Disclaimer: If you don't like or aren't allowed to read hot man-sex, then go somewhere else. Otherwise, let me know what you like about it! Or what you'd like to see in the next chapter. This has some raunch in it, but presumably that's why you're here, right? Copyrighted by the author.
Part 1:
If you read Fanmail.1, you know about Jo, the 21-year-old navy stud who wrote me fan mail about one of my stories. We kept on exchanging mails, and one day he wrote me, "I'm looking for a Dom top who does what he wants really. My only limitation so far is I don't like intense physical pain all that much. I'm 21, 5'9 blonde hair, blue eyes, 150 lbs., 7cut slim/athletic smooth. I look for guys who are dominant and are experienced. I need someone that makes the rules not me."
We exchanged some more emails, and then one day I get one that ends this way: "All this talk about this has made me awful excited thinking about waiting in a room by myself, naked- for you to come in and completely dominate me. What a rush! Take me now and make me your bitch ;)"
Well, how often do you get an offer like that from a hot 21-year-old stud, who's blond, built from working out in the navy, and cute as fuck (yeah, he'd sent me his pic one day, taken just before he'd gone into the navy, playing beach volleyball with some friends).
So, I wrote him back and told him to let me know as soon as he got a weekend pass and I'd take him to Steamworks, a hot Chicago bathhouse. I met him at Belmont, a station on the Red line in Boystown, the gay part of Chicago. His hair was shorter than in the photo and he was bulkier from all that working out (boot camp, maybe), but he was still a cute- as-fuck young guy. I'd also sent him a picture of me awhile back, and as came down the stairs from the El, he was anxiously looking around the crowd. His face turned toward mine and his eyes lit up, so it must have been a good pic LOL. He came over, with just a pack slung over one shoulder, in civvies, and gave me a big hug. I hugged him back and said, "Let's go."
He let me go first, but once we were out of the crowd, I wanted to talk to him, so I dropped back to walk beside him. I wanted things to be clear from the beginning, so I slid my hand down the small of his back between his pants and his skin, and we walked with my hand on his ass-inside his pants. He shivered when my hand went in but otherwise gave no indication that this wasn't how he walked down the street every day.
"OK, Jo, we're going to have a couple of drinks in a bar a few blocks away, and then we're going to have dinner at a restaurant I know. Then it's on to a more ... aggressive bar, before we head to Steamworks for the real fun. Everywhere we go, from this moment on until you leave at the end of the weekend, I own you. Are you clear on that, bitch?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you sure you really understand this, boy? If I tell you to strip naked and suck me off on that street corner, you will do it. Do you understand?"
He shivered again. "Yes, sir."
I rubbed my finger up and down his crack. "Good boy." And then we kept walking down the street, him keeping his eyes straight ahead, and me enjoying the looks we got, a forty-something bearded man with his hand down the pants of a 21-year-old boy walking beside him. The men my age were jealous as fuck, and somewhat to my surprise the guys his age were generally not scornful. We got some raised eyebrows and doubletakes from the younger crowd; one couple laughed and ostentatiously put their hands down each others' backsides (they had no shirts on though, so it was a little easier).
We walked down Belmont to Halstead, where we turned left and then walked a few more blocks until we came to Roscoe's. We went in, and I told Jo to get us drinks: he had a beer and I had a jack and coke. As we hung around drinking, several other guys came up and cruised us. One semi-drunk thirty-something tried to draw Jo into conversation, but I shook my head.
"He's mine," I said to the intruder and snapped my fingers, pointing at the floor. Jo blushed red but dropped to his knees where I pointed. The guy got the idea and left. But he patted Jo on the head as he walked away.
A young guy about Jo's age came up and asked, "Is he yours, then?" I said yeah, and the guy said, "Shit he's lucky. I wish I had a handsome master like you." He licked his lips suggestively and said, "I know a stud like you could handle both of us."
I laughed because if you're a top, it's hot as fuck to have two bottom boys intent on pleasing you simultaneously. This guy was a dark-haired version of Jo, only he had a leather vest on over his jeans and you could see that both his nipples were pierced. He took one of my hands and rubbed it over his nipple, letting me finger the ring. As I played with the ring he moaned a little and opened his mouth. I tugged on the boy's ring, using it to pull him over to me, where I gave him a hard, long kiss. When I pulled back, I rubbed his cheek softly and said, "You're cute. We're going to Steamworks later tonight, so if you wanna meet us there later, we can three-way."
He broke out in a big grin, rubbed my bulge through the jeans, and said, "Oh, I will stud, I will." And then he winked at me before he walked off. I looked down at Jo, expecting him to be seething, but instead he was smiling. I cupped his chin and raised him back up with my hand.
"What the fuck are you smiling about?"
"Hey, it's fuckin hot that everybody wants my man. And you stay with me, when you could dump me in a minute and go off with anybody you wanted. Of course I'm smiling, sir. I'm lucky as shit to have you."
I shook my head and leaned over and kissed him, hard. And then told him to get us another round. While he was gone, a guy around thirty, also dressed in jeans with a leather top, came up and asked if I wanted to share my boy. I shook my head but told him, "If you want some of this boy later, come to Steamworks. We're going there after dinner, and I might be in a mood to share after I've fucked him silly."
The man grinned "Thanks, man."
Jo came back with the drinks, and I told him to chug his. He obediently did and then burped a couple of times afterwards. I told him to bring the bottle and follow me. We went to the bathroom at the back of the bar.
"You have to piss, boy?"
"Yessir."
"Good. Fill the beer bottle, boy."
He looked surprised but unzipped, fished his dick out and after a few seconds the piss started flowing out of his cock into the beer bottle. One of the other guys in the restroom licked his lips. I told Jo to stop pissing. He raised his eyebrows but managed to shut off the flow. I pointed to the guy who'd licked his lips and beckoned him over.
"You want some of this, boy?" He nodded and licked his lips again. I pointed to the floor in front of Jo, and the guy knelt down and opened his mouth. I told Jo to put his cock in the guy's mouth and piss. He looked shocked but then hefted his dick in one hand and held it up. The guy, who was prolly thirty-something, with tats all over his chest under his open vest, leaned forward and took the dick. It took Jo awhile, but he eventually started pissing. Not having any experience with this, he must have pissed too hard, because while the pissboy was swallowing like a champ, some of it spilled out of his mouth and ran down his chest, wetting his jeans. It was hot to see the guy swallowing and watch the wet stain spreading down to his crotch. Finally, Jo was through and pulled out.
"Thank you sir," the pissboy said. Jo looked uncomfortable but told him he was welcome.
"You think you can handle that later tonight?" I asked him. Jo looked nervous but said he'd try. "No, boy, there is no `try'. I fucking own you, remember?"
"Yes sir"
"So when I ask you to do something, what's your answer?"
"I'll do it, sir."
"You don't seem to totally have the point yet, bitch. Kneel down. Take the beer bottle and drink all the piss you put into it before pissboy here took over." He knelt, looking embarrassed and excited all at once, his dick still hanging out of his pants. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a tentative sip. I massaged his cock with my foot and told him to chug the rest of it. My foot played with his cock while he drank. His dick started getting hard.
A guy behind me said, "Shit, that faggot's getting hard from drinking piss. What a fuckup." Another guy laughed and said, "To each his own, baby. Just be glad I don't make you do that." I heard more laughter and the door opening.
Jo put the bottle down and looked up at me. I was still rubbing his dick with my black leather shoe. "Lick my shoe, baby. Show everyone in here you're my bitch." He blushed again but bent down to the floor and licked my leather shoe all over. I let him awhile and noticed a couple of guys were rubbing their crotches, watching us. One guy, older than Jo but still in his twenties, I'd guess, was all grunged out, rubbing the bulge in his torn jeans, and licking his lips. I beckoned him over and ran my hand through a big rip in his tee-shirt, finding a nipple ring and twisting and pulling on it.
"Makes you hot to see my bitch down there, doesn't it, boy?" He licked his lips again and nodded. "Bet you'd like me to put you on your knees down there with him, wouldn't you?" Without waiting for an answer, I pulled my hand out of his shirt and pushed down hard on his bony shoulder. "Down, bitch, and lick my shoe, you faggot." He almost fell to the floor. Once down, he looked up at me with a curious look on his face that I couldn't completely interpret. Maybe a combination of resigned and resentful? Anyway, I held his eyes until he dropped them. When he did, I knew I had him. I nudged his balls with the foot Jo wasn't licking, and then put my foot back on the concrete floor. The boy started licking my shoe. I told Jo to get up and go rinse his mouth out at the sink. All the time, grungeboy was still licking my shoe. His bulge was getting bigger.
I was impressed when Jo came back that his dick was still out of his pants since I hadn't told him to put it back in yet. It looked like, for all his youth and inexperience, this boy might be able to do what he was told. But his dick wasn't just hanging any more. Apparently, watching grungeboy lick my shoe was getting my blonde bitch hard. Seeing that, I told grungeboy to suck my bitch's cock. He didn't say anything, but turned to Jo and took his dick in his mouth, starting to suck it in and out. Apparently, he was liking being my bitch's bitch because he started rubbing his bulge again. His jeans had a strategically placed hole near the crotch, and pretty soon his cock head was poking out. I told him to stop playing with himself and concentrate on the cock in his mouth. He did as he was told, and Jo started moaning. I pulled grungeboy's mouth off Jo and shoved his face into my own jean-covered bulge, telling Jo to get his dick back in his pants. After he finally got his cock back in, I shoved grungeboy's head back from my crotch and said, "If you want more of this, come to Steamworks later."
"I'd love to, dude, but I don't have any money."
I pulled out my wallet and gave him a couple of twenties. "Now you do."
"Thanks, dude!" Then he paused. "But why would you give me money? You don't know me from fuck, and there's plenty of guys who'll do whatever you want. Including your friend over there."
I smiled and ran my hand around his cheek. When I got to his mouth, it opened automatically and I stuck my index finger in. He started sucking it reflexively. "Oh, it's be kind to grungeboys day." And I took my finger out, wiped his spit on his cheek, and patted his head. "Come on, Jo." And we left the bathroom.
"Wow, that was intense," Jo said as we walked through the bar.
"How was the piss?"
"Not as bad as I thought, honestly. I've been pissed on once before by a guy, but I've never drunk it. I've had coffee in the navy that was almost that bad." And he smiled.
I think one of the things I most like about Jo is that even though in some ways he's a really slutty bitch, he's totally accepting of who he is and even embraces it. You couldn't have a normal conversation with most guys about the piss they'd just drunk at your command. They'd either be resentful or embarrassed or something. But Jo just answered me matter-of-factly, pleased at the new experience, almost like I'd bought him a drink he'd never had before and he was telling me whether he'd ever order it again or not.
We went out the door, and the sun was definitely lower in the sky than when we'd gone in. We kept going north on Halstead, stopping in at Cupid's Treasure, a sex-toy/erotica shop. We went in, and I had him try on various collars. We got the opinions of several other guys in the store. Jo blushed some but he never demurred. I think my little bitch enjoys being embarrassed in public. Or maybe he's just really obedient. Anyway, we settled on a chain collar that was reasonably tight around his neck, with just room for me to slip my hand in in case I wanted to use the collar to drag him by. I locked it on him and the salesclerk gave me a thin chain with the padlock key on it to loop over my neck. I also got some Velcro wrist cuffs that I put on my blonde bitch. I thought about a vest, but just decided to leave him in his tight tee. Finally, I bought a long, braided nylon strap with big loops in each end. It was some kind of fetter, though it didn't really tie him. A bottom puts his feet in the loops at either end and then passes the middle of the strap behind his neck. It helps him keep his feet pulled back and his cunt exposed, ready for fucking. It looked particularly useful because you could use it to keep a guy's legs out of your way while you fucked him. As the clerk explained to us, they'd be kept out of the way even if your bitch's hands were tied up or otherwise occupied. I made Jo get on the floor and try it out then and there. He looked surprisingly hot in that fuck-me position even with his clothes on, especially with the collar and wrist bands. I made him put his hands behind his neck and linked the wrist cuffs together, and my bound bitch was hot as fuck with his hands behind his head, a collar on his neck, and his legs pulled back by the fetters, ready to be mounted. I saw a guy rubbing his bulge as he looked down and asked him if he wanted to try out the position.
"What, here in the store? Right now? Fuck yeah!" So he got down and pretended to fuck Jo right there in the store. It was amazingly hot even though they both had all their clothes on and no flesh was exposed. But the grinding together of their bodies as he pushed his crotch into my bitch's jean-clad ass, while his legs were held up out of the way... wow. After a couple of minutes, Jo was red with embarrassment but moaning like the bitch he was.
I finally pulled the guy off him by the back of his muscle-shirt. He looked dazed and then a little resentful, but he got up without actually saying anything. I rubbed his very prominent bulge-hard as a rock from the simulated fucking. "If you want the real thing, come to Steamworks later. We'll be there after dinner."
"Fuck yeah, man, I'll be there. I want that bitch's ass for real!" Several of the guys standing around laughed at that, but I was willing to bet they'd find their way to Steamworks later as well. Nothing like your own personal, live porn show to get the juices flowing!
I told Jo to get up, and we paid for all the stuff I'd bought him. He wore the collar and the cuffs (now separated from each other, so they just looked like wristbands) out of the store, a leather leash attached to the collar hanging down his chest, the loop end of the leash dangling below his balls. Fucking hot! I made him wear the fetters as a sort of sash tied around his waist. Since this was Boystown, after all, we didn't get as many looks as you might think, and we were in no danger of arrest, but you could sure tell the tourists from the locals. The tourists were the ones whose heads swiveled around as we walked to dinner. One guy's head was turned so far around, he nearly walked into a lampost while staring at us. His boyfriend popped him one on the side of the head for that.
While we were waiting to cross a street, a teenager all dressed up in goth attire (I didn't know people still wore that shit) came up to us and asked me, "Can I touch him?" just as though Jo were my pet dog. Which, I suppose he was in a way. Gothboy didn't even look at Jo at all while talking to me. I said sure, and the boy grabbed the leash and tugged on it, then ran his hand all over Jo's chest, then his ass, and ending up by rubbing the bulge in the front of his jeans. As the light changed, the boy took Jo's leash and yanked on it like you would tug a dog's leash to get him started following you. The boy just started walking with us, talking to me, asking me questions about where we'd gotten the gear, how long I'd had my bitch, was he well trained yet, and stuff like that. Jo walked along behind us at the end of the leash, looking around at the scenery as though there was nothing unusual about his being taken for a walk by a goth teenager.
Now, I'm not into goths, especially, and I'm not usually all that into kids, but this one was very mature for his years (or he was simply very young-looking and wasn't a kid at all-I find it hard to tell ages anyway and under all that make-up, I suppose he could have been anywhere from 17 to 25). When we got to Kit Kat, the place we were going to eat, I stopped and took Jo's leash.
"We're gonna eat here, dude."
"Oh." He paused about fifteen seconds, looking at me, briefly glancing at Jo, then turning his attention back on me. Fifteen seconds doesn't sound like a long time, but it was under these circumstances. "I don't suppose you'd let me have dinner with you and your bitch, would you?" he asked. "I mean, I'll pay for myself."
"Why would you want to have dinner with us?" I asked in amusement.
"Well, you're very interesting to talk to. Usually guys who have a bitch on a leash are all full of themselves and how macho they are, and the bitch on the leash is kinda faggy or all in leather. Compensating, I always figure. But you're very intelligent, funny, and most of all, even though you probably think I'm a freak, you're treating me like a normal person. Plus, even in Boystown, it's not everyday you see a guy leading another guy around on a leash. I bet there's a cool backstory here."
"What about you, though? Don't you have a party to go to, dressed like that? Or do you just get all made up and costumed and walk around Boystown every Friday night like that, hoping to get picked up?"
"That was a cheap shot," he said matter-of-factly. "Yeah, I have a party to go to, but frankly you guys look a whole lot more interesting than yet-another-goth-party."
I laughed. "Thanks, I think. But I'm not gonna buy you drinks or score you drugs, dude, so you'll have to be sober while you're with us. That might put a damper on things."
"Dude, I don't need drugs to have a good time. Well," he amended, "not if I'm with interesting people, anyway. I'm not trying to sponge off you, I just think you're interesting."
"OK, gothboy, let's eat. Oh, and what's your name? I don't suppose you want me calling you `gothboy' all night."
He grinned, which looked a little startling with his dark lips in that palely made-up face. "Oh, I dunno. I kinda like `Gothboy.' You can just call me that. Can I have his leash back?"
I just looked at him, shook my head, and gave him back Jo's leash. We went in the restaurant, a forty-something guy in a beard accompanied by a teenaged goth all in black, with a shirt that was solid only down to his nipples and open mesh underneath, holding on to a leash attached to a chain collar on a wholesome, blonde, all-American looking twenty-one-year-old. We must have made quite a sight.