Obey - 29. Chapter 29 -- Other Nights

Barcelona

From slave in barcelona: My Lord!
Thank You for sending me Your pic! Just decided to write You that I can not stop looking at it! I know You must be have a lot of messages where slaves write Your body is perfect. But this is true. It is a pity I am so far from You. slaves near You are lucky!!! Please have a good day and take my best wishes!

From Alan: Thanks. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said actually, though I don’t know what you can see since I’m wearing a suit. But I’ll take it as a compliment. And, yeah, it’s a shame we’re so far apart because you’re pretty good-looking. But here are a couple of presents that might shorten the distance. One’s a year old, and the other’s two.

From slave in barcelona: My Lord!
Thank You very much for message back and Your photos with all of You and especially for one where Your shirt is open a little. I can see hair! You are like sweet chocolate. I wish to taste You in person. You make me even harder now then the first time I see Your picture. I am in public place, ha-ha. So You see it is some problem for me here, a lot of people around, ha-ha. But I enjoy Your pics. I wish to have it printed with me. Yes, pity we are so far, but in dreams You are closer, in my town. You wrote it is something that can make distance shorter? I guess You can come here for vacation, am I right? It would be great!! Please come have a good time! And thank Your finding me good looking!!! I will think about You and in anyway hope we will keep in touch!!!

From Alan: I’m a pretty private person, and that first photo – the one with my shirt open a few buttons – is about as far as I usually go online. But, for you, I just took my shirt off and then was inspired. So I’m sending one of the few pictures of me naked that exists. But I figured it was pretty safe, traveling as far as it’s going and only showing me from my chest to my knees. And thanks again for the compliments, and if I ever risk any more photos this way, I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, put that one some place where it’s electronically safe for you to enjoy because there may not be any others.

From slave in barcelona: My Lord! My Lord!!!

Boar

From Boar: Stocky boar looking for a chef or a butcher interested in using me as longpig.

From Alan: Longpig, eh? In reality, what parts of yourself could you offer for dinner? I suppose, if I could safely sweat 40 pounds off you, it would make a nice soup.

From Boar: I have muscled thighs and legs, and I suppose there is meat available on my upper chest and shoulders. They’re all available. I just don’t want to suffer more than 10-15 min during the operation.

From Alan: You’re a braver man than I am, but I’m also considerably thinner. If anyone starts chowing on me, I’d quickly be dead meat. Still, I hope you find who you’re looking for.

No reply

From Alan: I haven’t heard from you for a while. Still hunting canibals, or did you find what you wanted?

From Boar: I didn’t realize you were a chef looking for a longpig for real. My mistake?

From Alan: Here’s the problem – anyone who has the surgical skills to do what you want and not harm you would lose his license for using his skills that way. Other than that, I have no problem with you taking a slab off your body, cooking it up, popping it on a roll, and then watching someone eat it. Personally, I’m a vegetarian.

From Boar: I got it right the first time, asshole.

Kink

Kink is not an adjective I use to describe myself. It’s a proper noun – my middle name. I live near the edge of everything. Join me.

Beware

Beware of DavenportCouple. . . they say they are looking for a third, But the older one starts to freak out once the younger one finds someone he likes. . . . . . FREAKS. . . . . . Big Time. . . . . Or you think you are chatting with the younger one, But sometimes it’s the older one pretending to be the younger one

Basement Boy

From Alan: You’re cute.

From Basement Boy: Sir thank you SIR

From Alan: But why do you want to be kept naked in a basement for the rest of your life? You’re not even 21.

From Basement Boy: Sir its the best thing 4 me SIR

From Alan: You could simply do something that would get you locked up for the rest of your life. Let the professionals take care of you. If you’re angry enough, you’ll get thrown into solitary. If you’re lucky, you might be tortured by some guard. At very least, you’ll be regularly raped.

From Basement Boy: Sir now i’ll have a boner for the rest of the day SIR

From Alan: What’s the longest you’ve actually stayed naked?

From Basement Boy: Sir 4 days SIR

From Alan: Why?

From Basement Boy: Sir because I was told to SIR

From Alan: Where?

From Basement Boy: Sir in a unfinished basement SIR

From Alan: Did you enjoy it?

From Basement Boy: Sir i didnt get any sleep. i was hard all the time SIR

From Alan: What do you want to do next?

From Basement Boy: Sir go for a week at least. with only a gallon of water and no food. and i want to be cold all the time SIR.

From Alan: It’s 28 degrees out. When you get home, open all the windows in your bedroom and sleep naked on the floor with no covers. See how long you can stand it. I’ll bet there’s quickly none of that boner left.

From Basement Boy: SIR yes SIR!

From Alan: Oh, damn.

Independent

From Independent: Probably get along best with other independent types who are smart, playful, ironic, loyal, aware of their flaws, aware of the world, and know what they want from life. I’ll bet you’re very good-looking. You seem confident. I wish you were in my range.

From Alan: How do I fall out of your range?

From Independent: If you can even get past the fact that we’re geographically some distance apart, then there’s the fact that 15 years start to mean something when you’re nearing 60. I can probably match your energy, but I’d be lying if I said I could do it for long. More often than not, I find myself using this site to remember how careless I once was about love and how much for granted I took sex – I especially think about the sex.

From Alan: Well, I hope you at least figured out the love.

No reply

Kentucky

From the Internet news: A part-time census worker’s naked body was found hanging from a tree in a rural cemetery in eastern Kentucky with the word "fed" written on his chest in felt-tip pen. Bill Sparkman, 51, had been gagged, and his hands and feet were bound with duct tape. "The only thing he had on was a pair of socks," a witness said. "He had duct tape over his eyes, and they gagged him with a red rag or something."

From Alan: I’m just curious. Has anyone in Kentucky said anything about Bill Sparksman’s death being an accident? It feels so much like a scene gone wrong.

From Kentucky: I think if a scene goes wrong you at least hide the body or make it look more like an accident than a murder.

From Alan: Unless it’s like a hit-and-run, and it’s something you didn’t expect to happen, and you panic. It’s weird how this comes right on top of the way David Carradine died.

From Kentucky: I think it was some red neck drug dealer sending a message to the government that he does not like his privacy invaded and I am sure they will catch his ass and when they do I am sure he will not like his ass invaded either but there will be little he can do about it. The government does not like that kind of a political statement.

From Alan: Yeah, that’s the other real feeling I get about it – that it was some backwoods drug dealer. But then, why would Sparkman be naked, and why the duct tape, and why leave his socks on? There’s just so much of this that feels like a scene.

From Kentucky: Maybe but this isn’t like Carradine. David died like hundreds of other guys do. He just got carried away and its not a bad way to go.

From Alan: I’d rather die in bed, in my sleep, at 85. But, yeah, I hope Carradine got off and then passed out, instead of knowing what was happening and struggling while he choked.

From Kentucky: I don’t want to die sick. I’d shoot myself first.

From Alan: I couldn’t do that, for a lot of reasons. But you may be right about Carradine. Considering the way he seemed to have lived, the worst death he might have imagined would have been dying slowly of illness.

From Kentucky: Going back to Sparkman when I take a prisoner whether its sexual or not, I always strip them and humiliate them especially if its some one that would think that they had some kind of authority over me. A red neck drug dealer must feel like every government man and every cop is trying to dominate and control them, so I can see why he would strip Sparkman and humiliate him.

From Alan: I figured, being closer, you might know more about this than I do. That’s why I wrote.

From Kentucky: See, to me it’s Indiana Jones facing the guy with the sword: If I were a drug dealer working out in the woods, and some government guy turned up, saying he was a census taker but who I thought was a cop, I just would have shot the guy, the way Indiana Jones does. Unless the drug dealer didn’t intend for Sparkman to die, and he was just trying to warn Sparkman off by humiliating him. Stripping guys sure has a long military history that probably has nothing to do with wanting sex. But I always figure that behind all that tough stuff there’s some kind of really closeted gay guy.

From Alan: Or John Phillips, never thinking that, years later, his drug-crazy, former actress daughter would wreck what was left of both their reputations, by trying to make a couple of bucks selling a book.

From Kentucky: All men are bisexual. Thats a fact. Society just teaches you to lie about it one way or another. But any time you want to express dominance over another male, strait or gay, you strip them and make them suck your cock or you piss on them, or both. Thats why Suck my Dick and Piss on You are commonly used terms in both strait and gay male society.

From Alan: I’ve never thought abut that.

From Kentucky: And I don’t believe the Philips girl can remember her childhood and I don’t think this will damage the reputation of the Mommas and the Poppas in the slightest.

From Alan: I can never remember all their names anyway. But I always remember Momma Cass.

From Kentucky: Yeah if it were something that could totally destroy Momma Casses rep then maybe some one would remember but I give this bullshit 6 months at best then it will be forgotten.

From Alan: And now it turns out that Sparkman killed himself for the insurance money. Much simpler than anyone expected. I guess he left his socks on so he didn’t hurt his feet when he was setting things up.

From Kentucky: Probably not some one I would miss anyway. At least some red neck didn’t get lethally injected for no reason. And maybe Sparkman got off when he died. No sense wasting a hard dick.

(continued)