It's 9 pm. So far, so good. Things have gotten off to a slow start. In fact, no one was seated at the tables until almost 8:30. I feel a little weird. Before Danny finished filling me in—and it's very easy—he put some baby powder in his hands and rubbed it all over my chest and back. "Make you look baby smooth and smell nice too. The younger you seem, the more they'll like you. They know damn well that we would never have any under-aged guy working here, but they can easily dismiss that in their fantasies. After all, sweet boy, you look like you're only half way through high school."
"Gross. I don't really want them wanting me."
"You won't mind when the tips start coming, believe me. Besides, they know damn well they can't have you. Just let them play a little, boy. Be the sweet boy who brings them their drinks and calls them "Sir." They'll fantasize about adopting you."
"Sure . . then chaining me up in their basements on a dirty mattress to be used by all their friends."
"You're one sick puppy, Greg. You sound like you'd really like that?"
"Well not exactly THAT. After all, the mattress has to be clean." Danny swats my backside and I almost thank him for it, but I know that's not his thing. Three men come in and seat themselves. I go give them an innocent smile and welcome them.
"Where's Allie?" one of them asks.
"Not feeling so well, I was told, Sir," I answer him. "Danny asked me to fill in at the last minute. I hope you'll be pleased with my service, Sirs." I address the whole table. One of them is sulking because Allie isn't here. Must have a special interest in him.
"And what's your name, young fellow?" asks another man who looks like he could be my grandfather. "Greg, Sir."
"Just call him `boy,' Connie," pops in another. They start teasing one another and I stand by respectfully, trying not to laugh at some of the things they're saying to each other. They're having a real good time. They're probably life-long friends.
I bring their orders to the bar."Ah, Connie's crowd," says Danny. "Nice guys. Big tippers too. Allie says one of them gave him a fifty one night." I know who that is. "Probably the guy who's really disappointed that Allie's not here tonight," I tell Danny. "That's the first thing he said to me: "Where's Alfie?"
"It's good for you to realize prefers another boy to you, isn't it? Keeps you humble, maybe?"
Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 52: A sub is most comfortable when not the most popular or well-liked.
There's another Rule on that page that I can't believe is true:
###Number 54: A good thrashing is the best way to help a sub get a handle on its jealousy. ###
I just hope I never have to get to find out. I just can't imagine how a Dom could spank bad feelings away. But like I said, it's never happened to me. Not yet. But it seems to me that if I'm really angry about something, spanking me is only gonna make me even more pissed off. But I guess I just have a lot to learn. I wish I could ask Duke or Jack about this.
9:25 Things are definitely picking up. I'm having trouble keeping things separated in my mind. Danny's a great help. I'm trying to take the tables in order, but when I go to the next table that sat down, one of the men points to a table where one of the guys is angrily looking around. "Go get their orders first before that clown over there has a temper tantrum. We can wait a bit longer."
"Thank you, Sir," I say, then head over to the table with the angry guy on it. "It's about time, kid. Someone should take you over their knee to get you moving faster." Goddamn there are so many quick replies I have to stifle. "Don't forget, you have a man's cum in your belly," I tell myself. I turn to the man and bow my head. "I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, Sir. I'll get your order in right away." And I slink away, not waiting for an answer.
Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 97: When in doubt, the sub is always to blame or in the wrong.
When I get the order to the bar I tell Danny the guy there is angry for having to wait. "It's always something with him, Greg, don't worry. But what did you say to him? After you walked away he was sitting there in shock with his mouth open."
"I took the blame and apologized like a good sub." Danny leans over the bar and kisses me on the cheek. "What a smart kid you are!"
It keeps getting busier. I didn't notice at first, but there's a porno playing on a screen and it looks like Dom/sub stuff. A boy sucking dick and getting his face slapped while he's doing it. How common! Been there, done that! Hahaha.
One of the men, silver hair and broad-shouldered calls me over. "You ever get slapped by a dude you're blowing?" he asks me. Now I'm not sure what the policy is about answering personal questions. Danny didn't say anything at all about that. So I just punt. "Yes, Sir. A few times."
"You get off on it?" he asks. "Sir, I get off on the Dom's pleasure. If it gives him pleasure to slap me around, then that's what will happen."
"Of course, you'd always have safe words, so at least he knows he isn't crossing any line."
"Yes, Sir. There's always that."
"You ever had to safe-word a guy?" he keeps pressing.
"No, Sir, I haven't. Not yet."
"Are you the kind of slut who can take anything, put up with anything?"
"Not really sure, Sir, to be honest. I'm pretty new at this."
"So if I stood up here and slapped the daylights out of your face, you'd take as much as I wanted to give you?"
"Can't answer that, Sir, because if you tried to do that I think you'd be escorted out of here." The other guys at his table crack up. One of them hands me a five-dollar bill. "Good thinking, kid," he says. I bow my head and thank him.
"I'd like to find out how much you could take, boy," the guy I now call "slap-happy" in my mind.
"thank you, Sir, but please excuse me. Someone at another table is looking for me."
I realize that's a good way to escape something uncomfortable—pretend someone else is summoning me. I discover I'm pretty good at handling awkward questions or remarks. Until a fat guy with a leather jacket on grabs hold of a nipple and starts pulling on it. "Who trained those nipples to stand up the way they do, boy?"
I cry out and quickly pull it from his fingers. "It's just natural, Sir. Sorry to evade you but I'm not sure I'm allowed to use safe words while at work." Then one of his companions puts his hand on my arm. "Have no fear, son. That guy needs a special safe word all his own. Something like GETTHEFUCKOFFME!" The others at the table crack up and pat their wise-ass buddy on the back. I manage to escape.
Evading and escaping. That's what this is all about. Don't think I'd dare try it with a real Dom, though. I read the Rules. I know better.
Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 44: Evasive behavior must be beaten out of a sub.
But here, things are different. Right now I'm just a waiter, not some guy's whipping boy or slave. Okay, I'm also a sub, but that's besides the point.
I'm aware that there's a man here whose eyes seem to follow me around the room. He's a bit younger than the others; in fact, he could well be hanging out and cruising in the main part of the bar. Eventually, when most of my customers have left (and the tips were amazing!), he is still there with two companions.
Finally I can't resist his gaze and go over to the table to see if they would like anything else "for the road." He pulls out a chair. "I'd like you to sit for a bit if that's allowed. I can see there are only two other tables of men here and they've all been served recently."
I pretend to hesitate although for some reasons my inner submissive is urging me to do anything he asks, no matter what. "Come on, boy. Don't be shy. I'd like to speak to you for a bit."
And so, I sit. Damn, he's attractive. I'm surprised because I don't usually go for men much older than me. I know I'm going to have to stop being so picky. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I have to stop rating Superiors according to whether or not I find them attractive. But this guy? He's off the charts hot to me and I'm not sure why.
"I've been admiring the collar around your neck. One of my best friends just purchased a similar collar for his, um . . "
". . boy?" I volunteer.
"Yes, boy. thank you for being so forward. My friend bought one made of gunmetal,."
"Oh wow. That must have cost a fortune. I know mine was far more expensive than I could afford."
"Did you know there's only one place to buy them?"
Uh-oh. That settles everything, doesn't it?
"Yes, Sir. I was there yesterday with the man who bought me the boots I have on."
"Who got you them? Why aren't you with him now?"
The man who got my boots—and this collar---is named Jack. I don't belong to him but he looks out for me at times. He brought me to Evanston's this afternoon because I needed to wear boots here tonight.
"How did it feel, walking around that large emporium stark naked?"
"I handled it fine. The worst part of it was that Jack made me strip in his car and walk through the parking lot already naked. We got a lot of looks and comments from people. Nothing I'm not getting used to."
"So let me get this straight. This Jack fellow got you your boots and collar. Who caged you?"
I'm a little surprised. "how did you know. . . . "
"I've read the Handbook, boy. Never ask a question without permission. But to answer your unasked question, I could tell by the way you've been walking around here, the way you move, looking like there's something between your legs that you've never had to deal with before."
"sorry, Sir, for not asking permission. And yes, you're right about me trying to get used to being caged."
"who caged you and when?"
"Jack, this afternoon along with everything else, Sir."
"So this has been quite a day for you, hasn't it, boy?"
"yes, Sir. Momentous."
"What is your official status concerning Jack? Is that exclusive or are you just a slut."
I wince at the word. "Um . . . a few men are taking an interest in my,,, um,, , education, Sir, but I'm basically free unless one of them summons me for something."
"And have you been claimed this evening, boy?"
"No, Sir." I'm really tired, but shit, I'd love to find out how this guy would handle me. Right now I'm not sore anywhere, so he's basically got a clean slate to work with. Oh, the guys at one of the tables are leaving. I excuse myself and go to say goodnight and to thank them for their generosity.
I clear their table, bringing their used glasses to the bar for Danny,. "Hey, Greg, you don't have to do any more cleaning up. We have someone who comes in to take care of that after we close. thank you so much for your help tonight. You did a fine job. A couple of our regulars wanted to know if you were going to be part of the staff from now on."
"Interesting, Danny. Okay if I go sit with that man who's been chatting me up?"
"Ron? Certainly. He's good people. Used to be a tough Dom but his sub passed away a few years ago and as far as I know, he hasn't been interested in anyone since then. It's nice to see him take an interest in you, Greg. I'm sure he could do you a lot of good." I salute him and go back to sit with Ron.
"I wanted to tell you that I admired the way you handled yourself tonight, especially with the more aggressive and let's say `difficult' characters. You've got a good knack for doing that. Unfortunately it might cause you to pick up some bad habits. If you acted with your Dom the way you acted here tonight, you'd be in for a good sound thrashing."
"Yes, Sir, I understand. They've been talking to me about being punished so I can learn how to behave, so nothing you're saying to me surprises me."
"Ah, the number 8 Rules."
"You know them, Sir?"
"Know them? I wrote many of them. Especially the later ones about a sub's proper attitude.
Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 8d: A sub always deserves to be punished. This is hard for may to accept but time will show just how true this is.
"Yes, Sir. I'm glad that Rule noted how a sub finds it hard to accept that it always deserves to be punished,. Especially after I worked so hard tonight and everyone's pretty much happy with me."
"Oh my dear faggot: I'm not implying that you did anything tonight to deserve punishment. That Rule refers to your general condition as a faggot sub. And since you're just taking it when I call you a faggot tells me that you know what you are."
"I'm learning, Sir, bit by bit. There's so much that's too complex at times."
"So you find yourself struggling from time to time, just like you're struggling to accept the Rule I just called your attention to."
"yes, Sir, it is a constant struggle. But the Doms are patient with me."
"and how often do you let them know how much you appreciate their patience?"
Shit! He has me there. I've hardly ever said anything like that. "I must confess, Sir, that I haven't done much to express my gratitude."
"You should know that I also wrote the Rule about showing gratitude for being punished. Review the appropriate Rule. I have it here with me, all the Number 8 items." He shows me the page. My blood starts racing. Something is telling me that this night is going to get a lot more intense very soon.
Sub Protocols: Rules for bois. Number 8c: The slave must be told how it will show its gratitude after punishment. This should become a regular habit after punishment is completed."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you for showing it to me. To be honest, I've not given that much thought."
"But you do now, boy. You most certainly do. Here: Let me spell out the situation. It's clear to me that you deserve to be punished because you haven't been expressing gratitude to your Superiors. You're coming home with me now so I can punish you. After I decide you're been punished enough, you'll fall to the floor and lick my feet until I tell you to stop. Do you understand, boy? All of this?"
My resistance is setting in but I'm determined not to let it ruin this opportunity for me.
"Yes, Sir. I understand. All of it. Please, Sir, please punish me as you see fit. I promise to show you my gratitude the way you say you want me to."
"Then it's all settled. Follow me in your car. Plan to spend the night. Tonight you'll be punished then I'll put you to bed. I'll make better use of you in the morning because I can see how exhausted you are right now. Nonetheless, I'm sure the thrashing I intend to give you will help you sleep once I'm done with you."
With that, he gets up from the table. I didn't notice that his friends had already left. We were the last two people in the room.
It doesn't take long to get to his house, a large two-story building set back off the main road running through town. I get out of my car and follow him into the house. Immediately he takes me downstairs to a well-equipped dungeon. Before I even have a chance to look around he gives the order: "I want to see you naked, faggot."
That's all until next time.
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I also wrote two stories with another name. One is "Q sub" and the other "Adoring Devin."