Unmasked and Exposed

After my escape, Marcus Emerson was in a fix. He had a queue of sadistic clients waiting but no merchandise for them. In desperation, he turned his attention towards children. Fortunately, the NYPD intercepted his first attempt at trading in underage services. He has since been a guest at Rikers where the other inmates have a "special way" of dealing with underage sexual offenders. The guards are only too happy to look away.

Hector Garcia continued dealing in a variety of drugs. The FBI had however been building a case against him for a while, using his permanent sub as an informant. In the end, Garcia decided he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. He took down five officers before his sub snuck up behind him and injected a syringe of super-pure heroin into his arm, killing him instantly.

The Redeemers terrorized the Bronx for a few short months before they picked on the wrong gay man. Seeing two young guys getting intimate in a car, they promptly torched it without thinking twice who they could be. One of them was the youngest son of Tony Lombardini and heir apparent to some part of the Lombardini crime empire. His brothers ensured that none of the gang members survived the week.

Angel Suarez was wise enough to understand why I had left him the money. The regrets of unrequited love remained, even as he moved to Washington. Now, he is one of the most flamboyant and passionate gay rights activists in the Capital. He was partly responsible for legalizing gay marriage in New York. I look forward to earning my television privileges just in case I can catch a glimpse of him on the news.

As for me, all signs of Leslie disappeared. Master did it like only he can. You cannot find any record that Leslie ever existed. No birth certificate, no DMV records, no social security number. I am a living ghost.

Finally after being exposed all these years, I get to wear a mask. I don't exist any more.

* *

Ivan pulls his obscenely elongated cock out of my ass and gets up. The show ends to a round of applause. Master comes onto the dais, unmasked. He thanks all the guests for being part of his celebration. The rare smile tells me he is pleased by my efforts.

The crowd slowly disperses. Master tells his servant to wash me and bring me to his bedroom. After seeing my performance, he wants to personally tend to me tonight. He can be tender, I have heard and tonight, his mood might make him so.

I swear, I felt no pain. The magic chemical in the right dose took me back to my garden. The swaying trees and the silver blanket laid across the soft grass by the moon never lose their charm. I spent the last hour in the garden of my dreams with you. I hope you like it as much as I do.

Thank you for giving me company. It does get lonely at times in my garden. Angel is a busy man and can't always make it there. So, thank you for lying on the soft grass with me while I narrated to you highlights of my past life. A life that has been wiped away now.

Now we must part. The Master would be very angry if I stayed here any longer. I do not wish to earn his ire. You also should get back to your life.

But before you go, I would like to send you off properly, as gratitude for being with me in my garden and giving a patient ear to my life's story. As Yeats said so eloquently.

"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

Before you truly must depart, I would like to make on last entreating request of you.

Please tread softly. My dreams are very fragile and they are all I have.