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Young Master Series

Diaries of a Young Master (pt 11): Emergence

By
April 11, 2011

I was drowning in swirling, nebulous clouds of energy.  Everything was energy.  Matter was simply energy bound up in form.  Consciousness was waves of energy broadcasting out from brains like electromagnetic radiation.  Energy poured into me from outside my black cocoon in steady streams, but it wasn’t enough.  The hunger could not be sated. An organic form of great mass and intense emotions of loss, despair, and loneliness lay huddled against the cocoon.  I vaguely recognized the object; there was something familiar about it.  The heat from its body and its brainwaves fed me.  In time, its very molecules would break apart and all the energy released in the process would be mine, leaving no signs of tangible matter. Waves of horror and fear surged forth from a smaller form.  It too seemed familiar to me.  The thought occurred to me that perhaps with some concentration I may discern the forms with greater detail, but pains of hunger occupied my mind and such concentration seemed a waste of energy.  I would have fed on the massive form till nothing of it remained, but it escaped with assistance from the little one.  Only a momentary burst of fury was all the
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 10): Metamorphosis pt 3

By
April 11, 2011

What a shame that the sublime should be marred by the hideous!  Last night I have finally come to understand why Jamie worships Tommy, to see Tommy as a god.  It is an odd thing for me, a rather complex situation actually.  I have always loved Tommy.  He was a kindhearted child and readily reciprocated the love I gave, soothing a heart broken and hurting from the cruel treatment received at the hand of his mother, my erstwhile mistress and wife.  Of course, he knew nothing of this.  I was his daddy and she, his mommy.  My love for him was proper then, a father’s love for his son — except he wasn’t my son.  As he grew and his features gradually resembled hers more and more, and my need for affection became more desperate, the mind’s capacity to associate two distinct individuals can lead to confusion.  My horror was such that, when on one morning I saw his naked backside walking down the hall after a shower and—though I knew it was Tommy not Amber—my arousal was instant and painful, I shut myself in my office and remained figuratively so till just recently.  It was easier for me to
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 9): Metamorphosis pt 2

By
April 11, 2011

The world seems intent on pulling the rug out from under me, knocking me off my feet, and then distorting gravity so I cannot stand back up.  My very identity has been torn to shreds.  I should be scared, confused, angry, hurt, or any permutation of such unpleasant emotions.  Instead, I sit here all alone naked on a rock in the chill of a northern New England night, practically panting with excitement!  The weather forecast on this late August night is for unseasonably cool temperatures.  It’s welcome news; my body’s been burning up from within. There’s so much energy seething within my body.  I ran for hours completely naked in the dark, bounding over rocks and trampling tree roots.  I can see almost as clearly as I can in daylight.  The soles of my feet are raw, cracked, and bleeding, but I can see and feel the epidermal layers already healing and regenerating.  In a few minutes, my soles will be completely healed.  My ribcage is widening to accommodate my expanding lungs and a growing heart, beating furiously to pump blood and oxygen to an ever demanding body.  My bones and muscles are growing, becoming denser and stronger; the ligaments
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 8): Metamorphosis pt 1

By
April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 8/20 What a mind-numbing night it had been!  Being the last day before I was to return to school (I canceled my courses for the semester after that night) and seeing as I was in desperate need of some answers, I had nagged my father to drive up to the cabin for a dinner prepared by Jamie.  I had commanded Jamie to address me as Tommy and to act less deferentially.  It was a mighty struggle for him.  He kept his eyes on Carl and would hesitate a split second when addressing me by name. I don’t even remember what Jamie had prepared.  Carl seemed like his oblivious self outwardly, but I could sense that he perceived more than he let on.  His eyes lingered on me too long and would flick between Jamie and me when he thought I wasn’t looking.  I remained calm so that my eyes wouldn’t change colors.  I let him play his game during the meal.  Afterward, as we had coffee on the porch, the setting sun hidden by rainclouds, I pounced. “Dad, I know you’ve noticed the changes in my body.  Do you know what’s happening to me?  Is there something in
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 7): A Slave’s Blog continued

By
April 11, 2011

I was scared of the rubber suit.  There was no need for me to verbalize it.  I shrank from it like a cowering puppy, a massive 340-pound puppy.  The three-foot metal rod and cords of rope didn’t help. “Don’t you trust your master?” master demanded, his voice deeper and harsher than normal. “I trust you completely, master,” I replied earnestly.  Master stood over me, his bare feet set firmly on the hardwood, fists on his hips.  Morning light poured through the bank of windows and bathed master’s naked body.  His tanned skin flared like polished bronze.  His penis posed proudly like a figurehead on the prow of a 17th century ship.  The red mushroom head, glistening in the light, was an angry fist in my face.  Forgetting the rubber suit spread out on the bed, I dropped my forehead to the floor, my ass and knees spread out to abase myself. “Forgive me, master!” I begged. Master sat down on the floor, his legs splayed out on either side of me.  His hands embraced my face, lifting it till his penis came into view.  The head was still tumescent but a lighter shade of red.  It’s strange how I can
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 6): A Slave’s Blog

By
April 11, 2011

This is the personal blog of James Anthony Merrin, age 46, slave to master, Thomas Scott Barre, age 19.  I am keeping this blog only for master’s sake.  It is not accessible to the public. *** Master entered into my life with little fanfare.  He was just a friend’s kid.  I had stopped by to see Carl, master’s father, one day to get his opinion on a new idea for a novel.  I could see at first glance that master was your average young man.  There was nothing special about him.  I dismissed him immediately.  I had said, “Hey, kid.  You come to pester your dad for the summer?”  I made to brush past him when I saw a steely glint in his brown eyes.  It was as though a lightning bolt had flashed across each pupil.  I froze in mid-step. “No, actually,” master had replied sternly.  He didn’t bother to elaborate.  ”He’s in his office if you would like to pester him yourself.” “Sorry, kid.  I meant no offense,” I apologized lamely. “Whatever.  Don’t call me kid.”  Master marched off to the kitchen. I stood there unnerved by what I had seen in his eyes.  I wasn’t sure exactly
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 5): Pain & Pleasure

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April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 6/20 The last few days have been quiet.  As part of the effort to gain control over my urges, Jim and I have abstained from sex.  We passed the time together hiking, fishing, reading, cooking, holding hands while watching the sunset and/or sunrise, kissing (a lot of kissing), but mostly talking.  I learned that Jim has a younger brother in New Mexico.  His mother passed away recently.  His father is still alive but in a nursing home.  He has advanced training in tae kwon do, aikido, and jujitsu.  He loves jazz, classical, oldies, and some country. I shared with Jim that I am an only child.  My mom lives in Alexandria, VA and teaches high school English.  I have no martial arts training.  I attend UNH with a major in physics.  I am on the UNH tennis team.  I love outdoor activities like hiking, camping, fishing, skiing, and kayaking.  I love alternative, pop, folk, classical, and some jazz. I make it sound as though the last few days were casual and easy.  They were the hardest days of my life.  Even my parents’ divorce wasn’t as hard.  Every moment was a struggle with my desires.  It took all
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 4): My Will

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April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 6/16 I’ve stayed over at Jim’s since Saturday night.  I watched over him as he slept, caressing him all over, not wanting to lose contact.  He slept quietly.  I’m amazed how quietly he sleeps.  You’d expect such a large man would shake the house down with his snoring.  I guess I’m used to big men snoring.  My dad snores, though he’s not really big, just chubby.  The three guys in high school I had sex with were all big boys, and they snored.  Even my dorm mate, who is big only in the vertical sense, snores.  Jim is quiet as a baby. In the morning, I woke in bed to find Jim gone.  I panicked only to hear his foot steps climbing the stairs.  He stepped into the bedroom carrying a breakfast table.  He meekly smiled and said, “I made you some scrambled eggs and homefries, master.  I apologize, but the bread has gone bad so I couldn’t make toast.”  He stood there in the buff, waiting for instructions. I scooted to the center of the bed, motioned him to lay the table over my lap, and then tapped the bed to have him sit next to me. 
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 3): My Baby

By
April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 6/13 I’ve read and re-read my entry from yesterday.  I wish human beings could be simple.  All these emotions and desires complicate life!  I love Jim so much, and I miss him painfully.  But I am scared!  I want to run to him, plead for his forgiveness, and express my love for him.  Then almost immediately I think of his sweet ass, him begging for my cock and my cum.  I think of him groveling at my feet to be used and abused.  I am crying now, but I am also hard as a rock.  I am longing for his lips, his eyes, his arms, and his voice even as I grind my dick into the bed imagining I’m pillaging the soft, round hills of his ass.  I am horrified by what I did to Jim on Monday night but also incredibly aroused. I need some air.  I’m gonna go for a run into town. Addendum:  I went into the post office after my run.  Gary the clerk asked if I had any news about Jim.  Gary had left a voicemail for Jim on Tuesday morning informing him that a package was available to be picked up.  Gary
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 2): Beast Within

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April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 6/12 Jim has been exceedingly obedient.  I thought that once the novelty had worn off and his passions quenched, he would revert to his usual butch self.  Well, the novelty may have worn off, but his passions are far from quenched.  Sometimes I feel as though I’m being scorched alive by his flames.  In reality, I know that I am burning in my own conflagration.  I have unearthed a molten core of lust deep within me that threatens to consume the crust of my persona as your average college student. I confess that in my calmer moments I’m apprehensive about the kind of person I’m becoming.  I brood over the things I’ve done to Jim, the way I’ve treated him, not able to fully accept that these deeds were done by me.  It’s easier to think that, in the heat of passion, I’m possessed by a lustful spirit, a sadistic demon.  Who am I kidding? I’ve avoided Jim for the past three days, commanding him not to call or come by.  I cringe when I think of what I did the last night I spent with Jim.  I don’t want to think about it, write about it, but
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Diaries of a Young Master (pt 1): The Beginning

By
April 11, 2011

Journal Entry 5/29 It was mom’s brilliant idea for me to spend summer break with dad.  She, with her new boyfriend, had had her turn with me during winter break, so she was passing me off to dad.  After the divorce, shortly after I started my courses at UNH, dad moved to a little place in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom, living as a reclusive author of strange science-fiction/fantasy novels.  To be honest, I actually enjoy his books being a science geek myself.  Anyway, dad didn’t object.  He never objects when mom wields her mighty scepter of power. Shortly after my arrival, a friend of dad’s paid him a visit.  I was blown away, first by the sheer physicality of the man and then by the realization that my asocial father had a friend.  Frankly, Jim Merrin rubbed off on me as a giant prig who is accustomed to bulldozing his way through life.  The man is huge and intimidating!  My initial elation at seeing his awesome physique gave way to hostile irritation.  I told him where to find dad and stalked out for a walk. He was much improved in his subsequent visits, friendly and chatty.  The man talked about everything
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