Christopher & Craig
Part 27: Mike’s First Session
At twenty minutes past eight the doorbell rang. I answered it.
Mike stood on my doorstep, rocking nervously back and forth on his feet. He still wore his pizza shop uniform—cap, button-down shirt, khakis, sneakers.
“Hi, Mike,” I said warmly. “Come on in.”
He stepped in a bit uncertainly.
“You seem nervous,” I said.
He forced a shy smile. “I guess I am. I’m not really sure why I came back here.”
“Queer Pizza Boy,” I said.
He hesitated, wavering.
I repeated the trigger phrase. He slowly relaxed, his shoulders lowering a bit.
“Mike, can you hear me okay?”
“Yes.” His voice had that somewhat hollow, far-away sound that boys’ voices seemed to acquire when they slipped under.
“You no longer feel nervous about being here. You like coming here. Do you understand?
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I like coming here.”
“That’s good. As you say it you know that it becomes true for you. Say it again.”
“I like coming here.” The corners of his mouth turned up a little.
“1...2...3.”
Mike was smiling at me now. He had a great smile. I wondered what he’d look like wearing only that smile. “Come on into the den.”
He followed me off the foyer.
“Have a seat on the couch. Make yourself comfortable, Mike.”
He sat at the end of the couch, hands between his knees. He was going along with me, but he was tentative at best.
“Queer Pizza Boy. Relax. Breathe deeply... Slowly... In and out... In and out... Feeling more relaxed with each breath... More relaxed with each word you hear. Remember, each time you hear me say Queer pizza Boy you feel more relaxed than the last.”
His chest rose and fell evenly as he sat huddled on the couch.
“Mike, it is very easy for you to listen to my voice. Very easy for you to do what I tell you. You want to do what I tell you. Say it. And as you say it it becomes true for you. You want to do what I tell you.”
“I want to do what you tell me.”
“That’s right. Very good. Breathe in and out. Mike, take off your cap.”
His right arm rose from his lap and plucked the cap off his head. His blond hair was matted down in places.
I leaned across the space between us and took the cap from him. I sat back and hung it on my knee.
“Relax your arms, Mike.”
He settled more on the couch, arms at his sides.
“Mike, I am going to ask you a few questions. You will answer them as honestly as you can. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your full name?”
“Michael Taylor.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Good. Each question you answer makes you feel more relaxed. It’s so easy to answer my questions. So easy to tell the truth. Do you work at the Pizza Shoppe?”
“Yes.”
“Do you go to school?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“SUNY.”
“Very good.” I always begin with easy, fact-based questions. It helps to build trust before jumping to more personal details. The answers remain more truthful that way. “Are you heterosexual?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“We broke up last month.”
“When is the last time you had sex?”
“Last month.”
“Relax. Breathe in and out. Have you ever been attracted to a man?”
“No,” he stated flatly.
“Never found a man handsome?”
He hesitated.
“Have you ever thought a guy looked good?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. That’s right, mike. Guys look good. Say it.”
“Guys look good.”
I checked my watch. That was as much as I’d dare the first night. “Do you work tomorrow, Mike?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“One to nine.”
“At nine o’clock you will leave work and drive here. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I will count to three and you will awaken. When you awaken you will feel fully alert and refreshed. You will not remember anything that happened or anything we talked about. But your subconscious mind will know that when I say Queer Pizza Boy you will relax even more. Do you understand all of the instructions I have given you, Mike?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any questions?”
“No.”
“Good. 1...2...3.”
Mike opened his eyes and sat up straighter. His tongue darted over his lips.
“Well, thanks for stopping by, Mike. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow?” he repeated.
I nodded. “I thought you said after nine. Maybe I’m mistaken. That’s okay...”
“No,” he said, sounding unsure of himself. “I’ll stop by after work.”
“Great.” I showed him to the door, knowing the unspoken question on his mind was WHY?
To be continued in Part 28...
Christopher & Craig
Part 28: Friday
The details of last night with Craig after Mike left are too exciting and personal to relate here. Which, after detailing the mind games I’ve been playing with handsome, unsuspecting men, probably seems absurd. Just trust me.
I had a full schedule on Friday, beginning with a breakfast meeting across town. I sent Craig down to the basement while I showered.
When I emerged from my bedroom I was dressed to leave. Downstairs I found Craig in the den.
“I see you found what I was talking about.” I had sent him to find one of the straight-back chairs that went to my old dining room set.
“Yes, Master!” he nodded proudly.
“Sit on the chair, Craig.”
I took off my suit jacket and draped it over the back of the couch. I picked up the length of clothesline from where it had been cast aside yesterday.
“Hands behind your back, slave!” I snapped playfully.
I quickly bound his wrists behind the chair. Then I shoved the rope under the chair and bound his ankles together, pulling the rope taut until his feet were stretched back under the chair.
“You wanted to be tied. Be careful what you wish for, my boy.”
“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” he said.
I shrugged on my jacket and straightened my tie. “Goodbye, Craig.”
I picked up my briefcase and left.
Lunchtime I was near Leatherman’s club so I decided to drop in on him. He was happy to see me.
“Christopher! I wondered when I’d hear from you.”
I walked past him into his office.
He grabbed my ass.
I sighed as I sat on one of his leather couches. I should have just called.
“Is my slave ready?”
“Almost. You’re going to be very pleased when you see him.”
He jumped on that. “When can I see him?”
“In about a week.”
“That long?”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “Where else could you place an order for a trained cock-sucking bootboy slave and receive delivery in under a month?”
“Is he trained?”
“Just about.”
“And he’ll follow my commands?”
“Within reason.” There was no way I would give Leatherman complete control. He’d destroy Mitch if given the chance. “A slave is not a toy, you know. You’ll have to take care of him.”
“I will.”
“Oh, and there is one catch.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “You never mentioned a catch before.”
“It isn’t much of one. But in one year you’ll have to bring Mitch back to me.”
“Why?”
“Because at that time if you don’t he’ll revert to the untrained Detective Driver.”
“Christopher!”
I held up my hands. “That’s the catch. You can’t own a human without a catch. The slaves were freed, Leatherman.”
From Leatherman’s expression it was clear he was not happy about that. I hadn’t expected him to be. He slapped his thighs. The leather pants amplified the sound. “And you can keep him a slave at that point?”
“We’ll talk about that when the time comes.”
“Christopher! A year wasn’t out deal.”
“We never set a time frame.”
“But you have your boy.”
“And I’m continually supervising and adjusting his programming,” I replied. “You have no knowledge of how to provide maintenance on a slave.” I was saying it and I wasn’t believing it.
Apparently, however, Leatherman was. Then again, if he could believe I was able to make over Mitch into his slave, this shouldn’t sound anywhere near as outlandish.
Come to think of it, reverting to the untrained Detective Driver had possibilities. I started working out scenarios in my mind. It would be tricky, but it could be done. After all, I had done it with Craig...
“What?” he asked. “What is it?”
I focused on Leatherman. “I think I’ve just figured out how to get Mitch out of his job without suspicion.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Do you want the police looking for him?”
“That’s how we found him.”
“Leatherman, don’t be stupid,” I snapped.
“You can’t order me around, Christopher. I’m not one of your slaves.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
His defiance crumbled. “What?”
“You of all people should know I can control a man without his knowing”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t push me, Leatherman. I’ve done a lot of work on Mitch for you.”
He glowered at me. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m just anxious to get him.”
“I know.” I checked my watch. “And I have a meeting to get to. I’ll be in touch next week to set up pick-up.” I headed for the door.
“Okay. Thanks, Christopher.” He patted my ass again.
One of these days I really would put him under and put an end to that.
An afternoon full of meetings delayed my return home until almost seven. Mitch would be arriving soon. And I still had Craig to deal with.
I unlocked the front door and walked to the den. Craig sat, bound to the chair, his chin drooping forward.
I walked around him and unknotted the rope at his hands.
He awoke with a start. “Master! How may I serve you?”
I squatted and untied his ankles. “Rest a moment, my pet. Freeze your feet.”
“My white socks.”
“Freeze you—”
“My white socks, Master.”
Master looked confused.
“Think about my white socks, Master. You like that. Thank you for tying me up, Master. Will you tie me up again?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“Master, aren’t you too hot with your suit on? You want to take off your jacket.”
Master slipped off his jacket. It fell to the floor.
“You want to take off your shirt and tie, Master.”
He loosened his tie and pulled it off over his head. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the floor.
“Master, you don’t want to wear shoes. I hate shoes. My white socks.”
Master kicked off his dress shoes.
“Master, wouldn’t you feel better if you take your pants off?
He unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and dropped them to the floor. He stepped out of them and stood in his black dress socks, boxers, and T-shirt.
“Master, don’t you want to take off your T-shirt?”
He pulled the T-shirt over his head.
“Think of my white socks, Master. Your socks aren’t white. Take them off.”
Master peeled off his socks. Now he stood in just his boxers.
“Master, thank you for tying me up. Can we have sex? Don’t you want to?” I stood up and moved to walk toward him.
My feet were stuck. I couldn’t move!
I didn’t ever think what would happen if Master told me to do something before I tried this. I really wanted Master to have sex with me. I had been thinking about how happy I would make him all day while I was tied to the chair. Now I would have to wake him up.
“My white socks. Kiss me, Master.”
Master took me in his arms and kissed me long and hard. I could feel his hard cock press against mine. I didn’t want to wake him up. I wanted to please him. I pulled away.
“Master, you want to get dressed.”
He put his suit back on and stood in front of me. It was sad to watch him put clothes back on. Master has a nice body. I love him. I hope he doesn’t get mad at me.
“Master, this was all a dream.” I sat back down. “Wake up, Master.”
Master said something I didn’t hear. I tried to ask him how I could serve him. But I couldn’t talk anymore.
I heard the doorbell and Master left me alone.