neck sweaters, and our shining heavy work boots. We each took one of the large multi person golf carts down to road to the dock when we were notified that the yacht was approaching.
Because the Boss keeps his personal life distinct from his very aggressive business life, and since he often brings engineers, business men, and work crews with him, the greeting ritual is very professional. We stand on the dock side by side, The yacht’s crew throw us the lines and we help dock the boat. The Boss climbs off and meets us with a friendly hug and greeting. Then he helps the guests off, whomever they are, and we are introduced to them as his island staff. This trip, there was an engineer to review the performance of the blades on the large windmill. And the Boss’s sister and her three kids were also on the boat. The oldest boy is 14, but still uncorrupted by the bitter cynical sarcastic rudeness of teenagehood. Actually we love the kids and they love us enthusiastically back. We will, no doubt be swimming, fishing, carrening around the island in the golf carts, playing tennis and frisbee, and who knows what else with them, but also they are required to help us with some chores. Needless to say, what is below our side of the stables are seriously off limits to them. With the engineer arriving, Todd will spend a bulk of time with him, working on the wind power.
Todd loads that group up into one of the carts and heads up to the main house, and I greet the staff. The regular staff consists of the chef, who is, no doubt, nervous that the Boss’s sister is here, given her culinary fame. There are the two housekeepers for the main house, and a couple workmen to do some of the property work I need done. This time the workmen are a pair of arborists, to work up in the trees which need work. I mean, I can rustle 60’ up a tree with a macho chain saw, but sometimes it takes two to be totally safe, and some of the Arbutus trees need pruning. The 2 crewmembers for the boat are a couple and always prefer to stay on the boat.
Also arriving tonight as he does at least twice a month, is the Boss’s Trainer. This fellow is in his late 20s. He has degrees in Physical Therapy and nutrition, and advanced certification in sports training. He is the one who determines our diets and supplements, he writes up, sends, and monitors our daily workouts. He will spend a couple hours tomorrow morning, reviewing our progress. Otherwise, he will work with the Boss and his sister in the gym, and engage the kids in a variety of fun activities which have a hidden design to develop very physically fit young people.
The Trainer is obviously in stunning good shape, but also, smart, affable, with charming social skills. Outside our gym time, he is a phenomenally great guy to spend time with. But what the boss discovered early on though was that the Trainer, although straight, has a huge sadistic streak, that allows him to be a very tough, hence, successful coach. But being a tough coach only goes so far for his sadistic streak, so the Boss gives the Trainer’s sadism free range for our workouts under his supervision. Needless to say, I both really like, and dread the Trainer’s visits. Of the entire group, other than the Boss, he is the only one who knows about Todd’s and my predilictions, even though everyone knows and accepts that Todd and are a committed gay couple.
I drive the second golf cart to the main house, and help unload the gear which includes all the food needed for the meals plus the prepared trays for us, already designed by the chef and the Trainer, the equipment needed by the engineer, and the gear of the kids. The Boss assigns the rooms to his guests, although, except for the enginner, everyone already has a regular room. Todd and I haul the correct bags to the correct rooms, and take the food to the kitchen, and then return to the stables to put the golf carts away and load our future food trays into our kitchen storage.
Two and a half hours later we return to the main house for dinner. We are dressed in our “formal” gear, english riding boots, suede leather breeches, and a really full blouse-like white silk shirt. On the days the Boss is present, we eat formal dinners and sometimes other meals with him, and any guests in the main house. The chef and housekeeps eat in the kitchen, but the other 9 of us gather in the massive, elegant wood panelled dining room. The table is set with candles, and several fresh floral arrangements, starched white linens, a vast array of heavy sterling silverware, exquisite delicate crystal, and ornate fine antique. Admittedly, both the trainer, the kids and the two of us, have had to learn how to eat our food in this manner of style. The poor engineer could only watch us and try to emulate. The food was amazing, obviously, the chef overcame her fear and even the Boss’ sister praised the food. The evening was full of teasing, joking, and intellectual conversation. This was one way that the Boss would test our weekly learning, by introducing comments we would have to respond to, related to the subjects he had assigned us to learn. You could see, if you knew to look for it, the mischevious look in his eyes when he asked, and the storing of our replies. It was also apparent that his sister’s children were being encouraged and tested by his gentle questions and inclusion in the conversations.
These dinner were a delight to Todd and I. It was at these times we most felt that we were part of this incredible family. This was when we recognized that the Boss’s primary goal was to encourage us to a level of excellence in all apsects of our lives, equal to his own high standards, and we could see the same goals for his niece and 2 nephews, just using different methods. We felt totally loved by this family, and we loved them back.
However, we knew not to eat too much, since the rich food could easily disrupt our digestion, used as it is to our careful diet, plus we knew we needed to be fully prepared for the weekend. When dessert was finished, we stood and said good night. We were given hugs by the kids and the Boss’s sister, and slap on the shoulder by the Trainer. The Boss smiled and said, “I’ll tuck these kids in bed, and then drop over and tuck you guys into bed as well. We smiled back, the sister and the Trainer just exchanged an amused smirk.






Back at the stables,we got out of our clothes and cleaned ourselves out. We went to the dungeon and put a jock strap on over our chastity devices. We put thich heavy shackles on our wrists, and, while standing on adjacent stools, hooked the short chain between the wrists to a chain hanging for the ceiling. Then we stepped off our stools and kicked them behind us and waited, our toes just touching the floor.
This ritual wait really celebrated how we met the Boss. To tell that story, it helps to know how Todd and I met. We were both enrolled in a suburb tech school, me, just off the family farm getting an associate degree in Agriculture, and Todd getting his mechanics certifcate. His dad was an auto mechanic so he didn’t need to learn anything really, just needed to get the certificate. So we both were drifting along in school, and we were seperately part of the group of trade students who hung out at the somewhat seedy bar across the street from the school campus, getting almost wasted each afternoon.
One day, for some unknown reason, a flashy gay from the fashion design classes came in to order a drink. No sooner had he walked in the door than all sort of verbal abuse plus some ice and popcorn, was thrown at him by the patrons in the bar, so, luckily, before things could escalate, he flounced out and left. I told the guys I was drinking with to leave him alone, and they started razzing me, calling me a fag, offering me their dicks to suck, just general verbal abuse. Well, of course I was a fag, but I certainly didn’t want it public. Todd apparently was sitting nearby, overheard the conversation, interupted it, and asked me if he could buy me a beer. Neither of us were in the shape we are now, but he was still intimidating enough to stop the hazing. I didn’t really need to be protected from the hazing, which I could take and brush off as the result of dumb, drunk, blue collar guys, but Todd certainly caught my attention.
I excused myself and Todd and I went over to a corner to get acquainted, which included his placing his hand on my crotch under the table and my sighing. With that question clarified, he said he thought guys like us would both be happier at a different hangout he knew of in the city itself. It was a boots and jeans kind of place, and we quickly became regulars there. We were clearly the youngest patrons, and quickly became sort of mascots to the other guys
So, Todd and I soon became room mates, then lovers, then partners. We were young guys, but after finishing school we both moved into the city and both had jobs. We were clearly not twinks, not with our physical blue collar jobs. No way would Todd ever appear to be a twink, although I could have easily qualified, except for my scruffy face and sloppy clothes.
After a year of being a regular patron at the bar, the owner asked us if we would participate in a benefit “slave couple” auction. We, as a couple, had to agree to servicing the bidder for the night, sucking, fucking, but it was all guaranteed safe. Each of the gay bars was contributing a couple, so we kind of shrugged and said “yes”since we were loyal to our bar, liked the owner, thought the cause was worthy, and we figured if we were together we could get through the night. The owner had pointed out that we were the bar’s youngest patrons. We were “new meat”, and hence highly attractive to some guys who might prefer young but not twinks.
So, we showed up at the appointed night, at the host bar. We were told to stip and the owner gave us a jock strap with a wide waist band emblazoned with the name of his bar on it. Each bar was given a small space to display their auction slaves. There were some amazingly over-the-top stage sets, with admittedly beautiful boys, some set up like a harem, some guys in little boy prep school uniforms, some in drag with boas and whatever, some even with makeup. Our space was absolutely bare. The owner placed handcuffs on our wrists and attached them to a chain hanging from a ceiling pipe, arms stretched high overhead. That was how we were displayed. We were both caught off guard, neither of us had explored any kink play with each other, although we both later admitted that we both wished the other would have taken the initiative earlier on. We started to protest, and the owner shoved a leather penis gag in each of our mouths and buckled them on. For a while we were both angry, and struggled and shouted through the gags. I guess that at least attracted a crowd of men. The owner obviously knew a good marketing tool, and he did want to win the largest donation. We were fondled, touched, even kissed, as we settled down. The owner praised us for attracting the attention, reminded us we had agreed to be slaves, and we both at our own pace, started to enjoy it and even to develop an “attitude” Then the Boss felt safe to remove the gags, and the auction was ready to begin.
Since the auction was in alphabetical order of the sponsoring bar’s name, and our bar was called “Tom’s”most of the other guys had been auctioned off. I was certainly amazed at how much money was being raised by the other guys. I actually was getting nervous about how we would do, with no costumes or props. When the spotlight was shown on us, we were essentially blinded and were unable to see the bidders.
I think we were both gratified that the bidding was spirited and in the same money range as the other “slaves” But as the bidding was slowing down, we heard a new voice, shout out a number triple the highest bid for any of the other “slaves”. The auctioneer shouted “sold” and the auction went on. But the final few were sort of deflated, and our buyer and the two of us had clearly become the “main act.”
At the end, the rep for the charity benficiary came with the bar owner to each of the pairs, and in a little ceremony, the bar owner accepted the money from the buyer, and gave it to the benificiary. Because we had the winning bid, we were last and there was a little more ceremony as the owner accepted a banner as the overall winner to display in his bar.
But we didn’t pay any attention to the ceremony because we were face to face with the Boss for the first time. He was clad in a thick solid black leather Langlitz motorcycle police uniform, all leather, shirt, jacket, pants, tie, and cap and gloves. He had silvered aviator glasses on, 2 pair of gleaming handcuffs one one side of his Sam Browne belt, and a black police truncheon on the other side. We could see a perfect chisled face, and perfect haircut. His deep voice said he thought the price was for each “slave” and he handed over double his bid amount. He stood there, taking out his trucheon, slapping it on the palm of his hand. After the music had started, and the spotlights turned off, and the partying began, the bar owner said something like, “I thought that you would like them” and the Boss replied, “You did good!”
First he walked around us, slapping his truncheon. Need less to say, I was incredibly arroused, all my sexual life I had dreamt of such a thing. Todd later told me he had identical thoughts. After some moments of walking around us, he reached out and stroked our torsos, then our fully arroused crotches. It was obvious that he acknowledged us as a couple, just in the way he touched us together and equally, turning us so we were facing each other.
Then he had the owner take us down from the celing chain, and locked the handcuffs behind our back, but only after linking our arms between each other and took us off. What is the saying? Took us away for the rest of our lives.
So that is how we greet him on his first visit each trip to the playroom, with a jockstrap on and handcuffed to a chain over our heads. We wait till the dungeon door opens and he walks in once again, fully geared in his leathers, and once again, slapping his truncheon on his palm. Again, he first walks around us just looking, before he begins to touch us with his gloves. But now he also takes his truncheon to our torso, front and back, landing blows with dull thuds. We do not call out or even moan, and then he throws off his cap andglasses, breaks into a huge smile of happy affection, and embraces us together, nuzzling us, praising us, saying how much he loves us.
Then the three of us climb into the big leather clad bed and cuddly up together, chat for a bit, and fall asleep in each others arms.