Larry wants me naked for our first "chat" together at 3. Not on the ground though, but on his couch with my legs folded under me and stretched as far apart as they can go. "I want you aware of how much less you seem in my eyes than you did in class last semester where you were treated as equal to the other students in the seminar. Get in touch with that. The past is in the past. You're a totally different person now---well, actually not a `person' in the usual sense of the word. You're a slave. I watched you get punished by your Master, and I watched him make use of you the way he did. So there are no illusions between us, Q, of what you are. That also means that I direct our conversations. This is not like any kind of counseling session. I've never tried to counsel slaves before and I really have no interest in doing so."
"Sir, am I allowed to ask questions?"
"You can try. If I want to, I'll just silence you. But what's on your mind now? Tell me what it felt like for you to hear what I told you."
"Broken down and humbled and, um... happy about it, happy that you're able to keep me in my place and focused on the fact that I am an owned collared slave, not just a Dunstun freshman. My question, Sir, is whether or not you know of any slaves who see counselors?"
Larry chuckles. "No, I don't," he says, "but I know a slave who actually is a therapist."
"Wow!"
"Boggles the mind, doesn't it, boy?"
"Yes, Sir. I don't think I need anything like that, Sir, unless someone was gonna try to cure me from being such a humiliation addict, or whatever you'd call me."
"Slave is the best word for you. Everything else is included within that identity. Everything that your Master wants to be part of that identity. And you have permission to speak freely when we're together like this, Q. Even when you are naked the way you are now, obviously a slave."
"It seems my identity is getting expanded, Sir," I say, now regretting any of it.
"and how are you adjusting to that, boy?"
"so far it's only the idea that he's planning to break me in regarding other kinds of bdsm things, Sir. I'm a little apprehensive and also kind of excited."
"An interesting combination, Q. I imagine it will become a common experience."
"It already is, Sir. It already is."
"So tell me, Q. I know you reacted badly when we had that meeting to discuss your class schedule, but that's all in the past now that you were adequately punished for your behavior. You will, in time, I'm sure, learn that you will always bring a heap of trouble down on your head if you don't learn to separate what unpleasantness you're tasting because you're a slave from your way of reacting to what you're feeling. Anway, I'm getting off track. The reason I brought all of that up is I wanted to know how you're feeling—and thinking---about things now that you've had most of your classes at least once."
"All but Schillinger's, Sir. That meets only on Friday afternoons."
Larry chuckles at the thought that his colleague saves the best part of his teaching load for the end of the week. He wonders what the eminent professor does on Friday evenings after a stimulating discussion with his students.
"And you haven't answered my question yet, boy."
"Sorry, Sir. I'm pretty much okay with it. I mean, there's still tomorrow, but after my creative writing class this morning I'm beginning to realize how much better it is, this program, compared to the one I thought I would be following. It's easier to stay conscious of what I am this way, Sir, considering that my courses were selected for me because I'm a slave. I got outed in the writing class this morning, Sir."
"Excellent. I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure Schillinger will do the same thing in his own way."
Uh-oh.
"Well, Sir, I know I'm not the type of slave that existed in the ancient world—that was more real, I guess, and a lot more horrible because I'd think that most of those slaves would hate the fact that they've been enslaved."
"True, boy. Unlike your situation. Your experience as a collared slave will never suffer the kind of cruelty that was common back then. But I probably shouldn't delve into that subject and leave it to your history professor."
"Sir, if I might make an observation?" Larry nods. "I think my own situation is a lot more like what the adolescent boys who were not slaves experienced in their relationships with the older men who took them under their wing."
"To a point, Q, to a point. That's a good observation. The boys' lovers were also their mentors, Q, perhaps in some sense similar to the role I now play in your life."
"But those men probably never punished their boys, I suspect, Sir."
"All boys were regularly punished in that world, Q. Just like you, except they were practically a generation younger. And if the so-called mentors didn't discipline them, they most likely got plenty of it in their family settings. But again, let's leave that up to your prof. So, changing the subject . . . what do you find the most irksome about being Craig's slave? I know he set some rules for you to obey, so I'm wondering is anything is really difficult for you."
"Sir, it's not the rules. It's just something that happens to me a lot and it always bites me quite a bit."
"And what is that? How does it happen?"
"Sir, it happened the day you and Master were discussing my academic program, Sir. You were having a conversation just between the two of you about me who was just there like some kind of object you were discussing."
"That problem incited your inappropriate response to the situation."
"Yes, Sir. In fact it was probably the worst part because you two were discussing what really means a lot to me."
"So much the better for us to take it away from you—that is, take away your ability to have any control over it on your own. It was an excellent stripping away. It doesn't matter how much something means to you or doesn't mean to you. You have no control. Period. My own slave still struggles with that from time to time, even after twelve years of experience. It will always manifest itself somehow."
"Sir, it happened again at lunch today,"
"Tell me about it."
"Someone met us—well, met Craig—I was just the slave eating the lunch Craig picked out for me. Then he and Craig were making plans for using me this weekend."
"And you were not involved in the planning, were you, slave?"
"No, Sir. Not at all. It was as if I wasn't there. I certainly didn't need to be there. They would decide whatever they wanted for me."
"As it should always be, Q."
"Yes, Sir."
"You love him, don't you, boy?"
"With all my heart, Sir."
Larry gives me a warm smile. First in a long while. "It comes through whenever you say his name."
"Is that bad, Sir?"
"No. It's endearing. I'm not sure if others would actually pick up on it, though, unless they were involved in similar relationships themselves."
"Is your slave in love with you, Sir?"
He got very short with me. "You are never allowed to ask questions about my personal life, Q. Hard boundary."
"Sorry, Sir. That was stupid of me. I just got carried away in the conversation and forgot my place."
"I'm glad you realize that. I'll ask Craig to discipline you for it this weekend."
I say nothing. Just lower my eyes.
"We have only five minutes left, Q. I want you to get off the couch and grovel the way we taught you. It will do you good to be in that position, especially since you lost yourself a while ago and "got carried away," to use your own words."
Down I go. And he's right. It helps get me back in the right frame of mind. And shit, I wonder how Craig's gonna punish me, especially considering I'm gonna get roughed up this weekend, it seems.
When time is up, Larry stands up. "You may put your clothing back on and leave to go to whatever is next on your schedule." He leaves the room. Funny, I think. He likes to watch me strip naked, but he doesn't care to watch me reverse the process.
What's next? I'm gonna find out about the carpet in our room. I hope I still get to have some time alone, An awful lot just happened in that session and I wish to think things over a bit more. One thing is definitely on my mind, though: how important it is for me to be naked during these sessions. I have to make sure I don't get inappropriate like I did there for a bit. I am a slave. With Larry, I am a naked slave. And Larry's not into guys either! That makes it even more humiliating: there I am, naked, and the sight of me isn't the least bit appealing to him. My nakedness isn't even appreciated. It's just so I can appear to him the way I really am. And, of course, there's something symbolic to it as well. I have to be naked before him on the inside as well as on the outside.
THE END OF THIS CHAPTER
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