Please note this is a fictional story -- so the characters may not play safe. Whenever sex is involved, use protection!!! And when you play rough, always use a safe word to stop the action if either side cannot take it. Any comments to sublawyer1965@yahoo.com
I got up Friday morning, and on an impulse, I called work and told them I was not going to be in that day, that I had some personal issues that had come up I needed to take care of right away. Anything major, they could email me and I would work on it, or call my cell and I would answer their questions, but they needed to handle anything other then the absolute emergency items. Luckily, I knew the staff was capable of all but a few decisions (I learned a long time ago, either hire the best or hire no one -- otherwise you will be paying people to let you do everything yourself).
I went to the grocery store, and picked up everything I needed for a steak dinner -- I was not sure if he would want dinner, but I wanted to be prepared. Under my clothes, it felt so strange to be smooth -- I noticed the feel of the shirt as it rubbed across my pecs, and of course anytime I adjusted myself I noticed the absence of any hair around my dick and balls.
When I got home, I spent the day cleaning up the whole house. I was not a slob, and the cleaning service had sent Cassie over the day before, but I needed to keep myself busy. I wanted to clean the playroom -- but he had taken the key, and though I had a spare, I knew he did not want me to go back in there without him. I did turn the air on, to vent out the stale air I knew would be in there, with his dried piss smelling up the room. By the time he got here, it should be all but gone.
After I set the steaks to marinade, I spent the day reading some of my old journals, looking back on who I had tried to be, and noticing all along signs that I was not happy with being the Man. I was shocked how long I had been struggling with this, or rather, how open I had been with admitting my conflict. I had simply been oblivious to my own needs, while making sure I took care of those of the boys I brought home.
Around 6 PM, I went to the gym to get in a workout. I put in a solid two hours, making sure to work every muscle, to pump them up. I had gone in wearing tee shirt and work out pants, so I would not have to change in front of anyone -- to keep them from seeing my smooth-as-little-boy skin. If anyone who really knew me, they might have noticed the smooth forearms, but no one commented or even seemed to see.
I got home about 8:20, and rushed up to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I shaved my face, and then did a quick check to make sure there were no stray hairs anywhere below my chin. I dried my hair, but stopped before I put any gel or such in it -- something told me he would want it natural. I of course stayed naked.
At 8:50, I went back down to the kitchen, and made a quick drink -- I needed a bracing dose of rum to calm my nerves. As I was drinking it, I heard the engine of my Jeep coming up the driveway. I put the glass in the dishwasher as I heard the garage door lifting up, and then with a deep breath, I got down on my knees beside the door to the garage, and waited. I was on pins and needles as I heard movement outside -- from the heavy steps, I knew he was wearing his newly claimed boots. As I listened to him get closer, my heart rate increased -- all I wanted was to see him NOW!!!
And that was when the door opened, answering my desire. He was smiling down at me, in a dark red dress shirt, sleeves rolled up and tails untucked. His jeans were tight, though the shirt hug low enough to just give hints of the bulge lying underneath the,. My old boots finished off his outfit -- and all I could think was, except being naked, he could not have looked better. But it was of course the grin that melted me -- the same cocky and sexy smile that had almost stunned me to silence back in the bar (lord, had it really been a week since I met him?).
He squatted down beside me, and ruffled my hair. "Hello boy, how are you? Enjoy your week?" He stood up as he spoke and walked to the counter, looking at the rum bottle. He reached up to grab a glass from the cabinet as he listened to me.
"Yessir, I did, which surprised me. But I am glad to finally see you, to talk to you. I have so much I need to understand, about me, about you, about all of this."
He drank down a shot, and set the glass down. "Good boy -- we will get to all that. But for now, go get my stuff from the Jeep and take it up to the bedroom. I will be in the library when you get done... and I expect you to look over the Jeep to satisfy yourself I did not do anything to it." When I started to protest I was not worried about it, he held up his hand and said, "I want you to know I am keep my word, boy -- because that is something you, as the boy, need to trust without question, and the only way that will happen is for you to see what I tell you is true. Now, go!"
He barked the last at me, and I jumped at the unexpected order, but I obeyed -- I got to my feet and went to the garage. My jeep was there, and I hate to say it, but I really DID want to see what had happened to my baby. Looking at it, I saw he had gotten it cleaned and waxed, and it was in perfect condition. The gas gauge showed a full tank, where it had been only about ¼ when we had gotten back from the bar the last weekend.
In the back were two large bags. I picked them up, and was shocked at the weight of one of them -- it clinked a lot, and I knew it was his play bag. The other was obviously clothes for the weekend. I quickly went back inside, and took them upstairs. As I passed the library I saw Scott was on the computer, typing away. I looked at him, and from the profile, I had to admit he was one of the best looking men I had ever seen, even if this man was half my age. I took the bags up to the bedroom and put them on the chest at the foot of the bed. I almost peeked in the play bag but I knew I would get in trouble if I got caught, and as he had pointed out, I was not good at lying to him.
I went back down to stand by him, looking at what he was doing. He was answering some emails to his professors and friends, telling them he had a project that would keep him busy this weekend but he would be back later. He sent his roommate a message telling him to call my house if he needed anything and could not get his cellphone -- then looked at me and said "Number?" As I told him he typed it in and sent it off. Then he turned to look at me.
At first I stood normally, but then I thought about it, and I moved to stand with my hands glasped behind my back, my legs slightly spread, my head looking down -- the pose I had always liked boys to use with me. Scott chuckled, but said nothing. He ran his hand over my smooth chest, lightly tweaking my tits as he went near them, then down to my crotch. He rubbed all over there, and grasped my smooth ball sac in his hand. As he played with my nuts, he looked up to my face. "I think we need to have a talk, boy, to understand the rules for the weekend, and to get some of those questions out of the way. I have not eaten, so why don't we order pizza and talk."
"Sir, I have not eaten either, and pizza is fine -- but I did take the chance and bought some steaks, potatoes, salad... easy to fix but still a good meal, sir. Would you like me to cook for us... you?"
He let go of my balls, and leaned back in his chair, thoughtful look on his face. "What made you think to get food, boy?" His voice was not angry -- indeed, I would say it was pleased, but there was something he wanted, and it was not obvious from the question.
When I started to answer, I stopped almost instantly, and cocked my head -- why had I bought food? Why had I thought this was going to be more then a hookup? I mean, I know he had said he was going to claim me as his bitch, but that was sexual -- why had I thought beyond that?
I cleared my throat, and tried to answer him. "Sir, I knew...or, rather I hoped, this was going to be a time to speak, if not as equals, still not as master and slave -- that this would be a time to explain to each other what we felt, needed, wanted. And, forgive me if this presumes too much, but I somehow knew YOU would want it this way, sir. Your note let me know you have things to tell me, beyond sex."
His smile told me I had either hit the nail right on the head or I had gotten pretty close. He nodded, and waved me to the kitchen. He followed, me blazing the trail like an eager puppy (funny how I was constantly thinking of myself as the pup around him -- I somehow saw him as the more experienced man). As he watched, I got out the steaks, and wrapped the potatoes in saran to nuke them -- I told him I would rather have baked them but that would take too long for tonight. He smiled and nodded, just watching me, his naked boy fixing his dinner while he made himself a drink (I noted that he liked rum and coke as well). Every now and then, when I would walk near him, he would caress my ass, or lightly slap it -- enough to make the point that he was in charge, but not to hurt.
Once I had everything ready to go, I turned to him. "Sir, the grill is out on the deck, and while it is not super cold, it is a bit too much so for me to be naked -- may I please put on some clothes to work the grill?" I saw him think about it -- and then realized he was considering my punishment for my email infraction. But he smiled, and said "Yes boy, you may -- go get dressed for now."
I ran up the stairs, and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, a dress shirt, socks and boots (I had decided to mirror him, hoping I looked as good in this as he did). I started to tuck I nthe shirt, but then pulled it back out, again like him. I came back down, and stood in front of him. He laughed, and reached out to me, pulling me in and down to him, and kissed me deeply. For a few minutes I forgot dinner, as Scott spun me around, pressed me back into the cabinets and kissed me. It was both passionate and rough -- like good sex, it made you feel just enough pleasure AND pain. My cock throbbed by the time he pulled back from me, and his hand grabbed my balls. "Damn, I love a good kisser, boy -- too many your age think there is something too girly about kissing. Glad to see you have no hang-ups. Now, let's get started on my dinner." He walked to the living room, and out the door to the grill.
I carried out the steaks, to find the grill had already been started. He had obviously done so while I was getting dressed. He stood looking out across the lake, his drink in his hand. I set down the steaks, knowing the grill needed a little more time to fully heat up (too many people simply toss steaks on a grill the moment it starts -- I had learned to let the whole heat up, it always seemed to make a better steak -- though no one had ever been able to tell me why). I walked over to him, and decided to be a bit daring. I moved behind him and pulled him back into me. He stiffened at first, and I thought I had crossed a line, but then he relaxed, and leaned back into me. "I guess I am going to have to get used to you being taller then me, boy."
We stood there for a bit, not talking, before he broke the silence.
"All week I have been trying to figure out how the hell you got to me, boy. I have played with dozens of guys over the last 4 years, and I have never felt a connection like with you. Of course, I have never seen anything about them, not the real people they were, like I have with you. And I did some checking on you, over this week, also -- and I found out you serve on the board of a local abused children's shelter, you volunteer at an AIDS charity three times a year, and you make time each summer to help Habitat for Humanity. You are not just a player, and I was not sure what to do with you."
I was quiet as he spoke, not sure what to say -- I had always kept my charity work quiet, not because I thought anyone would care, but because I wanted it to be true, not something I do for show. I also was not sure where he was going with this -- I know he had said he was confused by some of this also, but I could not tell if he had resolved it or if this was his way of telling me he had more to think about.
He took a long swallow of his drink, emptying it. "Okay, no more liquor, boy -- got any beer?" I nodded and said they were in the fridge. He told me to start the teaks while he got two for us, and told me he wanted his medium rare. He pushed off from me, and walked inside. I put the steaks on the grill, as well as some vegetables on the upper level, to slowly roast them while the steaks cooked. I focused on my task, and it took me a bit to realize Scott had not come back. Confused I closed the lid down, to let things cook, and went inside. I found him staring at the beer in his hand, not moving. I walked to him, took it out of his hand, and pulled him back with me to the deck. I moved him to a chair, and knelt down beside him, looking up in his eyes.
He smiled at me, and ruffled my hair. "Jake, this is weird, but I think I have feelings for you. Not just sexual -- lord knows I have those, and I am going to show you later what they are -- but the stuff in my head, emotions. Not saying I do not want to have you at my feet or that I do not want to use you like a bitch sometimes. But I also want to guide you, to share stuff with you, to watch movies... hell, you get my point. Now, sit there and stay calm, not saying I am in love with you -- not the stupid kid you probably think I am."
I could not stop myself -- I rose from my haunches, and kissed him. He was a little surprised, but he kissed me back. When I pulled away, I grinned at him, as I moved to check on the steaks. "Scott, sir, I am not saying I love you either, but I know... I mean, all week, I kept thinking about you -- not just your cock and how I wanted you to use me, but also how I felt right with you. Fuck, I am not sure I am willing to be a boy for anyone, not long term, but for you, for now, I want to see what this is. We do need to talk about some limits, some guidelines for how I will serve you, but if we establish those, then I want to have some fun with this."
I was pulling the steaks off the grill, setting them on the tray with the already cooked veggies, my back to him. So I had no idea what was coming -- all I heard was a whistling and then I felt the belt smack my ass. I almost dropped the food, but luckily all that happened was the tray dropped to the side bar on the grill. I yelped, and tried to turn to him.
"Boy, do not look at me! Move to the railing and bend over it. NOW!!!" I was so scared of that belt, I moved without a word, looking out at the lake. I heard the whistling again and then the belt landed across my ass, hard. He used it total of ten times, which had me sobbing, begging to know what I had done wrong -- he did not hold back when he whipped!!
He did not speak until he was done, then he went to the grill, picked up the tray and carried it inside. As he went in, he looked back at me, on my knees, whimpering. "Get naked, dog, and then get inside."
I stripped, then crawled in the open door. I stayed on all fours, as I saw him putting the food on two plates. He said nothing, just turned and walked into the dining room, carrying both plates. He came back in the room, and picked up the beers, then looked at me. "Crawl into the dining room, to your chair, when you reach it you can stand up and sit in it." With that he walked ahead of me.
As I came thru the door, I saw him sitting at the head of the table, sipping his beer. The chair nearest the kitchen door was pulled out, so I crawled to it, then stood and sat down, still naked. My ass was sore -- the welts form the previous weekend had just healed, and now I was smarting again. I did not touch my food or utensils, looking at Scott for direction. He did not speak, just waved at me to eat, and began to dig into his own food.
I ate but I was confused -- what had happened? We were getting along well, I had showed him respect, I had not challenged him in anyway. It had seemed like a very real, sensitive moment where we connected. I did not really taste anything, just swallowing mechanically.
Scott sat his knife and fork down, and looked at me. "Okay, I needed some time to let you settle down to really hear me, boy, so you understand why you just got whipped. Don't EVER tell me there will be limits or there will be guidelines on how you will be used or you will behave. YOU are not the man, here -- you are the boy, you are the bitch, and you do as you are told, period. Fuck up, and next time it will be twenty swipes, bare assed. Do we understand each other, boy?"
I looked at him, again amazed at how forceful this 18 year old kid could be -- right now he seemed as mature as I ever was, and in the process had turned me into a sniffling boy at his feet!! "Yessir, I am sorry sir... I never meant disrespect, I was just..."
"Shut it, boy!!! Before you earn those twenty lashes. Disrespect can be unintentional, but it still needs to be punished, boy. Just like the email from Monday -- don't think I have forgotten that." He went back to eating his food, and slowly began to ask me about my day. He let go of the incident, assuming (as well he should) I would not repeat the infraction and learn my lesson. By starting a conversation, he made dinner slow down, and we ended up talking about small stuff until around midnight. Then he stood up and told me to clean up the kitchen, while he went to get changed. He would meet me in the den, on the couch.
I went to the kitchen, already relegated to the role of servant. But if it was so bad, why did my cock throb so much? It had not gotten soft, even during the whipping. But I did not let my thoughts slow down my actions -- I did all the cleanup, put the dishes in the machine, and set it to wash then walked into the den.
Scott was lying there, in just a pair of boxers, remote in hand. He was stretched out on the couch, his hard body on display. Somehow I knew he had planned this, showing off for me. His muscles were tight, he had obviously worked out before coming over, and a light smell of sweat wafted thru the room. The dark blue shorts served to show off his tan well, though he did not strike me as the tanning bed kind. He was smooth chested, though naturally so, unlike me. About the only visible hair on him was under his arms and a light covering his shins, and even that was light, accenting the muscles rather then covering them up. His arm was up, hand under his head, resting on a pillow. He did not look at me, simply scanning the channels.
Not knowing what to do, I moved to him, and knelt down beside the couch, so he could still see the TV but where I was within easy reach for him. After a minute, he settled on a comedy, and for a while we watched it, no words, just laughter. Midway through it, he reached out, and stroked my chest, lightly teasing my tits, not enough to be sexual, just showing me he was noticing me. When it was over, he sat up, and spread his legs, pulling me back to him. His right leg went over my shoulder, the left on my side. His hand was in my hair, playing with it, as the next show came on, and we watched that, still in silence, but somehow it felt right. Every now and then his left foot would move, and he would press on my cock, checking to see if I was still hard (which of course I was!!). He would chuckle lightly and go back to the show.
Once this show ended, he turned off the TV, and pushed me away while pulling me up to the couch with him. "Okay, pup, time we talked a bit. I know you have concerns, and I want to hear them. You just have to understand I might not think they are important, and I might not address them the way you want me to do so. You know the price for arguing, so it is up to you to decide if you want to accept what I say or not." As he said this, I felt his hand move to the back of the couch, and I saw lying up there his belt. I swallowed, and merely nodded.
He lay back down, and pulled me down with him, so my head ended up lying on his chest. It is odd to be the taller man lying with a shorter man on bottom like this -- I stretched out between his legs partly, knowing with any other man of his size I would be the one doing the holding, doing the commanding. Instead, I liked how this felt -- liked knowing this smaller guy was the one who would call the shots, and all I had to do was accept it.
"So talk... tell me what is on your mind, boy."
I moved so I could sort of see his face, while still laying on him, and licked my lips. "Sir, my biggest issue is I am not out at work. The other partners would go a little ... hell, a LOT crazy if they found out. Especially if the guy I was seeing were half my age. We handle a lot of sensitive clients, who are not very enlightened. So I need... "I swallowed as I felt his hand tense up a bit, so I quickly rephrased -- "I would LIKE to know how sir feels about keeping this away from my office?"
Scott relaxed as I corrected myself, and went back to stroking my hair. "Well, I am not going to say I will never do anything to you at work -- but I will not endanger your job. There will be subtle reminders of your place, like wearing a cock cage to work, or having to take a bottle of my piss to work to drink at lunch. But nothing that would get you directly embarrassed or found out. You can play the man at the office, boy, as long as you do not forget what you are away from there."
I smiled, and kissed his chest, he knew my situation and would work with me on it. Then I looked back up at him, and had a serious look on my face. "The other thing that scares me sir... not sure how to talk about it without making you mad?" Looking up at him I tried to show him I did not want to piss him off, that I wanted him happy.
He frowned a bit but then nodded his head. "Boy, I am not promising I will not get mad, but you need to trust that if I get pissed off, it is because you went too far, not just because you asked something sensitive. Deal?" He ruffled my hair and smiled, to which I had to smile back.
"Sir, you are in school, so I know you do not have a lot of money. I do not mind helping out but I do not ... I mean..." I swallowed, nervous at the next thought, but knowing I had to ask. "Is this just you wanting money, sir?"
He tensed up a bit, and I thought he was going to throw me off him. But then he just pulled me to face him. His face was tight, but not angry -- more like disappointed.
"I know you are pretty well off, Jake, and I guess I can see where you might think the college kid might be using you for some cash. But I promise you -- my interest is in you, for the boy you are gonna be, not for the wallet." He pushed me to sitting up position and looked me in the eye.
"And to prove it, gonna tell you a bit about me..."
Not too much `fun' in this one, but there were so many requests for Scott's story, I had to work it in somehow. The next will have more, I promise, telling Scott's story.
As before, any comments, let me know -- positive or negative (though not nasty) feedback is much appreciated. And if there are any Scott's reading this drop me a line GRIN
Jake -- sublawyer1965@yahoo.com