Christopher & Craig
Part 41: Let’s Go To The Videotape.
Late Thursday afternoon I stretched out on the couch in the den and made myself comfortable. It was rare that I was the one on this couch. But I had made that tape of Craig and I finally had a chance to watch it.
I crossed my ankles and pressed play.
The picture on the television was a wide shot of this very room. Craig and I were kissing. I watched as on TV I worked my way behind his neck with my mouth.
I slid his T-shirt off over his head.
He knelt before me. “MAY I SERVE YOU, MASTER?”
I unbuckled my belt.
Craig walked into the den, wearing briefs and socks. “How may I serve you, Master?”
“Freeze your tongue, boy. I’m watching TV.”
Craig on TV was pulling my jeans down. He began to kiss my cock.
“THINK OF MY WHITE SOCKS, MASTER.”
Master stared at the TV screen.
So did I. I was on TV. Master must’ve videoed us the other day. I tried to wake him up.
I couldn’t speak!
“DO YOU LIKE TO LOOK AT MY WHITE SOCKS, MASTER?”
“YES...CRAIG...” Master said it now and on TV.
“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO BLOW YOU, MASTER?”
“YES...CRAIG...” Again they both said it.
I hurried over to the couch and knelt by my Master. I opened his pants.
Master was smiling as I went down on him.
“MASTER, THINK OF MY WHITE SOCKS. DO YOU WANT TO CUM?”
“Yes...Craig.”
“DO YOU WANT TO TIE ME UP?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“TIE ME UP MASTER. TIE ME UP TODAY. TIE ME UP TIGHT AND DON’T LET ME GO. I WANT TO SERVE YOU, MASTER. I WANT TO BE YOUR ONLY BOY.”
I reached for the VCR remote and pressed pause.
Master was breathing hard. I was licking his balls. Master was ready to shoot.
I stopped licking his hard cock. I pressed play.
“WILL YOU KEEP ME TIED UP, MASTER?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“ALL THE TIME?”
“Yes...Craig...”
I pressed rewind. “WILL YOU KEEP ME TIED UP, MASTER?”
“Yes...Craig...”
I rewound it again. “WILL YOU KEEP ME TIED UP, MASTER?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“ALL THE TIME?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“THANK YOU, MASTER. DO YOU WANT TO CUM, MASTER?”
“Yes...Craig...”
“CUM, MASTER.”
I pressed pause and dropped the remote.
Master pumped cum in my mouth.
I love serving my Master’s cock. I love my Master.
I licked him clean then fastened his pants. I wanted to ask him to do more things to me like yesterday, but I couldn’t talk, so I pressed play.
“WAKE UP, MASTER.”
Craig was kneeling beside me watching the tape.
I watched as on TV I pulled up my pants and led him out of the room.
When had I pulled down my pants?
I hit stop.
I wanted to tie Craig to something. I looked around the room. There was nothing in here.
Then I had an idea. “Go to the basement, Craig.”
He obeyed wordlessly.
I retrieved the rope from the service porch and met him downstairs. One day I was going to straighten up down here and make some sort of playroom or gym. For now it was mostly a storage area with boxes and cast off furniture.
And my old dining room set.
“Lie on the table, Craig,” I commanded.
He did.
It was a small table, and his knees dangled off the edge.
I pulled his right wrist down to the nearest table leg and tied it in place. Then I stretched his left arm to that leg and tied it. I walked to his left foot and bound his ankle to the leg it dangled near. Then I spread his right leg and fastened that ankle in place.
When I was finished he was spread-eagled on the table, tied down and helpless.
My cock jumped in my pants.
Craig’s own cock was straining against his briefs.
It was warm and a little musty down here. And Craig wasn’t going anywhere. I wanted to go upstairs and see what I’d missed when he walked into the den. Somehow I had unzipped my pants yesterday. I didn’t recall doing it.
“I’ll be back for you, Craig,” I said, and left him.
I returned to the den and pressed rewind. Craig was going down on me in reverse. I didn’t remember seeing any of that before. Or him doing it yesterday. What was going on?
I pressed play.
“THINK OF MY WHITE SOCKS, MASTER...”
On TV I pulled up my pants and led Craig out of the room.
My pants felt damp.
I had cum in them.
What the hell?
I pressed rewind. Craig went down on me in reverse.
I pressed play as Craig was unzipping my jeans. I muted the sound.
On TV Craig went down on me. But I had no memory of that happening yesterday. Or of seeing it today. What was going on?
I could see my mouth moving. I was talking to Craig. Was I commanding him what to do?
I turned up the sound.
“MASTER, THINK OF MY WHITE SOCKS. DO YOU WANT TO CUM?”
On TV I pulled up my pants.
I hit the stop button.
I had cum again.
Panic rose in my chest, squeezing, making it hard for me to breathe.
I couldn’t watch the tape again. I knew the same thing would happen.
I would cum and not remember it.
Somehow, someway, Craig had learned to hypnotize me.
And he was doing it when he blew me.
I wanted to see him tied up. I walked toward the basement door. I stopped and grabbed the doorjamb.
That was why I suddenly felt so good about tying up Craig. He had hypnotized me! Who knows for how long? Or what else he made me do? My boy, my pet, my slave was controlling me, having me tie him up.
I ran down the stairs to the basement.
“My shoes are tight!”
Craig’s head lolled to the side.
“Unfreeze your tongue. Craig, have you been hypnotizing me?”
“Yes, Master,” he replied innocently.
I felt betrayed. I felt confused. I felt angry.
“Why?” I demanded.
“To tie me up. You always told me to think of being tied up but you never tied me up, Master.”
“Did you do anything else?” I snapped.
“No, Master.”
“How did you learn to do this?”
“Watching you, Master. Mitch did everything you wanted and you seemed to like it a lot so I just asked you to tie me up. Don’t you like tying me up, Master?”
“Yes...No! I don’t know.” I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. I needed to think. What was I going to do about this? My own slave had been hypnotizing me. If anyone knew I’d be a laughingstock.
There was only one recourse: Craig had to be punished. But how? And what would I do to prevent it from happening again? I didn’t know the trigger he used. And if I asked for it he would put me under!
I forced myself to remain calm. I took several deep breaths.
I knew what had to be done for today. I ran up the stairs two at a time to Craig’s closet and grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater.
In the den I unlocked my bottom desk drawer and pulled out Craig’s scuffed brown loafers. I tossed them on the couch.
I went to the basement and untied him. He was still in his deep trance state. “Follow me to the den.”
Upstairs I had him dress in the jeans and sweater. Except for the blonde spiky hair he looked as he had when he first came here.
“Sit on the couch.”
He did.
“I will count to three, Craig. And when I do you will awaken. When you awaken you will not be able to remove your shoes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” He sounded disappointed, even in this state.
“Your feet have become stuck to your shoes. You will not remove them for any reason. Say it.”
“ I will not remove them for any reason.”
I picked up each of his feet and thrust his white socks into the brown loafers. My heart was racing.
My Craig would cease to exist for now.
“1...2...3.”
Craig Matthews opened his eyes.
He seemed a bit disoriented. “Christopher?”
“Yes. Hi, I thought you’d sleep all day.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t worry about it. You should get home anyway. I have an appointment later.”
“Oh.” He looked disappointed.
Not half as disappointed as I felt. What was I going to do?
I walked Craig to the door.
“Can I call you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said without thinking.
He smiled. “I’ll talk to you later, Christopher!”
He walked out the door.
I shut it. I had a lot of thinking to do.
To be continued in Part 42...
Christopher & Craig
Part 42: Naughty Mike.
Craig had been gone less than two hours and I already missed him. But I felt this sense of betrayal at being commanded by my own slave. I had let my guard down with him and he had exploited my weakness. I had to decide what to do with him.
But Mike arrived and he had to be dealt with first. And while I had him under I didn’t have to think of Craig...
Mike was in much better spirits today, and apparently much more comfortable. I had him under and had already reinforced his desire to workout everyday. I didn’t intend to make him a gym rat, but he needed to tone up a bit before making his stripping debut.
Tonight, though, I had other plans for my Queer Pizza Boy.
“Mike, I want you to think back to when you were a child. Were you a good boy then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Always?”
“No, sir.”
“Sometimes you were a naughty boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What would happen when you were a naughty boy? Would you get punished?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What was your punishment?”
“I would get spanked.”
“Really?” This was better than I’d expected. “Mike, I want you to remember something else. You’re at your apartment with your friends. You take off your clothes. Go ahead.”
He stood and quickly shucked off his shirt and khakis and boxers. He stood in a green G-string and white socks.
“I want you to remember their reactions. See the looks on their faces. Hear what they said.”
I watched as his face grew redder. He held his hands in front of the bulge in his G-string. He looked ashamed.
“How do you feel, Mike?”
“Embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“They’re making fun of me. They think what I’m doing is wrong.”
“Is it wrong?” He paused. “Yes, sir.” “So what you’re doing is wrong. Do good boys do things that are wrong?” “No, sir.”
“So you’re a naughty boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What happens when you’re a naughty boy?”
“I get spanked.”
“Come here, boy.”
He hesitated.
“Get across my knee, boy!” I snapped.
He ran over and lay across my knees.
I slapped his ass. Not hard. Just enough to let him feel it.
“You’re a bad boy,” I said. “And you like it. You like being a bad boy. You like feeling naughty. You like how the embarrassment of being caught makes you feel. You feel dirty. And you like the way it makes your cock hard. You like being spanked. That makes your cock even harder. You want to be bad. You want to be spanked. It feels just like sex to you. Doesn’t it?”
I slapped his ass again.
“You like being spanked. Say it and know it’s true, Mike.” I slapped his ass.
“I like being spanked.” “Again.” Another slap.
“I like being spanked.”
“Again!” Another.
“I like being spanked!”
“Again!” And another.
“I like being spanked!” he screamed.
I slapped him one last time. “Cum, Mike.”
His body trembled in my lap as he shot his load.
I stroked his hair. “That’s a good boy. You did as you were told. You only cum when I tell you now. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Say it.”
“I only cum when you tell me.”
“And?”
“And I like being spanked.”
“Ask for it.”
“Sir?”
“Ask for what you want, boy!”
“Spank me?” His voice was timid.
“Is that how you ask for something you want?”
“Spank me!”
“Beg for what you want, boy.”
“Please spank me?”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Mike. It’s okay. You’ve had enough for tonight. Soon you’ll be willing to plead for what you need. You won’t cum until you do. I can guarantee that, boy. And your desire to cum will feed your desire to be spanked. You want to be spanked. You’re a naughty boy. You like to take off your clothes in front of people. That’s naughty. You should be embarrassed. You can’t stop yourself from taking off your clothes. And it’s bad. You’re bad. You should be spanked. And you know it. Soon you’ll beg for it. You’ll have no choice.”
I stopped stroking his hair.
“Get dressed.”
He did. When he was done I continued.
“You’re a bad boy now, Mike. You get a thrill out of showing your body off to men. And you know it’s wrong. Which only makes it feel better. You’re bad. You should feel humiliated. You should be punished. Bad boys get spanked. So you should be spanked.”
Mike looked miserable. I was really doing a number on him. I had gone too far tonight. I’d have to back off. He wasn’t ready to be pushed this hard. And I was taking out my anger at Craig on him. That wasn’t right. But Mike had leanings toward enjoying humiliation. And I wanted to explore those. I’d never encountered a boy like him before. I’d humiliate him. And he’d learn to be a good boy.
But first he’d be bad.
“When I count three you’ll awaken, Mike. And you’ll want to undress in front of men. And you’ll know you shouldn’t. And that will make you feel bad. You’ll feel ashamed. You’ll know it’s wrong. But you’ll only want to do it more. And then you’ll know you should be punished. You know bad boys get spanked. You’ll want to be spanked. And you’ll just keep thinking about it. You want to undress and you want to be spanked. Because you’re a bad boy. 1...2...3.”
Mike got to his feet. He looked at me sheepishly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mike.”
He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “Okay.”