Step by Step

Step by Step The adventures of Olivier and Carl-Eric Part 5 by Chaim groeiutrecht@gmail.com

Well there's a bridge and there's a river that I still must cross As I'm going on my journey Oh, I might be lost

The following story contains description of sexual contact between men. This is a partly true story. Feedback is appreciated.

Lyrics: Step by Step (Whitney Houston) Words and music by Annie Lennox.

Thanks for all your positive reactions in en English and Dutch!

Then Olivier heard Carl-Eric call his name, just the one word, "Olivier!" but the voice, firm and commanding, made it an order.

The boy moved, each step bringing him closer to a change in his life from which there would be no turning back. That change had started the moment he laid eyes on the handsome blond Viking. There was no reason for him to turn back. There was nothing for him to turn back to.

Olivier's bare feet reached the door. He saw a faint light under the door to his bedroom he shared now with Olaf. A shadow moved and then was still.

His Master awaited him!

He crossed the little hall and laid his hand on the door knob. His hand was sweating. The knob felt cold against his damp palm. He turned the knob slowly until it clicked. He pushed the door open and entered the room.

The light came from a candle on the of the chest of drawers. It was the only illumination in the room. Shadows moved again as the flame flickered in the draft of the door. Olivier's eyes burned. He blinked. He couldn't see clearly.

Where was Carl-Eric?

He blinked again.

On the other side of the room was a mighty Viking towered, a vision, a glimpse from his subconscious mind, a prophet come to wake him from dreams.

Last night Olivier had a dream. In his dream the Viking was finely muscled and had incredible definition. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his body. He was very masculine and very hard—all over. He sat on his bed and motioned him over. Olivier crawled on all fours across the room and began sucking his cock. He felt himself slip into a very submissive mindset. He wanted to

worship his Master and to give him pleasure. His cock throbbed in his mouth. Nothing had ever excited him the way Carl-Eric did.

He was a complete slave!

Olivier shivered. This was new, no, fuller, more complete vision of Carl-Eric.

This was no dream.

His Master stood still in the unnatural ghostly light, letting the naked boy fill his eyes.

The Viking's shaggy blond hair, his steely blue eyes, a touch threatening look. He wore a body harness. Black leather straps crossed his shoulders, fastened to a belt around his waist. At his pectorals the straps were joined by two silver rings, centered over his nipples. The straps were pulled tight. His pecs pushed at the restrains. His nipples stood up, centered in the silver rings.

Attached to the wide belt was a black jock pouch, soft, flexible leather. I bulged out from Carl-Eric's belly, molded to the organ it held. The strap of the pouch snaked between Car-Eric's legs, up the crack of his ass and fastened to the back of the belt. His hands hung loosely at his sides encased in gloves with silver studs around the cuffs. The thick solid leather boots came almost to his knees, a silver chain around the left one.

The outfit had been given to him in one of the cities he passed through. He never worn it before. Waiting for the right time. As the naked boy gazed at him. Carl-Eric saw in his dark young eyes this was it.

Their right time.

"Come here."

The boy crosses the room quickly, his bare feet paddling softly on the floor.

"Kneel."

The boy dropped to his knees. The floor was cold but he was unaware of it. The bulging leather jock pouch was at his eye level. The outline of the swollen cock jutting towards his face absorbed him.

Carl-Eric leaned to the side, reaching towards the chest of drawers. Suddenly Olivier realized there were other things on the chest. When he looked that way the candle flame was in his eyes so he couldn't see exactly what the objects were. More black leather, more straps, that's all he could make out.

The tall blond Viking boy picked up a single article from the top of the chest.

"Look up here."

He ordered. Olivier lilted his head back, starting up at Carl-Eric. Now he recognized what he held in his gloved hand.

The dog collar.

"You know what this is, asshole?"

Olivier nodded slowly. His head snapped back as Carl-Eric's right hand connected with the side of his face, not a hard blow but enough to make his cheek sting and his eyes water.

"Answer me when I address you, asshole."

"Yes. Sir. Master."

"That's better. What is it?"

"Sir, it's a dog collar. Sir."

"That's right, asshole, and now it's your collar."

He reached down , fitting the strap around the boy's neck.

"That's what you are, asshole."

He buckled it snug against the boy's throat.

"From now on, you are my little dog, my puppy. You do what I tell you. Tricks you never imagined before. Follow like a dog on a lash, whether you're wearing one or not."

He snapped the buckle closed and stood up.

The naked boy looked fantastic kneeling before him with the dog collar as his only clothing. He felt his big cock jump in his jock pouch. The boy was looking up at him with a worshipful gaze in his eyes. His boy cock was sticking up hard and straight. He was just as turned on as Carl-Eric was.

"That fucking dog collar is gonna be your boy uniform. Understand that?"

"Yes, Sir."

Olivier replied eagerly, cock bobbing at the thought.

Carl-Eric put his leather gloved hands on the boy's head, roughing up his hair, pulling him close in his bulging groin.

"We start with your mouth tonight, boy. Show you some of the things I want you to do for me with your mouth. A warm-up. I already know you got a great mouth, asshole. I want to make sure you realize it's mine. From now on. All mine."

"Yes, Master. Oh yeah Sir."

Even as he spoke Olivier eagerly snuffled in his crotch, licking at the hairy skin next to the leather pouch, lapping up the sweat.

"My leather needs polishing, asshole."

Olivier was so intent on working his mouth deeper between the blond's leather boy's funky thighs, he hardly heard the works spoken above him.

That was a mistake!

Suddenly those leather gloved hands hit him hard on top of his head, forcing him to the floor so quickly he thought he was going to crack his nose on the floor. The hands held him there, between the heavy leather boots. He couldn't look up.

"Better listen up, asshole. I don't like to say things twice. Use that pretty mouth of yours for some spit polishing on my leather. I want a real old-fashioned spit shine, you know what I mean. Start with my boots, asshole!"

Olivier allowed himself to be guided by the hands on the back of his head.

He had no choice.

The strong grip pressed his lips against the toe of the right boot. The leather felt cool and smooth against his hot skin. His pulse raced like a jack rabbit, thumping his ears.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue over the toe of the boot. He lapped at the leather, letting the spit drool out of his mouth as he worked over the surface. When the toe was wet and shining, he moved to the sides, giving them the same. Then Carl-Eric pushed him over the left boot. But he didn't rush him. Carl-Eric was in no hurry. They had all night.

When he was satisfied with the boots, Carl-Eric pulled the boy back up to his crotch, shoving his face against the leather jock pouch.

"I want to see all that leather shining."

He growled,

"Including the strap between my legs."

The boy's eyes had a glazed look in them.

Carl-Eric breathed huskily. The boy's slurping tongue felt so damn good through the soft leather. When the pouch was slick and shiny, he pushed the boy's head down between his thighs, guiding that great mouth over the bottom of the jock pouch where it sagged under the bulk of Carl-Eric's big nuts.

"All the way, asshole."

He grunted,

"Polish that strap all the way up my ass."

Carl-Eric spread his legs wider as the naked boy shuffled forward on his knees, thrusting his licking tongue further on the ass strap. As Carl-Eric looked down over his protruding leather jock, all he could see of the boy slave was his youthful muscular back tapered down those perfect twin globes od solid boy ass. His cock throbbed against the soft leather as he imagined it between those cheeks.

As for Olivier, he was lost in another world, buried in Carl-Eric's solid, funky smelling ass. He licked and licked at the leather strap, marveling at the warmth of the ass cheeks pressed on either side of his face. Close up like this, he could see the fine blond hair that covered the pale skin. So beautiful. Unthinking, he moved beyond the strap, licking the wonderful ass flesh, delighting in the slightly bitter sweet taste of the skin. The blond's hot sphincter inundated his senses. He took several more swipes of his delicious pucker. If he could he would stay there forever.

Carl-Eric swiftly reached behind him and grabbed a handful of the boy's short hair. Yanking at the fine dark strands, he pushed the boy's mouth back on the leather strap.

"When I want you to kiss my ass, boy. I will tell you to."

Olivier didn't wander off anymore. His wet mouth stayed exactly where Carl-Eric wanted, polishing and shining all the leather on the blond's magnificent body. The leather boy squatted in front of the slave boy, turning his muscled torso to give the kneeling boy access to every inch of the black leather.

At last, Carl-Eric was satisfied. Still squatting, he ran his leather gloved hands over the boy's sweaty face, petting and caressing him like a puppy dog.

"Good puppy boy."

He murmured,

"That's the way to do it. Good fucking mouth."

He ran his right hand over the boy's jaw. Olivier's full soft lips were flushed and shiny in the golden candlelight. Olaf pulled the mouth open, inserting his right forefinger.

"Suck!"

The boy nursed at the tip of the leather covered digit like a calf on a tit. Carl-Eric smiled in approval.

"This is just the beginning. You don't know shit yet about how to use that pretty little mouth."

He pushed deeper. Olivier's lips spread over more and more of the finger but he jerked back as the tip touched the back of his throat, gagged him.

"You can take it."

Olivier's body bucked. His stomach knotted. His throat burned with bile. He was going to throw up. Spit sprayed around the finger.

"Easy, easy. You can do it. Breathe through your nose. Just relax. Let go of your throat muscles. Let it slide in. Do it for your Master. Do it for me."

He pushed a little deeper.

The boy took it for a few seconds. Then Carl-Eric felt the throat muscles knot around his fingers again. The boy was still too tense. He pulled his hand out, wiping the wet finger across the boy's flushed cheek. The boy's eyes glistened bright with half-formed tears.

"Take it easy, boy."

Carl-Eric said quietly.

"You're doing great. Real great. We gonna rest for a second. Take a little brake and relax. I just got the ticket."

He said, reaching over to the top drawer of the chest.

Olivier's breathing was a little shaky now. His chest rose and fell in a jerky irregular rhythm. Carl-Eric wasn't worried, though. The boy's cock was still hard. He was still digging it. He could practically feel the boy's hot gaze on him as he opened the drawer and pulled out a bottle of homemade Vodka. He twisted the cap in his gloved hands, opening the bottle.

"We will just have a little of this, boy, and we will be ready to go again."

He said, tossing down a swig.

He held the bottle out to the boy. Olivier had never had hard liquor before. The alcohol smelled strong.

"Open up, asshole. This will loosen you up good."

Olivier opened his mouth obediently. The rim of the bottle clicked his teeth as the liquid poured into him, a whole big mouthful. It burned, his first instinct was to spit it out. Carl-Eric foresaw that and immediately clamped one strong hand over the boy's mouth as he set the bottle down on the floor.

"Easy, boy."

He murmured,

"Just swallow a little at a time. It will go down easy. Make you feel nice and warm."

As he spoke he stroked the boy's tense throat with is free hand, massaging the tight muscles, relaxing them until the boy was able to swallow. When he got it all down, Carl-Eric gave him a couple of more swigs of Vodka, each time holding the boy until he could swallow it all. He took one more healthy swig himself and then capped the Vodka bottle and threw it back in the drawer.

"Okay, boy, we're gonna give your mouth a little rest now. I'm gonna work on your tight asshole for a while but I don't want you to forget what your mouth is for so we will just give you something to suck on in the meantime."

As he spoke, he picked up another object from the top of the chest of drawers. He held it in front of the boy's wide eyes, letting him to get a good look. It was a piece of flesh-colored rubber. Olivier, again the ingenuous little boy, had never seen anything like it. It was shaped like a cock, a fat thick man cock. It was almost as big around as Carl-Eric's. It wasn't as long but the head was a match for the flaring bulge at Carl-Eric's jock pouch.

"Do you know what this is, asshole?"

"No, Sir."

"It's a fucking dildo, boy. It like my cock. Not near as fucking long, as you can plainly see, and not quite as fucking thick but almost."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm gonna use to open you up. Get you ready for the real thing, boy."

Olivier was starting to feel warm and flushed from the alcohol. There was a soft buzzing in his ears that wasn't at all unpleasantly. Whatever it was that his Master was saying must be right. He could trust him, but deep inside he was frightened like a little boy. Olivier felt a little dizzy, lightheaded and relaxed. He would believe and do anything and everything his Master wanted.

"Yes, Sir."

He replied, a foolish grin parting his lips as he stared, fascinated by the rubber prick. Carl-Eric pushed it between his parted lips. He opened his mouth wide enough to accept the thickness planted at the back of his throat, forcing him to breathe through his nose.

He didn't gag. He was relaxed now, buzzing like a bee. Carl-Eric turned again to the chest of drawers, picked up something like a loose leather cap.

"One more thing. To make it easy for you to concentrate while I'm playing with your tight little asshole. I don't want you to get distracted."

He said, grinning broadly,

"That's what this is for."

He held it up in front of the boy. It was a leather hood with several holes and straps to fasten it. That was all Olivier saw before Carl-Eric slipped it over his head. For a second he couldn't see or hear anything. He couldn't even breath!

It was amazing to him how fast he hit panic mode this time. He was on the verge of a panic attack when a hole slipped into place over his nose, allowing him to breathe again. As the hood was tugged to fit snugly over his head, he realized there were also ear holes that allowed him to hear. The end of the rubber cock that was stuffed in his mouth also seemed to fit through an opening in the taut soft leather but that was it.

There were no eyeholes. He was blind, unable to see anything of what was being done to him.

He felt Carl-Eric tighten something around his neck and around his head across his mouth, forcing the rubber cock to be solidly forced in his mouth. He couldn't have pushed it out if he wanted to.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes Master"

"Don't be, your Master is superior to you in all ways and you are his property and he will always protect his property from harm."

Then Carl-Eric grabbed his wrists and pulled them around him. He felt him fasten wide padded leather straps around each wrist which then were buckled to each other leaving him bound and helpless.

He waited on his knees.

Unable to see. Unable to speak. Hands bound behind him.

His heavy breaths echoed in his ears. Now he felt like a slave boy!

The slave boy he wanted to be. It mentally changed him. Being a slave boy to please him, the Master, and no needs for himself. Olivier meanwhile was no longer scared.

He was happy!

He was finally where he was always meant to be: under the control him, this Master, the superior man.

"All set, boy. We got your mouth warmed up so we will let you get used to having it filled with that dildo of a cock for a while. We will get back to it. Enjoy. Get to like the feel of a cock down your throat. I know what I'm talking about. Believe me."

Olivier believed. Already, the tube seemed to fit in his mouth. He could even relax his throat enough to squeeze tentatively around its bulging head. Carl-Eric's hands moved down his back, his butt and spread the rounded muscles, kneading and squeezing them.

His black leather gloves made the boy's olive skin look lighter, almost cream colored. The boy had the most beautiful ass Carl-Eric had ever seen. He pulled the buttocks apart. The crevice between the cheeks were perfectly smooth. There was no hair, not even around the tiny puckered hole. He ran his forefinger down the cleft. Even through his leather gloves, he could feel its smooth warmth. He pushed lightly at the pucker.

The bound and gagged boy jerked, grunting deep in this throat.

"The little asshole likes that? You like a strong guy poking around your butt, don't you?"

The boy's butt wriggled against his finger. The pink hole flexed like a tiny sea anemone. Carl-Eric leaned down and kissed it and gave it a light lick,

"Good asshole,"

He whispered.

Standing up, he grasped the kneeling boy under his armpits and lifted him over his bed. He set him down by the side of it, pushing him forward so the top half of his body rested on the mattress. This position force his ass out, giving Carl-Eric max access. He knelt behind the boy, pulling off his right glove as he did so. He placed his hands on those perfect ass cheeks and spread them.

Slowly he bent his blond head forward, enjoying the musky boy smell of Olivier's sweet ass.

Olivier's body shook as Carl-Eric pressed his lips, first one cheek and then the other, kissing the firm globes warmly. Then he moved his mouth into the crevice and ran his rough wet tongue up and down, driving the helpless boy crazy with his hot licks. As he worked his tongue back and forth over the pucker he did push lightly, until he felt it relax. Then he worked his tongue around it, pushing his tongue harder and harder at the circle tighten muscle.

Olivier was defeated. Was this happening? Was Carl-Eric actually kneeling behind him and kissing his ass?

He wanted to scream as that hot tongue moved over his ass, pushing at his hole but all he could do with the cock gag in his mouth was grunt tumultuously. He pressed back, arching his back to open his ass to more of that hot, rough tongue.

Carl-Eric was licking his open ass. And his hot mouth hits his asshole and his hot wet tongue rimmed his

asshole and probed it open.

And there were shivers went up his spine as his hot tongue probed his asshole and his face writhes in his hot ass as he eats his ass. And he pressed back into his face. He felt the sucking and chewing and tonguing on his ass and he licked his asshole.

Olivier loved every second!

Carl-Eric immediately felt the change.

He moved his gloveless hand up, pressing his forefinger against the pucker as he continued to lick it. Olivier grunted harder.

He growled.

Carl-Eric finger slipped in.

He howled.

Into the tight ring to the second knuckle.

Olivier's body stiffened as he felt the deep burn. The licking continued. Faster. Something was lodged in his ass. Harder. I felt good. He flexed his ass muscles around the intruder and grunted.

Carl-Eric lined the next finger up beside the buried forefinger. He licked and licked and pushed and pushed and the boy took both fingers. Carl-Eric licked and sucked around that pink stretched-out boy hole. Sweat ran down the ass crack. Carl-Eric licked the salty drops as the bound and hooded boy slave humped his butt back against his face.

The slave boy was ready now, ready for the next step in his training as a sex slave!

Oh, I won't let my spirit go

Until I get to my destination

I'm gonna take it slowly cause I'm making it mine

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Chaim

groeiutrecht@gmail.com