The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Coffee Shop V: Happiness Is A Handsome Hypnotized Hunk

Chapter 5. Shopping on a Saturday

After that Friday night of turmoil at Jack and Steve’s place, crawling into bed with Andy and holding him was a welcome balm to sooth the hurts and welts that covered my emotional hide. We were both too tired to do more than snuggle and cuddle. You’re probably wondering when we had sex. Well, keep wondering. There are some things, dear reader, which I will never tell. I will say, though, that a orgasm sure makes you forget about your troubles and worries for a while.

Saturday morning arrived to find Andy and me struggling out of bed to the alarm clock 6:30 am warning. Andy had to work a shift for the entire weekend starting at 8 o’clock, and I had to get ready for some unwanted help which was due to arrive at 9 o’clock sharp. I grumbled about Andy having to work the weekend, as we ate breakfast, me in a robe and Andy in his day uniform. Andy had to leave first so he got dibs on the shower. If we had showered together Andy would have definitely been late for work. I smiled to myself as I thought about another adventure with Andy in the shower.

“You’re going to be okay today, aren’t you?” Andy asked me in between mouthfuls of breakfast cereal, as he rushed to get ready for his shift.

“I’ll be just fine,” I answered him. I looked down at him, as I poured him another large glass of orange juice. I bent over and kissed his right cheek, briefly. Andy paused for a second, gulped down the food that was in his mouth and pushed away from the breakfast table. He reached out, grabbed me, and before I knew it I found myself sitting in his lap. An eye blink later, I found myself smothered by one of Andy’s breathtaking passionate kisses, with his big strong muscled arms wrapped about my torso pressing my bathrobe clad body against his neatly pressed uniform shirt. I melted into the passion of the moment. (What else was I going to do? Go and take my morning shower? Get real, dear reader!) A few heartbeats later, Andy ended the kiss and unwrapped his arms from about me. I struggled to my feet, as I caught my breath. I beamed at him. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Andy’s kisses have that effect on me, they short out my brain temporarily. Take it from me, it’s a great feeling.

“Can I trust you alone with a good looking guy in a suit and tie, for an entire day?” Andy asked mischievously. “I know how much you like good looking guys in suits and ties, and this guy a hunk. Why is he coming over so early anyway? I thought he wasn’t supposed to show up until noon. What happened to that plan?”

“When he called last weekend and I cancelled that weekend, I told him to come over at nine o’clock today. I wanted him to start early, just in case I want him to drive me about town. Besides, that way I’ll have Sunday free to spend with you, dear heart,” I answered with a smile. “As for you trusting me with this guy, you are forgetting one very important fact,” I hinted.

“Which is?” Andy asked, taking the bait.

“He’s not you,” I answered with a smile. “Come on, Andy, I’m only doing this because I can’t get out of it. It has to be done for his mental well being. I’m sacrificing my entire Saturday.”

“A good looking guy, all dressed up in a suit and tie, is coming over here, and he will do anything you tell him to, without question or hesitation. Yes, I can see how that would be a hardship on you,” Andy said, with an arched eyebrow, and a smirk on his face.

“Damn it, Andy! It’s not like that at all, and you damn well know it!” I yelled at him, in a sudden fit of temper. It was not like me to blow up at Andy like that. Now the truth would have to come out. I couldn’t keep it hidden from Andy any longer.

“Hey, Texas, hold on. I was only teasing,” Andy said as he raised his hands in front of his chest to ward off my temper. A look of concern tinged with worried replaced the smirk on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about it.”

I looked at Andy sitting there as I got hold of my temper and did my best to calm down. “It’s not your fault, dear heart. I never told you exactly what happened to those four guys,” I said quietly.

“I never asked because I thought that if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me,” Andy said softly. “You can tell me now. I have time. Maybe you should tell me, before this gentleman arrives.”

“You know that there was a fight between me and those four men, right?” I asked as my mind went back to events of several months ago.

“It wasn’t a physical fight, as I recall,” Andy answered. “I’m guessing that it was some type of mental fight that has to do with those super hypnosis powers of yours.”

“Yes, it was mental combat. It was forced, a test for me arranged by the Council of Coins. I don’t know exactly how I did what I did to those men, but I know what the result was,” I said sadly. I paused for a few seconds, as I was reluctant to tell Andy all the details. I had never told him, partly because I was ashamed of what I had done, and partly because I thought he would think less of me.

“I love you, Paul. I know that whatever you did, you did to defend yourself and to defend me. I told you that months ago, and I meant it. I mean it now, too. You did not take action out of malice or intent to harm another person. I know you better than that.” Andy sat there waiting for me to continue with my explanation.

“Well, Andy, to put it bluntly, I implanted some very strong compulsions in the minds of those four men. They are happiest when they are following my instructions. They are now slaves who are happiest only when they carry out their master’s commands. The compulsions cannot be removed. Somehow they were burned into the very fabric of their minds. These four men will do anything I tell them. There are no limits, moral or ethical, in what they will do for me. If I told them to jump in front of a moving train, they would do it.” I shuddered involuntarily as the awesome weight of responsibility descended upon my shoulders once again. Most people would think that having a totally willing and obedient slave would be blissful beyond belief. I knew the bitter truth. It was an awesome, frightening responsibility to have someone else’s life literally in your hands.

“There’s nothing you can do to return them to normal?” Andy asked me.

“Nothing that I have tried has worked. The worst part is that when I tell them that I want to return them to normal, they become extremely upset. They agree to let me try, since they are compelled to follow my instructions, but their subconscious fights me every inch of the way. I’m afraid that if I try to use my full power on them, I will make things worse. I might even leave them as mental vegetables.” I shrugged my shoulders at Andy in a ‘what now” gesture.

“Oh”, Andy said softly. He looked at me thoughtfully as if he was choosing his next words carefully. “I never realized that having a true slave, not to mention four, could be such a burden. I’m sorry for my wisecrack earlier. I was out of line.” Andy he reached out and held my right hand in his left hand.

“No, you weren’t out of line. You didn’t know. How could you have known? Thank you anyway, dear heart,” I said as I smiled back at him.

“You’re welcome, as always,” Andy said and flashed me another smile. “Might I ask what you have planned for your hard worker when he arrives?”

“I thought I’d have him cleanup the spare room and do some chores,” I answered. “He might even have to change clothes first though, so as not to ruin his suit”

“I see,” Andy said with a grin. “Of course, if you then decide to have him drive you about town afterwards, well then he most likely will have to change back into his suit and tie. I’m sure he will find all of this very stimulating. I must say that you are most considerate of your hard workers.”

I did a double take at Andy and blushed as I suddenly caught on to the slightly naughty implication of his statement. Andy just grinned back at me “Shoo. Off to work with you,” I said to him as I gathered up his breakfast dishes and put them in the kitchen sink. “I still have to shower and look somewhat presentable before he gets here.”

“Be practical. Think if the time you could save if you have him give your back a good scrubbing,” Andy chuckled at me.

“Maybe the dishes, but scrubbing my back is task reserved for you, unless it’s too much for you after hard day’s work?” I grinned at him.

“This conversation is developing some interesting possibilities, which we don’t have time to explore right now,” Andy said as he raised his eyebrows up and down a couple of times. “However, duty calls, and I must answer.” Putting action to words Andy got up from the kitchen table and headed off to the door.

I followed him to the door and waved at him as he blew me a kiss just before he closed the door. I was going to miss him terribly. I wouldn’t see him until sometime Sunday morning and when I did, he’d likely be too tired to do anything but grab a bite to eat and go to bed. Ah well, that was one of the adjustments you had to make when you were involved with a policeman. In the meantime I still had to get ready.

By eight fifty-five I was all set. I had changed into a pair of dark blue jeans, black cowboy boots, a plain black western belt with a simple buckle, and a plain bright red cowboy shirt. Now I would see how the day would unfold. The doorbell rang and I walked over to door bracing myself for what would come next. I looked through the peephole and confirmed that it was one of my four slaves who stood on the other side. I unlocked the door and opened it. “Do come in, Mr. Black,” I said to the good looking man standing outside my door. I did not know his real name, but I intended to find out.

Mr. Black was dressed in a simple two piece light gray pinstripe suit, single breasted with a three button jacket. The jacket, I noted had all three buttons done up, which was unusual. Normally the bottom button of a two or three button jacket is left undone. I had expected him to be in black, as per his codename, but I had not stipulated how he should dress other than he should wear a suit and tie. He was wearing a pale blue dress shirt and a gray and white striped tie. A quick glance down showed that he was wearing black leather dress shoes which had a mirror bright shine on them. Clearly he had taken time to dress sharply before he came over to my apartment. In his right hand he was carrying a duffle bag which most likely contained a change of clothing. My slaves had standing orders to bring a change of clothing with them, consisting of extra underwear and casual clothes such as jeans. My slaves had standing orders to report to me wearing a nice suit and tie, and an alternate set of clothing was necessary if they were to do my housework. I didn’t want them ruining a good suit for nothing. After all, it was MY job to ruin their suits.

I shifted my attention to his face. His face was as I remembered, pleasant looking and unremarkable, aside from the well trimmed goatee. A pair of dark and smoky eyes looked out at me. The last time I had seen them they appeared sinister, but now they held a brightness in them that suggested anticipation. Mr. Black walked into my apartment with a brief nod of his head. He moved in a calm relaxed manner, as if he were dropping by to visit a friend. I noticed as he walked by me, that the suit jacket had side vents in it. Since I tend to like looking at guys in suits I tend to pick up on the small details of what a suit looks like on a guy and how well it fits. In this case, the suit fit Mr. Black very well. It accentuated his trim body, in a most flattering manner. I closed the apartment door and quickly turned about to get a rear view of Mr. Black. He looked very nice from the back, but I didn’t get much time to appreciate the view, because as soon as he was in the apartment, he turned around to face me.

“Hello, sir,” he said mildly, almost hesitantly..

“Hello Mr. Black,” I responded. “Is there anything you want to say to me?” I asked him. I couldn’t think of anything else to say to him. Despite what I told Andy, I didn’t really have any plans for Mr. Black. I was just winging it.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!” he cried out as he dropped down on to his knees in front of me, the duffle bag slipping from his right hand. He crawled over on his knees until he was directly in front of me, and then he wrapped his arms about my body at just about waist level and rested his head slightly on the right front side of my jeans. “I’m so happy that you finally let me come over, sir, so that I can serve you. I have been waiting so long to serve you, sir! I was starting to think that you didn’t like me sir, or that you didn’t want me around sir.”

I looked down at Mr. Black’s face as he spoke. He was earnest in his appeal to me. His face had an open trusting expression on it that I found hard to doubt. In fact, I did not doubt it at all. I knew that my mental controls were still active in Mr. Black’s mind. He was my totally devoted and totally obedient slave, whether or not I wanted him to be so. The damage I had done to his mind, and those of his three other associates, those many months ago, was still in effect and most likely would be for the rest of their lives. I found such a responsibility difficult to bear, but with Andy’s support I was managing.

He and his three associates, Mr. Green, Mr. Red and Mr. Yellow, were on a rotating schedule to drop by my apartment each weekend and be my houseboys. They were to do the household chores, cleaning, and laundry for me from Saturday noon to Sunday noon, or until I dismissed them. Yes, they did sleep overnight the spare bedroom, but only for convenience sake. They were not my sex slaves, though I am sure that they would have agreed to that as well. They always phoned first to be sure it was safe to come over, and sometimes I told them no. Other times, I gave them shopping lists, such as groceries, to buy for me. They were happiest when they bought something for me. Once in a while, I would tell them not to come over, and while they would not be pleased about it, they would respect my wishes. It’s not like they really had a choice, though. (I am sorry to inform you, dear reader, but these gentlemen are not available for loan, rental or to be hired. So if you were thinking of helping me out by taking them off my hands for a weekend or two, forget it. Besides they would not enjoy ‘working’ for you. They are devoted to me.)

“I had other things that needed to be taken care of on those weekends, which were of a very private nature,” I said to him in a very calm voice, and benevolent smile on my face. It was a little white lie, but it was much better than telling Mr. Black the truth, which was that I needed the occasional weekend free of him or his associates. He and the other three mental slaves would not have understood. They would have seen the truth as me rejecting them because they did something wrong, or failed me in some way. Their single minded devotion to me could be a very sharp doubled edged sword at times.

“I think I would like to go shopping for some western clothes at Western Town,” I told Mr. Black as I looked down at his beaming face . “I think you should act in a more restrained manner when we are out in public. I think it best that we act like two friends. So you can call me Paul, and I will call you by your first name. What is your first name, anyway?”

“Martin, sir,” Mr. Black answered. “I don’t think it is right for me to use your first name, sir” He looked at me nervously.

“I can understand that it might make you uncomfortable to use my name, but in public it is necessary. You are somewhat overdressed to go to Western Town. Now be a good boy and go change into your casual clothes, and be quick about it,” I said to him.

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” Martin said as he got up off his knees, and grabbed the duffle bag. He started to head off to the spare bedroom to change. He would have changed in front of me if I had told him to do so, but I didn’t want to get sidetracked. There was time enough to do something like that when we got back from shopping.

“Stop! I’ve changed my mind,” I called out to him. “Come back here” (Hey I can change my mind, dear reader. I’m entitled.)

“Yes, sir!” Martin cried out as he turned about, walked over to where I was standing and stood in front of me.

“ You still need to change your clothes, but I have decided that I am going to undress and then help dress you,” I told him. “I might ask you to strike a post for me, or I might freeze you in place. You’d be able to breath and talk normally but you will not move your body around when I freeze you. I will be able to move your body and whatever pose I put you in, you will be able to hold easily. Do you understand?”

“Oh yes sir!” he cried out gleefully. “Just tell me what to do sir! I love the idea of being a store dummy for you!” Martin had what could only be called a shit eating grin on his face. He was so happy it was almost sickening. He looked at me and then carefully he stood straight and tall, his arms resting naturally and easily by his sides. He still had the duffle bag gripped firmly in his right hand.

Martin looked so good , so yummy, dressed up in that suit and tie, I found it difficult not to indulge myself. I so wanted to play with those clothes and that body of his. Sometimes I give in to my urges and desires, and this was one of those times. Besides, Martin was certainly agreeable to the idea.

“Before we begin, drop the duffle bag,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” he replied with a smile. There was soft thud as the duffle bag dropped to the floor. I smiled at Martin. He smiled back at me. I slowly walked around Martin, circling him a few times. I let my eyes travel over every inch of his suited body. I drank in every detail, savouring the way that suit fit his body, like the taste of a fine rare wine. For many men, a suit is just a set of clothes to wear when you go out on a date or to a wedding, but to me it is much more. A suit of clothes is the icing on a deep delicious cake. It adds sweetness to the event. Martin’s suit was draped on his body in a sexy and provocative manner. It enhanced the sexiness of his appearance. It did not make him look smutty or cheap. On the contrary. It made his body more desirable in a masculine and powerful manner. I have always enjoyed the idea of taking a masculine and powerful looking man, and making him my obedient slave. Here was all that on a silver platter. How could I resist? (As long as I didn’t have sex with him, I would be keeping my promise to Andy, dear reader.)

The suit jacket was snug almost tight across Martin’s shoulders. Each time he took in a deep breath the jacket was pulled tight across his chest and his back, and Martin knew it. He took several deep breaths in a row as I looked at him. The man was showing off and trying to be sexy for me without moving or posing his body. He was a sneaky son of a bitch. Dang, but I liked that!

I smiled at him as I walked around him a few more times enjoying the site of him standing there waiting and wanting me to undress him. Only if he had been a motorcycle cop in full uniform, could things have been more exciting. (No offence to Andy, but I have a thing for motorcycle cops and their uniforms. I think it has something to do with the way their uniform breeches cling to their butts, emphasizing the snug tight fight of their uniform breeches on their bodies. Those tall motorcycle boots that encase their legs below the knees are also very stimulating. But enough about my fetish fantasies, dear reader.) I noticed that the suit jack had side vents on it, which created a little flap at the back that one could lift up to see Martin’s butt. Of course I would have to do that, to check that Martin’s pants fit correctly. Yeah, like I needed justification to play with Martin. He was willing to let me do practically anything with him, and I was in the mood to take him up on his offer.

I reached over and using both hands I lifted the back flap of the suit jacket. I lifted it all the way up, exposing the seat of Martin’s suit pants. I smiled at the sight before me. Martin’s butt in those suit pants was as delightful as I could have wished. The suit pants were very snug across his buttocks and seat. I could see that there were two back pockets in the pants each with a button tab closure. The left tab was closed, and the right one was not. Unlike the left back pocket, the right back pocket had something long hard and thick shoved into it. (No, I am no talking about my fully erect and throbbing cock, though that is a good guess.) There was a big thick bulging wallet stuffed into the right back pocket of those snug suit pants. The wallet was so thick that the button tab could not be closed. This was something that most definitely required further exploration, but for now I would have to curtail my curiosity and restrict myself to just redressing Martin. I let go of the back flap of the suit jacket.

I walked around until I was standing in front of Martin and turned to face him. He smiled as he looked at me. The anticipation was as plain on his face as the sun on a clear day. I reached out and slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket, letting his suit jacket fall open. The gray and white striped tie hung down loose and free to move from the snugly situated knot at the base of Martin’s neck. Martin had not seen fit to wear a tie clip of any kind, which was fine by me. I reached out and carefully grabbed the bottom tip of the tie, with my right hand. I lifted the tie as high as I could, and then let go of the tie. It felt back down onto Martin’s pale blue dress shirt, noiselessly. Martin let out a soft moan. I smiled back at him as I grabbed the lapels of his suit jacked and firmly pushed them off to the left and right exposing more of Martin’s dress shirt encased torso. Slowly I pushed the suit jacket off of Martin’s shoulders as much as I was able.

“Relax your body, Martin, and help me to take your suit jacket off,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed as he shrugged his shoulders. Seconds later the suit jacket slipped off his shoulders slid partway down his arms. I walked around Martin, so that I was standing behind him. I took hold of his suit jacket and slipped it off his dangling arms. I caught the suit jacket, turned about and hung it on the back of one of the dining room chairs. I turned my attention back to Martin. He looked very good from the back, I must say. He had the slim fit build that I find so attractive in a man. His light blue dress shirt was only slightly wrinkled, but that was unavoidable, as I know from personal experience. The shirt was neatly tucked into the suit pants which I was finally able to get a really good look at. Martin’s buttocks were full round firm and filled out his suit pants in a most suggestible manner. (Just exactly what it suggested to me, you can probably imagine, dear reader. If you can’t imagine, then too bad for you, dear reader.) The big thick wallet in right back pocket made those suit pants cling even more tightly to Martin’s buttocks. Damn, he was a sexy man. To judge by the reaction of my cock in my jeans, it was of a similar opinion. I also enjoyed the manner in which the suit pants were snug about Martin’s waist.

“Nice ass, Martin,” I said as I reached out and clamped my hands firmly, one on each of those beautiful buttocks.

“Thank you s....”, Martin started to say, but his words were lost in a long drawn out hiss, as he felt my hands squeeze his buttocks. Martin moaned out loud, losing himself in the erotic feeling of being groped by me. I knew that he would enjoy this. When it came to me, anything I did with him, he would enjoy. He was, need I remind you, my slave in the literal sense of the word. Whatever his master did with him was acceptable to him. In point of fact, it was more than merely acceptable, it was earnestly desirable. While that gave me a great deal of freedom of action to do what I knew I would enjoy with him, it also meant that I had to be careful in what I did with him. There was no ‘line drawn in the sand’ when it came to Martin.

After a few more good solid squeezes of his buttocks, (Hey, you’d do that too, dear reader, if you’d seen Martin’s ass. Trust me on this.) I let go of his ass, albeit reluctantly. I needed (okay I wanted, not needed), Martin to do something for me while I was still standing behind him. “Take off your shoes, please, but do not sit down, Martin,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” Martin said simply. He slowly dropped down so that he was kneeling on his left knee, then he bent over and reached for his right shoe.

“Freeze!” I called out to him. Martin’s suit pants were stretched even tighter across his buttocks, creating a very erotic display. It was very stimulating too, as my cock was able to confirm. I studied Martin’s ass, trying not to drool too much. I swear those pants were so tight that I could see the individual muscles of his ass and thighs. Okay maybe not that tight, but you get the idea, I’m sure. I didn’t think that was possible for those pants to get any tighter without causing a seam to burst, or to cut off blood circulation in Martin’s legs. His wallet nested snug in the right back pocket of his suit pants was adding significant tension to the material of those suit pants. One things was for certain, those suit pants were very well made. I gulped several times as I drank in the sight of Martin’s ass positioned before me. I had dropped down to my knees in order to get the best possible view of Martin’s backside. My breathing quickened and my hands itched to reach out and grab those two rock hard heavenly hemispheres that were mere inches from my fingers.

The only thing that kept me from jumping on that ass then and there, was the knowledge that if I started I might not be able to stop. I couldn’t do that to Andy. All it took was one look at the ring on my finger, Andy’s ring, to remind me of what I had and what I stood to lose. Talk about a cold shower! Someone else might have been able to justify jumping on Martin’s bones, but not me. Now you know why I never take that ring off, except when I shower or have a bath.

“Continue,” I said a few moments later, after I stood up. Martin finished untying his right shoe. He stood up, and pressed the toe of his left shoe on the heel of his right shoe, as he pulled his right foot out of his right shoe. Once he had stepped out of his right shoe, he dropped down so he was kneeling on his right knee. He bent over and reached for his left shoe. It took him only a few seconds to untie his left shoe. He stood up, placed the toes of his right foot on the heel of his left shoe, and stepped out of his left shoe. Martin stepped over his shoes and walked forward a couple of steps.

I walked around on Martin’s right side so that I could keep his wallet bulge in view. (You shouldn’t be surprised by this, dear reader. By now you should know that in addition to being an ass man, I have a wallet fetish.) I stopped for a few moments to savour the sight of Martin’s body’s right profile. The way his wallet bulged out from behind him and the way his cock bulged out in front of him brought a big smile to my face. He stood there relaxed. I glanced up at Martin’s face. His eyes were closed and a shit eating grin was plastered on his face. He was very happy, to say the least. I was sure he was content to stand like that for the next half hour or so. I shifted my eyes back to Martin’s suit pants and drank in the sight before me for a few more seconds before I continued my journey around to Martin’s front.

Martin stood in front of me, relaxed with his head held up normally, his eyes closed and that shit eating grin still pasted on his face. Overall he looked comfortable. His body was defiantly slim and trim, two big points in his favour. I had never had the nerve to examine Martin’s body prior to this time. I had been avoiding him, and his co-workers, because I didn’t want to deal with what I had done to them. Now that I was learning to deal with my feeling of guilt and learning to forgive myself, I could take the time and appreciate Martin and his co-workers for what they truly were; a gift.

So, I looked at Martin as he stood there in front of me, and I examined his body with my eyes. He was a handsome man. His face was as I remembered it, pleasant looking. He still had his goatee, which on him was becoming. Not all men can wear a goatee and look dashing, but Martin was one of the lucky ones. His eyes were still closed, but as I knew from my memory that they would be a dark and smoky gray. His black hair was cut short and neatly styled as always. I would guess his age at somewhere in his early thirties.

His body, as I said before, was slim and trim. His light blue dress shirt was well fitting, but not snug on his torso. His suit pants were snug about his waist and he did not appear to have any type of a belly or gut on him. His pants could have been cut a bit higher or tighter in the crotch area, but hey nobody’s perfect. He had noticeable bulge in the front of his suit pants.

“Put your hands on top of your head and hold them there, Martin,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” he said. He moved his arms up and placed his hands on the top of his head the left hand on top of his right hand. The smile did not leave his face.

I stepped up to Martin until my face was only an inch or two from his. I wrapped my arms about his torso and pulled Martin towards me as I clasped him in a firm hug. I pressed Martin’s body next to mine, holding my head off to Martin’s left, and keeping Martin’s head on my right side, so our heads would not bump into each other. It felt good to hold a sexy man like Martin in my arms and press his body into mine. It reminded me of when I held Andy close to me, except that feeling was a thousand times better. The soft moans that escaped from Martin’s lips suggested that he was enjoying it as well. I let the embrace drag on for a few minutes, enjoying the physical contact with Martin. Yes, it was slightly (okay it was much more than slightly) erotic and yes it was naughty.

I ended the embrace and stepped away from Martin. He had a dreamy, lost look on his face, the shit eating grin replaced by a small smile decorating his lips. He was somewhere on cloud nine. I almost envied him. The fun, though was just beginning, as far as I was concerned. I reached up and grabbed Martin’s tie. It took me only a few seconds to yank it down, and loosen it. I had the tie untied a few seconds later. Martin nodded his head as I pulled the undone tie off of him. My hands darted down to Martin’s waist and unbuckled his belt, after I diverted my eyes down to look at Martin’s waist. I could have tried to undo Martin’s belt and his pants by touch alone, and while that would have been a lot of fun, we didn’t really didn’t have the time to become sidetracked by something like that. Unfastening Martin’s suit pants presented no problems. I had them undone and hanging open in seconds. “Shake your hips until your pants fall down,” I told him with a smile, as I took a few steps back..

“Yes sir,” Martin replied smiling at me. Slowly Martin started to undulate his body moving it from side to side. As he got more into it his rhythmic swaying became more pronounced. Martin didn’t just shake his hips violently until his pants fell down. Martin put on a show. He smiled coyly at me as he continued to sway back and forth. With his hands still on top of his head Martin started to look like a professional stripper giving a show. I suspected that he caught onto the idea, because he began to sway more and more suggestively. Every now and then he would shake his hips just a little, just enough to cause his pants to edge downward a tiny little bit. As long as his pants were still above his hips, his pants would not succumb to the force of gravity and fall down on their own. His pants would continue to need some encouragement from Martin, and Martin was more than happy to supply that encouragement.

I stood there and watched the show. Martin seem to have some natural ability at swaying suggestively. I was beginning to feel like a snake being hypnotized by a snake charmer. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Martin’s undulating body. He had my full attention and I was loving every second of it. “Go ,baby go!” I muttered under my breath. For a brief moment I wondered what it would be like to have Andy do this for me. I was fairly certain Andy wouldn’t object if I asked him. I wouldn’t even have to hypnotize him first because Andy was open to trying new things. We’d already done a little bit of role-playing, what with me being a cowboy, and Andy enjoyed that. I filed away those thoughts for later consideration. I didn’t want to be distracted from Martin.

Oh the way those suit pants inched their way down Martin’s hips was tantalizing. He was doing an excellent job of drawing this out, making it last as long as humanly possible. I think it’s important to savour and enjoy moments like these, because they don’t happen very often. Sway and shake. Sway and shake. Martin continued his little performance all the time smiling coyly at me. If Martin didn’t know how to flirt before, he certainly knew how to do it now. I had to keep reminding myself though that with his super hypnotic conditioning Martin would find doing anything for me enjoyable. It was important not to forget how easy it would be for me to cross that line. Martin would never say no.

To many people that might seem an ideal situation. Little did they know how frightening, how terrifying having such power, such control, over a person could be. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. A world of wisdom was contained in those two short sentences. With Andy I could let myself go and if I did something that he didn’t like or that he had a problem with, he’d let me know. I didn’t have that option with Martin. So I had to keep reminding myself, in the back of my mind, that Martin required special handling.

It was amazing to me that I could have all of these thoughts flowing through my mind while my eyes were still glued to Martin’s sexy sassy swaying seductively suggestive body. These thoughts didn’t diminish my enjoyment of Martin’s show, they merely reminded me that I was the one in charge. Those suit pants were much lower and barely hanging on the curve of Martin’s hips. One or two more good shakes, and those suit pants would succumb to the inevitable call of gravity. All too soon it seemed, they did. Martin shook his hips and the suit pants slid down to his ankles.

“Step out of your suit pants, and let your hands and arms drop down to your side, Martin,” I said.

“Yes sir,,” Martin replied, as he carried out my instructions. Martin shook his right leg slightly as he lifted his leg and took one step forward. He shook his left leg to dislodge his suit pants as he lifted that leg and placed it next to his right leg. Martin lifted his hands off the top of his head at his arms drop limply to his sides.

I walked up to Martin so that I was again standing directly in front of him. I reached out and slowly began to unbutton his dress shirt. I felt a shudder course through Martin’s body as my hands walked their way down from his neck to his belly undoing one button after another during the journey. I unbuttoned the cuffs of the dress shirt, reached up and pulled the dress shirt apart as wide as I could, while pushing it up and over Martin’s shoulders. This exposed his slim trim torso and revealed that he didn’t have more than a touch of hair on his chest. I let go of Martin’s dress shirt and walked around so I was standing behind him. I reached up and pulled the dress shirt back and off of his unresisting body. Martin helped by shrugging his shoulders once or twice. I let the dress shirt fall to the floor and looked at Martin’s well toned back. As you might guess Martin was not wearing an undershirt, although he was wearing white cotton briefs. He didn’t have the proverbial bubble butt although his buttocks were firm well rounded and toned. I walked around Martin in a full 360 Degrees Circle getting a good look at his underwear and sock clad body. He was nice physical specimen without any sign of a gut, belly or love handles. I sincerely wanted to run my hands over Martin’s chest and stomach and sides and back, all over his torso in fact, but I knew that would lead to trouble.

“Pick up your clothes off the floor and hang them in the closet so they don’t get any more wrinkled than they already are,” I said a few seconds later.

“Yes sir,” Martin responded in began carrying out my orders. I suppose it sounds a little repetitive, reporting that Martin was carrying out my orders, after all it was a somewhat safe assumption that he would do so. I suppose you had to be there seeing Martin doing as he was told to really appreciate the satisfaction I got from having him obey me. As I’ve said many times before, I’m a bit of a control freak, and I love it when a hypnotized man does as he’s told. I watched with satisfaction as Martin walked over to the closet, grabbed an empty hangar and walked back to where his clothes were scattered on the floor. He gathered up his clothes from the floor, and hung them up on the hanger, which he quickly returned to the closet. He walked back, picked up his dress shoes and placed them on the close floor. When he was finished, he turned back to face me a hesitant smile on his face.

“Good boy. Now get dressed in your casual clothes, because we have to get going,” I told him. Helping Martin get dressed in his casual clothes would have been a lot of fun, but we really didn’t have the time for it, because I’d spent too much time undressing Martin. I wanted to leave lots of time for shopping because I didn’t know how long it’s going to take. When we got back from our little shopping trip, there would be plenty of time for me to continue playing with Martin.

“Right away Sir,” Martin said cheerfully. He walked over to the duffel bag bent down and unzipped it. He fished out a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark blue golf shirt with a three button packet. Martin slipped the shirt on to his torso quickly and easily. Perhaps a little too quickly but that’s somewhere I don’t think I really wanted to go anyway. The jeans took only a fraction more time to be slipped over Martin’s slim toned legs and those sexy white cotton briefs. Martin bent over the duffel bag a second time. Unfortunately he was facing me so I didn’t get to check out his ass those jeans but that was something I could arrange later. He extracted brown dress belt from the duffel bag and quickly slipped it into the belt loops of his jeans fastening the belt. He bent over the duffle bag a third time, dug out a pair of unremarkable sneakers, and sat down next to the duffle bag. He put the sneakers on his feet and tied them tight. He climbed back up to his feet, turned and faced me.

“Just let me get my things from my suit and I’ll be ready to go, sir,” Martin said as he walked back to the closet. He turned about and headed back to the closet, so I got a good eyeful of him in his casual clothes. The shirt and jeans fit him well, without being snug or tight. They looked good on him, and Martin seemed comfortable in them. Martin was facing away from me, as he placed several objects in the pockets of his jeans. I wasn’t sure what he was putting in the front pockets of his jeans, but it seemed most likely that it was keys and coins or something similar. I was certain about his wallet when I saw him slip it into the right back pocket of his jeans, where it generated a sexy significant bulge. Martin turned around a few seconds later and walked over to me, stopping in front of me, facing me when he was about a half metre away from me.

“You look very nice, Martin. Please turn around once for me so that I can get an eye full of you from all sides,” I said to him.

“Yes, sir,” he replied happily, as he carried out my request. He slowly turned about three hundred and sixty degrees, giving me a clear view of his body from all angles. Turns out I had been mistaken, those jeans were on the snug side. They clung to his thighs, crotch and buttocks in a most suggestive manner. I was even more delighted with the eye catching bulge Martin’s wallet made stuffed into the right back pocket of his jeans. My cock twitched in the proximity of such a luscious desirable butt. I knew I would enjoy spending time with Martin, at least from a physical standpoint. Some interesting ideas were starting to percolate in my mind. I’d have to see how the day played out.

“Yes, indeed you do look fine. Now come over here and let me grab a handful or two of that ass before we go,” I said.

“Oh yes sir!” He agreed gleefully. He walked to me so that he was standing directly in front of me, and then turned his back to me. “Grab to your heart’s content, sir.”

I took him up on his offer. (Like I was going to restrain myself? Get real. I wanted to have some fun today, and now was as good a time as any to start, dear reader.) I reached out with both hands and grabbed his buttocks. I clamped on tightly and gave each a big long firm squeeze. Mind you, it was a bit more difficult to do that to his right buttock as his big wallet got in the way. I gave a good college try, as they say. Martin’s groans of pleasure indicated that he was grateful the attention I paid to his buttocks. After a couple more squeezes, I reluctantly released my hold on his ass. We had other things to deal with today.

“Let’s go to Western Town, Martin,” I said to him, as I walked over to the door and opened it. and proceeded into the hall.

“Yes, sir,” he replied with a gulp, following me like an eager puppy. I closed and locked the apartment door behind us. We headed to the bank of elevators. It was an uneventful trip to Western Town. I couldn’t tell you what type of car Martin was driving other than it had four wheels, and it was a dark blue. We arrived at the store about thirty-five minutes after we set out, so I would say we made good time. Martin parked the car and looked over at me, an unasked question on his face.

“What’s wrong, Martin?” I asked him.

“What should I do, while you are shopping sir?” he asked.

“Did you think I was going to have you wait here in the car while I shopped?” I asked.

“Well, yes, sir,” he replied meekly aware that somehow he was mistaken about what I had in mind.

“I want you to shop with me. I might want your opinion on what I buy,” I told him with a smile.

“But I don’t know anything about buying cowboy clothes, sir,” he replied confused.

“Perhaps not, but I am sure you will have an opinion on whether or not you think I look good in a particular item of clothing. I do want your opinion when I ask you for it. I won’t get upset or annoyed if you don’t agree with me. There’s no point in you sitting here in the car, listening to the radio, when you could be helping me to shop,” I said with a smile.

“Oh, I see, sir. I think,” Martin replied doubtfully.

“There is one thing though,” I cautioned him.

“Sir?” He asked.

“While we are in the store, don’t call me sir, call me Paul. We are just two guy friends doing some shopping,” I reminded him. “If you want to buy something for yourself feel free to do so.”

“Yes, uh...Paul,” he said softly. He still wasn’t comfortable using my name.

“Good boy. Now let’s shop!” I said as I slipped off my seat belt and opened the car door.

“Okay, Paul,” Martin said with a touch more confidence.

We entered the store and I headed off to the shirts section. Martin took one look at the solid wall of cowboy boots on the left side of the store and he was lost. The same thing had happened when I first took Bernie to Western Town. What was it about a wall full of cowboy boots that stunned first time shoppers? I left Martin to fend for himself. I started pawing my way through the cowboy shirts looking for something to catch my eye.

I had been searching the racks, not having much luck when I felt a tap on my right shoulder. I turned about to find Martin standing next to me with a big grin on his face. “Did you know they sell suits here si....uh Paul?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’ve never been interested in buying one,” I answered.

“Oh. Is it okay if I buy one?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course, you can buy one, Martin. You don’t need my permission for that, “ I assured him.

“I feel that I do, Paul. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise,” Martin said. “Could you at least suggest a colour that you like?”

“A light colour like tan or gray would be my suggestion. It would allow you to show off your bulges to me,” I said to him with a wicked grin.

“Oh, right, Paul. I get it,” Martin replied with a blush. He smiled back at me and headed off to whatever part of the store it was that he had seen the suits. We had lots of time to shop. I got back to my investigation of the cowboy shirts in stock.

“Can I get a cowboy shirt and a tie too?” Martin’s voice inquired from behind me, a few minutes later.

I sighed softly to myself, as I turned around and faced Martin. This was a common problem with slaves. They felt the need to check that they had permission to do something if you had not given them explicit permission to do it. They were so afraid of doing something wrong and encountering your wrath, that they had to check for every little thing. After a while that can get on your nerves, believe me. “Martin, you can buy anything in this store that you like. You can buy anything that you want. You don’t need my approval. Buy a cowboy shirt, tie, hat, boots and a belt buckle for all I care!”

“Yes, Paul,” Martin said softly looking crestfallen. He blinked at me a few times and turned away. He was sadden by my annoyance at him.

“Hold on just a second, Martin,” I called to him before he’d taken more than a step or two. I licked my lips. He turned back and looked at me, like a puppy dog that was about to be swatted for peeing on the carpet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It was wrong of me. What I meant to say to you is that you don’t have to check with me about buying anything for yourself. You’re allowed to buy what you want today. Whatever you buy is for you, and that’s all you have to be concerned about. I don’t want you to even think of buying anything for me today. You’ve been a good friend and you deserve to treat yourself to whatever you want and can afford. You’re a good boy, Martin. Now, please, go and enjoy yourself. We can shop here all day if need be.” I smiled my best smile at him.

Martin’s face brightened and he smiled back at me. “You’re a good friend too, Paul. Thank you.” With that he turned about and headed off to do more shopping. I looked at him briefly and then returned my attention to the shirt racks in front of me. Martin would be okay, now that he knew he had my permission to shop for whatever he wanted. I looked up after about five minutes, wondering where Martin was. I caught a glimpse of him over by the cashier’s position talking with one of the staff. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from the way the cowboy salesman was pointing about the store, Martin had an interest in more than just suits.

I turned my attention back to the racks of cowboy shirts. There had to be something hiding in the racks that would interest me. It wasn’t going to be much fun to leave the store empty handed. As I continued my search for a new shirt or two, I noticed a slight tingling at the back of my head. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unusual. After a few minutes I was able to ignore the sensation, and get back to the task at hand, shopping. After another fifteen minutes, I gave up on the shirts and decided to look at the cowboy boots. I didn’t need any new boots, but it never hurts to look.

I was looking at a pair of black boots when a strange voice behind me said “Black isn’t your colour. Brown would suit you though.”

I turned around slowly to find myself staring at a good looking stranger. A good looking cowboy would be more accurate. A good looking tall handsome cowboy to be precise. A good looking tall handsome and somewhat sexy cowboy, would be honest. How do I know he was sexy you ask? Simple. My cock reacted when I saw him.

“Pardon me?” I asked, as I looked him over from head to toe. I liked what I saw, as did my cock. I estimated his height at about six feet, not including the white felt cowboy hat that was perched on the top of his head. Peeking out from beneath that sexy white felt cowboy hat, (Well, I find cowboy hats sexy anyway.) on the side of his head was some dirty blonde hair, trimmed very short. The cowboy had a handsome clean shaven face, with a firm strong jaw line, even thin lips, a normal sized nose, and sky blue eyes. (What is it about blond guys with blue eyes? Every gay man I have ever talked with has shown an interest, if not a preference in blond guys with blue eyes.) He had a tall and thin build which I have always found attractive. He was wearing a dark blue denim cowboy shirt that was tucked into a pair of light blue jeans, that followed the contours of his hips thighs and legs. A black leather belt encircled his trim waist. The belt was fastened with a big cowboy belt buckle. The belt buckle had a gold braid border with a gold eagle head, in profile, on a silver background. He could not have been better looking if he had been custom ordered. He was in a word, yummy. I did not bother to glance down to see what his cowboy boots looked like. The view above the waist was far too enjoyable.

“I think you’d do better with brown cowboy boots,” the cowboy said with a big smile that showed even white teeth. His smile was friendly, warm and inviting. I found myself liking it and him.

“My name’s Hoyt, by the way,” he said as he held out his right hand to me. “And you are?”

“Paul, and I am pleased to meet you,” I answered as I griped his hand firmly, and smiled back at him.

“I’m pleased to meet you as well, “ he replied. The smile on his face grew even larger as he returned the firm grip of my handshake. He continued shaking my hand a bit longer. “I’m very pleased indeed to meet you.” he smiled at me.

Suddenly I found myself lurching towards him as he yanked very strongly on my arm, pulling me towards him. I found myself stumbling forward caught off balance by surprise. Hoyt didn’t attempt to catch me and break my fall. Instead he stepped off to my right as he pulled me towards him. A few seconds later I found myself standing unsteadily on my feet, with my right arm twisted rather painfully up and behind my back. Hoyt was standing behind me, and in my confusion had managed to snake his left arm securely about my neck. Hoyt had me corralled, to put it in cowboy terms, and there wasn’t much that I could do about it. Not yet, anyway.

“You and I are going to walk over to the employee break room for a little chat, or I am going to snap your right arm like a twig. Do you understand?” Hoyt snarled into my ear, as he pushed my right arm up even more painfully behind my back.

I gulped once and nodded my head in agreement. What else was I going to do? Hoyt was behind me, so I could not use my super hypnosis on him. I forced myself to calm down as I got ready to yell for help. I figured that once someone helped me to get free of Hoyt’s grasp, I’d be able to handle him. Either that or I could set up a compulsion field and get him to agree to let me go.

“Go ahead and call for help if you like, but it won’t do you any good. As far as everyone else in this store is concerned, there is nothing unusual going on,” Hoyt informed me, his authority oozing out of every word like puss from an infected wound. “Oh if you were thinking of setting up a compulsion field don’t bother. The second I feel one forming, I tighten my arm around your neck and you’ll be out cold in much less than thirty seconds.” His words sent a chill down my spine, although I could not understand why he scared me so. It was unnerving though, to have him seem to be several steps ahead of me. I decided to wait and see what happened once we got to the break room. There wasn’t much else I could do right then. Even Martin couldn’t help me, if he didn’t see me leaving with Hoyt, and Martin was off looking at cowboy suits, in a whole other part of the store.

All too soon we arrived in the employee break room. A youngish, slim and trim salesman in cowboy gear, was standing next to the break room counter sipping his coffee from a paper cup. He nodded his head at our entrance, clearly oblivious to the fact that one man (Hoyt) was forcing another man (me) into the break room. The cowboy salesman continued sip his coffee as if seeing us there was the most natural thing in the world. He had medium brown hair, and a pleasant face. He was wearing light blue jeans, with a well fitting plaid long sleeved western style shirt. A brown belt with a simple brass buckle encircled his waist. A pair of dark brown cowboy boots peeked out from beneath those well fitting jeans. Even when I’m being man handled and am facing an unknown future, I notice what guys look like, when they happen to catch my eye. I think it comes from years of practice, looking at guys on the sly. Either that, or I’m just horny all the time. Take your pick.

“You don’t want to finish your coffee. You want to leave and get back on the sales floor to help the customers,” Hoyt said to the salesman. The salesman looked at Hoyt and blinked a few times as if he didn’t understand what Hoyt had said to him. A few seconds later the salesman poured his nearly full cup of coffee into the sink, tossed the now empty paper cup into a nearby trash can, turned around and walked out of the break room. He had a nice round full plump ass, with a light brown cowboy styled wallet peeking out of the right back pocket of his Wrangler jeans. The leather patch and the ‘W’ stitching on the back pockets is a dead giveaway as to the type of jeans he was wearing. I started to wonder just how snug those jeans were that hugged the salesman’s ass so closely. Clearly the matter needed further investigation, I thought to myself. It was sad that the salesman left my field of vision so quickly. I would have enjoyed watching him a bit longer.

“Now that we’re alone, let’s get down to business,” Hoyt snarled at me, snapping my attention from the hunky cowboy salesman, back to my much less desirable situation. The bolt of pain that crashed into my brain, as Hoyt increased the pressure on my right arm, just slightly, insured that he now had my undivided attention.

“Okay,” I croaked at him, wondering what the heck he was talking about. I didn’t have any ‘business’ with Hoyt. Heck, I didn’t know him from Adam.

“We are going to walk back into the store and we are going to find Martin. Once we do, you are going to undo whatever it was that you did to him in the council chamber. You may have lied your way out of that, but you’re not going to lie you way out of this,” Hoyt informed me. I could tell from the tone of his voice that there was no room for negotiation.

“What council is that?” I asked, as I tried to find out exactly what Hoyt knew about my adventure with the Council of Coins. Hoyt proceeded to escort me back out into the store. I didn’t offer any resistance as it wouldn’t have gained me anything.

“Don’t insult my intelligence. You know very well what council,” he barked at me. “Do you think you’re the only gifted person on the face of the planet? I set up the compulsion field that has all the norms out there convinced that there’s nothing funny going on. Now where’s Martin?” He asked looking about.

“Norms?” I asked, confused by the term.

“Normal people, nitwit. People not like you and me. People without the gift. Geese, you are slow,” he said condescendingly. “I’ll bet you didn’t even feel the tingle in your head that tells you there’s a compulsion field nearby. I heard you were a smart man. Looks like I heard wrong. I can‘t believe you‘re in the running.”

“In the running? In the running for what?” I asked even more confused than before.

“Skip it. Focus on fixing Martin. That’s all you have to worry your pretty little head about. Now let’s get to it,” he said with finality, as he started pushing me off into another direction. My guess was that he’d spotted Martin, although I couldn’t see Martin anywhere.

“Why do you care? Who is Martin to you?” I asked him, finding myself suddenly curious as to the ‘why’ behind his demand. The fact that I couldn’t do as he asked worried me, but my curiosity had been aroused, and it’s been known to get me into trouble on more than one occasion.

“Never you mind. Just do it, or else,” he answered as he pressed down very lightly on my right arm. He didn’t need to remind me of the hold he had me in. It wasn’t as if I was likely to forget about it.

“I can’t do as you ask,” I told him truthfully, after a brief pause.

“I think you’re lying. I think you don’t want to do ask I ask,” Hoyt said with a coldness to his voice that was starting to scare me. “I think I can convince you to change your mind.”

“Wishing won’t make it so,” I told him with a sigh.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snarled back at me. He gave my arm another good twist and I gasped in pain. “Now agree to do as I want, unless you like the idea of a cast on your arm for the next six weeks. I can always break your left arm too, if you continue to be stubborn.”

“You’re a red neck idiot. Do you know that?” I snarled back at him, as the pain gave me an unexpected strength. Suddenly I didn’t care if Hoyt broke my arm. I was sick of his demands and I was sick of him. I was angry at him and also at myself. I had hoped to try and enjoy today, to spend the time I needed to with Martin for his sake, and the fates were conspiring to do everything possible to screw it up. Enough already! If he wanted to inflict pain on me fine, but he would learn the truth one way or another. I gulped once as I struggled to keep my temper under control. Martin didn’t need to hear what I was about to tell Hoyt, nor did anyone else in the store. I lowered my voice and spoke as calmly as I was able. “Don’t you think that if I could let Martin go, I’d have done it by now? If you think having a love sick slave mooning over you twenty-four hours a day is desirable, then you don’t know anything about real life salves. If you have talked with any of the council members you will know that what I’m saying is the truth. The controls I implanted can’t be removed. I’ve tried, and so has the council. You’re going to have to accept that, because it is the truth.”

“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, I’ll give you that,” Hoyt said, as if he were granting me a favour. He paused our walk for a few moments. I could not see what he was doing, but it seemed likely that he was looking about the store, searching for Martin.

“And you don’t know the truth when you hear it,” I replied not bothering to conceal the frustration I felt. Hoyt started moving us off in a new direction. It didn’t take long for me to catch sight of Martin. He was standing by the shirt racks. He must have seen us coming out of the corner of his eyes because he jerked his head up at our approached. He smiled at us as we approached. The smile melted into puzzlement as he saw the expression on my face. I wasn’t smiling. I was grimacing in pain, because Hoyt had not let up on the pressure he was applying to my right arm.

“What’s going on Paul?” Martin asked me. Martin turned and addressed Hoyt. “What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t want anything more to do with you.”

“Paul’s here to fix you and put you back to normal. I told you I wouldn’t give up on you,” Hoyt said to Martin. I could hear the warmth in Hoyt’s voice when he talked to Martin. I suspected that these two men knew each other, and were something more than casual friends.

“But I don’t want that, and I don’t want you,” Martin snapped at Hoyt angrily. Martin shot a look of loathing at Hoyt.

“You’re not in your right mind, Martin. You know that when someone implants controls in your mind, you’re perceptions become skewed. You’ve done that to norms. You might not know it, but Paul did exactly that to you, and now he is going to remove those controls,” Hoyt said firmly.

“Of course I know all about it. I know exactly what Paul has done to me. I was there, you know,” Martin said to Hoyt, looking at him as if he was too stupid to understand the obvious.

“Don’t you want to get better? Don’t you want to be back with me? Did all we have together, mean nothing to you?” Hoyt asked, puzzled at Martin’s response. I wisely kept close my moth closed while Martin and Hoyt exchanged heated opinions.

“People change. Circumstances change. What we had was wonderful. I don’t want you anymore. I want to serve Paul, and he has been kind enough to agree to let me serve him. Now leave Paul alone,” Martin said firmly.

“You need to be helped. You need to be rescued from this monster,” Hoyt declared as he tried to drive his point home to Martin.

“Paul’s not a monster. He’s a very nice man. Now let him go,” Martin said with an edge to his voice.

“Get started now, Paul,” Hoyt said as he pressed down on my arm again.

I grunted with pain for a few seconds, and then addressed Hoyt. “I told you before that I can’t do what you want. It is simply not possible.”

“It’s going to be even more difficult, because I’m not staying around for this,” Martin said as he walked past Hoyt and me. In a few seconds Martin was out of my field of vision because Hoyt was still holding on to me and we were both facing away from Martin. A few seconds later I stumbled forward as I was flung free from Hoyt’s grasp. I took a few more steps and turned to face Hoyt, raising my arms up and balling my fists as I prepared to defend myself. (Okay, what I really wanted to do was to knock his block off, but getting into a fight wouldn’t solve anything.) I raised my mental shields and gather my mental powers together, in case this turned into a mental duel.

I looked about and what I saw made my jaw drop, and made me forgot about the pain in my right arm. Hoyt was out cold on the floor. Standing behind him, with a shy smile mixed with a look of hopefulness on his face, was Martin. “He didn’t hurt you, did he, Paul?” Martin asked.

“Yes, he did actually, but I’m okay now thanks to you, Martin,” I answered looking around for the secret army that Martin must have had to help him overpower Hoyt. “Will Hoyt be okay” I asked.

“Yes, he should wake up very shortly,” Martin said with an angry edge to his voice. “He’s a bad man, though. He tried to hurt you.”

“What did you do to Hoyt?” I asked Martin as we waited for Hoyt to regain consciousness. “I’m very thankful to you for your quick action. You got me out of a very difficult situation.”

“You’re most welcome, Paul,” Martin said with a blush. “I used a police hold on Hoyt. It’s part of my training by the Council of Coins. It is very effective as you can see.”

“Very effective indeed,” I said with a smile. I looked down at Hoyt lying there on the floor, still out cold. He was a good looking man, I had to admit. I blinked a few times as I saw the front of his jeans start to darken. Very quickly the area spread until it seem to cover the entire front lower part of his jeans. An unpleasant odour filled the air. It took only a few sniffs to confirm it was coming from Hoyt. Apparently he’d soiled his jeans as well as peed in them.

“Oh dear, it seems I used the hold just a little bit too long. He’s soiled himself,” Martin said as he looked down at Hoyt. “It’s no more than he deserves, though.” The edge to Martin’s voice was unmistakable. I didn’t have to scan Martin’s mind to know that he had intentionally used the hold ‘a little bit too long’.

“Will Hoyt be okay? I asked Martin as I looked up at him. I let a smile grace my lips as I tried to encourage him to answer the question.

“Aside from having to deal with a messed up pair of jeans, he’ll be fine. He should wake up in a few minutes. We should leave,” Martin answered.

“We can’t leave. We have to settle things with Hoyt. Would you mind explaining a bit more about your relationship with Hoyt?” I asked Martin.

“Well, only because you asked me,” Martin answered reluctantly. “Hoyt and I have had a relationship for the past five years or so. We lived together until recently. He’s been a good friend and fuck buddy, but that’s all over now.”

“I see. So prior to that business between you and I, in the council chamber, you and Hoyt were in a committed relationship?” I asked. I wanted to be sure I had the facts straight.

“Well, I suppose you could put it like that. It’s really not important anymore. I don’t care about him. I care about you,” Martin said as he looked me in the eye.

“It’s important to me. You had a life before you encountered me, and I don’t see why you should have to give it up,” I said.

“But, it would be like cheating on you,” Martin objected.

“What about me and Andy? I’m still seeing him. He and I have a long term relationship. I don’t intend to give that up, not even for you,” I retorted.

“But that’s different,” Martin complained.

“Different, how?” I asked.

“You’re my master. You’re entitled to do whatever you determine to be best. I am your slave boy and must be happy with whatever time of yours, you feel fit to grant me. I have no claim on your time or your emotions. I exist only to serve and obey you. It is my only reason for living,” Martin said quietly and slowly as if he didn’t want to risk my misunderstanding anything that he said.

I sighed and looked at Martin. He wasn’t kidding. I knew that. I’d known it before, and what he said to me now wasn’t much of a surprise. I was in the same situation I’d been in before with Martin and the other three men I’d adjusted months ago in the council chamber. There didn’t seem to be any way out of this trap. Martin just looked at me, like a love sick puppy, hoping that he hadn’t made me mad.

“Thank you again for helping me with Hoyt,” I said to Martin. “You’re a good boy.” Martin beamed at me like he’d just received a kiss from the love of his life. I suppose in a way he had. I didn’t know what to do next, though. Hoyt would be waking up and we’d have to deal with him. I looked around the store as I tried to think of what to do next.

“It suddenly seems odd to me that Hoyt knew where you and I were today. I didn’t plan this outing, it was a spur of the moment decision,” I said to Martin.

“If I know Hoyt, he’s been keeping tabs on me and following me. I suspect that he followed us here to Western Town and while we were looking about he set up that compulsion filed. Hoyt likes to dress in cowboy clothes too,” Martin explained.

The sound of soft sobbing behind me snatched my attention away from Martin. I turned around, looking down at Hoyt, sitting there on the floor. He sat there with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped about his knees. He looked up at me, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

“Do you see what you’ve done to me?” he cried out. “You’ve stolen Martin from me, and ripped my heart out.”

I said nothing. All I could do was stare down at this broken cowboy sitting there on the floor, crying like a four year old who’s had his favourite toy snatched away by a mean parent. (Martin wasn’t a toy, but you get the idea, I’m sure, dear reader.) All the fight seemed to have been drained out of Hoyt. I wasn’t comfortable in his presence, but I didn’t feel frightened by him anymore.

“Hoyt, do you think I wanted this to happen? Do you think I’m enjoying this?” I asked him as I looked down at him. “If I could fix it, I would. I can’t turn back time.”

“I think you don’t care shit all about Martin,” Hoyt snapped at me between sobs.

“I do, actually. I just haven’t been able to figure out a way out of this situation that doesn’t hurt Martin,” I replied. This wasn’t getting anyone anywhere. I had to come with a solution or there would be more problems with Hoyt. I didn’t hate the man. If anything I felt sorry for him. If only I could get Hoyt and Martin back together. It would solve Hoyt’s problem as well as my own. But that wouldn’t work because Martin was passionately devoted to me. He wasn’t in love with me, but he was devoted to being my slave boy. Wait a minute though, maybe, just maybe there was something that I could do. It might not work, but it was worth a shot. If I phrased the request correctly, Martin might go for it and not see it as rejection on my part. The question was, would Hoyt accept it?

“Do you still have any feelings for Hoyt, Martin?” I asked him, as I started to lay the groundwork for my plan.

“Well, yes. I guess I still love him but that’s not important,” Martin replied in a puzzled tone.

“So if you were not my slave boy, you’d still be involved with Hoyt, just as you were before you met me?” I asked, as an idea formed in my mind.

“I guess so,” Martin answered cautiously. “But I don’t want Hoyt, I want to serve you.” Martin dropped down to his knees in front of me as he cried out to me, the terror of being rejected by me, plain on his face. “Please don’t send me away sir! I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll be the best boy you’ve ever had! I’ll do anything you want! Really! Just don’t send me away, Sir! I’m begging you!!” There were tears rolling down Martin’s eyes as he spoke. There was no question but that he meant every word he said.

“I told you that I would never send you away. I meant what I said then, and I mean it now,” I said to Martin in a calm soothing voice. “Now stand up and then go help Hoyt up onto his feet.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said with one final sob. He climbed up off his knees and stood in front of me for a few moments. He turned walked past me and stood in front of Hoyt, holding out his hand. Hoyt ignored him. Martin waited a few seconds before he grabbed Hoyt hands and pulled Hoyt to his feet. Hoyt shot a look of loathing at me, but said nothing. Martin stood next to Hoyt and looked at me, awaiting his next instruction from me.

“Martin, I want you to be happy, in serving me, and in your own life,” I said to him. I took a breath as I carefully composed my thoughts. “You have been a very good boy for me, and you deserve to be as happy as I am. Therefore, from this moment onward you are as in love and devoted to Hoyt as you were before you became my slave boy. You are to live your life with Hoyt just as you did before you became my slave boy. You will still serve me. You will still be at my beck and call. When you are not actively serving me you will once again have your own life just as it was before. Think about this carefully, and then tell me what you think about my decision. Tell me the truth, not what you think you want me to hear.”

The stunned expression on Martin’s face had me worried. I wasn’t sure if my plan was going to work. Martin could reject the ideas and I could be in a much bigger mess than I was right now.

“Is this true, sir?” Martin asked me, hesitantly.

“Is what true, Martin?” I asked him.

“Is it true that I can spend time with Hoyt, instead of spending time with you, and you won’t be mad at me? It is true that Hoyt and I can go back to the way we were?” Martin asked softly. The hope in his eyes begged me to say ‘yes’.

“All that is true, Martin. I want you to be as happy in your life now, as you were before you met me,” I answered. “I know that you will still have a desire, a need, to want to be at my beck and call. There will be times when I call you to serve me, but outside those times, you deserve to have your life back as much as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Martin said to me. He looked at me for a few more moments.

“Will you take me back, Hoyt?” Martin asked as he turned and looked at Hoyt.

“Let’s go into the break room and talk about this, all of us,” Hoyt said to Martin, and then turned and looked at me.. “I need to reinforce the compulsion field as well.”

“Fine,” I agreed. “Lead the way.” The next few minutes were going to prove most interesting.

Hoyt walked towards the break room, Martin following him like a love sick puppy. I followed silently. I hoped that my problems with Martin might be simplified, if not solved, in the next few minutes. We arrived at the break room very quickly. Fortunately it was still empty.

“Wait right there, Martin. Give me a minute or so to deal with the compulsion field and I will answer your question,” Hoyt said. Martin nodded his head as he looked silently at Hoyt. I looked at Hoyt and nodded my head. Hoyt closed his eyes, a look of concentration etched on his face. About a minute or so later his expression relaxed and he opened his eyes.

“The field is good for another half hour or so. We should be finished long before then,” Hoyt said. “I do want you back, Martin. You should know that by now. What do you think about what Paul has said to you, Martin?”

“I think I owe Paul a rather big debt of gratitude. He’s given you back to me, Hoyt. I can be with you again. We can be as we were before. Even when I was serving him, and obeying him, I never stopped loving you or caring about you. Can you forgive me for treating you so poorly? Can we be together again?” Martin looked from Hoyt to me and back at Hoyt.

“The answer to those questions, depends on the answer to three of my questions,” Hoyt said. “One. Did you ever have any sexual relations with Paul?”

“No,” Martin answered quickly.

“Well?” Hoyt asked looking at me.

“No we never had any sexual relations. I am in love and devoted to my own man. The most sexual thing we did was that I ran my hands over Martin’s body, when he had his clothes on,” I answered calmly. “Not that you will believe it, but I promised my man whom you would call a norm, that I would never use my powers to cheat on him.” I looked Hoyt right in the eye as I spoke the next sentence. “I do not break my word.” I locked my eyes on Hoyt, and kept them there until he looked away from me about thirty seconds later.

“Two. Do you now or have you any time in the past, felt love for, or been in love with Paul?” Hoyt asked turning his attention back to Martin.

“Yes. It was the love of a submissive devoted slave boy, not the full mature soul filling love that I have for you. I was and still am, in awe of Paul, but I do not love him as I love you,” Martin answered. “I love being his slave boy, but I don’t love him, Hoyt. I love you.”

“Three. Will you ever put me ahead of Paul, if you had to choose between us?” Hoyt said.

“No. I cannot do that. Paul is still my master and he still comes first, even though I love you with all my heart, and my soul cries out to be with yours,” Martin admitted. He dropped his head and looked at the floor.

Hoyt looked at Martin and then back at me. He did not look happy. He said nothing.

“This is the best I can do, Hoyt,” I said shattering the silence between us. “I cannot give Martin back to you as he was. All I can do is give both of you what you had before he met me. The catch is that he will still be at my beck and call. Does this please me? Not at all. It is the price I must pay for being Martin’s master. I did not ask for this. I was only defending myself at the time. If you really have talked with the Council of Coins, you would know that I am telling you the truth.”

“I don’t like it,” Hoyt said, looking at me and then at Martin, who was still looking at the floor. “But I accept it.” Martin’s head snapped up and he looked at Hoyt with hope. “I did consult with the Council of Coins before I set up this meeting with you, Paul. The Council thought it would be a good test of your intentions, morals, integrity and compassion. You may be pleased to know that I will be reporting favourably to the Council on your behalf.”

“This was another test by the Council?” I asked starting to feel the anger rise within me. (Is it any wonder, dear reader, that I was getting just a little sick and tired with the Council and their tests?)

“Yes it was a test sanctioned by the Council, but not arranged by or originating from the Council,” Hoyt answered. “I wanted Martin back. The Council advised me as to the best plan that would force you to have to think on your feet and try to come up with a solution. The fact that you were willing to give up a devoted slave boy, as much as you possibility could, weighs heavily in your favour.”

“So you knew all along that there was no way for me to fix Martin?” I asked as my anger started to flare up.

“Martin is not ‘fixed’. You know that better than anyone. I don’t like it, but I do have to accept that he will always be your slave. What you have done, is to give him back as normal a life as possible while still being able to be your slave. I don’t like the idea of sharing him with you, but half a loaf is better than none. Perhaps, given time, I may learn to like you, Paul Watson. I have come to respect you.” Hoyt finished speaking and looked at me, as if saying that the ball was in my court now.

“Do you want to go home with Hoyt now?” I asked Martin as I turned my attention back to him.

“I would like to finish whatever it is you had planned for us today, Sir,” Martin answered. “After that I would like to go with Hoyt. We have a lot to catch up on, and a lot to talk about.” Martin looked over at Hoyt, a caring expression on Martin’s face.

“I see no problem with that. In fact, if you go home and clean yourself up, you can come and join us for coffee later this evening at my place tonight,” I said to Hoyt. “After that, Martin can go home with you. How does that sound to everyone?”

“I like it Sir!” Martin agreed enthusiastically.

“It’s acceptable,” Hoyt said.

“Great well, I have some stuff to finish buying, if that okay with the two of you,” Martin said. He looked from me to Hoyt and then back at me. He was silently asking for our permission.

“Go and enjoy yourself, Martin,” I assured him.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later tonight, at Paul’s place,” Hoyt said with a weak smile.

Martin walked out of the break room, with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. At least one of us was happy.

“Why are you really doing this?” Hoyt asked me, once Martin was gone.

“What do you mean?” I asked back, unclear about Hoyt’s question.

“Why are you trying so hard not to hurt Martin? You don’t love him.” Hoyt asked, the puzzlement in his words clear.

“It is my responsibility as Martin’s master. I owe it to Martin,” I answered.

“Is that the only reason?” Hoyt asked, not satisfied with my answer.

“No, I have other reasons. Private reasons.” I replied in a tone that suggested Hoyt should drop the subject.

“I think I deserve to know what those reasons are. I think I deserve to understand the source of your true motivation. No one does anything for someone else out of the kindness of their heart, “ Hoyt said, clearly unwilling to drop the subject.

“If you must know, I’m doing my best to free Martin from my control, because the man that I love, would expect nothing less from me. That man would be disappointed in me, if I didn’t help Martin to the best of my abilities. So I’m not doing this for you, or for Martin. I’m not even doing it for the man I love. I’m doing it for me. Enlightened self interest, you could call it,” I said stonily. I really wanted Hoyt to drop the subject.

“That I can understand, and accept. I’ll pick up Martin later tonight between 8 and 8:30,” Hoyt said as he turned away from me and started walking back into the store. “Oh, I know where you live,” Hoyt called to me as he looked back over his shoulder as he departed.

Now why did that parting comment from Hoyt make me feel uncomfortable? I shrugged my uneasy feelings off, and headed back into the store. Like Martin, I had some shopping to do.

We finished our shopping about a half an hour later. I didn’t buy anything, but Martin did. He smiled at me as I helped him carry out his bags to the car. Martin had not told me what he’d bought, and I had not asked. If he wanted to keep it a secret for a while, I was fine with that. The trip back to my apartment was as uneventful, as the trip to Western Town had been. We arrived back at around 4:30 PM, plenty of time to play around before Hoyt arrived to pick up Martin.

Martin couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment. He was practically bouncing up and down as we walked from the underground garage to the bank of elevators. He was all smiles and clearly very happy with himself. He was whistling to himself as we rode up in the elevator. Clearly he had something in mind and whatever it was he was impatient to get started. I had a pretty good idea that it had to do with whatever it was he bought at Western Town. I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that Martin also wanted to show me what he had bought. I had to admit that the mystery of Martin’s purchase was adding a little bit of spice to what might have been a tiresome evening. Originally I had not been looked looking forward to spending the evening with Martin since he would be fawning all over me the entire evening. Believe it or not that can get tiresome rather quickly.

“Do you want to eat now Sir or later perhaps?” Martin asked me as he placed his bags of goodies next to the closet. (No I was not talking about his nut sack. I was talking about his shopping bags. Get your mind out of the gutter, dear reader.) I found Martin’s position, bent over at the waist and placing shopping bags on the carpeted floor, to be most enjoyable. As I may have mentioned earlier, Martin had a nice body and in those snug bordering on tight jeans he was wearing, he was a sexy man. I was very much attracted to Martin’s body. I knew that before the night was out, I would wind up exploring the contours of Martin’s butt. The only question was would he be wearing his jeans or wearing his suit pants.

“I’m not hungry right now. We’ll eat later. I could go for a cup of coffee right now though,” I answered after a few moments. I’d been distracted by Martin’s bulging wallet in the right back pocket of his jeans, and the way it made his jeans seen tighter and more sexy.

“I’ll join you if that’s okay with you sir,” Martin said as he turned and headed off to the kitchen.

“That’s fine. I take milk and one sugar by the way,” I called out to him as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Right sir,” Martin acknowledged as the kitchen door closed.

I walked over and sat down on the sofa in the living room. It was as good a time as any to catch my breath and relax. It would take at least five minutes for Martin to bring the coffee in to the living room. So far it seemed that Martin was adjusting well to his new level of freedom. With luck he and Hoyt would once again be an item, which was the best I could hope for. All I could do now, was wait and see what happened.

“Here you go Sir!” Martin cried out as he walked into the room carrying two mugs of coffee. He put one in front of me on the coaster that I had placed on the coffee table. With his free hand Martin placed a second coaster on the coffee table and put his mug of coffee on top of the coaster. Then he sat down in the easy chair just across the coffee table from me.

“Thank you Martin,” I said with a smile.

“You’re welcome Sir. It was a pleasure to get coffee for you,” Martin replied.

“So what shall we do with the rest of the evening? Did you want to talk about something?” I asked after a few moments of silence. I knew Martin would not begin the conversation, as that was not the nature of a slave.

“Well I sort of wanted to show you I got Western Town, sir,” Martin said nervously.

“I had a feeling you might. Go on. Take your bags of goodies in the other room and change in to the clothes or whatever it is you bought at Western Town,” I said with a gentle smile.

“Thank you sir,” Martin said with a smile as he stood up. Quickly he dashed off to the spare bedroom pausing only long enough to collect the shopping bags from beside the closet. If the smile on his face was any indication I was in for a treat.

As I waited for Martin to reappear I played the possibilities over in my mind. A new cowboy shirt and sexy tight jeans? Cowboy chaps? A rope? A lasso? A Western-style suit? The last seemed a strong possibility considering Martin had shown a lot of interests in this section of the store. I sipped my coffee a few more times as I let those thoughts play about in my head. I’d find out soon enough, but it was kind of fun to wonder.

My thoughts drifted off to Hoyt. I mulled over a few possibilities in my mind as to what might happen when he showed up here in a few hours. It took a few minutes for me to come to the conclusion that I’d have to play it by ear and see how events unfolded. I did not know Hoyt or Martin well enough to predict what might happen. During my musings, my coffee had cooled enough for me to take a few small sips. It was very good. Just the way I liked it. I put the coffee mug back down on the coaster, and sat back in the sofa to wait for Martin.

About ten minutes later Martin walked into the room and stood in front of me, a huge happy grin on his face. I looked him over, and quickly decided that I liked what I saw. Martin was wearing a khaki two piece cowboy suit. The suit jacket had a two button closure which was not done up, thus I could see the entire length of the red silk tie, which had a pattern of dark brown horseshoes on it. The tie, stopped just above the dark brown leather cowboy belt that had a simple gold D ring buckle and tongue closure. There was no tie clip in evidence so the tie looked to be free to move around against the plain white shirt that Martin was wearing. I could not see any chest pockets, but it was pretty sure bet that Martin was in fact wearing a cowboy dress shirt. I decided I would have to spend a little time and make that determination for myself. The front of the suit pants, from what I could see, seemed to fit Martin well enough. The crotch area was not loose nor snug. The pants hung down just as one would expect. The suit jacket hung on Martin’s frame, and the sleeves seemed to be the correct length. I usually have to have the sleeves shortened when I buy a suit, but Martin seemed to have a build closer to what is considered ‘average’, than I do.

The khaki suit seemed to fit Martin well. It didn’t seem loose or especially tight, but I had not yet examined it fully. I intended to do that soon enough. The rest of Martin’s outfit consisted of a white cowboy hat sitting on top of his head and a pair of dark brown cowboy boots on his feet. Martin had spent a lot more money than I had intended. So be it. I had told him he could buy whatever he wanted. If he had spent all this money in an effort to please me, who was I to spoil his fun? I decided that I would caution him not to be so extravagant in the future.

“You do look very nice. Would you mind turning about so I can get a view of you from all sides, Martin?” I asked him with a smile.

“Glad to, sir,” Martin answered. He started to turn to his right slowly. It took him a minute or so, to turn about in a full circle. The back of his suit was as nice looking as the front. I noted that the suit jacket had a single central vent at the back. I smiled as I realized that when Martin put his hands in the front pockets of his suit pants, presuming that the suit jacket was buttoned closed, it would cause the back vent to open up in an upside down V, exposing Martin’s butt to my view. Now this was something to look forward to. Right now, though, Martin’s arms were hanging loosely by his sides. He did look nice, all in all.

“I like your outfit, Martin,” I told him.

“Thank you, sir. I hoped you would,” Martin responded. “I’d be happy to show you more of it, if you are interested.” Martin blushed briefly after speaking. He was well aware that I would want to examine his suit in more detail, and he knew full well that such an examination would result in a great deal of physical contact between the two of us. He also knew that he would have a reaction to that contact. (He would be hard as a rock, for those of you who cannot read between the lines.) The sexual simulation would be excessive, and deep down he wanted it to happen. Martin might be rekindling his relationship with Hoyt (I was keeping my fingers crossed on that.), but his desire to serve me in any way would never leave him. Serving me included things of an erotic or sexual nature.

I stood up, walked in to the dining room, pulled one of the chairs away from the dining room table, and turned the chair about so it was facing away from the table. I sat down in the chair. Martin stood where he was, a puzzled look on his face. “Come over here and stand in front of me, boy. I want to examine your outfit and see how well it fits on you,” I told him.

“Yes, sir!” Martin cried out as he hurried over to where I was sitting. A smile blossomed on his face, replacing the puzzlement. He had a good idea of what was going to happen now, and he looked forward to it. How do I know this you ask? (I didn’t read his mind. I can’t do that unless I’m touching him and his mental shields are down. Martin is gifted, remember?) It was an educated guess, based on my previous experience with Martin and his cronies. (See The Coffee Shop IV: Sex, Lies and Duct Tape for details on my first encounter with Martin, also known as Mister Black.) Martin stood in front of me, only about half a metre (that’s one and a half feet ) away from me. Now I could get a very good look at Martin’s outfit.

The western style suit was a two piece khaki suit as I mentioned earlier. The front of the jacket had two western styled peaked flapped pockets, and no breast pocket. Instead there were two peaked western yokes on the front of the jacket. The jacket was single breasted and had a two button closure, which at present was not done up. “Turn around again and after that, hold your jacket open for me, please, Martin,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” Martin replied. He turned about quickly. The back of the suit jacket had two peaked western yokes as one would expect. The jacket had a single vent in the back which was currently closed. Martin reached up and grabbed the open sides of his jacket with his hands. He moved his hands out and to his sides, exposing most of the front of his body.

Now, I had a clear view of the front of his outfit. As I suspected his white dress shirt was in fact a western style dress shirt. The shirt had two breast pockets with snap closures. I reached out and moved his tie aside for a few moments to get a clear look at how well his shirt fit. As expected there were snap closures on the front of the white western style dress shirt. The shirt fit Martin very well. It outlined his torso without clinging to it. I let the tie fall back into place, and turned my attention down south.

The shirt was tucked into a pair of khaki dress pants that matched the colour of the suit jacket. There was a plain dark brown leather belt, with the gold D-ring buckle fastened about Martin’s waist. The belt fit snugly in the keystone belt loops of the suit pants. The front of the suit pants were not pleated, they were plain. I thought that might be the case. The suit pants had western cut front pockets, instead of side angle pockets. There were probably items of some type in the front pockets, although there were no significant bulges to suggest that was the situation. The fly was closed, but there was a noticeable bulge on the right side of the pants, next to the right inner thigh. (Gee, I wonder what that could be? Do you have any ideas, dear reader?) The suit pants fit, Martin well. They had a sharp crease on the front of each leg that started at the same level at the bottom of the fly. (I can hear the boos. You’ll just have to wait to see what happens with the fly, dear reader.) I liked how the pants looked on Martin, at least on the front.

“Slip off the jacket and let it drop to the floor. After that turn around so I can see your back,” I told Martin.

“Yes, sir,” Martin said. He slipped off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor as directed. Still smiling, he let his arms fall to his sides and then turned around, presenting his back and of course his ass, to me.

There wasn’t anything noteworthy about the back of Martin’s dress cowboy shirt, but his pants were another matter. There were two pockets on the back of the pants, both with scalloped western style flap pockets that did not have any type of fastening. There was a big bulge in the right back pocket, and the left pocket looked to be empty. I reached over and lifted up the flaps of the pockets. The right back pocket had no closure. The lips of the right back pocket were pulled slightly apart, which was due, no doubt, to the large hard object that was stuffed in that pocket. The left back pocket had a button through closure that was fastened shut. The pant legs had a sharp crease on them. The back of those pants clung to Martin’s buttocks in a most flattering manner. The wallet bulge in the right back pocket emphasised how the pants followed the nature curves of Martin’s butt cheeks. The material was snug around the crotch and thigh areas as well. The pants looked comfortable and snug without appearing to be binding in any way. I was, pleased. Very pleased. (I was also turned on, but then you probably already figured that out for yourself, dear reader.)

“Take one step backward, towards me, boy,” I ordered Martin.

“Yes, Sir!” Martin barked out as he carried out my order, and moved that sexy cowboy suit encased butt closer to me.

“Bend over so that your hands are resting on your knees and hold that position until I tell you to do otherwise,” I told Martin. I wanted to get the best possible view of that butt while I had the chance.

“Yes, sir,” Martin replied as he suited actions to words.

As I had hoped, by bending over slightly Martin had pulled the material of the suit pants more tightly across his buttocks. (Isn’t physics wonderful?) Slowly I reached out and placed my fingertips lightly on his buttocks, one hand on each buttock. I moved my hands about on Martin’s butt cheeks tracing big circles. I heard Martin moan softly. I continued stroking Martin’s butt for a few more minutes, then I clamped my hands firmly on each buttocks and gave them each a big hard squeeze. The bulge of Martin’s wallet in his right back pocket made it a bit difficult for me to grab his right buttock, but I did my best. Martin’s loud moans of delight indicated that I had been successful in my efforts. I spent about five minutes giving Martin’s butt a good going over, squeezing it stroking it, and moving my hands all over it. It was a satisfying experience. The feeling of those suit pants under my hands, warm, firm and squeezable. So snug in all the right places. Nice buttocks, and wonderful thighs. Martin had a good physique, which only added to the delights I experienced.

“Thank you, sir! That feels so good!” Martin announced in a strong clear voice. “Please don’t stop, sir!”

“Yes, for a little while longer, Martin,” I replied. I continued to explore the smooth polyester covered hemispheres in front of my questing hands and fingers (and my thumbs too), letting my fingers do the walking as it were. So warm and firm. So inviting. So tempting. I closed my eyes, to submerge myself in the feeling of Martin’s wonderful butt. I let out a few soft moans of my own, intermixed with Martin’s. Every now and then I would give each of those beautiful buttocks a firm hard squeeze. Each time I did that Martin would cry out ‘yes squeeze me sir’ followed by a loud grunt of pleasure.

This went on for some time. Exactly how long, I did not know. Long enough for my hands to have tired of squeezing Martin’s bum. (It might seem odd to you, dear reader, that one could tire of squeezing a perfect plump butt like Martin’s, rest assured that it does happen.) Martin’s butt was wonderful. It wasn’t Andy’s butt though, despite its many positive attributes.

“You have a beautiful ass, Martin, especially in those tan cowboy suit pants,” I told him. I wasn’t lying either. If I wasn’t already involved and dedicated to Andy, those tan cowboy suit pants would be feeling a lot more than just my fingers.

“Thank you, sir,” Martin replied with a grunt.

“I’d love to hump that ass of yours,” I said with a sigh. I knew that I would never do such a thing, but it was fun to imagine doing it. The idea of tossing Martin face down on the bed, climbing on top of him and humping his ass, made me smile.

“Oh, would you sir? I’d like that. We can go into the spare bedroom if you like,” Martin said happily. “Do you have any condoms, sir?” he asked me as he stood up and turned about to face me.

“Condoms? I wasn’t serious, Martin,” I answered him, after a brief pause.

“Oh, I see, sir,’ Martin said a few seconds later, the disappointment plain on his face. “Hoyt used to hump me, and I kind of miss it.”

“Well, when Hoyt comes by to pick you up, he could take some time and hump you before the two of you leave,” I said to Martin in an attempt to distract him.

“I don’t know if he would want to do that, sir, but I’ll ask him,” Martin said doubtfully.

“If the two of you haven’t been physical in some time, I can’t see why he would say no. When he arrives here, why don’t you show him just how much you miss him? Pretend I’m not here and really show your man, what he means to you, Martin,” I told him.

“Okay, sir,” Martin responded. “It might embarrass him, sir.”

“Then let it embarrass him. I’m sure you’ll be able to sufficiently occupy Hoyt’s attention, to the point where he won’t care about being embarrassed,” I said with a grin and a wink.

“Oh, I see, sir. I know a couple of things that might do the trick,” Martin said grinning back at me. “What should we do until Hoyt arrives?” Martin asked as he stood there in front of me.

“Something a bit more innocent and more practical,” I said as I turned away from Martin, and walked over to the sofa. I laid down on the sofa and got myself comfortable. I looked over at Martin who hadn’t moved an inch. “Please hand me the remote for the TV, Martin,” I told him.

“Yes, sir,” he answered as he hurried over to the coffee table in front of the living room sofa. “Here you are, sir,” he said as he held out the remote control unit to me.

I took it from him and placed it back on the coffee table directly on front of me, where I could easily reach. “Thank you, Martin. Now take off your cowboy boots,” I said to him.

“Yes, sir,” Martin responded. He sat down in the chair near the far end of the sofa and started his battle to remove the dark brown cowboy boots he was wearing. And it was a battle. Without a boot jack, it can be difficult to take off cowboy boots. I had forgotten that.

“There’s a boot jack in the front hall, Martin. Use that to take off your cowboy boots,” I told him.

“Right away, sir,” Martin said as he headed over to the closet. It took him only a few seconds to find the boot jack. He had removed his cowboy boots a few seconds later. “Now what sir?” He asked me as he stood there next to the closet in his stocking feet.

“Come over here, climb up on top of me and keep me warm. Be a blanket for me, but leave your suit jacket off,” I told him, with a smile as I turned on my side and moved against the back of the sofa. I wanted to be sure there was enough room on the sofa for both of us. Nothing ruins the fun more than having the other guy fall off of you and wind up lying on the floor.

“Great idea, sir!” Martin replied gleefully. His eyes practically lit up as he rushed over to the sofa. He quickly climbed up on the sofa and started to position his body over mine. It was clear he was unsure exactly how to lie down on top of me without causing me discomfort. He looked up at me a few times as he tried to figure out how to place himself on me.

“It might be easier if you just snuggled in close to me, facing me, and rested your head on my shoulder, with your face turned so that you can breath,” I told him. “That way you can cover as much of my body with yours and I can reach down and squeeze your ass, if I feel so inclined.”

“You always have the most wonderful ideas, sir,” Martin said happily as he snuggled up next to me and pressed his fit body next to mine. “You smell really good, sir,” he commented as he placed his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes.

“You’re a good boy, Martin. I’m going to do some channel surfing, and you’re going to stay there until I say otherwise,” I told him.

“Of course, sir,” Martin agreed. I strongly suspected that wild horses could not have dragged Martin away from me. He was very happy to keep pressing his body to mine, in an attempt to keep me warm. Sometimes, simple pleasures are the best.

I watched a couple of television shows while Martin did his best to keep me warm. During some of the commercial breaks I did reach down and give that big beautiful bum of his a few hard squeezes. Martin had a wonderful ass, so hard, firm, warm and sexy. Martin snuggled even closer when I caressed his buttocks. He did get up and leave a couple of times, when he had to use the bathroom, and when I asked him to make me a cup of coffee. Otherwise we snuggled until the doorbell rang.

Martin sighed with reluctance as he climbed up off of the sofa and went to answer the door. “It’s Hoyt, sir,” he said after looking through the peephole.

“Let him in,” I told him, and I climbed up off of the sofa.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, as he opened the door.

Hoyt walked into the room. “Hey there stud,” he said to Martin as he smiled at him. He turned away from Martin and looked at me. “Hello Paul,” he said calmly. Hoyt had changed his clothes since our meeting at Western Town. He had a pale solid blue cowboy shirt on, that was tucked into a pair of well fitting dark blue jeans, with a plain brown belt in them. The belt did not have a cowboy buckle, just the usual D-ring arrangement. He appeared to be wearing a jean jacket and there were sneakers on his feet, instead of cowboy boots. His head was bare. He had left the cowboy hat and the cowboy boots at home for some reason. I was mildly disappointed, but I covered it well.

“Hi Hoyt. I think Martin would like your attention,” I said to him in a pleasant voice.

“Yeah, Hoyt. I want to spend some time with you in the spare bedroom,” Martin said as he looked Hoyt in the eye.

“And do what?” Hoyt asked.

“What we used to do in the bedroom,” Martin said with a smile.

“What if I’m not in the mood right now?” Hoyt said, as if he didn’t believe what Martin was telling him.

Martin grabbed Hoyt and wrapped his arm about Hoyt’s torso, while he planted a firm hard kiss on Hoyt’s lips. Martin began smooching Hoyt good and hard. Martin’s hands moved around Hoyt’s back as he did his best to get a reaction out of Hoyt. Martin’s hand moved down to Hoyt’s bum and gave his buttocks a firm hard squeeze. While it is true that I was not able to see Hoyt’s ass, since Hoyt was facing me, and thus his back and buttocks were facing away from me, I was able to deduce where Martin’s hands were most likely heading. Hoyt’s reaction was exactly what you would expect from a man who has not been touched by his lover in many months. Hoyt melted in Martin’s arms. Hoyt gave himself up totally to Martin’s caresses. Hoyt returned with fervour, the kisses Martin was pouring over Hoyt’s face and neck. By the way, I was getting another delightful eyeful of Martin’s ass in those cowboy suit pants at the same time. So you could say everybody was getting something good right then.

“Take it in the bedroom, boys,” I told them with a chuckle.

“What? Oh, yeah. The bedroom. Lead the way, Martin,” Hoyt said as he came to his senses for a few seconds.

Martin unwrapped himself from Hoyt and smiled at him as he took Hoyt’s left hand in his right hand. After tossing a sexy smile at Hoyt, Martin wordlessly lead Hoyt off to the spare bedroom. I delighted in watching Martin’s sexy ass as he walked away from me.

“You can come in and watch us if you like, Paul,” Hoyt called out to me. “Think of it as a reward for giving Martin back to me.”

“Uh...okay,” I said hesitantly. I was somewhat taken aback by Hoyt’s casual attitude in offering to let me see them perform such an intimate act. Still the voyeur in me was extremely tempted by the offer. I knew that Martin would not care if I watched him, but for Hoyt to make such an offer was remarkable. After a few seconds, I decided to go in and watch. Who knew? I might just pick up some tips.

When I arrived in the bedroom, Hoyt had his jacket off. It was lying on the floor behind him. He was still wearing his jeans. He stood there looking at the bed, totally ignoring my entrance into the bedroom. I looked over at the bed and instantly knew why Hoyt wasn’t paying me the slightest sliver of attention.

Martin was on top of the bed, on all fours in the classic doggy position. His suit pants were down around his ankles. His white cotton briefs were bundled down sitting on top of his suit pants. He was still wearing his white cowboy shirt and the red silk tie with the pattern of dark brown horseshoes. The tie was hanging straight down from his neck, with the first inch or so of the tie lying flat on the surface of the bed. Martin was ready and willing to be taken. If his position on the bed was not a dead giveaway to his intentions, his constant soft mutterings of “Take me, Hoyt” were. Martin’s cock was fully erect and jutting out like a small six or seven inch rod of steel.

Hoyt sauntered over to Martin. Hoyt wasn’t in any rush. I suspect he wanted to drag things out a bit and make Martin plead a bit longer. Maybe he wanted to make Martin suffer a bit longer. Maybe he wanted to make Martin beg for it. In any case, I was merely the observer. I kept my big mouth shut. Hoyt stood in front of the bed looking at the target before him. Hoyt was standing in front of me, his back to me, so I carefully moved forward and off to the side so that I would have a good view of what was about to happen. Seeing it from the rear wasn’t going to be very educational, if you know what I mean.

Hoyt reached down and unzipped his jeans. “Are you ready for this, Martin?” He asked as he pried his stiffening member out of his snug jeans.

“Yes, oh yes. I want this. I want to feel you filling up my ass again. It’s been so long,” Martin cried out, the longing, the desire, the urgency so very prevalent in his voice.

“Good boy,” Hoyt said as he reached back and fished out his wallet from the right back pocket of his jeans. I made note that Hoyt carried a large brown leather cowboy style wallet in the right back pocket of his jeans. The wallet was thick and it filled out Hoyt’s jeans in a most becoming manner. If Hoyt were not gifted and already involved in Martin, I might have more than a passing fancy in him.

The insertion of Hoyt’s wallet back into the right back pocket of his jeans, grabbed my attention. I flicked my eyes back to the front of Hoyt’s jeans. Hoyt unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans. With a smooth well practiced motion Hoyt slide his jeans down off his hips and into a heap at his ankles. His white cotton briefs followed quickly. Hoyt started to fiddle with something in his hands, in front of his cock. It did not take me long to realize that Hoyt was slipping a condom over his now fully erect cock. I had wondered whether or not Hoyt was going to ride bareback on Martin. (In case you are not aware of it, dear reader, the term ‘bareback’ refers to anal sex without the use of a condom.) I was pleased to see that Hoyt had enough respect for Martin to have safe sex with him. (In case you were wondering, dear reader, Hoyt’s fully erect member looked to be about six inches long, full bodied, firm and as hard as a rod of steel, projecting outward.)

“Ride’em cowboy!” Hoyt cried out as he launched himself on top of Martins willing asshole. I cringed at the sound of that somewhat hokey phrase, and kept my comments to myself. Hoyt slowed down suddenly as the tip of his throbbing cock brushed the dark hairs guarding Martin’s butt crack.

“Oh yes! Do it! Do it now! Take me now, Hoyt! Fuck my brains out!” Martin cried out a half a second later. Martin reached back with both hands and grabbed his buttocks, pulling them apart, exposing the pink eye of his anus. Actually my angle of view didn’t let me see that, but it was a foregone conclusion that Hoyt was seeing something along those lines.

“Good Boy! You remembered to open the doors for me,” Hoyt said happily.

Again I kept my comments to myself. It seemed clear to me that there were some unwritten rules about just who did what to whom, when it came to sex between Hoyt and Martin. Hoyt was clearly the more dominant of the two, and as such he expected Martin to do certain things, including begging to be fucked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but then I reminded myself that it wasn’t my concern. Whatever goes on between consenting adults, is their business, not mine.

Loud grunts, moans, groans and very heavy breathing soon filled spare bedroom. Once again, I was thankful for the sound proofing that was standard for all the apartments in this complex. Hoyt slipped his throbbing condom covered member into Martin’s eager asshole. Hoyt didn’t ram it in like a pile driver, he moved it in gradually and very slowly. He was building up the pleasure towards what was sure to be their mutual orgasm. He muttered something to Martin, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, from where I was standing. (I was not, dear reader, standing right there beside the two of them as they had sex. I was standing nearly across the room. I wanted to give them some sense of privacy, even if they had invited me to watch.) A few moments later Hoyt stared to thrust himself deeper into Martin, with a wonderful rhythm that showed he had done this before. It didn’t take Martin long to pick up on the rhythm and match Hoyt’s movements. Clearly they each knew their roles. I thrilled at the sight of these to experts giving me a free lesson in the art of lovemaking between two men. A slight buzzing in my head told me I was becoming a bit too focussed on what was going on. I ignored it and kept my attention on what was happening in front of me, that is until I felt that creepy crawly feeling on my forehead. I raised my mental shields to protect my mind, but as quick as I was, I barely acted in time.

The pile driver blow of pain that crashed into my brain almost knocked me unconscious. Imagine if you can a red hot needle boring into your skull, slowly and relentlessly, right between your eyes. Now take that needle and make it the size of a baseball bat, pushing its way into your head, and you will have a very rough idea of the pain I experienced. The pain was overwhelming. The only thing that kept me sane and conscious was the fact that I had my mental shields partly raised at the time. Whomever sent that mental bolt wasn’t fooling around. Since mental attacks amongst the gifted are short range, it had to be someone in the room. So it was either Martin or Hoyt. If that first bolt was any indication, I was in very deep trouble.

My eyes were filled with pain generated tears. I blinked my eyes frantically, in an effort to clear my vision. I had to figure out what was going on, and to try to defend myself. A mental attack was in progress, but that didn’t rule out a physical attack at the same time. A series of pile driver blows started to rain down upon my mind, pushing aside all attempts to analyse the situation. Survival was the only priority now. Frantically I strengthened my mental shields, in an attempt to buy myself enough time to figure out a plan of defence and then attack. The increased shield strength dulled the pain of each bolt slightly, but that was all. I finally managed to open my eyes, and to look about the room. The only people I saw were Martin and Hoyt, who were still coupled together. The mental bolts were rattling my mind, making it hard for me to think or concentrate, which was the general idea, I was sure. Still I hung on and resisted, drawing on more and more of my mental energy to stiffen my shields. Behind my rock hard mental shield, I prepared my tried and trusted defence, my absorbing shield. My main shield was already showing cracks, and would not last much longer. Those hammer like mental bolts were more powerful than anything I had ever encountered. They couldn’t be coming from one person, unless that person was a superman. My absorbing shield, though was different. Any mental blots thrown against it would be as effective as hitting a pile of sticky mud with a baseball bat. The force of the blow from the bat is dissipated and absorbed by the mud, and the mud remains unharmed. The same thing would happen when Hoyt’s mental bolts impacted my absorbing shield.

Martin could not be the source of the attack. He could no more attack me, than he could transform into a bird. Martin’s mental condition where he was my totally devoted slave remained in place. I looked at Martin. He was oblivious to what was happening. He remained on all fours, looking at the bedroom wall in front of him, if he was looking at anything, and he was rocking his body and moaning with delight. Martin was still enjoying having his ass ridden by Hoyt.

I turned my attention to Hoyt. He was not looking at me. His eyes were closed and he was smiling and moaning as well. He looked like he was caught up in the throes of passion as well. If it wasn’t him, then who could it be? Some invisible man in the room? That didn’t make sense. Behind my mental shield I created a mental bolt of my own. It wasn’t strong enough to hurt anyone, but it would be enough to get a person’s attention. I didn’t have the energy to spare to make a mental bolt with any significant offensive power. I was too busy defending myself to start fighting back. I launched the bolt at Hoyt.

As the bolt neared him, Hoyt turned his head and looked me dead in the eyes. He parried that mental bolt with ease, just as I expected he would. I felt a shiver race up and down my spine at that contact. Hoyt’s expression changed from one of profound bliss, to one of triumph. As I had suspected, Hoyt was behind the mental attack on me. I should have seen it coming. I allowed myself to be lulled into a sense of security. Sometimes I can be pretty stupid. Hoyt grinned at me, and there wasn’t a trace of friendliness in that smile. Hoyt launched a series of mental bolts at me. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the impact. It would not be pleasant.

After a few more blows, my main mental shield shattered like a pane of glass when a bullet hits it. I let the pieces fall away and poured my remaining energy into my absorbing shield. Hoyt’s bolts plunged deep into the absorbing shield and dissipated as their energy became mine. I felt wave upon wave of strength return to my body and mine as my mental energy reserves were replenished. The pain faded away, and my mind cleared. Now I could turn my full attention to Hoyt and get myself out of this mess. I’d done it before. I knew exactly what to do.

Hoyt’s expression didn’t change. He merely nodded his head at me, as if he’d expected me to do exactly what I had done. He tossed a few more mental bolts at my absorbing shield, but they were much weaker bolts. That creepy crawly feeling was back on the front of my forehead. Something very bad was about to happen.

Hoyt didn’t do anything for about thirty seconds, which in terms of mental combat, is a very long time. I centred myself and remained calm. Getting nervous, excited or scared would only play into whatever it was that Hoyt had planned. I kept one thought clear in my mind. I didn’t start this fight, but I was damn sure I was going to finish it.

Hoyt’s next bolt arrived at the outside of my absorbing shield. Unlike his previous mental bolts that were hard sharp and explosive, this bolt was nearly as soft and putty like as my shield. The bolt morphed into a big scoop and dug deep into my shield. Before I realized it, this scoop and gouged out a big deep trough in my shield. It didn’t expose the surface of my mind, but it was more than half way through my absorbing shield. My shield instantaneously filled in the trough, and reconfigured itself. I was still protected, but the power of my shield was significantly reduced. If Hoyt kept this up, my shield would be gone in only a few minutes, no matter how much power I poured in to it. I needed some other form of defence, but what?

Hoyt sent scoop after scoop at me. He continued to dig away at my defences, while I remained behind my shield and tried to work out what to do. I sent a probe towards Hoyt’s mental shield, and was surprised to discover that it had the same texture as my absorbing shield. This suggested that if I used a scoop on his shield I could attack him as well. I created a bulge in my shield and prepared to launch it at Hoyt. The creepy crawly feeling came back with a vengeance. This was not the solution, despite how logically correct it appeared. I trusted my instincts and warnings. I’d have to find another way. But what, damn it?

My shield continued to be scraped away by Hoyt’s scoops. Time was running out. I suppose I could have walked over to Hoyt and punched or kicked him in an attempt to break his concentration, but I would have broken my own concentration in the process, which would have made the situation even worse for me. I was mentally pulling my hair out to no avail. No brilliant insights were popping into my head. It seemed my idea machine was stuck in the mud. Yeah, my idea machine was definitely mired in some deep sticky mud. Sticky mud. An idea started to form as another of Hoyt’s scoops formed in a prelude to attacking me again. I concentrated for a few moments and imagined the structure of my shield becoming a mass of very sticky mud that could not be moved with a bulldozer.

I felt the impact of Hoyt’s mental scoop on my shield, but this time it was different. Instead of feeling it digging in and pulling away, I felt the scoop dig in and then stop moving. Relief washed over me as I felt the energy of the scoop dissolve into my mud shield. My mud shield became stronger as the scoop energy was assimilated. Hoyt send several more scoops into my mud shield before he finally gave up that mode of attack. Hoyt switched back to sending powerful explosive mental bolts into my mud shield. A stream of mental bolts flew from Hoyt’s mind into mine. They were coming so fast that I quickly lost count. The number of mental blots didn’t make any difference. They were completely ineffective. The explosions were contained by the mud shield and the energy of the attacks completely absorbed. The energy continued to flow into my mud shield and into my mind. Calmness returned as I realized that the danger had passed. Hoyt’s plan to attack me, for whatever reason, had failed.

I stood there and let Hoyt continue his attack, throwing his mental bots at my mud shield. He tried various different types. All were equally ineffective. After fifteen minutes, Hoyt stopped attacking my shield. He appeared to be mildly surprised that the result of our mental battle, but not concerned. He turned away from me and turned back to Martin, as if I were no longer important. I found that a most odd reaction. In fact, I felt a little bit insulted. I kept my mental shield up, and decided to wait and see what would happen. Something very strange was going on. Caution would be wise, until I determined the nature of the situation. The creepy crawly feeling was gone, which might mean that my battle with Hoyt was finished, at least for now.

“Had enough for now, Martin?” Hoyt asked with a sigh, followed by a yawn.

“Oh yes, Hoyt. My ass is very happy. I am kind of tired though,” Martin said.

“You’re my good boy, Martin,” Hoyt said as he slowly withdrew his cock from Martin’s asshole. His condom covered cock was only semi-erect now, and there were a few smudges of brown on the surface. Hoyt carefully peeled the used condom off of his slowly deflating penis and look around the room.

“The bathroom is down the hall, the first door on the left,” I said. Hoyt nodded his head at me as he bent down and snagged his jeans and underwear with his free left hand. It took him a few moments to get his underwear and jeans up to the level of his crotch, using only one hand. Hoyt turned about and shuffled off to the bathroom, as well as he was able. Once he was gone I turned my attention back to Martin.

With a quick roll Martin launched himself off of the bed, and on to his feet. This was quite a feat considering that his pants and underwear were still about his ankles. Martin wasted no time dressing himself once he was off the bed. He grinned at me just before he turned away from me, bent down and pulled his underwear up and onto that bubble butt of his. The little sneak was giving me a show that he knew I’d enjoy. Martin sashayed his hips and butt at me for a second or two, before he slowly bent over and grabbed the tops of his cowboy suit pants. He pulled them up to his waist in one smooth clean motion. I enjoyed how the pants were pulled up and over that bubble butt. I especially liked the way the bulge of Martin’s wallet in the right back pocket of those suit pants, made the pants appear tighter across his buttocks. A few seconds Martin turned about and faced me. His shirt was tucked into his suit pants and his suit pants were closed, and his belt buckled. He smiled at me as he passed me heading out of the room. I followed. I needed to keep an eye on him and on Hoyt. The mental fight might be over, but then again, maybe it wasn’t.

I followed Martin to the living room and dining room area of my apartment. When I arrived in the room Martin was in the dining room area sitting on one of the dining room chairs, putting on his cowboy boots. A few seconds later Hoyt entered the room. He looked at me coolly, and did not offer any explanation for what had happened in the spare bedroom. I wasn’t prepared to let matters stand. I still had my mental shields up and I was ready for another mental fight, if it came to that.

“Care to explain what happened in there, Hoyt?” I asked him, keeping a tight rein on my tempter.

“What makes you think I know what you’re talking about?” Hoyt said, with an innocent look on his face.

“Don’t play games,” I said to him. “Cut the crap, and tell me what that little altercation was all about. What were you trying to pull?”

“I would think someone with your reputation would have figured it out by now, but if you need me to explain things to you, fine. Just pay attention. I don’t want to have to explain this to you more than once,” Hoyt said as if he was conferring a huge favour on me by answering my question. The man was surprisingly arrogant, considering I’d just whipped his ass, mentally. I decided to ignore his attitude. Getting upset wouldn’t help me, and I needed to know what was going on before I took any action. I was beginning to regret turning Martin over to Hoyt, if this was Hoyt’s idea of saying ‘thank you’.

“You have my undivided attention. Please proceed,” I said politely.

“You probably think that the little contest we just had was the result of me trying to enact some revenge upon you for what you did to Martin,” Hoyt began.

“It better not be, Hoyt. Because if it is, I won’t stand for it. I won’t let you hurt Paul, even though I do love you,” Martin interrupted, shooting a glare at Hoyt.

“Thank you Martin,” I said soothingly, as I turned and looked at Martin. He had his right cowboy boot on, and was holding the left cowboy boot in the air, his left foot poised just above the boot. “Let’s let Hoyt speak for a bit, okay?”

“Okay,” Martin agreed. He looked over at Hoyt, and put the left cowboy boot back on the floor, forgetting for the moment that he was getting dressed.

“As I was saying,” Hoyt continued after a brief pause to make sure neither Martin nor I were going to say anything else. “You would be mistaken if you were to think that the motive behind our little dispute was solely motivated by my desire to enact justice upon you. While it is true that such a motive was a contributing factor to my actions, it was not the primary motivation.”

Either Hoyt loved to hear himself talk, or he was a master using fifteen words where one would do.

“Pray tell, what was the primary motivation, as you call it?” I asked. Suddenly I had a bad feeling about this. A very bad, and very familiar feeling.

“It was a test, sponsored by the Council,” Hoyt answered, with a you-should-have-known-that

look on his face. Unspoken was the full name of this council. It could be no other than the Council of Coins.

Bingo! I should have guessed. I let out a sigh of exasperation. Would the Council of Coins ever stop testing me? “I take it I passed your little test, since I survived your attack?” I asked Hoyt.

“Yes, you passed. I’m not sure how, but pass you did,” Hoyt admitted.

I looked at Hoyt and studied him. For someone who’d just had a rather intense mental battle, he didn’t look as tired as he should. He looked a bit drained, but not as much as I would have expected. I was feeling energetic, but only because I’d siphoned off most of the energy that Hoyt had tried to use against me.

“There. That’s better,” Martin declared as he stomped his feet a couple of times, while still sitting in the dining room chair. His movement and his words, derailed my train of thought, as well as distracting my attention from Hoyt. Martin had managed to finish putting on his cowboy boots. They were not broken in yet, which is why he had to stomp his feet. Martin let out three huge yawns, one after another. “Don’t know why I’m so tired all of a sudden. I feel like I could sleep for a week. You’ve never tired me out like this before, Hoyt.”

Hoyt smiled warmly at Martin. It was the first sign I’d seem from Hoyt so far that he really cared for Martin. “I’ll take you home, safe and sound, that is if Paul’s done with you for today,” he said to Martin and then turned to look at me.

“I think we’re done for today, Martin. You’ve been a good boy for me today. Now you can go home with Hoyt and spend some time with him,” I told Martin. Martin beamed at me, like a kid who was just given his favourite candy.

“Just let me get my stuff from the other room, and we can go, Hoyt,” Martin said as he walked over to his suit jacket that was still lying on the living room floor. Martin bent over, picked up the suit jacket, and then straighten up again in one easy fluid motion. He slipped the jacket on and headed off to the spare bedroom to pick up his bags and his other clothes. I was fairly certain that Martin would pack up his other clothes and his other suit into the duffle bag and other bags as needed. Martin suppressed yet another yawn as he left the room

That’s when it dawned on me. I knew what Hoyt had done. I knew now, why Hoyt’s mental attack had seemed so powerful.

“You drained Martin’s mental powers when you battled me. That’s why Martin’s so tired, and you’re not,” I said to Hoyt. It was a statement of fact, not a question.

“You really are slow, aren’t you?” Hoyt commented. I looked at Hoyt but he didn’t say anything else. I guess that was as close as Hoyt was going to come to admitting the truth to me. “I can’t believe you’re still being considered as a serious candidate.” He muttered half to himself.

“Candidate for what?” I asked him.

“It’s not my place to say. You will learn when the time is right,” Hoyt said with a mischievous grin.

I didn’t like the sound of that at all, but now was not the time. I wanted Hoyt and Martin out of my apartment. I wanted to relax for a while.

“Here’s your jacket, Hoyt,” Martin said as he came into to room, carrying his duffle bag, shopping bags and Hoyt’s jean jacket.

“Thanks, Martin,” Hoyt said as he walked up to Martin, kissed him on the lips and took the jacket from him. Hoyt slipped his jacket on. “Let me carry that for you,’ Hoyt said as he took the duffle back from Martin.

“Good idea,” Martin said cheerfully. He walked over to the front hall closet and picked up the clothes and shoes he’d stored their earlier.

I walked them to the door, and then out of my apartment. They paid me little attention. They were both too involved with each other’s company to spare me more than a simple good-bye, which suited me just fine. Martin would be happy with Hoyt. Hoyt was pleased to have Martin back. I had one less devoted slave I had to spend time with. We were all winners. A part of me fervently hoped that I would not be seeing Hoyt anytime soon. I smiled as I realized that I now had the solution to dealing with my other three devoted slaves, if they each were involved with some significant person before I had changed them. I filed those thoughts away to be dealt with at a later time. All I wanted right now was a hot bath and a massage.

I looked at the clock. It was only 8:45 P.M. It wasn’t too late. I looked up the phone number for Mister Yellow. He’d be thrilled beyond belief to be called to my home to serve me. What’s the point in having a devoted slave, if you don’t call upon his services every once in a while?