Christopher & Craig
Part 48: The Return of Craig Matthews
That night I moved Wade into one of the spare bedrooms and gave him some clothes to wear. He was almost painfully thin and I didn’t have much on hand that would fit him. It could always be bought later. He seemed surprised at being given a bed, but turned in wordlessly.
Mike left, still feeling satisfied and happy; secure in the knowledge that he would strip again next Saturday night. He’d be back in a few days.
Craig and I sat on our bed and I explained that we were training Wade for one of Leatherman’s friends. That was true enough. We crawled under the covers and slept.
Early the next morning Craig climbed out of my arms and out of bed to start breakfast. I performed my morning ablutions, then dressed and ventured out to face the day.
I knocked on Wade’s door.
He opened it, naked and trembling. His small frame was toned, but underweight, and marked by welts and bruises.
“Who did this to you?” I asked through clenched teeth.
He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “My Master.” He bent over and grasped his ankles, displaying his bruised ass.
This Donald was in for a rude awakening. I crossed to the dresser and selected a pair of sweat pants, underwear, a t-shirt, and white socks.
“Go take a long, hot shower, Wade. When you’re done put these on and come down to breakfast.”
He straightened up slowly. “Sir?”
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said, taking the clothes from me and walking down the hall.
My first instinct was to rip out Donald’s heart through his mouth. My second was to train Wade to exact revenge on him. Calm down, Chris...
There’s an old truism: The best revenge is a life well lived. We’d soon see.
Craig had pancakes grilling in the kitchen. He paused to greet me with a kiss and hand me a glass of juice.
“Master, will Wade be down for breakfast?”
I nodded. “Soon.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’m going to split the difference between what he wants and what he needs.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You will. I have something special planned for you today, too.”
Craig smiled.
It probably wasn’t what he expected, but it was time. I’d been preparing him for over a week.
Wade joined us shortly. He was swimming in the sweatpants and T-shirt. His hair was slicked down with water. I had a feeling he was a very handsome boy, though he hardly lifted his face enough to tell.
I encouraged him to eat. He scarfed down several pancakes and three glasses of juice. Something told me he wasn’t being fed at Donald’s.
Once he’d cleaned his plate he looked at me expectantly.
“Wade,” I said, setting down my coffee cup, “Craig and I need some privacy this morning. Would you like to go upstairs and watch TV? Or lie out back in the sun for awhile?”
He raised his eyes briefly. “Could I watch TV?”
“Of course. There’s one in your bedroom. You may watch anything you like.”
“Thank you, sir!” he said. “Should I wash the dishes first?”
“No, we’ll take care of it. Go on upstairs. I’ll come for you later.”
Craig and I cleaned up quickly and went into the den.
“Is it time for my surprise, Master?”
“Yes. Have a seat on the couch, Craig.”
He did.
“Make yourself comfortable.”
He leaned back a bit and settled himself better.
I sat in my chair opposite him.
“How do you feel?”
“Okay, Master.”
“My shoes are tight.”
Craig’s entire body seemed to slide downward. He looked like a cast-aside rag doll. Or a puppet with nobody pulling his strings.
That was an apt image.
“Craig, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Master,” he said dreamily.
“We’ve been working up to today all week. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That’s good. Breathe in and out. Relaxing so very much. There’s nothing here but you and me. You feel safe and warm and at peace... We’ve talked a lot this week about your training and how you behave as my slave, Craig. Do you like being my slave, Craig?”
“Yes, Master!”
“I’m glad to hear that. We’ve also talked about hypnosis. About how you would ask me to do things to you. And I taught you a great deal more about how to relax a man, and how to induce a trance, and how to persuade men to do your bidding. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Because today you are going to remember everything... Look around you, Craig. You are at the top of a set of stairs. Do you see them?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Breathe in and out. You are walking down those stairs. With each step—each breath—you feel more relaxed. Walk down... Down... Down... When you reach the bottom of the stairs you will see two doors. Do you see them?”
“Yes, Master.” His voice sounded very far away.
“One door is open. That door says Slave on it. Can you see that?”
“Yes, Master.”
“The door next to it is locked. It also says something. It says Craig Matthews. Can you see that?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Okay, Craig. Very soon I am going to give you the key to that door. And when you open that door you will still remember all of your training and all that has happened here. You will also remember everything locked behind that door. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.” I walked to my desk and retrieved Craig’s loafers from the bottom drawer. They had seen better days. I crossed to him and lifted each of his feet, slipping them into the loafers.
I returned to my chair. “Okay, Craig. The key is in your hand. Unlock the door.”
I watched as Craig used a key only he could see to unlock a door that existed only in his mind. He turned the knob...
His eyelids moved rapidly. His breathing increased. His head rolled on his neck.
“Breathe in and out. Calm. Relaxing. Let the memories wash over you slowly. Mingling. Filling your mind. Combining into one boy. Once slave. Craig Matthews. Breathe in and out... In and out...”
Craig’s face twitched.
“When I count three you will awaken. And you will feel refreshed and relaxed. You will remember everything. Except one thing: as always when you hear me say ‘My shoes are tight’ you will return to this relaxed state. Do you understand?”
No answer.
“Craig, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” His voice was soft.
“1...2...3.” I had no idea what would happen now.
Craig’s eyes snapped open. He looked directly at me.
I was sitting across from Christopher.
I felt strange. Dizzy. Like I had a hangover. Things were confusing. Memories were flashing in my head. Pictures. Words. Slave. White socks. Being tied up. Acting like a dog.
Were they memories? A dream? I looked down at myself. I had on cutoffs and a white T-shirt. Like usual.
Usual? This wasn’t what I usually wear. Was it?
My white socks. I leaned forward. I was wearing white socks. What did that have to do with anything?
Christopher!
“You hypnotized me?” I said.
He nodded.
I was going down on him. Sleeping next to him. Dancing with him.
“You were my Master?”
He nodded again.
“I don’t understand.” I was so mixed-up. I rubbed my eyes with my hands.
Christopher sat beside me. I felt his arm around my shoulders.
That felt good. It felt right. How could it?
“Craig,” he said, “I know you’re confused right now. And you probably have a million questions. You also have most of the answers.”
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t talk. I’m a good boy. I was tied to a tree...
“You need time to sort things out. Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down? Don’t fight the memories. Let them come to you. When you feel better come find me and we’ll talk.”
I nodded. “Yes, Master.” Master? What? “Chr-Christopher,” I stammered.
“Shh,” he said. “It’s okay. Go upstairs and rest.”
I tried to stand. My legs felt weak. Upstairs to bed. I was lying against Christopher. I was tied to the bedposts. I was blowing his dick...
I shook my head. No. What was this? I don’t understand.
I was climbing the stairs. I made it to the bedroom. Master’s bedroom. I barely made it to the bed and lie down...
To be continued in Part 49...
Christopher & Craig
Part 49: Wade.
I checked briefly on Craig. He was passed out on our bed. I was afraid of that. His mind needed time to reintegrate. I hoped I hadn’t rushed the process too much. There was no telling just how long his confusion would last. Or what might happen when he woke up.
I walked down the hall. Wade’s door was ajar and I could see him sitting on the edge of the bed paying rapt attention to the television. Some old laugh track was filling the room. He giggled along. In the blue glow of the screen his face looked impossibly young and innocent.
I wondered when the last time he’d sat and watched TV was. I wondered how he’d ended up this way. He was apparently being physically, emotionally, and sexually abused. Donald wasn’t a Master, he was a monster.
I steeled myself and tapped on the door, pushing it open.
Wade raced to switch off the TV. He bowed his head. “Use my body for your needs, Master,” he said softly.
“Follow me to the den, Wade,” I said.
We walked downstairs in silence, him behind me.
In the den I bid him to sit on the couch. He did, although reluctantly.
“Make yourself comfortable, Wade.”
He settled back on the couch, but he still looked uneasy.
“Wade, I can tell by looking at you that you’re very tense...very nervous. You’re afraid of what’s going to happen...and you don’t trust me. Am I right?”
“Sir?”
I smiled. “You don’t have to answer that. But I want you to do something for me. Take a deep breath. Go ahead. Now hold it. Hold it. Let it out. Feels good, doesn’t it? Kind of relaxing? Stretch out your legs a little... That’s it. Wiggle your toes. Are your arms comfortable? Take another deep breath. Let it out. That’s good. Keep breathing in and out... In and out... You’re safe here, Wade. Nothing can hurt you here. You feel good. You feel happy. You feel relaxed. Breathe in and out. Your arms and legs probably feel a little heavy. It’s okay. Just breathe in... and out... in... and out... Relax, Wade. Just listen to my voice and let it guide you. Your eyes may want to close. They can. It’s okay. Breathe in and out. Focus on my voice. Listen to my words.”
He was slowly starting to drift off. The changes were subtle. His breathing became slower and more rhythmic. His legs went a bit slack. His eyelids were drooping. His muscles twitched ever so slightly. He was beginning to feel the rush of letting go.
“Relax, Wade. You’re safe and protected here. Nothing can harm you in this place. Let down your guard. You’ll be safe. Breathe in and out. Let your body go limp. Your arms and legs feel so heavy. Your eyes want to close. You feel safe and warm and happy. In and out... In and out...”
His eyelids fluttered and closed.
“Wade, can you hear me? You may answer. In fact, it feels very good, very relaxing, to answer my questions.”
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly.
“Breathe in and out. You’re safe here. You tell the truth here. You must answer all my questions honestly. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Wade Ericson.”
“Are you really 18?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has everything you’ve told me been true?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Breathe in and out. Let your body relax. Does your Master feed you and give you clothes?”
“Sometimes, sir.”
Rephrase. “Do you eat everyday?”
“No, sir.”
“When did you last eat?”
“This morning.”
“Before that.”
“Two days ago.”
That explained why he was so painfully thin—Donald was starving him. “What do you wear for your Master?”
“Slaves don’t wear clothes, sir.”
I paused. So he was kept hungry and naked. “Wade, when do slaves sleep?”
“When Master allows it.”
He’d been conditioned well. “When does your Master allow you to sleep?
“I think every couple of days.”
Hungry, naked, and sleepless. All I could feel was the rage building in me.
“Where do you sleep?”
“Master locks me in a cage.”
I forced my fists to unclench. I had to stay calm in order to think rationally. I wanted Donald’s head. He had violated all rules of human conduct. He was using terrorist tactics—robbing a boy of food and sleep until his will could be bent to any type of training. It was no wonder Wade was so defeated and dependent on his Master. He had been conditioned much like Pavlov’s dogs. Offering no resistance to any commands and complying with his Master’s rules would earn him food and sleep. Disobeying would equal punishment, as the bruises and welts on his body could attest.
I continued. “What do you usually do for your Master?”
“I cook for him, and clean, and serve him.”
“Serve him how?”
“However he wants to use my body.”
I didn’t want to know the details, but in order to help Wade, I had to ask: “How does he use your body?”
Wade’s eyelids began to flutter.
That question must have touched a nerve. “Breathe in and out. Relax. You’re safe here. Does your Master hit you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“With what?”
“His hands. Sometimes he punches me. Sometimes he whips me. Or beats me with a stick, or his belt, or his shoe. Master hits me when I am bad so I won’t be bad again.”
I literally felt sick to my stomach.
“Do you have sex with your Master?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What does your Master have you do?”
“Master likes to rape my ass and mouth. Bad slaves are raped and beaten for disobeying their Masters—”
“Stop!” I took a few breaths. I didn’t want to hear any more. “That’s enough about your Master, Wade.” I rubbed my temples. “Wade, the night in the alley, what did those boys do to you?”
His lips began to tremble. His breathing quickened.
“Wade?”
Tears slowly rolled down his pale cheeks.
I had pushed way too far. I’d made him cry. Donald is dog meat.
“Wade, you’re safe here with me. Those boys can’t hurt you. Breathe in and out.” I sighed. How best to proceed?
“Do you have any family?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are they?”
He named a town about a half hour from here.
“Do they know where you are?”
“No, sir.”
“When did you see them last?”
“The day before I was in the alley. They went away for the weekend. I was supposed to go, but I had to work.”
Oh my God. His family hadn’t heard from him since he was sixteen years old. They must be frantic. I wasn’t certain exactly how to help Wade. Training a slave is one thing. This was something very different than what I usually encountered. This was the dark side of bondage and dominance—the sexual predators—that people think of when they condemn the lifestyle. They don’t think of relationships like Craig’s and mine. We had a committed and fulfilling life together. Well, we did until today. I hated to think what Craig would have to say when he woke up.
Wade was sitting peacefully, in a limbo of relaxation and nothingness.
“Wade, what was the date that this happened to you?”
“August sixteenth.”
“Okay, that’s enough for now. You need to rest. And I need to do a little research. Wade, I’m going to count to three and you’ll awaken. But when I say—” What? Sometimes I miss the obvious. “—’You’re safe here’ you will return to this state of security and tranquility. Only when I say ‘you’re safe here.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“1...2...3.”
Wade opened his eyes. He wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt.
“I’m sorry, sir. Big boys don’t cry.”
I got up from my chair and sat beside him on the couch. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
He winced.
“It’s okay, Wade. I won’t hurt you. And you can cry whenever you need to. Things are going to be different for you. You’ll see.”
He drew a shaky breath.
“While you’re here I want you to promise me something. Will you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
I smiled at him. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to eat three meals a day. And snack when you’re hungry. I want you to sleep when you’re tired. I want you to watch TV when you want to. And I want you to call me Christopher. Can you do all that?”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“Wade, pick your head up.” I tipped his chin up so he looked at me. “You’re not my slave. I’m going to help you.”
He looked at me uncertainly, trying to pull away.
“Are you hungry?”
He nodded and sniffed. “Yes, sir.”
“Uh-uh,” I said.
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve again. “Christopher?”
I nodded.
“Are you going to make me like Bootboy, Christopher?”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t do that to you.”
His eyes watered.
I smiled as reassuringly as I could. “I’m going to make you much better.”
I sat there with him for a long time. He rested his head on my shoulder and soon Wade was fast asleep.
I knew I had the ability to make Wade whole again. There was only one foreseeable problem: Donald. Leatherman was setting up a meeting between him and me. I smiled. I knew what to do.
To be continued in Part 50...
Christopher & Craig
Part 50: Craig & Christopher.
I felt sick. And dizzy. But I didn’t remember drinking.
My white socks?
I sat bolt upright on the bed. No, it couldn’t have happened. It had to have been a dream. I hadn’t been somebody’s slave. And I hadn’t hypnotized him. It was all a dream. Sure.
I looked at my feet. I was wearing one loafer and one white sock. Hadn’t Dorothy lost one shoe coming back from Oz? Wasn’t that why she couldn’t go back?
I pulled off the loafer. I hated shoes. Didn’t I?
I stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face. That felt better. I straightened up and looked in the mirror. Blonde hair? What was going on?
It all made sense, but it didn’t. I had all these memories, but they had to be a dream, right? I mean, they weren’t my memories. I knew who I was. I was Craig Matthews. I go to college. I work a lousy dead-end job. I have my own apartment.
And this wasn’t it. This looked like the house in my dream. But it was real.
I opened the door and walked down a hall. Downstairs. To a den.
He was sitting at the desk. I knew him.
“Christopher?” I asked.
He looked startled. He rushed around his desk to me.
“Craig,” he said, “How do you feel?”
“I’m so confused,” I said. “I had this dream...”
I eased Craig on to the couch. He didn’t look all that steady on his feet. “It was no dream.”
“I don’t understand. Did it all happen?”
“Yes, Craig.”
His eyes grew round as saucers.
“So if I say look at my white socks you’ll be hypnotized?”
“Christopher?” I asked. “Christopher, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Craig...”
I covered my mouth with my hand. It worked! I had hypnotized him. This was kind of cool. What else could I do?
“Christopher, stand up and stand on one foot.”
He got to his feet, then balanced on his right foot.
I stared at him. Did it work? Or was he putting me on? “Christopher?”
“Yes, Craig?”
“You can stand on both feet.”
He put his left foot down. I couldn’t believe it. I had to try something else.
“Take off your shirt.”
He immediately pulled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor. Nice chest. Stop! I had a man here that I could ask to do anything and I was worrying about his chest?
Wait a minute. He could ask me to do anything, too. But why did I know it now and couldn’t remember knowing it before?
“Why do I remember?”
“You hypnotized me... The only way we can be together now is if you know everything and still want to be with me...”
“Do you want me to be with you?”
“Yes, Craig... I love you. But I have to set you free to be your own Master...”
“Master,” I repeated.
“Yes, Craig?”
What the heck do I say now? “Wake up!”
I was standing with no shirt on. This was not a good sign. Did Craig even know what he was doing?
“Craig, please don’t say whatever you said to put me under.”
He wasn’t listening.
“I need you to explain. You said you’d set me free to be my own Master.”
I gasped. “I did?” Craig putting me under was dangerous. “You know how now. You can find your own boy.”
“But I want you, Christopher. Master. Can’t I stay here?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I’m not sure of anything! I’m so confused. But I know I love you. And I want to be with you. And I want to make you happy. I don’t know why I feel this way really. But I know when I ask you to look at my white socks you’ll do what I ask.”
“Take off your shoes, Christopher.”
He stooped over and unlaced his shoes, then pulled them off. He stood in white socks and blue jeans.
“Did you tie me up, Christopher?”
“Yes, Craig...”
Okay. “Did I ask you to?”
“Yes, Craig...”
I did? “Would you do it again?
“Yes, Craig...”
My dick was getting hard. “Wake up!”
I was staring at my own socks. I had taken off my shoes. When? Oh, God. This was serious. I didn’t know what Craig was thinking now. And he could put me under at will. Should I just put him under first? No, I wanted to know what he was thinking now. If he was under I wouldn’t be able to judge how much he knew and how much he understood. Stay calm. There’s no reason to worry. Craig was my boy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.
“Craig, do you really want to stay here? The decision is completely yours. You could go out and find a boy and make him whatever you want.”
“Can I make you whatever I want?” he asked.
I laughed nervously. He was kidding. Of course. “I could be your Master—”
“My white socks.”
“Take off your jeans.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then stepped out of them. He stood in boxers and white crew socks. He looked sexy. I loved that body.
What was I thinking? I had never seen that body! But I had.
“Did you make me act like your dog?”
“Yes, Craig...”
I had really done that? “Would that still happen?”
“When you wear your collar...”
No more collars. “Am I your slave?”
“Yes, Craig...”
No! I’m nobody’s slave! I’m Craig Matthews. I’m a college student. I’m Craig Matthews. Craig Matthews! But this is Christopher. And I like him. A lot. “Do you want me to live with you?”
“Yes, Craig...”
“Wake up.”
My jeans were off. I was standing in my underwear and I had no memory of taking off any of my clothes. My heart was racing in my chest. This was actually frightening. Craig had control now. And there was no telling if he still cared about me, or was angry with me or wanted to hurt me. I had to put an end to this before he did anything else to me. But what was the trigger?
“Christopher, I know how to hypnotize you,” he said. “Can you still hypnotize me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“My shoes are tight.”
Craig’s head nodded forward. Once again he was hypnotized on the couch.
“Craig, your mind is clearing. All your memories have returned. They’re a bit disorganized right now, but they should be adjusting into a timeline for you now. They are all true. You no longer have to wonder. You now understand the entire time we’ve known each other. You also know how to hypnotize men, including me. Do you want to stay with me?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Christopher Boldt.”
“Who are you?”
“Craig Matthews.”
“That’s right. We could have fun together, Craig. We could even hypnotize a boy now and then. Do you want to be my boy?”
“Yes, Master.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Tie me up, Master.” I shook my head. Some things never change. “Okay, Craig. 1...2...3.”
Craig stared at me wordlessly for a long time. I wondered what he was thinking. “I understand now.”
“You do?”
“Yes. My white socks.”
“Take off your boxers, Christopher.”
He pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them. He was standing in just his white socks.
“You’re hard, Master.”
His cock was standing straight up.
I wanted to taste that cock again. But not like this.
“Wake up.”
I had taken off my boxers, and was standing there, stripped by my own boy’s command. Craig got off the couch. What was he going to do?
He knelt in front of me, fully dressed. And he swallowed my cock.
My surprise dissipated as he worked his tongue over me. Craig gave me a real workout. My knees felt weak. I was ready to shoot.
He stopped and peered up at me. “How do we do this? When we can both hypnotize each other?”
“We’ll figure it out,” I panted.
“You’re still my Master?”
“Do you want me to be?”
“Yes, Master. Do you want to cum, Master?”
“Yes, Craig.”
He took my entire cock down his throat.
Just as I was ready to explode I commanded, “Cum, Craig!”
He shuddered and shot in his shorts.
There was surprise in his eyes as he swallowed my load.
He licked me clean.
“My shoes are tight,” I said. “Freeze, boy.”
Craig froze in his kneeling position, unable to move or speak.
I got dressed. His eyes followed me, watching intently. “Craig, it’s true you know how to hypnotize people and you may still put me under. But I had a Master once and you aren’t him. You can’t make me over. But I will tie you up.”
I finished tying my shoes and straightened up. “I think I know how to fix things, at least temporarily.” I retrieved the shackles from my drawer and returned to him. I squatted down and clasped the shackles around his ankles.
“From now on Craig as long as you wear these shackles you will be unable to say the trigger to put me under. You cannot hypnotize me while you are wearing these shackles. Do you understand? You may answer.”
“Yes, Master.”
I stood and mussed his hair. “You’re a good boy. And I love you. We’ll work out the rest as long as you want to. Do you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You may unfreeze. 1...2...3.”
Craig got to his feet. The chains on his ankles rattled.
He pulled me to him in an embrace.
I could feel his hard cock through his pants.
“I love you Christopher.”
“I love you too, Craig.”
He kissed me. Hard.
I gasped for breath. “Cum!”
He convulsed in my arms as he shot another load in his shorts.