To all of my readers who sent prayers and good thoughts to me during the last couple of months, I want you to know that my wife is free from pain at last, having passed away on April 30, 2016. I am slowly picking up the threads of my stories again and will update as I can. Thank you for your understanding and support.
The next two days went by in a haze for Greg. A couple of cases were assigned to the department but both were quickly solved and treated. He did his clinic hours and home chores in silence, speaking only when necessary, as his whole mind was consumed with thoughts of the Brotherhood and the brief glimpse he'd gotten of them. Just the thought of playing the piano every now and again made him want to leap into their arms but he couldn't help but think that this may be an unattainable dream. After all, for all the complaints and noises that the hospital made about him, Nikolai's efforts had served as a dual-edged sword; he made Greg interesting to the Brotherhood but also obedient and profitable to the hospital. How much had the hospital paid for him? Had he increased or decreased in value over the years? He assumed that slaves lost value as they aged and he had the infarction as well. Still, would interest from the Brotherhood inflate his actual value? Would they still consider him a worthwhile investment if it did? Or was he getting his hopes up just to be shattered?
Nikolai let Greg have the time to really think about a future, about having even the slightest say in what his future would hold. It would require a lot of training and teaching to get Greg ready and it would require a lot mentally from Greg as well. Nikolai wasn't certain yet whether Greg had the emotional strength and mental fortitude to make the changes in his thinking. He knew that Greg's personality had been mishandled by the Slave Administration center. Oh, they did what they were trained to do, make him an obedient slave for initial sale, but they didn't take into account what he would become in the long term. The fact was that they failed to do so with most of the slaves and that was where the Brotherhood had the most issues with them. Short of a lobotomy, slaves would eventually begin to think for themselves again; the longer they had been a slave, the more this was true. The Slave Administration's answer for this was retraining. Take them back to that shell-shocked state they first came out with. People who wanted slaves like that should get a robot and be done with it, Nikolai thought with a growl.
Still, Greg was putting serious time into thinking things over and that was a positive sign. Time to take the first steps toward becoming a slave of the Brotherhood with him. Nikolai opened his laptop and sent out a couple of quick emails then called the Diagnostics Department to speak with Greg.
"Master Nikolai," Greg said when handed the phone by Foreman.
"I need an answer from you, Greg. I need to know whether you've decided to try to be purchased by the Brotherhood or take the familiar route and remain with the hospital."
"Um…I wasn't…I didn't know I had a choice," Greg stuttered. "I thought it would be something you'd decide with Master Tobias."
Nikolai smiled at Greg's automatic use of master applied to Tobias as well now. "The choice to purchase is theirs. The choice to do everything to make them want to purchase you is yours. I won't lie to you; it will take work on your part. It will challenge your beliefs and touch on some of your deepest hurts. It will definitely be worth it. I'll be there through the whole process with you. But you have to choose and then commit to your choice wholeheartedly. I need to know your choice very soon, Greg."
"I…I understand. This evening. I'll let you know after work."
"Good enough. If you choose to try for the Brotherhood, I want you to do something to demonstrate your commitment."
"Do what in particular?"
"Think on it. You'll get the answer quick enough. I'll see you at 5:30 in my office."
"Right, 5:30, Master Nikolai," Greg responded hanging up the phone and heading into his office. He wondered what Nikolai could possibly be referring to and then was struck with the realization when he noticed the leash on the corner of his desk. He took a deep breath as he stared at it, already feeling the anxiety of leashing himself in the hospital building up. Could he do it? Well, he had at the house. Could he do it here? In the hospital? He wanted to leap at the chance the Brotherhood was hinting at providing, desperately wanted to. Was he desperate enough to do this?
At lunchtime, Greg's office door opened and he looked up to see Wilson standing there with a smile that sent a frisson of warning up Greg's spine.
"Come to my office, Greg. I've got lunch for you," Wilson said cheerfully.
Greg glanced at the clock; still an hour and a half before he was due in the clinic. Without a valid reason to avoid going, he shut down his computer and got up to follow Wilson back to his office. He still vividly remembered the way Nikolai had disciplined him for turning down Wilson's lunch before and really didn't want to do that again today. He had more important things to think about.
"Sit down on the sofa, Greg, I'll get lunch laid out," Wilson said as he bustled about behind the desk with an insulated bag. He started pulling out containers and Greg had to admit that the food smelled really good. Wilson brought all the food over on a tray and put it down on the coffee table in front of the sofa then sat down directly in front of it. "I made this especially with you in mind, so I hope you like it."
Greg watched warily as Wilson got a forkful of the food and held it out to him, clearly meaning to feed it to him. He allowed himself a small sigh then opened his mouth to take the offered bite. It tasted as good as it smelled and he nodded appreciatively hoping that he might now be allowed to eat on his own. No such luck. Wilson was now taking a bite of his own dish before gathering another mouthful for Greg and holding it out to him.
"You know, this would be easier if you were facing me," Wilson said suddenly. "Push the coffee table up against my desk then sit on the floor in front of me."
Alarm bells were ringing in Greg's head but Wilson wasn't doing anything that violated the tagging rights that Nikolai had claimed. He did as Wilson wanted, settling on the floor in front of him then grimacing and scooting closer when ordered to. Soon his feet were under the sofa in order to keep from having to sit cross legged, which left Wilson's feet placed between his thighs right at his groin.
"Much better, don't you think?" Wilson said with a smile, holding out the morsel of food again, smiling wider when Greg leaned forward to eat it.
"I prefer the sofa but whatever you want," Greg answered, daring to push a little and see how far Wilson intended to take this session.
"Yes, whatever I want and I prefer this way," Wilson agreed. "So tell me about your current case."
Glad to have a neutral topic, Greg filled Wilson in on the case while being fed, telling him the direction the team was leaning and what he had diagnosed it to be. Wilson chuckled at the team's determination to prove Greg wrong. "Just don't leave them on the wrong track too long, for the patient's sake."
"I always do what is right for my patients," Greg answered indignantly.
"But not always at the right time. You let things play out too long with your team, in my opinion."
"They have to learn how to do this themselves not just come to me for the answer," Greg retorted.
"You should do more to steer them in the right direction instead of letting them flounder around aimlessly," Wilson chided. "Anyway, I wanted you here because I've had one hell of a morning and need to blow off a little steam. Oh, don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to violate Nikolai's tagging rights. I value my job. But I have investigated the limits of what can and can't be done with a tagged slave just to make sure what I had in mind conformed to the rules and it does. Strip down. No, don't stand up, strip down right there and hand me your clothes."
Greg had a sinking feeling that this was about to go bad but did as Wilson ordered. He had to shuffle around a bit to get out of his jeans and shoes and he took as long as he dared but all too soon he was sitting nude on Wilson's floor.
"Still wearing that harness, I see," Wilson noted with satisfaction. Seeing Greg trussed up made him quite aroused. "Are you a slow learner for that lesson or just being stubborn? Hmm? Answer me."
"A little of both, sir," Greg said through gritted teeth.
"Of course, you're stubborn. That's what turns me on about you." Wilson toed off his own shoes and used his feet to play with Greg, smiling as Greg became semi-erect. "I discovered that tagging rights only apply to the violation of direct orders from the owner of the tag and sexually, it means that no one can perform on you or require you to give oral sex or penetration. No serious punishments can be administered without informing the owner of the tag and giving him the option of supervising or administering his own punishment. Beyond that, so long as nothing is done to interfere in your duties or your ability to perform them, the sky's the limit. Isn't that great?" Wilson asked with a grin.
"What about your agreement to train with Master Nikolai?" Greg asked cautiously, hoping that reminding Wilson would derail whatever plans he had in store.
"This isn't anything that will violate that. Just some midday fun. Get onto all fours," Wilson ordered with a smirk as he undid his belt and slid it loose from his trousers. "I remember how often you were caned and whipped before he came along. How compliant and easy going you were afterwards. Almost like it was a drug and once you had your fix, you calmed back down again. Then I realized something the other day. I missed it. I missed seeing you fidgeting around on a sore ass from a caning and how quickly you'd respond to any order right afterward. Caning has to be cleared with your tag holder but a good old-fashioned spanking doesn't. I'm going to get your ass nice and pink for the rest of the hour we have before your due in the clinic," Wilson informed him gleefully. Greg groaned softly and dropped his head as he took position on his hands and knees. This was going to be a long hour.
Wilson put one hand on the small of Greg's back and made him stick his ass up and out to take the spanking then ordered him to keep his head up so that Wilson could see his face. He took almost fifteen minutes, alternating between the belt and his hand, spanking Greg. Never enough to welt or bruise but Greg's ass was cherry red and burning sensitive by the time Wilson was finished.
"That's nice. Just what I wanted," Wilson said as he ran his hand over Greg's reddened ass cheeks and felt the heat radiating from them. "When we're alone, I want you to call me Master James. Understand?"
"Yes, Master James," Greg intoned, internally rolling his eyes as Wilson tried, poorly, to imitate Nikolai.
"Gods, I love the way that sounds. Stand up."
Once Greg was standing Wilson ran his hands all over his body, including stroking him to a full erection before returning to the sofa to open his trousers and free his own cock. Greg thought for a moment that Wilson was going to challenge the tag requirements when he was ordered to kneel at Wilson's feet.
"Reach into the bag, Greg, there's something special in there to end our session with," Wilson ordered. "And answer me when I give you an order."
"Yes, Master James," Greg ground out pulling out what proved to be a livestock baby bottle and handing it to Wilson.
"I bought this especially for you. It's filled with your favorite milkshake. You can drink as much of it as you can through the nipple while I jack off but you have to stop when I come."
The good food that Greg was getting now at Nikolai's house made this 'reward' much less enticing than it would have been when he was only eating stolen lunches and the slave canteen slop. Still, it stayed within the letter of the tagging regulations so he felt he had little choice but to follow the order. He opened his mouth and took the calf nipple in. It was slightly bigger around than his thumb and as long as it. He began sucking, finding that the milkshake was quite thick and cold. He'd have to suck fairly hard to get any out, either that or fill his belly with air and deal with that while doing clinic duty. As soon as he started sucking, Wilson began to masturbate, watching Greg intently the whole time.
Seeing Greg on his knees with the 'flesh' colored nipple in his lips and sucking hard to get the frozen confection sent a hard rush of arousal straight to Wilson's cock. He could almost feel Greg's lips on him again as he worked himself toward orgasm. Just before he came he pulled the bottle away and held his thumb out, ordering Greg to suck on it. The icy cold on Greg's tongue and palate shoved him abruptly over the edge and he came long and hard. Wilson lay back against the sofa gasping for air for a couple of minutes until he started to come down from the sensation.
"Go into my bathroom and get the cleaning supplies to get this mess cleaned up. Then you can get dressed and go do your clinic duty," Wilson ordered as he stepped out of his soiled trousers and got into his garment bag for fresh clothes. He pulled his desk chair around to where he could watch Greg and sat down to watch him cleaning up the room on his hands and knees with his ass still hot pink. The only thing spoiling the picture was Nikolai's tag hanging from Greg's collar. Once Greg finished cleaning the room and put the cleaning supplies back, Wilson called him over.
"Did you enjoy your lunch and milkshake?"
"Yes, Master James," Greg said, though he had his fingers crossed behind his back. It was a childish gesture, he knew that, but the best that he could do at the moment. "Thank you, Master James."
"You're welcome. Get dressed and go back to work." Greg was dressed and out the door to the clinic in record time.
Greg went through his clinic patients methodically that afternoon, using the time and the mundane illnesses to think about what to say to Nikolai about this. He had thought briefly of not saying anything at all. Wilson hadn't technically violated tagging rights after all but Greg felt that he had violated the training agreement Nikolai had made with him. He decided the best plan of action was just to report the bare facts and not make any accusations against Wilson. Master Nikolai wanted to know what went on with his slaves; Greg would tell him what happened as dispassionately as possible and hope that he had taken Nikolai's measure correctly.
That decided, he turned his thoughts toward the commitment Nikolai asked him to make toward being purchased by the Brotherhood. If he remained at the hospital, Wilson would eventually get his tagging rights back. As much as he'd like to deny it, Greg knew it was true. Nikolai was chairman of the board. The people that held that position rarely stayed on more than three years. And Wilson was well-liked by the board and the hospital staff. He'd get tagging rights back eventually. After getting a glimpse of another aspect to life as a slave, Greg wanted to have everything the Brotherhood had to offer.
As the day drew to a close, Greg put the medical journals he'd been reading away, put on his jacket and turned off the office lights. There, caught in the light from the conference room, was the tabbed leash. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to be calm as he picked it up. He wanted what they had to offer and this was what Nikolai required as proof of his desire. It still felt like he was enslaving himself but this time, he felt like he was choosing his path, at least a little bit. Putting the tab between his teeth, he opened his eyes and headed for the elevator.
There were a lot of strange looks and plenty of jeering from the other hospital staff along the way. He even caught the slaves peering up at 'Crazy Greg' as they called him. He forced himself to ignore it all and concentrate on reaching Nikolai's office without trouble. Linda looked up at him and gave him a big smile of approval before coming around the desk to alert Nikolai and leave the door open for Greg to enter. Nikolai stood up and moved to the center of the room waiting as Greg walked directly to him, knelt before him, and held up the end of the leash on his open palms.
"Well done, Greg. Decision accepted," Nikolai praised him warmly, eyes shining with pride as he stroked his head and shoulders. "Come. Let's go home and celebrate this step you've made today."