Christopher & Craig
Part 37: Mike’s First Embarrassing Moment.
With Bootboy locked in the basement and Craig still tied to the oak tree, all was in place for Mike’s arrival.
I knew I had to send the former Mitch Driver home tonight, but I wasn’t ecstatic about the idea. He was no longer a free man, and if he should encounter anyone from Mitch’s life the consequences would be devastating. Plus, time alone in a dark basement could only prepare him for whatever Leatherman could throw at him.
Craig would have to be brought in soon. I knew he was enjoying being bound to the tree, but it was dark, the mosquitoes were out, and my beloved boy was horribly allergic to them.
I wandered out back and unknotted his ankles and wrists.
He leaned a bit unsteadily against the tree. His chest was covered in dry, sticky cum.
“Master, must you untie me?”
“For now, yes, Craig.” I caressed his cheek. “Maybe later I can tie you to something else.”
He beamed at me. “Oh, I hope so, Master.”
I smiled. It was nice to see him so happy. “Why don’t you go into the house and get a nice big drink of water. I don’t want my boy dehydrating. Then go upstairs and take a long shower. You can wait for me in my bedroom. No matter what, though, you may not come downstairs until I come for you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master!”
“Good boy. Now go.” I gave him a playful peck on the cheek, then he scurried into the house.
Mike arrived shortly after. He kicked off his sneakers inside the front door. He didn’t seem his usual happy-go-lucky self.
“Queer Pizza Boy,” I said.
He lapsed into his trance right there in the foyer. Mike was proving to be an easy subject. Which gave me all sorts of ideas. But they would have to wait awhile.
“Mike, what’s on your mind?”
“I had a bad day,” he said.
“You had a bad day,” I repeated. “At work?”
“No.”
“At home this morning?”
“No.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
That would’ve been my next guess. “After you left here?”
“Yes. I went out to a bar with a couple of the guys last night.”
“Doesn’t sound bad so far. What happened?”
“We had a few drinks. Charlie tried to pick up a couple girls. Then he and Bill came back to my place.”
“It sounds like you had a good time so far. What happened after you got home?”
He didn’t answer. Something was preventing him from telling me what had happened to him last night with the guys. The color was rising in his face.
“Breathe in and out, Mike... In and out... Relaxing... You and your friends got to your house... Then what?”
“I got undressed. Like I always do when I go home—” He stopped. His face was bright red and he looked physically uncomfortable.
I bit my lip. That was all my fault. I never gave him the instruction to only undress when he was home alone!
“Mike, take deep breaths. In and out. It’s all over now. It’s okay. You’re safe. What were you wearing?”
He was twitching and fidgeting. “A blue G-string and socks.”
“Every breath is relaxing you more and more, Mike. You feel completely safe here with me now. What did your friends do?”
“They made fun of me. They called me names and they asked me if I was queer and...”
I interrupted. “How did it make you feel?”
“I wanted to hide. Or just die right there. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t know what I was doing was wrong! I always get undressed when I go home”
I used my most soothing tone of voice. “Mike, relax. It’s okay. What you did was right. You like to show off your body. You like to take off your clothes. Don’t you?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“Mike, what your friends did to you is called humiliation. They made fun of you because they don’t understand. You don’t have to worry about what they think.”
“I don’t?”
“No. In fact, when they were making fun of you and calling you names your dick was rock hard. Don’t you remember that? You were standing there in your blue G-string with your cock bulging. You remember that, don’t you, Mike?” “Yes.” “Of course you do. Because the more embarrassed they made you feel the harder your cock grew. It turned you on sexually to be made fun of. And since it was your friends—people you’ll have to face again and who will never be able to look at you again without thinking of the night you got undressed and stood in your blue G-string and socks in front of them—you were even more embarrassed. And that embarrassment excited you. You liked it a lot. Your face turned red. You wanted to hide. You felt humiliated. They called you names. Your cock throbbed. You wanted to cum. They asked if you were queer. Queer Pizza Boy. Just thinking about it now your cock is hard. Isn’t it, Mike? Your cock is hard. Say it and know that it’s true.”
“My cock is hard.”
“That’s very good. Mike, why don’t you unzip your pants and let your cock free? It’s okay. You can get undressed here.”
He unzipped his khakis and they slid down his thighs. The outline of his cock was visible through his boxers, pointing at his chin.
“Mike, when do you get a day off from work?”
“I’m off tomorrow and the next day.”
Perfect!
“That’s very good. Why don’t we go into the den?”
I walked down the hall and Mike semi-waddled after me, his pants falling down around his ankles as he went. I sat in my chair and he stood nearby. I spoke very slowly and very softly to him.
“Michael, there’s a strange and wonderful power in this room. You can feel it. It’s all around you. It’s above your head... Under your feet... In the air all around you... It’s taking control of your thoughts and your feelings... Your body and mind... It’s a power you’ve never felt before. It tingles like electricity. It makes every part of your body feel alive. Can you feel it, Mike?”
He stood, breathing in and out, listening to my words. “Yes.”
“It’s emanating from you, Mike. But not from all of you. From the most powerful part of you. It’s emanating from your cock. And it’s magnetic. You can feel its pull. Your hand is drawn to it. You cannot resist. Your hand is being pulled to your cock...”
I watched as his right hand drifted slowly toward his stiff cock.
“You reach inside your boxers... Under the G-string... Your fingers are wrapping around your cock... They feel natural like this. Your cock is a magnet and your hand is stuck to it, Michael. And now your hand is beginning to move... Slowly at first... Up and down... Up and down... Breathe in and out... In and out... Your hand is stroking your cock. You can’t control it. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.”
I watched as he stroked his cock. What a show, even through the boxers. And all because I told him to.
“The longer your hand strokes your cock the less you think about it. You don’t even realize you’re stroking your cock. Your hand just does it. It has always done it. It will always do it. That’s what your hand is for. It is ruled by your cock. You stroke up and down... up and down... Your hand is stuck to your cock and it can’t let go. Your fingers are held in place as if they were glued... They are glued there. Your cum is glue, Mike. And every time you cum it will stick your fingers harder in place. They will stroke your cock... Up and down... Up and down... Each time cumming more glue and sticking your fingers to your cock. You know this is true and that this is right. You know you must stroke your cock. You know you can’t stop it. You can’t stop it, Mike. Say it.”
“I can’t stop it.”
“Say it again and know that it is true.”
“I can’t stop it.”
“Michael, when I count to three you will awaken. And you’ll go home and go about your usual routine... Go to bed... Get up tomorrow... Have your usual day off. You will come here at six o’clock. Do you understand?”
“Yes...” He was enjoying the sensation at his cock.
That would change.
“Remember, Michael, you can’t stop stroking your cock until I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy. Pull up your pants.”
He fumbled with his khakis with his left hand, clumsily pulling them up over his legs, over his cock and right hand.
I helped him fasten them.
His right hand remained down his pants, stroking his cock.
“You will return tomorrow at six, Mike. 1...2...3.”
Mike looked at me expectantly.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
I walked him to the door. He shoved his feet in his sneakers.
“Six o’clock?” he asked.
“That’d be great,” I replied.
I watched him walk to his car.
His hand never stopped moving in his pants.
To be continued in Part 38...
Christopher & Craig
Part 38: Leatherman’s Bootboy.
Bootboy arrived promptly at 7 pm and removed his boots. He stood in front of me in a royal blue singlett and white socks, holding a duffel bag.
I had sent him home very late the previous evening with instructions to not talk to anyone. In his present condition I didn’t think sending him into the world of Mitch Driver was wise. He couldn’t function as that person anymore. He was to get some sleep and pack his belongings, then return here tonight.
I took the bag from him and rummaged around inside. It contained spandex and socks. Nothing more, nothing less.
He followed me into the den. I had his dog collar on my desk, and I placed it in the bag, then zipped it.
“How do you feel, Bootboy?”
“Good, Master.”
“What would you like to do?”
“Serve you, Master.”
“That’s a good boy. Give me your keys and your wallet, boy.”
He handed me both items without a second’s thought. Tomorrow I would go to his home and see to any loose ends. He’d be away for a while.
“Sit on the couch.”
He did.
“Polish your boots.”
His head drooped forward; his body went slack.
“Breathing in and out. So relaxed, Bootboy. So relaxed and so ready to serve. And you will get to serve. For one year you will get to be the mindless, cock-sucking, spandex-wearing, boot-licking, ass-shaking, shaved fag that you desire to be. You will serve your Master with your entire body. You will live to please him. You will worship his cock and boots. You will follow his commands without question or thought. You need to serve your Master. There is no other reason for you to live. You will eat when he feeds you, sleep when he tells you, and cum when he allows you. Do you understand all of this?”
“Yes, Master!”
“That’s very good, Bootboy. I’ve enjoyed our time together. But it’s time for you to begin your new life with your new Master. He won’t be able to put you in this state. Only I can do that. You only go to this place of relaxation when you hear me say ‘polish your boots.’ Nobody else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You’ll be a good Bootboy.” I sighed. Mitch Driver had left the building. He was replaced by this smooth stud in spandex whose only purpose was to worship boots and cock. It was kind of a waste of a man. Mitch could’ve been so much more. Even as a slave. But this was what Leatherman required. So this was the Bootboy I’d created.
“Keep breathing in and out, Bootboy. You feel so calm. So completely relaxed.”
I left him in the state of total programmability and went to wait at the door. Leatherman was due at 7:30 and it was nearly that time.
I heard his truck pull into the driveway. I opened the door before he rang the bell. As usual he was clad in leather pants and a black T-shirt. He wore the look of anticipation of a young child on Christmas morning.
“Christopher, I can’t wait to see him. Where is he?”
I stepped outside and shut the door. “Hold on a minute. There are a few things you need to know before you can take possession of your slave. First of all is the condition we discussed. One year from tonight he must be brought back here or he’ll revert to his former personality. Is that clear?”
“Yes. But I don’t understand it.”
“It doesn’t matter if you understand it. We’ve taken everything away from him—his girlfriend, his career, his personality—to make him meet your requirements for a boy. You have to live with only one condition. It’s more than a fair trade. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” He patted my ass.
I sighed.
“He’s trained as you asked. His spandex is all in a bag—he’ll wear spandex and socks. And boots if you allow it. His dog collar is also in the bag. He’ll live as a dog whenever it’s on his neck.”
Leatherman was beaming.
“He no longer has free will. He’ll follow any orders you give him—within reason—and he’ll worship your cock and boots.”
“Where is he?” Leatherman asked eagerly.
“In the den. There is one thing left to do with you here.”
“Okay. Whatever it is let’s do it!”
“I should probably mention one other thing. He has no recollection of Mitch Driver. If you mention Mitch he won’t know who you’re talking about and he won’t answer to that name.” Leatherman’s brow furrowed. “What’s his name then?”
“Bootboy.”
His eyes shone. I couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this happy.
“Come into the den. But don’t say a word or he’ll never recognize you as his Master.”
Leatherman clamped his lips shut and nodded.
I opened the front door and ushered Leatherman inside.
There was a hiss of sucked in air when Leatherman saw Bootboy. It was lust at first sight.
“Bootboy,” I said, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes...Master...”
“Good. I’m going to count to three and you will awaken. And you will follow all the commands I’ve given you. All the programming you have received will be a part of you now. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You will follow your Master’s instructions and you will live to serve him.”
“Yes, Master!”
I flashed a grin at Leatherman. “Why will you do that? What are you, boy?”
“I’m a mindless, spandex-wearing, cock-sucking bootboy!”
Leatherman’s jaw dropped open.
I reached over and closed his mouth. In his ear I whispered, “Unzip your pants.”
“What?” he hissed in my ear.
“Do it. Now.”
“Christopher—”
I ignored him. “Bootboy, soon you will feel your Master’s cock in your mouth. It will taste better than anything you’ve ever had in your mouth. You will hunger for it. You will serve it as only you can. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir!” Leatherman looked uncertain. But he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. It was rock hard. “Open your mouth, Bootboy.” He did.
I nodded at Leatherman.
He stepped in front of the boy and brushed his lips with his cock.
Bootboy took him inside. “When I count three you will awaken, Bootboy. And the cock in your mouth will belong to your new Master. Do you understand?”
His “Yes, Master” was muffled by the cock in his mouth.
“I’ll see you here a year from tonight. Right, Leatherman?”
He nodded vigorously. Bootboy had already begun to please him.
“1...2...3.”
Fully awake Bootboy went down on Leatherman and in minutes Leatherman shot in his mouth. Bootboy licked him clean. When he was done Leatherman zipped up his pants.
Bootboy sat awaiting instructions.
“Remember to praise him when he’s good,” I said. “And tell him how to serve you.”
Leatherman grinned. “That was very good, Bootboy.”
“Thank you, Master.” Bootboy looked at him with adoration.
“Bootboy, remember you may ask how to serve your Master,” I said.
“How may I serve you, Master?” he said, as programmed.
Leatherman looked at me.
I looked down at his leather boots.
He nodded. “Polish my boots, Bootboy.”
“Yes, sir, Master!”
Bootboy dropped to the floor and began licking Leatherman’s boots clean.
“Well?” I asked.
“I don’t know what to say, Christopher. You’re a genius! He’s amazing. Even better than I expected. And he looks great!”
“Take him home and let him adjust to his new Master and new life. If he needs a few modifications just let me know. And give me a call to let me know how he settles in.”
Bootboy was oblivious to our conversation, mesmerized by the task of spit-shining his Master’s boots.
“I’ll call you tomorrow!”
“Remember, you have to tell him what to do. And tell him when he’s good.”
“I will. Thank you, Christopher.”
I shook his proffered hand.
“You’re welcome. Treat him well.”
“I will.” He turned to the boy. “You may stop.”
Bootboy got to his knees.
Leatherman admired his handiwork. “You did very well, Bootboy. I’m going to take you home now.”
Bootboy stood.
“Get your bag,” I said.
He did. Then he walked to the door and put on his boots.
“You can decide about the boots,” I repeated. “He’s not allowed to wear them here. And his collar is in the bag.”
“It’s amazing. He’s nothing like the day he walked into my club. If I didn’t know what you had done I wouldn’t think he was the same guy. He’s perfect!”
“One year,” I repeated.
“Okay, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He patted my ass and headed for the door and his waiting slave.
“Come, Bootboy, he said.
Bootboy shuddered. A wet spot grew on the front of his singlett.
I laughed. “You might want to say ‘follow me’ or ‘here.’”
Leatherman turned. “He cums on command?”
“And only with permission.”
“This is going to be so much fun!”
“Don’t abuse him, Leatherman. He’s still a man. Whether he can think for himself or not.”
“I know!”
“Keep it in mind. Goodnight.” I stroked Bootboy’s cheek. “Goodbye, Bootboy. I’ll see you in a year.”
“Goodbye, sir.”
I watched them climb into the truck before I shut the door.
I would miss Mitch.
Maybe he could visit.