Christopher & Craig
Part 86: Size Matters.
I led Chris upstairs to the bedroom and had him lie on the bed. I untied his shoes and slipped them off his feet.
“Chris, look at your feet.”
He tilted his chin to stare at his own two feet.
“See the white socks? They remind you of my white socks. You have to lie here and think of my white socks until I come back for you. Understand?”
“Yes, Craig...”
I left him and shut the bedroom door. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to know about Alan. I just didn’t want to tell him until I was done. It wasn’t really lying. And he would enjoy thinking about my white socks.
Wade was wrapped in a towel when I passed his bedroom.
“Chris is taking a nap, so keep it down, okay?”
“Sure. I’m getting in the shower.”
“Perfect.” I hurried downstairs and called Alan. I had to make this fast. I didn’t need Wade walking in on us. Having him living here was getting to be a pain. But Chris would turn me back into a slave if I ever tried to put Wade under. I was sure of that.
I opened the front door and saw Alan looking kind of rough around the edges. He was unshaven, and his hair was a mess. There were dark circles under his eyes.
“Hey, Alan. Something wrong?”
“Huh?” he asked, in a bit of a stupor. “Oh. Hi.”
“Why don’t you come in and tell me what’s going on?”
“Ok.”
Alan dragged himself into the den and sat mournfully on the couch. This wasn’t really what I had expected.
“How are you?”
“Ok. You?”
“Couldn’t be better,” I said. “You look like you lost your best friend.”
“I didn’t sleep well.”
“Needledick.”
Alan’s eyes shut. He really looked like hell. Obviously in his world size mattered more than I’d realized. Good, because the matter at hand would be resizing his perception of his cock permanently.
“Why didn’t you sleep well, Needledick?”
“I kept checking my cock.”
“Why?”
“To make sure it wasn’t getting any smaller.”
I laughed. “Alan, I wouldn’t worry about that. You already have the smallest cock in the world. Needledick. Don’t you remember in school when they’d call you that? Back when we’d change for phys ed and the guys would all taunt you and call you Needledick because of your small cock? I know you remember the shame you felt when they would make fun of you.”
Alan’s arms and legs were tensing up.
In truth he didn’t remember anything I was saying. It never happened. But he’d think it had after today. “Think back to the first time you had sex. It was with Cat Dane, wasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you remember the look on her face when she saw your small cock? The pity in her eyes? The disappointment? She knew you could never please her like a real man with your Needledick.”
Alan jerked his head from side to side. He was trying to fight me.
“Relax, Needledick. Deep breaths. Think of every girl you’ve ever slept with.” I paused. Knowing Alan the way I had I was sure it’d take a few minutes to remember many of them. “Remember the disgust on their faces, and how they laughed and sneered and called you Needledick. All your life you’ve been ashamed of your Needledick. Repeat that to me, knowing everything you say to me is the truth. All your life you’ve been ashamed of your Needledick.”
“All my life I’ve been ashamed of my Needledick.”
“Yes, you have. In college you used to try to pad yourself with a rolled up sock. But the sock would shift around and make weird bulges in your pants so people would point and stare. You were embarrassed and humiliated over and over because of your Needledick. You still are.”
His shoulders were twitching. Strong-willed little prick, wasn’t he? Fine, I could make it worse for him.
“You know all of this is true, Needledick. Relax. Anytime you begin to doubt that you’ve always felt this way you will look at your cock and see it become even smaller right before your very eyes. If you begin to think it’s not the world’s smallest cock it will shrink even more. Understand?
“Uh-huh.”
“You know you must believe that your cock is the smallest cock in the world. Otherwise you’ll watch it shrink right up to nothing.”
I heard the water shut off upstairs. Wade would be ready shortly. That would have to be enough for today. “1...2...3.” I stood. “Well, Alan, give me a call tomorrow or the next day. Maybe we can get together.”
As he got to his feet I glanced at his baggy khakis. “Those pants seem awfully roomy, Alan.”
He turned pale.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I just meant maybe they were a little big for you?”
“I-I better go,” he stammered.
I walked him to the door, biting my lip to keep from laughing. Poor Alan. He was finally getting what he deserved.
Now I just had to deal with Chris. I returned to the bedroom. He was still lying on the bed, staring at his own white-socked feet.
Of course he was! Where had I expected him to have gone? After all, when he was thinking about my white socks he’d do anything I told him to. The things I’d like to make him do. I could feel my cock starting to grow at the thought. I shook my head. I had to remember not to push it. The last time hadn’t gone so well.
“Chris, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Craig.”
“That’s good. Are you thinking about my white socks?”
“Yes, Craig.”
“As you think about my white socks you will find that it becomes very easy to forget all about the phone call I got from Alan today. In fact, the longer you think about my white socks the harder it is for you to even remember the phone ringing today. When I count to three you will not remember the call. Understand?”
“Yes, Craig.”
“You’ll believe you came up here to take a nap once you awaken. 1...” I stopped. What harm could it do? “And tonight you’ll want to tie me up more than anything. 1...2...3.”
I nudged Chris’s shoulder. “Wake up, Chris. You still have to get ready for tonight.”
Chris roused himself. He sat up and smiled at me. “I must’ve been dreaming,” he said.
“What about?”
“I don’t really remember. But it had something to do with you.” He reached for my hand. “I was tying you up...”
I grinned. “Why don’t we make that dream come true?”
To be continued in Part 87...
Christopher & Craig
Part 87: Bootdog.
“What a good idea,” I said with a low laugh, swinging my legs off the bed.
“What?” Craig asked.
“I was just thinking that dreams can come true. My shoes are tight.” As I said his trigger I realized I was standing in my socked feet. When had I taken off my shoes? Well, no matter.
Craig stood still, swaying slightly on his feet. I pulled a straight-backed chair from the small desk in the corner into the middle of the bedroom.
“Strip, Craig.”
I watched as he quickly and methodically removed his sweatshirt, jeans, t-shirt and briefs. He stood in his socks, waiting.
“Sit on the chair.”
He lowered himself to the seat. I opened the bottom bureau drawer and pulled out several lengths of rope. Before long one length of rope wrapped his chest to the chair back and his wrists behind the chair, while two others secured his ankles to the front chair legs.
I stood directly in front of him and counted to three.
Craig looked up and around. He seemed to realize first he was naked, then he was bound to the chair. His cock responded by filling immediately.
“You put me under,” he said in surprise.
“Yes. It’s been awhile.” Maybe too long?
“Why don’t you look at my—”
“I’ve been preoccupied with these other boys, Craig.” I cut him off. “I’ve been ignoring your needs. Like how you need to be tied up every so often. I know how much you’re into restraints.”
He was breathing a bit heavier. “But just look at my—”
“Hush,” I said, placing a finger to his lips.
“Chris, I have to get ready for tonight!”
“You are ready. You’re staying home, right here, waiting for my return.”
“What? No! I want to go. Just look at my—”
“Craig, I think you should stay home tonight. I want to have some fun with Leatherman and Mitch and it’s hard when I’m distracted by you.”
“Chris, please, just look at my—”
I had crossed to the sock drawer and selected a white sock. “Now, I can make this unpleasant for you if I have to. It would only take my saying so for you to realize how the ropes seem to become just ever so tighter with each passing breath. Or I could point out to you that just the feeling of the cotton rope biting into your skin is making it very difficult for you to concentrate on anything other than the growing urgency in your cock. And you know that you can’t cum without permission.”
Sweat was beading up on Craig’s upper lip.
“Please just look at my—”
I gagged him with the white sock. “I don’t want to hear any more about it.” As I walked to the bathroom for a shower I had to admit somehow tying him up felt right.
I didn’t expect Andrew and Wade to be in the den when I walked downstairs in my boots and black slacks, shirtless. I had left the green silk shirt on my desk, and I intended to wear it tonight.
Andrew looked at me in surprise as I donned the shirt. I turned away from them as I buttoned it. There was no reason to show off my bare chest to them.
Once I was clothed I turned back around and gave Andrew a once over. Brown suede boots, broken-in blue jeans, a button-down plaid shirt. He stood with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops. Unfortunately the flat-top hadn’t grown out quite enough yet to do much with. But no matter, when he grinned and flashed those dimples he was adorable.
“You must do a lot of crunches,” Andrew said, his grin widening.
Wade nodded absently.
“Craig has decided to stay home tonight.”
“Is he okay?” Wade asked.
“He’s a little tied up in knots—with a headache. He’ll be all right.” I suppressed a grin. “Great boots, Andrew.”
He grinned again.
“Doesn’t he look good?” Wade asked. “I’m going to be with the hottest guy there tonight.”
Andrew turned bright red.
“Well, yes, technically you’ll be with me, I suppose,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Wade giggled.
We decided to take two cars, in case I wanted to return home early to check on Craig. I quickly drove to the Club, parked around back and knocked on the office door.
The former Leatherman was kneeling before me, clad solely in a leather thong. Whatever paces Mitch was putting him through was working to his benefit—he hadn’t looked this slender in years.
“How may I serve you, sir?” he asked.
It was a kick to watch the formerly domineering and manipulative Leatherman crawl around on his knees, groveling to serve. Sometimes it takes a bit longer to negotiate the correct Master-slave relationship. It seemed to me this one was working to everyone’s benefit. And all this formerly-known-as stuff was making my head spin more than trying to keep up with what Prince was currently calling himself. From now on this was Bootboy.
Now that that was settled I pulled a clack leather collar out of my pocket and held it at Bootboy’s eye-level. “Do you know what this is?”
“A dog collar, sir.”
“That’s right. And do you know what will happen when I place this dog collar around your neck, Bootboy?”
“No, sir.”
“Yes, you, do, Bootboy. You just don’t realize it. Don’t touch my ass.”
I sincerely doubted that after living as Mitch’s devoted boot-licking slave for the past few weeks he even needed his trigger for further conditioning, but why bother chancing it?
“I want you to picture all of the dog-training that Bootboy once had. It may not seem to you like it actually happened to you, but since you’re Bootboy, you now will realize that you have been trained as a dog. Picture how a dog walks, stands, sits, lies down, eats, and talks. Whenever you wear your dog collar you will be a Dog. You will be unable to move or speak as a boy. You know that it’s true because you remember Bootboy being a Dog whenever he wore his collar. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You will enjoy being a dog, Bootboy. You like having a Master, and dogs have Masters just like slaves do. You will be man’s best friend. And on all fours you will be closer to your Master’s boots. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Remember whenever you wear your dog collar you will BE a dog. Bootboy will not exist. You will become Bootdog.” I smiled. I liked that. “You’re a Bootdog.” I fastened the leather collar around his neck and stepped back. “You can feel the change overcoming your body. You are unable to speak or move as a boy. Once I count to three you will be a dog. 1...2...3.”
Bootdog looked up at me wide-eyed.
I patted his head. “Good boy.”
His jaw dropped open and he began to pant.
The door from the Club opened and Mitch walked in, dressed in leather pants and a leather vest. Much like Bootboy, it was time for him to assume the role of Leatherman permanently.
“Christopher,” he said, “I thought I might find you here. I saw Wade out front.”
He stopped short when he saw his slave on all fours, panting.
“I was just having some fun with your Bootdog.”
“Bootdog?” Leatherman looked surprised. “I’d nearly forgotten he was dog-trained!”
“I figured as much. I thought it was time to reinforce his training a bit.”
“Have a seat,” Leatherman said, gesturing to the leather couches. I sat on one; he sat across from me.
“Bootboy, clean my boots!” he commanded.
Bootboy scurried over on all fours and set to work licking Leatherman’s boots clean.
I watched, secure in the knowledge that Leatherman would probably regret his poor treatment of his slave the rest of his life. That is, if he ever got his life back.
“I’ve been thinking I’d like to have him tattooed,” Leatherman said.
That jarred me from my thoughts. Maybe Mitch had gotten a little too into his role. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. External markings make it very difficult to pass him off as a boy again should the need ever arise.”
“I hadn’t considered that, Christopher.” Leatherman watched his devoted slave spit-shining his boots. “Perhaps a piercing.”
I shrugged. Piercings had never really done anything for me. “It’d have to be somewhere that wouldn’t show.”
Leatherman’s eyes traveled over Bootboy’s back. “His cock?”
“I can’t imagine that’s all it’s cracked up to be.”
Leatherman shrugged. “Maybe a tongue-ring. I’ve wondered what that’d be like.”
I didn’t see any harm in it. “Up to you. I’m going to head out and find Mike. Let me know what you decide.”
He nodded.
“Bye, Bootdog.”
He let out a bark and returned to slathering his Master’s boots with his tongue.
I worked my way through the crowded Club, passing dancing, sweating, and prowling guys. If I didn’t have a lover tied up at home I’d definitely linger out here. But I wanted to say hi to Mike.
He was in his dressing room, shirtless and shoeless, wearing his white sailor pants.
I leaned against the doorjamb. “Looks like you cooled off since the last time I saw you.”
Mike looked up and smiled. “Hey, Christopher. Glad you made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Mike slipped on his shirt and stepped into his shoes in one fluid motion. “I’m running late. Can we talk after?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
He grinned. “Nick’s here.”
“Now I know why you’re running late without clothes...”
Mike looked innocent. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I swear. We’re taking it slow.”
“Okay. I better head out front. Break a leg.” I walked down the hall and back into the thudding bass of the club.
Nick was standing near the bar, looking annoyed and talking to a guy. The black spandex shirt he wore shimmered in the dim light of the bar. He must own a supply of spandex shirts. The longer I watched the less it looked like somebody trying to pick him up and the more it looked like they knew each other and were disagreeing. Something about their body language told me they were well-acquainted. Could it be that Nick wasn’t only seeing Mike?
The guy was handsome. He was the long-legged type, well over six feet tall, with dark hair. A pretty snappy dresser, too.
Once Nick stormed off I maneuvered my way over. This could be interesting.
“Are you a friend of Nick’s?” I asked.
Tall guy was eyeing me suspiciously. “Yeah.”
I thrust out my hand. “Christopher. You are?”
“Marty.” He leaned against the bar, trying to look casual. All he looked was out of place.
“You haven’t been out long, have you?”
“What?” he asked sharply.
“I’m sorry, it’s just obvious you’re not comfortable here.”
Marty scanned the room. Realization slowly dawned. Maybe it was the lack of women. Maybe it was the leather-clad men grinding together on the dancefloor. Maybe it was the guy giving the other guy a throat exam with his tongue not two feet from us.
“First time in a gay bar?” I asked.
He swore under his breath.
“Is that why Nick didn’t look happy to see you?”
“What’s he gotten into?”
I shrugged. Obviously Marty didn’t have the answers about Nick that I wanted. I had been under the mistaken impression that Nick was openly gay. This was a new development. Something was off here.
The hell with it for tonight. Craig was back at the house bound to a chair awaiting my return. He was probably ready to beg to cum by now. I’d make him sweat it out a bit longer.
I strode out the door into the cool night air. I wonder how Craig would look with rope around that throbbing cock of his. Maybe I’d leave him in that chair all night. More than anything it seemed like the thing to do.