I live in a very expensive condo in one of the most exclusive and
prestigious buildings in town. Most of my neighbors are very wealthy
retirees. They generally purchase their condo's with cash. I have a
five-year plan where my condo will not only be paid off in full, but I
will also have a net worth in seven-figures -- yes, you heard me right
-- I am thirty years-old and will be a millionaire by the time I'm
thirty-five, sooner if my investments return more than I anticipate.
Yes, my life is great right now, but I would like to get back out on the
dating circuit. I haven't had a date with a woman in over six-months,
and a committed relationship in years. That has been my choice. I have
given my work a hundred percent concentration but now I feel the need
for female companionship. Shouldn't a guy be able to be successful
without feeling so lonely?
Besides, rumor has it my boss is being transferred and I may be in line
to take his job. However, our company is very conservative as are our
customers and it's a fact that married men have a much greater chance
for promotions than unmarried men.
I've also heard baseless gossip behind my back concerning my sexuality.
How can a smart and attractive thirty year-old man NOT be married? He
MUST be gay, some have concluded. Not that there is anything wrong with
that, but the mere mention of homosexual perversions would get me fired
and ruin my life.
Needless to say, I work so much my sex life has been non-existent unless you count masturbation as sex -- which I do, hahaha...
I like to think I have elevated jerking-off into an art form -- no,
seriously...you see, I don't do it the way most guys do, stroking their
dicks until they shoot a load in the air...no, my way requires less
work, and I must say, my climaxes are nothing short of sensational.
What is my secret, you ask? Well, to start with you must have a
foreskin. If I didn't have one I would have been doomed to a lifetime of
groping and stroking like the average guy, but I discovered early on,
and by accident really, that when my foreskin completely covers my glans
and I shoot my load into the foreskin -- OH MY GOD - my brain nearly
explodes and I flop around on the bed like a fish out of water -
FANTASTIC!!
When I began having fantasies of girls and sex and I'd spring a boner, I
was sharing a bedroom with my older brother. I knew I had to be as
quiet as possible. My natural inclination was to open my pajama bottoms
and take hold of my hard-on and stroke it as fast as I could. Fine and
dandy, but when the fluids began leaking from my dick and I closed the
foreskin over it, there was a loud, squishy noise I was afraid my
brother could hear it.
Frustrated, I rolled over onto my stomach to go to sleep but my dick was
still hard. My erection was trapped tightly between the mattress and my
belly and it felt sooo good my hips began a grinding movement pressing
my dick harder and harder against the mattress.
My foreskin was closed tightly over the glans and when I shot my load --
OH MY GOD -- it was the greatest moment of my life - I was hooked
forever!
Years later I learned my way of jacking-off is called 'the friction
method' used primarily by very young and immature boys...I don't care --
'the friction method' never fails to give me the most explosive and
satisfying of orgasms.
There is, however, one unfortunate side-effect: orgasms I've had with
females have NEVER come close to what I can do all by myself.
Well, I guess there are TWO unfortunate side-effects...since I bring
myself off better than any female can, I do not feel the compulsion or
need to seek out and do everything I can to find a satisfying
relationship with a woman.
To be honest about it, I couldn't care less. Most women's cunts are dank
and dark caverns. I've had little or no sensation when I have stuck my
dick into them. I freely admit I've never satisfied a woman with my
dick. No, I've been forced to grovel between their legs with my lips and
tongue to bring them off, and I don't have to tell you how distasteful
and repugnant it is eating-out a smelly pussy.
I think for the sake of my career though, I should get back into the
dating arena. I can always hold my breath or breathe thru my mouth when I
am pleasuring them.
Where was I? Oh, yeah...anyway, several months ago Dustin was hired as a
mailboy at work. He's a good-looking and personable young man, maybe a
little on the cocky-side, but very friendly.
I immediately took a liking to him. I admired his self-confidence and
the way he smiled at me whenever he stopped by my office and engaged me
in conversation.
He was not a typical twenty-one year old. He treated me as though we
were equals, and sometimes made remarks to me I thought were somewhat
disrespectful considering he was just a mailboy, and I am a top-earning
consultant.
In less than a week he went from addressing me properly to saying "Hi
cutie" when he greeted me. I blushed but didn't correct him and a week
after that when he said "Hi cutie" he also smiled and winked at me. My
face turned so red I had tears in my eyes.
I am grateful he is very discreet and careful not to say those things
when other employees are within earshot, but still, it was getting out
of hand and I needed to put a stop to it. On his afternoon mail run I
quietly said to him, "Dustin, we need to talk after work."
His eyes bugged wide and a huge smile spread across his ruggedly handsome face.
"Sure thing, cutie, your place or mine?" he asked with a wink and that damned smile still plastered on his face.
I blushed and had to momentarily look away until I regained my composure.
"No-no," I said, "nothing like that...no, uh, some place public where we don't know anyone, would be best..."
"Well, there's a bar on the northside of town where I am positive we
won't run into any of our co-workers -- it's called 'Chaps' and they
have a great happy hour from 4 to 7...want to meet me there?" he asked
eagerly.
From the excited tone in his voice I could tell he thought of my offer
as a social activity, not strictly business as I intended. No matter,
I'll correct his mistake later at the bar.
"Okay, sure, I'll meet you there," I said.
Again with that winking. "You're gonna love this bar, cutie, and they're gonna love you, too," he said then walked away.
What the heck does that mean? I wondered.
***
The most difficult aspect of my job is having to discipline co-workers.
To make it even worse, Jennifer is a co-worker who I had a brief affair
with less than six-months ago. We parted as friends, I think, but the
silence between us has been deafening.
Not only had we been to bed together, but she and I had been up for the
same promotion shortly after our affair ended. Even though she had more
seniority, and is extremely capable in her work, I was awarded the
promotion over her.
The companies we deal with are ultra conservative and old fashioned.
Many of them view aggressive women like Jennifer suspiciously. I am part
of 'the good-old-boys' network and she is not.
I admit she should have been given the promotion, and it wasn't the
first time the company discriminated against a woman. Needless to say,
it has been awkward, but we are both professionals and go on about our
business in a professional manner.
I suppose I am not very well-liked by the other associates either, but
I'm here to do a job and not win a popularity contest. I wouldn't be
where I am today if I worried whether my fellow employees liked me or
not.
Sure, I've had to sacrifice my social life to advance in the company,
but I am on target to retire by the time I am fifty and I will have more
money than I could ever spend for the rest of my life.
***
On the drive to meet the mailboy at the bar my nerves finally settled
from my confrontation with Jennifer over our newest account. I don't
handle face-to-face disputes very well. I was simply following thru on
direct orders from our CEO in New York.
He told me to take over the Marsden account from Jennifer. The Marsden
people were put off by Jennifer's style and the CEO wanted someone like
me to make them happy.
The account would make the consultant a very, very steady and impressive
commission, and I tried my best to assure Jennifer I was acting on
orders from our CEO, not out of selfish greed. I don't think she
believed me. Oh well, not much I can do about that...
There were a handful of cars in the back parking lot of the bar. I
locked my BMW and walked towards the door. Something out of the corner
of my eye caught my attention.
What are those two guys doing? I wondered.
I stared at two men sitting in the backseat of one of the cars. Oh my
God, are they kissing? I had to focus my eyes to believe what I was
staring at. Sure enough, not only were they kissing, but the guy sitting
next to the door was moving his arm up-and-down very quickly in the lap
of the other guy. What the hell?
And then I understood what I was looking at -- Oh-my-God, he's giving
the guy next to him a handjob -- I quickly averted my eyes and stared at
the back door of the bar and hurried inside.
There were only about a dozen or so customers, all men, and I saw Dustin
sitting by himself on a bar stool with a glass of beer in front of him.
I sat next to him and ordered a Perrier from the friendly bartender. "Right away, cutie," he said with a smile.
I sat in stunned silence while Dustin laughed and remarked, "See -- I told you you're cute!"
I looked around at the other male customers and asked Dustin, "What kind of place IS this?"
"What do you think it is?" he shot back at me.
"Oh my God, this is a queer bar, isn't it?" I said more as a comment than a question.
"Why are you acting so surprised?" he asked me. "Didn't you see those two guys in the back seat on your way inside?"
And then another thought occurred to me. "Are you gay?" I asked him.
He ignored my question and called out to the bartender, "Jessie, two 'Fireballs' please!"
"Right away, Dustin," said the bartender.
There was an awkward silence while the bartender placed two low-ball
glasses before us and filled them half-full with the cinnamon whiskey I
was all-too familiar with.
Dustin hoisted his glass and said, "Here's to you old man! Hahahahaha..."
He clinked my glass and chugged down the sweet liquid. It took me two gulps to swallow all of mine.
"One more round, Mister Barkeep!" Dustin said to Jessie and I watched in
stunned silence the bartender fill our glasses almost to the top.
"I can't be doing this," I protested. "I have to drive home!"
"Don't worry about a thing, cutie, I took an Uber here and if you can't
drive -- I'll drive you home," he said then drained the second shot of
'Fireball.'
"What are you waiting for, old man? Can't you handle your liquor?" he asked in a teasing manner.
He said two things to me I didn't like -- he called me 'old man' and
then challenged my drinking ability. Again, it took me two swallows, but
I did drink it all.
The rush of warmth to my belly was instantly followed by the euphoric
feeling liquor always gives me. I admit, I am not much of a drinker, but
I love its effects on me.
"C'mon cutie, let's go sit in a booth," he said and stood from the bar stool.
All of a sudden, Jessie the Bartender filled our glasses a third time.
Dustin and I clinked glasses again, and this time I swallowed it all in
one shot. By the time I stood my head was swimming in a sweet fog of
bliss.
I almost fell but Dustin caught me and said, "Don't worry about a thing, old man...I'll look out for you!"
Before we went to a booth, Jessie filled our glasses again.
Ignoring my protestations, Dustin turned to me and said, "Pay the man, Johnny -- and give him a good tip!"
Huh? What? "Why do I have to pay him?" I asked.
"You're the big-time account executive, Johnny -- I'm the lowly mail boy...you figure it out!"
I hated being called 'Johnny' but I paid the bill and gave Jessie a thirty-percent tip.
I was unsteady on my feet. Dustin helped me to a booth. He pushed me all
the way to the wall and sat so close beside me our legs were touching.
In my cloudy mind, I wondered why we were sitting side-by-side in a booth?
Dustin raised his glass, and I raised mine almost spilling the brown
liquid. This time I was again able to down the shot on my first try.
Oh-my-goodness, I mindlessly smiled at Dustin in my alcoholic stupor. He
smiled back at me, leaned over and kissed my cheek.
"What is that for?" I asked.
"To the beginning of a beautiful relationship, Johnny," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
***
My head pounded so hard I had difficulty adjusting my eyes to locate my cell phone beside the bed.
"Hello," I grunted into the phone.
"Good morning, lover, how do you feel today?" said a vaguely familiar male voice.
Lover? Huh? WHAT???
I mumbled, "Uh, well----"
"That was a WONDERFUL handjob you gave me last night, Johnny - I can't
wait to be with you again tonight!" said the voice interrupting me.
"This is the wake-up call I promised to make -- you have an hour to get
ready for work -- see you there, lover!"
My brain was beginning to slightly clear. I finally recognized the voice as belonging to Dustin.
OH MY GOD -- NO -- I COULDN'T HAVE...oh-no...oh-no...oh-no -- did I really do that again?...Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-oh-noooooooo...
***
I washed down the aspirin with orange juice then took a hot shower. Bits
and pieces of my memories from last night flashed before my eyes but I
didn't remember the act Dustin had accused me of performing.
I wondered: What kind of game is the boy playing with me to make up such
an awful story? What could he possibly expect to get out of me by
spreading a lie?
By the time I arrived at work I decided to stop this nonsense before it
got completely out of control. I would fire the boy. It was his word
against mine and who would ever believe a punk kid mailboy over me?
My resolve calmed my frazzled nerves. I breathed a sigh of relief when I
exchanged routine morning greetings with everyone I saw. No one looked
at me funny, or said anything out of the ordinary.
I fired-up my computer to check my emails...something I did first thing
every morning. I gave a quick scan of the senders then suddenly my heart
stopped. I glared at Dustin's name and the file he'd sent. It was an
audio file with a note that read: "You may want to lock your office door
before you listen to this...see U tonight sweet-thing!!"
An icy chill raced up my spine. My hands began trembling. I did indeed lock my door before I opened the file.
There were two voices in casual conversation. Yes, they belonged to
Dustin and myself. Suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere I heard his
voice ask me: "So how many guys have you been to bed with? Four? Five?
More?"
I replied: "What are you talking about? I am NOT gay!"
"Quit lying to me, Johnny...I know for a fact about the guy who picked
you up in the park -- he took you to his apartment and the two of you
ended up naked on his bed..."
"What the hell?" I said.
"Did you suck his cock? Or did you let him fuck you in the ass?"
"That's crazy -- I wouldn't do those things..."
"No, I know you wouldn't...I know you just jerked him off -- I know you
took his cock in your hand and masturbated him...isn't that right,
Johnny?"
Did I confess to him last night? I said, "I was young...all young guys experiment..."
"Not all young guys..." I heard Dustin say. "How did his hard cock feel in your hand, Johnny? You loved it, didn't you?"
I heard my voice say, "It was one time...I was curious...I never did it again..."
"Tell me the whole story, Johnny...before you jerked him off he had you kneel on all-fours on the end of the bed, right?"
Silence. Oh my God, I DID confess to him!
"RIGHT???"
"Yes, okay...I was on all-fours on his bed..."
"He wanted to fuck you, didn't he? You let him lube-up your asshole so he could fuck you, is that correct?"
How could I have told him this story? What is wrong with me? "Yes," I said in a whisper.
"Yes what? Tell me what he did?"
"He lubed-up my hole so he could fuck me..."
"And then what happened? You went so far as to let him stick the head of his cock inside you, RIGHT!?"
"Yes -- yes, but it hurt too much -- I told him 'No'..."
"What did he do next?"
"He, uh, he called me a 'cock-tease'..."
"You didn't like being called a 'cock-tease' did you? What did you do about it?"
"I jerked him off..."
The recording suddenly changed. The first part I could hear the
background noises of the bar. What followed clearly happened in the
quiet of my car. I remember Dustin driving me home.
"Johnny, sit next to me...good boy," said Dustin.
"Now give me a kiss..."
"No way!" I said.
"You know, Johnny, if I told this story to corporate, what do you think
they'd do? You know damn well even the merest hint of something like
this would get you fired...I'm not going to tell you again: give me a
kiss!"
"It would be your word against mine!"
He said, "Very true, but is this the kind of story you want other people to hear? No, I didn't think so -- now give me a kiss!"
I blushed when I heard the noises of our sloppy kissing.
The rest of it could be heard quite clearly.
"Feel how hard you've made my dick...feel it NOW, Johnny!"
"Oh yeah, squeeze it, Johnny -- run your hand back-and-forth on my cock!"
"Oh, very nice, Johnny...open my pants and take out my cock - NOW!!"
I never realized just how dirty a zipper can sound when being lowered.
"Oh, that feels wonderful, sweetie...oh yeah, go slow at first...that's
it -- stroke my hard cock...tell me how much you love playing with my
cock...I want to hear you say it, Johnny -- NOW!!"
"I, uh, I love playing with your hard cock..."
"I know you do, baby...tell me you want to make me cum -- say it for me, Johnny!"
"I want to make you cum..."
"Say it again!"
"I want to make you cum, Dustin -- I want to make you cum!"
My voice was excited. It sounded to me like I really did want to make
him cum! I would be completely destroyed if someone listened to this
tape. I could never allow that to happen.
***
Dustin didn't deliver my mail until 3:30. He closed the door when he came inside.
"Did you listen to the whole tape?" he asked.
"Yes," I said softly.
"Good boy...today is Friday, come over to my place tonight and we'll
talk about how you can get the original recording from me...if you're a
good, obedient little boy, maybe I'll give it to you when you leave..."
"I have plans tonight," I said.
"That is not the answer I want to hear from you..."
"Okay-okay, I'll be there tonight."
"Tell me you want to be my fagboy tonight," he crudely said with an evil grin on his face.
"No way!!" I protested.
"Say it or the audio file goes online as soon as I leave your office!" he spat at me. "SAY IT!!"
Oh-my-God -- how can this be happening to me?!
Tears filled my eyes. I looked at the desk and said to him, "I want to be your fagboy tonight..."
"That didn't sound very sincere, cutie, say it again -- convince me you want to be my fagboy!!"
My face burned with shame as I heard myself say, "I want to be your fagboy tonight -- please, let me be your fagboy, Dustin."
A contemptuous smile spread across his handsome face.
"That's a good boy, Johnny...be at my place by six and remember, your
dirty little secret is safe with me as long as you are my eager and
obedient puppy tonight...in fact, if you do a good job and make me
happy, I will give you the audio file and no one will ever hear it. Do
you understand me, Johnny?"
I felt an instant rush of positive energy -- of hope - a light at the end of a long tunnel.
"Yes, I understand..." I replied.
"Good, now come over here and give me a nice and long, sweet kiss!"
The color drained from my face as I stood and approached him. When I was
close enough, he took me in his strong embrace and my arms snaked
around his broad back.
By the time he ended our kiss, I was weak in the knees and my prick was stiff and throbbing inside my briefs.
With that arrogant smile plastered on his face, he looked down into my
eyes and said, "After all these years your dreams are finally going to
come true tonight..." and he ran his finger slowly back-and-forth across
my lips.
My humiliation was now complete. His laughter was still ringing in my ears when he closed the office door behind him.
Oh my God - how can this end up any other way but very, very badly?
***
When I parked in front of the building I had to double-check the
address. The condo complex was very impressive and I figured I was at
the wrong place...I mean, there was no way a mailboy could afford to
live there.
"Wow," I said out loud when I confirmed it was the right address.
My heart was heavy and a huge lump formed in my throat as I slowly
climbed the steps leading to the front door. A million thoughts swirled
through my head. I'm not naive, I had a good idea what the queerboy
would demand from me.
Just do what he wants, John, I thought to myself. Yes, it will be
disgusting, but it doesn't mean anything - it's all about
self-preservation...he has all the power right now -- he can ruin your
life...sure, you'll be doing queer-things with him, but that doesn't
mean you're gay -- you have to go along with him -- YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!!
I swallowed hard when I walked into the small foyer and found the condo
number and pressed the button. I waited and was about to press it again
when he buzzed me inside. The lobby was luxuriously furnished. I was
definitely impressed.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor, the top floor. Everything about
the building smelled of class and money. It really made me wonder again
how the mailboy could live here.
I stood before 6-A and took a deep breath before I rang the doorbell.
When the door swung open I received my first surprise of the evening:
Dustin was wearing only boxers and I found myself staring at his
well-muscled arms and and sculpted chest.
My heart began pounding. He wants to get right to it -- he's not wasting any time, is he?
"Hiya, cutie, come inside!" he said enthusiastically.
I looked around the condo and became somewhat puzzled. Expensive
furniture yes, but something looked strange to me. What I could see was
light and airy, in a variety of soft pastels. It struck me as girly and
feminine. Many trinkets and knick-knacks neatly arranged on shelves and
small tables.
I thought: Who knows, maybe he's one of THOSE queers. I don't really know how it works!
"Take off your shoes and socks," he said. "I think you'll like the thick carpeting on your feet."
I sat on the sofa and did what I was told. He was right -- the thick carpeting felt wonderful on my bare feet.
On the rich oak coffee table there were two glasses of red wine and a small blue pill next to each glass.
He saw me looking and said with a smile, "They're vitamins -- they'll help our, uh, 'stamina', heh-heh-heh."
I followed his lead and put the pill in my mouth and washed it down with
a gulp of wine. We sat back and I did my best to avert my gaze from his
marvelous body. It was awfully warm sitting so close to him.
"You hurt my feelings, cutie," he suddenly said.
"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked him.
"I thought you would give me a nice, big kiss when you saw me, heh-heh-heh,' he said.
Oh no, what does he expect from me? My hands began to tremble. I took
another gulp of wine, turned to face him, closed my eyes and pressed my
mouth to his. He gently held my head while our lips and tongues met. If I
hadn't been so repulsed by the fact I was kissing a guy I'd have to
admit he was a very good kisser.
When he pulled his face from mine I had to catch my breath. My eyes fluttered -- my prick was semi-erect.
"I'm at a disadvantage here, cutie," he said.
"W-What do you mean?" I asked.
"Here I am sitting in my undies and you're fully dressed...why don't you
stand over there and put on a little strip tease show for me!" he said.
I couldn't believe how this young punk was talking to me -- showing me
absolutely no respect - but I had to go along or there would be dire
consequences.
My trembling fingers found the top button of my dress shirt and opened it with some difficulty.
"That's not very sexy, cutie, dance for me while you undress!" he said firmly.
He saw the dumbfounded expression on my red face and added,"Pretend
there's music playing -- you've watched women strip in clubs, haven't
you?" he asked.
I nodded my head.
"Well then boy, think of a song you like and move your hips and
shoulders to the music," he said without a trace of a smile on his
handsome face.
Oh my God - he not only wants to embarrass me, but he wants me to humiliate myself.
"C'mon boy, get dancing!" he said impatiently.
I snapped, "I'm not a boy -- I'm a man!"
A wry smile crossed his lips. "You may be older than me, but in our
relationship YOU are the boy, and I am the man! Now start dancing, boy,
and strip!"
I regretted my reaction to him calling me 'boy' -- he'd struck a nerve and now he knew it.
Music played in my head. An old rock song I had heard watching a woman
strip to it in a club many years ago. I moved my shoulders from
side-to-side, my hips slowly rolled and gyrated.
The arrogant smile of victory on his face caused my heart to sink further into despair and debasement.
When I pulled off the dress shirt, I don't know why, but I made a show
of swinging it above my head before I tossed it on the floor. I'd
remembered the stripper doing that with her bra.
Dustin laughed out loud and said, "Oh yeah, you're going to be a very entertaining little bitch!"
Huh? What did he mean by that? I let his comment go and reached for the belt on my $400 Canali stretch cotton/silk slacks.
When I opened the belt and unfastened the waistband a jolt of
electricity raced up and down my spine and my prick stiffened inside my
briefs.
Whoa, what's that about? I wondered. How can demeaning myself in front of this punk make me aroused?
I panicked. When I push the slacks down my legs he will see the tented-out crotch of my briefs. How embarrassing!
"Finish it, boy, get those pants off!" he said loudly.
I took a deep breath and pushed the slacks down my legs to the floor. I
stepped out them and couldn't help myself, I neatly folded the expensive
trousers and placed them on a chair.
I heard Dustin suddenly exclaim, "I should have known it -- you wear women's panties!" and he burst out laughing.
Quick to defend myself I protested, "They're not panties -- they're
cotton, string bikini briefs and I buy them in the men's department!!"
Still laughing, he said, "Whatever dude -- they look like panties AND they're YELLOW!"
I cursed myself. I had meant to wear the black pair but forgot.
"Come over here and stand in front of me!" he said sharply. "Clasp your
hands together behind your neck...yes, good boy, now open your legs
wider...no, wider than that...good boy."
I had never felt so exposed and vulnerable in my life. Standing nearly
nude before this young punk was the most humiliating moment of my life.
He leaned forward and gently stroked my inner thighs.
"Nice and smooth..." he said softly, "...just like a girl...but all this hair has got to go..."
I glanced down and saw the unruly pubes sticking out of my briefs.
"I want you hairless and smooth...you will soak in the tub after I give you your first lesson."
Huh? My first lesson?
I couldn't help it -- my body reacted to his gentle touches and my prick rose to full erection inside my briefs.
"Isn't that cute," he said with a chuckle staring at my crotch, "...the
uh, 'vitamins' we took are beginning to work -- I've got a raging
hard-on too...but for now, you show me yours and then I'll show you
mine."
Huh? What?
"Quit stalling, boy, lower your panties and show me your dick!" he ordered.
I wanted to shout 'THEY ARE NOT PANTIES' but remained silent. My fingers
found the waistband and lowered them far enough for my hard prick to
spring into view. His laughter caused my face to flush red and bruise my
fragile ego.
"Yeah, I can see why you don't have a girlfriend...no self-respecting woman would ever want that tiny thing inside her!"
Tears came to my eyes. He'd struck perhaps, my most vulnerable nerve.
"It's average size," I said defensively, then lied,"...I've never had a problem satisfying women!"
"Sure, it's 'average size' for a twelve-year-old boy!" he said.
He suddenly lifted his hips and tugged his boxers to his knees exposing
his hard, manly cock. It had to be at least six-and-a-half inches long
and quite thick. I guess I stared at it a little too intensely.
"I can tell you like it, cutie...be a good little boy and maybe I'll let
you kiss it!" he teased. "You know what, cutie? I'm in a good mood, get
on your knees and give it a kiss right now!"
Huh? What?
"I am getting very tired of your stalling -- when I tell you to do
something, cutie, I expect you to obey me instantly...unless you WANT me
to post the audio file online..."
"No, no, don't do that, okay?" I stammered then dropped to my knees and
continued staring at his manly pole of flesh. My own hard prick began
throbbing.
"Get closer," he ordered, "...lean in and breathe thru your nose...I want you to know what a real man smells like!"
I did as I was told. OH-MY-GOD -- the aroma from his hard cock and heavy
scrotum was so intoxicating I groaned out loud and nearly lost my
balance.
I couldn't put off the inevitable any longer. I pursed my lips and pressed them to his magnificent shaft. Tentative at first.
"Kiss it, boy, kiss it all the way around -- up-and-down -- make sure
you kiss every inch of it or you'll be sorry!" he said. His words
sounded like a threat, but I could hear the lust and desire in his
voice.
I obeyed his command. His cock was hot on my lips. Oh my goodness, soooo hot! I covered the boy's manly cock with wet kisses.
I don't know when or why it happened, but I became aware I had replaced
my lips with my tongue. Licking it with just the tip then lathering it
with my whole tongue. I boldly licked at the slit, lapping up his oozing
pre-cum. I loved the taste of his slightly salty viscous fluids.
I became briefly ashamed of the joy and excitement I was experiencing
but told myself it wasn't my fault, he was forcing me to do this and
that I had no choice.
"Wet your lips and slide them over the head...yes, good boy...move your
head up and down...ohhh, yes, that's good...always keep your tongue
moving on it...good boy...that's it -- you're doing great -- suck me
off, boy...OHHHHH-YESSSSSSSS-- SUCK MY COCK, JOHNNY—SUCK-MY-COCK!!"
I tried to hold back but failed miserably. The moment he yelled "SUCK MY
COCK, JOHNNY" my balls exploded and my prick shot four-five
cannon-spurts of semen and sperm into the air.
I was betrayed by my body and vanquished by his laughter. It became
crystal clear to both of us I have a very strong submissive side - it
felt natural to obey his commands.
Worse yet, I loved having his manly cock in my mouth and the inner pride
and joy I experienced when I was able to make him cum. When I swallowed
every last drop of his manly nectar and he patted me on the head and
said, "Good boy -- good boy" I was awash with a glow of satisfaction and
happiness I had never before known.
I don't know what's happening to me -- maybe I am queer. Would that be such a bad thing?
***
An hour later on the drive home the feeling of the flash drive in my
pocket was scant solace for the constant, dull aching sensation in my
rectum. I had made a deal with the devil and the devil had taken my
virginity.
His verbal assault of me was much, much worse than the physical. He
insisted I parrot his every utterance and exclamation until my mind
finally snapped and I truly believed everything I was saying.
"That's a good little sissy boy, Johnny...yes, slide your pussy back and
forth on my cock...ohhh yes that's good...tell me you love having my
manly cock in your boypussy, Johnny -- come on, say it - TELL ME WHAT I
WANT TO HEAR!"
"Ohhhhh god -- ohhhhh-yessssssss...I love sliding my boypussy back and
forth on your manly cock...your cock feels sooo good in my boypussy -- I
love getting fucked in the ass by your manly cock..."
"You're nothing but a sissy boy, Johnny...you're not a real man, are you Johnny? ARE YOU??"
"Noooooo, I'm not a real man -- I'm a sissy boy -- I love your manly
cock sliding in and out of my pussy...oh my God I love it -- yes sir,
you are right -- I am a sissy fagboy -- I was born to serve and please
real men -- oh-God-oh-God-oh-God—I'm going to cum again, sir...oh yes,
fuck me harder, sir -- PLEASE FUCK ME HARDER!!"
In less than two-hours, the arrogant young punk broke me in and turned
me out. I could still feel every ridge, vein and bump of his hot cock
fucking my virgin hole. Incredibly, my little dick stiffened in my
briefs as I fantasized about being taken and used by other real men.
The illusions I had concocted of myself had been shattered and destroyed for good.
Yes, I loved kissing and licking and sucking his cock and balls...yes, I
loved him forcing me to bend over so he could ram his manly cock into
my boypussy...yes, I am a little sissy fagboy born to serve and please
men.
I am very lucky. Some men never learn who or what they truly are until it is too late.
***
I was nervous Monday morning going into work. I didn't have the
slightest clue what to expect from Dustin. Sure, I had the flash drive
in my possession, and had watched as he deleted the audio file from his
computer, but I didn't know what it meant.
He and I both knew that he turned me out, but what I didn't know was how
he could use that information without any proof. If it came down to it,
I would deny every allegation. I mean, I am the top executive
consultant and he was still just the mailboy.
My fears were somewhat settled right away when I walked from the
lunchroom to my office with coffee and a Danish and I saw Dustin walking
towards me. My hands began trembling; it was all I could do to not
spill the coffee.
"Good morning, Mister Michaels," he said as he passed by.
I blurted out, "Good morning to you too," and was relieved when he continued walking.
Okay, fine. The next time I'd have to see him would be around ten when he made his morning mail deliveries.
I was engrossed in a contract when I heard a light rapping on my door. "Come in," I called out.
The door opened half-way and Dustin stuck his head inside.
"Am I bothering you, Mister Michaels?" he softly inquired.
"Uh, no-no, come inside," I said.
My heart became heavy when he locked the door behind him. Uh-oh, what is this about? I wondered.
I could see he too was nervous. He fidgeted and mumbled, "I think we
need to keep what happened just between you and me, Mister Michaels."
My hands stopped trembling. I took a deep breath and said, "Yes, that's a very good idea, Dustin."
An impish grin spread across his handsome face.
"But that doesn't mean we have to end our relationship, does it?" he
asked sincerely. "I really had a great time with you...we have so much
in common."
I was at a loss for words. Here was this boy who blackmailed me into
having gay sex with him and now he called it a 'relationship'? Huh?
What?
"Well, uh..." I stammered, "...we probably shouldn't be seen together...I don't know where we could go to uh, you know -- meet."
Oh my God -- did I just tell him I want to continue our 'relationship'?
"I know -- I know," he said sadly. "I have a confession to make..."
"What is that?" I asked.
"Not to sound crude or anything, but my dick has been hard all morning
thinking about you!" he said, "It's really private in your office here,
no one ever bothers you without calling, do they?"
"No, no they don't," I said without thinking.
"Maybe I could come here this afternoon, and uh, you know..." he said sheepishly.
Am I really considering this? Are you out of your mind, John?
"You get off at three, right? Come in here when you finish work. That
way no one will be looking for you," I said scarcely believing I said
it.
He smiled and said, "I'm looking forward to it, thanks!"
***
It seemed like three o'clock would never get here. The closer it got to three, the stiffer my prick became.
Never in my life had I been a slave to my sexual urges until now. His
hard, manly cock was burned into my memory and I couldn't help but think
about it. I could smell it -- I could taste it!
At two-minutes after three, my door opened and Dustin came inside and locked it behind him.
I couldn't restrain myself. I stood and went to him and we embraced and
kissed -- our tongues dancing together. When he broke our kiss, he
pulled something out of his pocket.
Are those really women's pink panties? I wondered, completely baffled.
"Johnny, I have a confession to make -- I have a, what do you call it? A
fetish, I guess it is -- when you get naked, will you wear these for
me? Pleeeeze?"
Naked in my own office wearing pink panties?
"Dustin, I, uh, I dunno about this..." I mildly protested, but when I
stared at his handsome face and saw the combination of lust and fierce
intensity, I quickly stripped, took the panties from him and slid them
up my legs. I had to wriggle my hips like a girl to get them into place.
The smooth nylon material tightly encasing my penis and balls felt sooo
wonderful I sprung a boner that tented out the crotch of the panties.
Dustin smiled and said, "You look beautiful, cutie..." and pointing at
my erection added: "I had a feeling you'd love wearing panties!"
His comment embarrassed me and I flushed a deep red.
I watched Dustin almost tear off his clothes until he stood before me in his boxers. He took me in his arms and we kissed again.
He whispered in my ear, "Reach inside my shorts and feel how hard my cock is."
I simply groaned as I obeyed him. I groaned again when my hand held his
manly organ and slowly stroked it. The heat from it-- oh my God, the
heat!!
Dustin ran his finger over my lips so I smiled at him and dropped to my
knees. I hooked my small hands in the waistband of his boxers and tugged
them down his legs. He chuckled at my urgency to expose his hard, manly
cock.
I held the shaft of his cock, wet my lips, opened my mouth and moved my face forward but he suddenly stopped me.
"Ohhh, I dunno if I want to let you suck my cock..." he teased me.
It was a game we'd played the other night. I knew what had to be done.
"Oh no, please let me suck your cock -- I want your cock in my mouth -- please let me suck it -- PLEEEEEZZZZZ!!"
I looked up and saw his triumphant smile and heard him say, "Maybe I will, but not until you tell me who you are!"
Huh? This was new? Tell him who I am? What does THAT mean?
He answered it for me. "I wanna hear you say to me you're my panty-wearing, sissy fagboy who loves sucking cock!"
He saw the troubled expression in my eyes and firmly said, "Say it, Johnny, I want to hear you say it out loud to me, please!"
The manly aroma from his cock and balls wafted into my nostrils making
me dizzy with lust. I HAD to have his cock in my mouth NOW!
"YESSSSS - I am a panty-wearing, sissy fagboy...yes, I love sucking your cock -- please let me suck your cock -- PLEEEEZZZZZ!!"
***
The next day at work I began hearing the rumors. No, not rumors about me, heh-heh-heh...no, rumors about the company being sold.
The day after that the rumor became reality and our president was fired
by the new owners. New rumors about who would take his place spread like
wildfires. There was even a rumor that I was in line to become
president.
I laid low in my office simply doing my job. I had little or no contact
with other employees which wasn't unusual, I had always been kind of a
'Lone Ranger' and generally spoke only with the president. There was no
need to associate with the underlings.
In fact, I didn't want to be the president -- it would put a crimp in my
style. I liked trolling for clients by telephone and email. When
necessary I could personally reach out to them, but I preferred dealing
in facts and figures -- not personality to sway potential customers.
No, I stayed out of the office politics and simply did my job.
My biggest problem was at home, heh-heh-heh...you see, I'd gotten into
the habit of wearing those pink panties to bed every night but now they
were so crusty with dried cum, masturbating in them was no longer
pleasurable so this morning I hand-washed them in a liquid solution I'd
learned about online.
Damn, I hope they're nice and smooth again when I get home so I can, uh, use them tonight, heh-heh-heh...
Dustin has been very professional. Our dealings are short and
business-like. We haven't had uh, 'relations' since that day in my
office and I miss him, but it is for the good, at least until the
company turmoil cleared up.
At three o'clock I heard Dustin's familiar rapping on my door and when
he opened it I was about to say 'Come on in sexy' when I saw he was not
alone.
"This is Rocco," he said introducing me to a rather spectacular, young physical specimen. "I'm training him to take my job."
That surprised me. "Oh really -- what are you going to be doing?"
That smile of his crept across his handsome face.
"Oh, I'm starting at the university in a couple weeks," he said then gave me a sly wink. I had no idea what the wink meant.
"Oh...well, I'll miss you here -- we will ALL miss you here!" I clumsily replied.
He must have read the disappointment on my face because he quickly
added: "I'll be seeing you around -- you can't get rid of me that easy!"
He laughed out loud as I did too; my laughter was out of embarrassment though.
***
At bedtime, I slid my freshly smooth nylon pink panties into place and
my prick responded immediately. I flopped onto my belly and began
grinding my hard dick against the mattress.
The memory of my last encounter with Dustin was as fresh in my mind as the day it happened.
I hadn't known it, but he had slit a small hole in the seat of the sheer
material that aligned perfectly with my boypussy (his word for it, not
mine).
He used some lube on his fingers to prepare me, then took me forcefully from behind as I bent over my own desk.
Maybe it was the naughtiness of having sex at work with the mailboy, but
it was the most wonderful experience I'd had with him. He was an
animal. So was I. With every forward thrust of his magnificent cock I
violently pushed my hips backwards to take every inch of him inside me.
I don't know what happened but I lost my mind. I think it was the
combination of sliding my pussy back and forth on his manly cock while
at the same time the deliciously smooth material of the panties rubbing
and teasing my throbbing prick.
Anyway, when our climaxes exploded, I obeyed his instructions and cried
out:
"I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES---I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES---I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES"
and now every night in my own bed, I shout those exact words when my
orgasm fills my foreskin and panties with spurt-after-mind-blowing-spurt
of sperm and semen.
O-H-M-Y-G-O-D, it doesn't get any better than this, does it???
And just as I was leaving the office I received a text from Dustin:
"Tomorrow is my last day of work -- would you wear your special undies
for me? PLEEEEEZZZZZ!!"
NOOO -- HE'S LEAVING??!! Misty tears of sadness filled my eyes as I replied: "Anything for you, my young stud!!"
The moment I sent the reply I regretted it.
Good God, John, what the hell are you doing? You're a man -- not some
hide-in-the-shadows faggot -- get a grip on yourself -- what would Dad
think?
***
I have always tried my best to live a life of moderation and
self-control even though I understand I do have some character and
personality issues.
I am responsible for my own well-being. I work hard to earn money to
provide myself all the necessary needs and comforts in life and still
save enough so I will continue to be self-reliant for the rest of my
life.
I take great pride in being a free and independent man who answers to no
one but myself. I am the King of my Castle -- the Lord of the Manor --
the Master of my Domain...I was all of these things when I went into
work the next morning.
Brimming with confidence, self-assurance and personal dignity, I took a
back seat to no one...until that is, my three o'clock meeting with the
new president of the company.
***
I learned early the next day that Jennifer had been promoted to President & CEO.
Good for her, I thought, she deserves it! I was quite pleased she received the promotion. Not only for her, but myself, as well.
Yes, we were co-workers, but we were also competitors. We fought
tooth-and-nail over the same potential clients; sometimes our battles
grew so fierce either she or I would receive a reprimand from our boss.
Through it all though, we remained friends. We even dated for a brief
period of time. Her promotion actually clears the way for me to earn
more in commissions -- I won't have to fight with her for clients. It's a
definite win-win for both of us.
I sent her a congratulatory email. She responded with a 'Thank you' and set-up a three o'clock meeting in her new office.
I buried myself in work. I had to -- the panties I was wearing were
driving me crazy with lust causing my prick to stiffen if I didn't focus
all my attention on the job.
Lunchtime came and went without a single sighting of Dustin. I wasn't
overly concerned, I knew from experience he enjoys the 'afternoon
delight' I give him so I figured I'd see him sometime before my three
o'clock meeting.
I didn't. At 2:45 I texted him about my meeting and told him I'd
probably be back in my office no later than 4 o'clock. No reply.
Where is that boy? I wondered as I left my office and walked around the
corner and down the hallway to Jennifer's plush new office. The company
has always compensated the president quite handsomely.
There was a new face at the reception desk, a young guy, maybe in his
early twenties. It hadn't taken Jennifer long to replace old Mrs. Hanson
with fresh, young meat (one of her favorite expressions for younger men
she found attractive).
I introduced myself and he waved me inside the executive office. I saw
Jennifer sitting behind the big oak desk and surprise-surprise, Dustin
was seated on a chair right next to her.
Kind of odd for the mailboy to be sitting next to the president, I thought.
"Congratulations, Madame President," I said smiling at her. "They picked
the right person for the job! You're going to be a real asset to the
company!"
Her eyes narrowed then her lips curled into a small smile. "Cut the bullshit, Johnny-boy..."
Uh-oh...I felt a chill race up my spine.
She continued: "You've been undermining me every chance you got for the last five-years...now it is my turn!"
I flushed a deep red and stammered, "No-no, that's not true...whenever I was asked I always gave you glowing recommendations!"
"Is that so?" she asked then read from a paper on her desk. "What
Jennifer lacks in personality and temperament, her aggressive nature
with clients more than compensates for her shortcomings..."
Oh my God, how did she get this info? It was supposed to be strictly between me and the head of human resources!
"No-no, that was a compliment -- that is one of your best qualities --
you don't take crap from anyone -- that's what makes you a great
consultant!" I said as sincerely as possible.
She continued reading: "Her highly sexualized approach to new clients
can be considered one her strongest attributes as long as she doesn't
cross the fine line of acceptable behavior..."
Her fiery gaze fixed on me, she said, "Where did you come up with this crap? Some romance novel?"
"No-no-no, you're taking it out of context -- I never meant anything bad by it!" I frantically said.
"What do you think I should do with you?" she asked. "What would YOU do if someone wrote this about you?"
I stared at the floor thinking life as I knew it was over. She was going
to fire me and everything I have worked so hard for would be gone. I
had never experienced despair so deeply and personal and quite honestly,
I deserved it. I didn't understand why I had felt so threatened by her
all these years.
I murmured, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself...you had become sort of
an arch-rival -- you and me constantly fighting for clients...Jennifer, I
am truly sorry! I'll go clean out my office and be out of here within
the hour."
She did something that totally took me by surprise - she laughed. Suddenly Dustin joined her and was laughing, as well.
"Not so fast, my little sissy-boy!" she said. "You're not going anywhere!"
Huh? What did she call me? Did I hear her right?
She picked up a remote control and I heard the huge wall television blaring behind me.
"Wet your lips and slide them over the head...yes, good boy...ohhh, yes,
that's good...always keep your tongue moving on it...good boy...that's
it -- you're doing great -- suck me off, boy...OHHHHH-YESSSSSSSS-- SUCK
MY COCK, JOHNNY—SUCK-MY-COCK!!"
My eyes popped open wide. The color drained from my face. My head
snapped around and I saw myself on the screen with Dustin's cock in my
mouth. It was the night in Dustin's condo. I was on my knees, my head
bobbing back and forth over the mailboy's manly cock and from the dreamy
expression on my face I was obviously enjoying what I was doing for
him.
Dustin's face could not be seen. It was a close-up of his cock thrusting
in-and-out of my greedily sucking mouth. Suddenly I heard his voice
bellow: "I'm gonna cum in your mouth, Johnny...oh-oh-YES-YES-YES-SWALLOW
MY LOAD, JOHNNY-SWALLOW IT ALL, BABY-YES-YES-YES!!" and I could hear my
throat making loud and obscene gulping noises and clearly saw tiny
rivulets of sperm and semen escaping the sides of my mouth and dribbling
down my cheeks.
I became so overwhelmed with sheer terror my entire body shook. I wanted
to beg Jennifer to stop it -- to turn off the video but when I tried to
speak nothing came out. I stood there helplessly and watched as the
now-flaccid cock slid out of my mouth, and my lips and tongue eagerly
cleaned the penis of the remaining fluids.
NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-this can't be happening -- THIS-CAN'T-BE-HAPPENING!!
Suddenly Jennifer fast-forwarded and stopped at another sordid tableau
which I instantly remembered from the other day. I was stretched over
the desk in my office naked except for my pink panties -- Dustin's
steel-hard cock sliding in and out of my asshole thru the hole he'd slit
in the material.
I heard myself yelling "YES-OH GOD YES -- I LOVE SLIDING MY PUSSY
BACK-AND-FORTH ON YOUR WONDERFUL COCK -- HARDER -- HARDER -- FUCK ME
HARDER, DARLING!!"
Tears finally came to my eyes. This isn't fair -- the mailboy had
scripted the whole thing -- he had told me exactly what to say and I
went along with him.
And in a high-pitched, girly voice I heard myself shouting:
"I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES---I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES---I'M-CUMMING-IN-MY-PANTIES..."
and watched aghast, my face in the throes of orgasm, my body flopping
wildly about as I climaxed inside the panties.
This can't be happening, I thought. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!
Jennifer mercifully clicked off the video then said: "Johnny-boy, I've
got five solid hours of you performing all sorts of deviant, homosexual
acts with my little brother...I also have the email addresses for your
parents and your brothers and sisters not to mention all of your clients
- what do think I should do with the videos?"
OH-MY-GOD---NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...
Wait a minute, did she say "my little brother"? Huh? They're brother and sister? What the hell is going on here???
"Not only will I send the videos to everyone you know, I'll post them on
porn sites all over the internet -- you'll become famous -- so famous
no one will ever hire you again -- well, heh-heh-heh -- you might get
hired to make make more gay porno movies!"
I buried my face in my head and pleaded, "Stop it -- please stop
it...okay-okay, you win...I get it -- you got your revenge...I'll be out
of here within an hour just please don't show those to anyone else,
okay? I beg you to keep those for yourself and no one else, please!"
I was confused by the smiles on their faces and their relaxed demeanor's. They seemed to be amused that my life was over.
She said, "Noooo, I don't want to fire you, Johnny-boy, you're too good
at what you do - you're going to make me and the company a lot of
money...not only that, but my brother has grown quite fond of you..."
I felt a glimmer of hope. My heart stopped racing. What is she getting at?
Dustin whispered something to his sister that made her laugh.
She looked at me and said, "Dusty tells me you're actually wearing
panties right now - I want to see for myself -- take off your clothes
and strip to your little girly-panties!!"
Oh my God, will the humiliation never end? What choice did I have
though? I tried to think of an alternative but quickly realized there
was none. She held all the power, and the videos would absolutely ruin
the rest of my life.
I was in a dream-like trance as my fingers began to unbutton my shirt.
When I finally lowered my slacks and Jennifer saw the panties, she burst
out laughing and said to Dustin, "You're right bro, he's not a real man
-- he's a sissy-boy!"
My heart ached - is that what Dustin thinks of me?
Jennifer said, "Clasp your hands together behind your head!"
I did as I was told.
She smiled and cooed, "Ooooo, nice touch, lil bro...he's hairless -- you make him shave, huh?" I like it!"
"His skin is softer and smoother than any girl I've ever known," said Dustin. He then stood and came to me.
He was behind me, caressing and stroking my chest and belly. When he
fondled my breasts and pinched my nipples into hard little points I
sprung a boner inside the panties. My face flushed a deep burgundy. I
couldn't look Jennifer in the eyes.
"My God bro, you're right -- he loves wearing panties, doesn't he? He
really is a sissy!" remarked Jennifer. "Show me his tiny dick -- is it
really as small as I remember it is?"
Noooo, pleeezzzzzz, nooooo...
Dustin's hands pushed the panties down to mid-thigh. My hard-on pointing
straight out -- my hairless balls dangling below. My humiliation was
complete.
My heart was broken. How could Dustin betray me like this? I thought we had something special between us.
I blinked away tears as I stared at the woman. She wore an expression of such contempt for me, I looked away from her again.
""Look at me, you needle-dick prick!!" commanded Jennifer. Suddenly, she held up her cell phone and began snapping photos of me.
Noooo, oh my God...
She laughed and said, "I just might send these to your co-workers and
show them what a sissy, fairy-boy they've been working with all these
years."
I groaned, "Please don't do that..."
The smile disappeared from her face. She stared at me in earnest.
"You know what, sissy-boy, I'm going to give you a chance to redeem
yourself...listen to my offer and decide for yourself whether to accept
it or not?"
A glimmer of hope. "Yes, sure, of course -- whatever you want!"
"Don't be too eager, sissy-boy, until you hear what I have to say!"
"Oh, okay, yes Jennifer."
"First off, in public, you'll address me as 'Miss Jennifer'...but when
we're alone together or in a private setting like this I expect to hear
'Mistress Jennifer' -- you understand me, sissy-boy?"
Sure, no problem. "Yes, M-Mistress Jennifer."
"There won't be too many changes here at work...you're my highest producing consultant and I expect that to stay the same..."
"Of course...uh, yes Mistress Jennifer."
"Good boy...the most important thing you'll need to remember at all
times is that I own you now...you are my property -- you belong to me
and I expect, no, I demand total obedience from you...if you disappoint
me you'll be punished...if you disobey me I will fire your sissy-ass and
post every video of you online...your family and friends will disown
you - you'll never work in this field again...understand me, sissy-boy?"
Whoa, she wants me to agree to become her slave!
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SISSY-BOY?"
What else could I possibly say? "Y-Yes, M-Mistress Jennifer, I understand."
"From now on, you'll receive half of your commissions -- Dusty and I will split the other half..."
HUH? WHAT? NO WAY!!
She added: "Isn't half the money better than none at all?"
Noooooo..."Yes, Mistress Jennifer."
She continued telling me how I would be living my life from now on but I
wasn't really listening to her. All I heard was how my freedom and
independence would be gone -- how Dustin was going to live with me while
I paid his way through college...I would be his 'sissy-bitch' at home
-- and I'd belong to her while at work.
And then a strange thing happened: the more threats of exposure she
made, the more relaxed I became. By the time she finished her tirade, I
was not only totally at ease with myself, but also looking forward to a
future I'd never dreamed would be possible.
I almost thanked her for forcing me into making such a life-changing decision.
ONE YEAR LATER
The ringtone on my phone woke me up. It is the old Olivia Newton John
song, "Let's Get Physical" and I immediately thought it was time to
change it.
"Hi, mom," I said into the phone.
"Happy Anniversary, sweetheart!" she said in her bubbly, upbeat voice.
I momentarily wondered what she was referring to, but suddenly
remembered it had been exactly one year since that fateful day in
Jennifer's office.
"Your dad just bought the airline tickets for our trip out there next
month. Are you sure you can still get time-off of work, dear?" she
asked.
I wanted to say 'Of course, mom, I'm sleeping with the boss' but instead
replied, "Everything is all set -- Mister Andrews is giving me the
whole week off."
"That's wonderful, dear. We've never been to San Francisco, we're looking forward to you showing us all the sights," she said.
"We're going to have a great time. I can't wait to see you guys," I said.
"Bye-bye, dear, you take care of yourself, okay?"
"Absolutely, mom, good bye, say hi to dad for me!"
"Will do, sweetheart...talk to you next week, okay? Love you..."
"Love you too, mom!"
***
Wow, it's been a whole year, huh? I smiled as I thought: 'Time really does fly when you're having fun!'
Speaking of time, I saw it was only 7:30am and decided to go back to
bed. Mom has never figured out the two-hour time difference between here
and Minnesota and calls very early.
She means well. Her and dad have been so supportive since that day a
year ago when I came out and told them I am gay. It troubled me for
awhile that they weren't at all upset, in fact, it kind of hurt when she
said, "Yes, we know you're gay dear, why are you telling us now?"
Oh, the things we put ourselves through for no reason at all.
I could hear Jeffy's rhythmical breathing as he slept. The cute little
guy was naked on his stomach and when I pulled back the bedspread and
saw his beautiful bubble-butt I had to fight the urge to push his legs
apart and mount him doggy-style.
Yes, some things have changed over the past year. From time-to-time when
I meet cute little boys like Jeffy, I love playing the dominant top. I
am quite versatile now when it comes to sex.
The first six-months or so living in San Francisco I was a total bottom.
A slut, really. When I came out and moved here, I went overboard trying
to catch up on missed opportunities. It is no exaggeration when I say I
slept with 5-6-7 different guys a week. I thought I had to make up for
lost time.
It wasn't until Mister Andrews hired me at The Club that I was able to
relax. He taught me the virtues of patience and moderation. Just because
I enjoy making handsome men happy, doesn't mean I have to throw myself
at every swinging dick I meet.
"Nobody is keeping score," he said to me. "It's quality -- not quantity.
You are not competing with other queers -- there is no trophy for
sucking more dicks than anyone else!"
Too bad, I thought, I believe I would have won that trophy -- heh-heh-heh...
When I crawled next to Jeffy on the bed I pulled him close. I love the
feel of his soft, unblemished flesh against mine. I caressed his
smoothness; I was stroking the soft mounds of his buttocks when I sprung
a boner.
I chuckled to myself and gently, but firmly nudged him until he was
awake. I kissed his soft lips and guided his hand to my erection.
"You're not doing your job, boy," I said to him. "I should give you a spanking!"
That brought him fully awake.
"OH -- I'm sorry, daddy -- please forgive me , daddy!" he said panicked as he scrambled to his knees between my wide-split legs.
A small hand grasped the base of my hard cock; the other cradled my
balls. I watched the cute little guy wet his lips then slide them over
my glans. His tongue never left my hot flesh. I watched his head bobbing
up-and-down for a minute or so before I closed my eyes, laid back and
greedily accepted the pleasure his wonderful mouth was bringing me.
***
I had enough time to enjoy a long bubble bath before work. My mind said 'One year anniversary, huh?'
I could clearly see Jennifer's face, contorted with rage, spitting
threats at me. Calling me a sissy-fagboy -- how the whole world will
know what I really am -- how my life will be ruined if I don't do
everything she tells me...all the while I stood there with a bemused
grin on my face -- it infuriated her so much she ordered me to give
Dustin my leather belt and to lay across his lap so he could spank me
with it.
"That's not going to happen," I calmly said to her. I pointed to the
huge television on the far wall and said, "Turn on channel 99."
She hesitated. "What are you talking about?"
"Turn to channel 99," I repeated.
Her eyes narrowed as she picked up the remote and changed the
television. Channel 99 was the inter-company channel used for
teleconferences and communications from the corporate office.
Her eyes bugged wide when she saw the three of us on the monitor. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" she screamed at me.
I pointed at three cameras around the room and said, "I guess you could
call this my 'coming-out party'...I already told my family that I'm
gay...and, I emailed corporate my resignation...there isn't anything you
can say or do to me and I have a feeling that your bosses are not going
to like what they've seen here today..." I said to the purple-faced
woman.
Corporate settled my lawsuit out-of-court, quickly and very quietly.
***
Little Jeffy drove his own car to The Club. I try to be as discreet as
possible when I'm boinking an employee. All of my affairs have been
consensual -- I wasn't going to make the same mistake Jennifer made with
me.
I arrived in time for the three o'clock 'Lineup'. Four bartenders and
eight waiters standing next to each other with their hands clasped
together behind their heads waiting my inspection of them.
The Club has strict uniform and hygiene standards. I hire cute and
sometimes very pretty servers. They must keep their bodies hair-free, so
I examine each one closely every day.
The servers all wear translucent, lime-green panties and matching
lime-green negligees. When they lineup I say, "Lower your panties,
boys!" and I go to each one and carefully run my hands over their
underarms, thighs and legs.
Little Jeffy happened to be first in line. I run my hands on his armpits
-- he is very ticklish so he starts to giggle and squirm under my
caresses. It is not unusual for the boys to spring boners when I search
their ball sacs for hair and Jeffy is no exception. I inwardly smile to
myself when his little dicky stiffens. It is so cute I'd like to linger
and stroke it for him but I remain professional while examining him and
every one of the boys.
By the time I examine the last server, I look down the line at all eight
of them, and if I have done my job satisfactorily, I will see eight
erections jutting straight out from their hairless crotches.
"Raise your panties, and go to work, boys!" I say when finished with them.
Next comes the four bartenders. They are handsome with sculpted chests
and muscled arms. They all wear black, speedo briefs and open, black
leather vests. They are allowed small patches of underarm hair, but they
must shave their legs and chests. Since the speedo covers their
crotches, neatly groomed pubic hair is allowed.
Lastly come my four dancers. As far as I am concerned, they have the
hardest jobs in The Club. While they are working in their cages, 15-feet
above the floor, they must dance to every song, all night long. It is
imperative their bodies are totally hairless and well-oiled. Their only
cover are tiny and tight white jockstraps. When they are dancing,
grinding and gyrating their oiled hips and buttocks, they are the most
erotic sight of any of my scantily clad boys.
Oh, and one other thing -- twice a night they are required to lower
their jockstraps and masturbate while they're dancing. I know, I don't
understand how that is legal too...I guess we have good lawyers. Anyway,
when they're dancing and pumping their cocks, you should see the subs
dancing below them on the floor, all looking up watching, waiting to
open their mouths to try and catch a taste of their cum. Oh my hell...
Now I don't take advantage of any of my boys, but when I am finished
with the 'Lineup' I am sooo horny my latest hire follows me to my
office, drops to his knees and sucks me off. It is in his contract -- he
readily agreed to perform this service whenever instructed.
It just so happens, Dusty was my last hire -- yes, THAT Dustin! He
somehow found my email address and begged me to hire him. He said he
wanted to start a new life in San Francisco and make it up to me.
I admit, I had some hard feelings about seeing him again, but everything has worked out well.
Besides, I'll always love and adore his cock. Every night after work he
comes to my office, yanks down my lime-green panties and forces me to
bend over my own desk and uses my boypussy until I
cum-and-cum-and-cum...
How did this happen to me? Just lucky, I guess.

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