Getting Wet

By bootboy

bootboyDon’t really know how I ended up where I did. Sometimes I think i’m crazy to stay here, and other times I think i’m just where I should be. I didn’t plan this: I just sort of slid into it. Not even sure how much further into slavery I can slide. Maybe tomorrow i’ll decide to call it quits, but I might just decide to stay put and ride it out. Kind of surprised how far i’ve gone. It just didn’t happen by accident though, I think it’s a bit like a storm. You can sense that one is approaching, seeing the clouds gathering and all, and you can either head inside and batten down the hatches or you can stay out in the thick of it. I guess I don’t know enough to come in out of the rain but I like splashing around and getting wet.

If anyone looked in through the window and saw me here; shaved from head to toe, my hands locked behind my back with wrist restraints, collared and hitched to the post of a loft bed, i’m sure that they would think I was crazy. But when I look out and see how most people live, to me, they are the ones who seem crazy: or worse.

It didn’t start out this way. Maybe by summer it will all be over. Can’t really say. In the fall I could sense that something was coming. Back then we were just Dan, Mark and me. I had seen Dan a few times but I usually chickened out going up to him. Once I saw him walking down Christopher Street, and said hi, but he just ignored me. Dan’s a good-looking guy, early thirties, tall and lean with curly black hair and blue eyes. And he has an attitude, or maybe it’s arrogance. But that’s probably what attracted me to him. That and the fact I never saw him wearing anything but boots, jeans and T-shirts, and always his leather jacket.

He’s a bartender at the Eagle, but a lot of times when I ended up there, he wasn’t working or it was really busy. I usually started out my night in the East Village and bar hopped west until I ended up at the Spike and had a last beer at the Eagle before heading back home. I didn’t know a lot of guys into leather, but I wasn’t all that innocent either — not really a full member of the brotherhood. I guess now i’ve taken my final vows of obedience to the order.

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Photo by Kim Hansen

Last September I left the Eagle and went to J’s instead of going back home. When I got there, I saw that Dan and Mark were sitting up on the ledge in the back, looking fine. They were in full leather; tall black biker boots, chaps, tank tops, leather jackets and black leather caps. Dan was looking his usual scruffy self, and Mark was chatting with some guy sitting next to them. I walked over and planted myself next to Dan. After about ten minuets, the other guy left and Mark said he was going to get a beer. I had brought a six-pack with me so I turned around and asked if I could get them one. Mark said OK and so I went to the bar and got us all beers. When I had just about finished, mine, Mark said he was going to the bathroom to take a leak. Dan told him to wait a second and he would go with him. I turned around and looked straight at Dan’s crotch and said, “I can take care of that for you here if you guys want.”

I don’t know why I said it since I had only drunk one guy’s piss before, but I guess I figured that it was the only way to get Dan to take me seriously. And I was a little drunk. Mark said OK, and I unzipped his jeans and took his dick in my mouth and right away he started pissing. I managed to swallow it all and thought that it was pretty easy, drinking straight from the tap.

When I was sure that Mark was done I moved on to Dan. I undid his jeans and went down on him. He was sort of hard and it took him a while before he started to piss; but when he got going, he really pissed. I had a really hard time keeping up, and I just kept swallowing as fast as he was filling me up, but some of it dribbled down my chin. I somehow managed to drink it all, probably because it was mostly beer piss. When he was done, I buttoned his jeans back up and he pulled me around and I stayed there, standing between his legs for the rest of the night.

A few guys came up to Dan and Mark to say hello, but I just kept silent. Most of the time Dan had his fingers in my mouth. Finally Dan told Mark it was time to go and I followed them toward the door. When Dan got to the bar, he stopped, wrote down his number on a card and told me to call him. It was the first time Dan had spoken to me all night, or even looked at me. I was kind of pissed since I was expecting to go home with them. The next day I threw away the number.

Two weeks later I found myself back at the Eagle. It was really busy and when I went up to the side of the bar where Dan was working to get a beer, but he just ignored me. I waited until it was last call and the bar was almost empty and asked Dan for a beer. He banged the beer down and it foamed up out of the top. “You were supposed to call me,” he said.

“Sorry, I lost your number,” I lied.

“Just as well. It was Mark’s birthday and I was going to put you inside a shipping carton and give you to him as a present. He was sort of taken by you. But don’t think I want him to be interested in a boy.”

I stayed till closing and told Dan I was going to J’s. I hoped that i’d see him there and about an hour later he walked in. By then I was drunk and just sat by the pool table hoping that he would come over. He talked with friends for about an hour and finally he just walked over to me and told me that we were leaving. He didn’t wait for a response so I just followed him out of J’s and got into a cab with him. He took me back to a room he rented east of Union Square where he slept when he didn’t feel like going back to Brooklyn. He had me give him a blow job and eventually we passed out. When I woke up, Dan was gone and I had a hang over. At first I felt disappointed, since I had been hoping for something more than just giving Dan a blow job. I went to get up and put my feet on the floor and there was a loud crash.

I was shackled with metal cuffs locked on my wrists and ankles with a heavy chain, which had fallen on the floor. I didn’t remember those, but I was kind of sore. A few days later I had vague recollections of having a needle though my nipple so I guess my first time with Dan was more interesting then I first thought. I raided the fridge and poked around the room, which was a mess, trying not to make too much noise when the chains dragged across the floor.

When it started to get dark, the door opened, and Dan came in followed by Mark. He looked pretty surprised to see me, standing there naked in chains. “A late birthday present,” Dan said, laughing. “Well, get working boy!” he said to me. So I got down on my knees and started sucking Mark off. I think Dan enjoyed watching his boyfriend getting a blow job and he started jacking off. Once he got hard, he came around behind me and shoved his dick up my hole really hard and began fucking me. I had a ruff time keeping my balance, but Dan kept a hold of me and Mark had me by the ears while he fucked my face.

Mark has a nice fat dick, and pretty soon my face was wet with spit, and when his dick slid out of my mouth, Dan slapped my face from behind. I tied to pull away a little from Dan, since he was fucking me rough, and he grabbed my balls and pulled me back twisting them pretty good. It was hard to decide which way to go, keep getting slammed by Dan’s cock, or have my balls pulled to the ground. I really wanted to start jacking myself off, but Dan had my arms pulled behind my back, and was holding onto the chain. I was sure that if I had tried, Dan would have twisted my dick off.

Both Dan and Mark came at the same time, one final push from both ends, and then being dropped to the floor with cum spilling out of my mouth. All three of us crashed for about an hour, Dan and Mark curled up in the bed and me still in chains on the floor using Dan’s boots for a pillow and his leather jacket as a blanket. Around ten we got up and Dan undid the locks on the metal cuffs with a key he kept on a chain he wore on his jeans, and we went to a diner and ate.

Dan had to go to the Eagle to work and so Mark and I went to the Spike. There wasn’t anyone there and so we talked. We hit it off and I hoped that we would become friends. Mark is a really good-looking guy. He has a great body, not as tall as Dan, but hairless and with milk white skin. He’s in his late twenties with close-cropped red brown hair and green eyes. When I finally got back to my apartment, I was pretty wrecked; I stank kind of bad and was really sore – all over!

Next Friday I went to the Spike and Mark was there and we had a few beers. Around three, we headed to the Eagle and saw Dan who told us to go to J’s and he’d meet us there. We stayed for an hour or so while Dan hung out with the other bartenders. We left, went to a diner and then back to Brooklyn to their apartment. Dan fucked me while I sucked off Mark. They both kept their clothes on and just had me undo their flies and pull out their dicks. Dan had Mark strip me while I licked his boots. Neither of them paid much attention to me, other than to push me onto their cocks. Mark was sitting in a chair, and I was naked, on all fours with Dan putting his whole weight into me while fucking me from behind.

Dan managed to lean forward and make-out with Mark while he shoved my head down between Mark’s legs. When they had both cum, they had me pull off their boots, chaps and jeans, and then they climbed up into their loft bed, Mark tossed down a blanket for me, and I used their boots as a pillow. We got up around two, sat around watching movies and then went back in the city. Sunday evening I left Brooklyn and went back to my apartment. It became the routine almost every weekend. Monday mornings were harsh. And sometimes my hole was hurting till Tuesday. I spent every weekend with Dan and Mark, getting fucked from both ends. I was a lucky boy.

During December I was really busy with work and didn’t see Dan and Mark very much, but after the New Year I returned to the fold. Dan liked to have Mark clean me out for fucking, and they hooked up a water bottle and hose above the toilet. The first weekend back, when Mark was filling me up and I was bent over, he decided my ass was too hairy — so he shaved it. I also think he did it to piss Dan off, because Dan didn’t like it if Mark did something without asking him.

When Mark showed Dan my clean shaved ass, he said it looked stupid to have a hairless ass but hairy legs and a shaggy head of hair and told Mark to fix it. Mark spent the rest of the afternoon getting rid of every hair on my body other than my eyebrows.

Since then, Mark has kept me that way. Every Friday, he has me shower and gets out the razors and starts shaving at the top of my head and works his way down to my ankles. I think my roommates thought it was a little weird, but they didn’t say anything. My boss did, but he got over my shaved head. Being completely shaved smooth was a great feeling.  I felt totally nude. Even at work I could feel that I was hairless, and felt that there was a part of me that never left being a part of Dan and Mark’s world.

The next Friday, we were getting ready to go: Dan and Mark were putting on their chaps and I was putting on my jeans and boots, when Mark said that he thought I needed a collar and leash. He said he wanted to take me to the Spike collared. I think it was so that guys there would think he was a top because most people know him as Dan’s boyfriend and knew what Dan was like. Dan will fuck anything with a hole. I don’t think I have ever seen him jack-off, not in a year. Every time he cums it’s in some guy’s mouth or up some boy’s hole. I don’t think that Dan believes in jacking-off, not when there is always some guy around waiting to take his dick, plus, I don’t think he likes to see good cum going to waste. Anyway, Dan said that he didn’t know where the collar had gone to, and he didn’t want to spend money buying any new leather gear. I think that he just didn’t want Mark taking me out on a leash at the Spike while he was next door bartending at the Eagle. Mark dropped it.

The last weekend in January I left work to spend the weekend with Dan and Mark. The routine was pretty set by then. While we were getting ready to head into Manhattan, Mark gave me a box and told me to open it up. Inside were brushes and shoe polish and rags. Mark told me that Dan’s boots needed a good shine before we left. I got to work on them and when I gave them to Dan I told him that I thought I did a pretty good job. They were really old and beaten up biker boots but I got them to shine. Dan said “not bad, but I think that you could use a lot more practice.” And he and Mark laughed. When we got into the city, we didn’t go the Spike but a new leather bar that had opened up. Dan told me to go in with Mark and that he’d see us later.

We went in and Mark introduced me to the manager who was a friend of Dan’s. “Are you ready to get to work?” he asked. I didn’t know what to say, but Mark said I was and handed me his backpack. “Well let’s get you all set up. Here’s the bootblack stand. Did you bring brushes and polish?” I looked in the backpack and saw that I had. i’d never bootblacked before but I guess i’m kind of a natural. It helps to be into boots. It’s hard to explain, but there is something about boots that really gets me going, tall black shiny motorcycle cop boots, old cum and piss covered boots, combat boots, Wescos, twenty-eye Gripfast, tall steal toe doc martins cherries, just about anything but cowboy boots.

There is just something about men’s boots, getting them to shine and putting my hands on them and feeling the feet of some hot guy. And for some reason, I just want to get down on my knees and start licking the boots of some guys, the ones who think that they were born to have boys crawling on the ground in hopes of being allowed the privilege of licking the dirt off their boots. Most of the men whose boots I polished thought I did a decent job and gave me a pat on the head.

Around two in the morning the bar was pretty empty, and Mark showed up to take me to the Eagle. He asked how it went and I said it went great. “I even made fifty bucks!” “Make sure to show the money to Dan.  He’ll be proud of you.,” Mark said. When we got to the Eagle, I did just that. I pulled out the wad of bills and showed Dan and said that I must have done a pretty good job and had a good time as well.

Before I had finished, Dan reached over and took the money out of my hand and slowly and deliberately took out his wallet and put the bills in it and then put the wallet back in his pants. I was stunned but I didn’t say anything, but Dan could tell I was annoyed. Dan reached over the bar and grabbed me by the chin and pulled my face into his and said, “just make sure you bring me seventy-five bucks tomorrow night boy!”

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Photo by Kim Hansen

I was surprised. i’d never seen Dan be that harsh before; he usually smirked when he talked and was quite sarcastic. I was sure he meant what he said and I had sensed that Dan wasn’t someone to cross, but now I was sure. None of us mentioned it for the rest of the night. Saturday night Mark and I headed over to the new bar and he helped me get set up at the bootblack stand. The bar got much more crowed than the night before. From about midnight until three I was busy nonstop. Some guys wanted a big show and liked sitting up in the bootblack chair where you can see out over the whole bar. Other guys just wanted a shine, and some were pretty particular with how I polished their boots. And a few guys were really obsessed about how their laces were done up. I realized a lot of enthusiasm went a long way. By the time Mark showed up, I had a pretty big wad of cash in my pocket and my hands were covered with black polish, and my T-shirt was too.

When I counted it, I had eighty bucks.

When we got to the Eagle, it was right before closing and Dan was waiting. I handed him his money and he took it and counted it slowly. He handed me back five bucks and said, “This is your cut boy, make sure you don’t disappoint me next week.”

Then he slapped me across the face, hard enough to make sure I understood that I should not disappoint him. It stung pretty good and my face got really red. He had never seriously hit me. A lot of times he got my ass really red, but this was different and it was in the middle of the bar with all the other bartenders watching.

So far I haven’t disappointed him; Every Friday and Saturday i’ve handed over his seventy-five bucks. One week I only made fifty, so I put in twenty-five of my own. After the third week of bootblacking, Dan put a brand-new leather collar on me. He didn’t ask, or say anything when he put it on my neck. He just had it on the table and before heading into the city, he grabbed me by sticking his fingers in my mouth and pulled me to him and attached the collar and locked it on. Guess Dan didn’t really need to say anything, it was just something we both understood. A new pair of wrist restraints with locks appeared later. Dan has a few new keys on his chain. I suppose I could break the locks and take them off if I wanted to, but since Dan locked on the collar and cuffs on me, they have never come off. Maybe they never will, and now i’m so used to them, I can’t imagine not being able to wear them.

Mark also got me a new pair of combat boots since the old ones had holes in the bottom and my feet were always getting wet. I noticed that Dan and Mark have new boots too. And Mark finally got the leash; he seems to like it more than Dan or I do. Mark likes to take me to the Eagle on the leash, but i’m sure most guys still know that he’s Dan’s boy and what Dan likes to do with his boys.

I don’t know if my bootblacking paid for the last thing I got or not and I guess all that really matters is that Dan decided I should have one. A few weeks ago, Dan took me with him into Manhattan on his way into the Eagle during the week. We went to his room off Union Square. He told me to clean it up. It was really a mess and there were dirty clothes all over the place. Dan said he’d be back when he got off work. I got all the dirty underwear, jeans and T-shirts together and went to a laundromat that was open late down the street. When I had finished that, I started cleaning, and by four in the morning I was about done. The bathroom was a pit and I took me a long time to clean the toilet and the floor.

Dan got back around five and looked around. “Not bad, but it’s just going to get dirty again.” I said that I could keep it clean and so he pulled down his pants and started pissing, standing there in the middle of the room. “Guess you’ll have to start cleaning then boy.” Most of the piss landed on me. “Or you could just start drinking and save yourself the trouble.” So I got down on my knees as fast as I could and got his dick in my mouth and drank the rest, but by then, both my jeans and T-shirt were soaked and the floor was wet. When Dan was done, he said, “Well, clean it up!” I figured my shirt was already wet, so I cleaned up the piss with it and hung it up to dry. Dan pisses on my jeans sometimes when we walk to J’s so they’re usually a little wet.

Dan sat down on the edge of the bed and told me to come over and take off his boots and socks. He let me sniff the socks and had me pull off his jeans. He grabbed me by the collar and shoved my head down on his cock and handed me some lube and told me to grease up my hole while I sucked on his dick. When he was good and hard, he spun me around and pushed me down on his dick and had me ride it. Whenever Dan is tired, he likes to lie back on the edge of the bed and have me do all the work. If I don’t go all the way down on him, he kicks my foot so I lose my balance and fall and get impaled on his cock: but I like the feeling of having Dan’s cock deep inside me. After he had cum, he pulled me up to him, and I got to sleep in the bed with Dan. Well, for an hour, then he tossed me off onto the floor.

The next day, when we were crossing Fifth Avenue on our way to Chelsea, Dan took me to the Gauntlet. When we got up the stairs, Dan told me to go sit in one of the chairs in the rear of the store. He came back a few minutes later and stood behind me putting one hand over my eyes and one hand over my mouth. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “When I take my hand off your mouth, breathe in and then breathe out – and don’t move.”

When I breathed in, I felt the needle going in my right nipple and then the ring being threaded through. Dan told me to sit there for a moment. “Well, it’s a start, think he needs a few more,” he said to the guy who pierced my tit. i’m not sure what he has in mind, but I know that he and Mark have been trying to figure out a way to make sure that I can’t jack-off, putting in a PA and attaching it to a ring through my scrotum. I went to put my shirt back on, which had finally dried off, but Dan handed me a new white tank top with a large black “S” on the front of it.

On the way out I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The tank top was really small and it fit tight, so you could easily see my new nipple ring. I liked how it looked, especially being shaved and wearing a collar and cuffs. The first time I went out wearing Dan’s collar, I was uptight about it, and the first time I saw a friend of mine staring at me one night at J’s when I was sitting on the floor in front of Dan, with his legs across my shoulders and his boots resting on my crotch, I had a moment of panic. Now I don’t care, I think I look how I should look, how I was meant to look. Now I look at the faces of guys who recognize themselves in me but run away when it gets too real or too extreme for them. Mostly I like how I look walking behind Dan for everyone to see.

The first week in February, the restaurant I was working in got new owners. At the end of the week, we all got called together and handed an envelope with two-hundred bucks and then fired. It was an OK place to work.  Good staff and the money wasn’t bad. It was in midtown and the customers were all businessmen and so I just worked during the week and had the weekends off to go to Dan and Mark’s. I didn’t have much money saved, and at least I didn’t pay a lot of rent since I was living with two other guys in Hoboken. They got worried when I told them I was out of a job. I really didn’t want to look for another one and kept putting it off.

I started staying at Dan and Mark’s more and more. The weekends went from Thursday till Tuesday and then till Wednesday. By March, I was just going back to grab a few things and then leaving. Since April, I haven’t been back to Hoboken at all. All of my stuff is there and I sent a note to my roommates to keep it for me and they could have the few hundred dollars that were in my shoe. They didn’t really want to know what I was up to when I came home shaved. When I started wearing a collar awhile back, I could tell that neither of them really wanted to know where I was going. I hope my stuff is still there, but i’m not really worried about it.

All I have with me are my boots, my leather jacket, and my jeans, which are sort of tattered and filthy now. But that’s all I need. The one ratty pair of boxers I had disappeared while back. Considering I don’t wear anything when i’m here, but my collar and wrist cuffs, it’s not a problem. When I get dressed to bootblack, I steal a pair of Mark’s socks and sometimes one of his T-shirts, but most of the time Mark takes the T-shirt back so I work shirtless. I found some braces someone left at the bar I wear to help hold up my jeans.

For the first few weeks I lived with Dan and Mark, I never considered myself a slave; mostly because I never really thought about it and also because it gradually happened without any discussion. Dan and Mark were just friends that I hung out with and I just figured I was staying with them until I got a new job that I didn’t seem to be looking for but somehow imagined I would find. Since Mark was at work all week and Dan was home most of the day, I started doing all the cleaning and laundry. Mark gradually stopped doing anything around the apartment and Dan is really messy and it takes me a lot of time to pick up after him. He keeps me pretty busy during the day. Mark wakes me up before he leaves so I can make Dan’s breakfast and have it ready for him when he gets up. I make lunch for him too and am there if he needs anything. If not, I usually wait under the bed. When Mark comes back, he sends me out to the store and then I clean up after dinner. The apartment has never been so clean. But for the most part we were still Dan, Mark and me.

Until a month ago. That was when I realized that everything had changed. There used to be three chairs around the kitchen table and all of us ate there together. Usually Mark cooked, but sometimes Dan would cook and make a huge mess in the kitchen and send me to the store several times to get something he forgot to tell me to get earlier. Dan put a hot pan on one of the chairs and it burned the seat, so he threw it out. I didn’t want to say anything so for the next two days I ate standing over the sink. Then the next night I came into the kitchen and Dan and Mark were sitting at the table eating by themselves. I asked where my plate was and Dan said I didn’t get one. I said “Come on, don’t I get any, i’m hungry.”

Dan got up from the table and got out an old metal bowl and dumped what was left from the pot into it and put it on the floor and said if I wanted some, there it was. I made the mistake of saying “yea right.” Dan grabbed me by the collar and pulled me across the kitchen and shoved my head down toward the bowl. “There you go Sparky, eat up.”

Since then i’ve become Sparky. No one calls me anything but Sparky now, even the other bartenders and all the guys I work with bootblacking. I don’t know how they know to call me that, but somehow they all do. I don’t really answer to anything else any more. Now I wait on Dan and Mark during dinner, and when they’re done eating, they put what’s left in my bowl, and they leave the kitchen and I clean up and eat my food out of the bowl on the floor.

Other things have changed as well. We used to rent movies and watch them together during the week. Dan, during one movie, pulled me around and shoved my head in his crotch saying “This is all you need to watch boy.” When Dan and Mark left and I was alone in the apartment I was free to do what I wanted. Now when they leave, they usually attach my collar to the post of their loft bed. Or sometimes to the pipe next to the toilet. At first, it was just hooked. But now, Dan uses a chain and a Master lock. And before he leaves, Dan pulls my hands behind my back and puts another lock through the wrist cuffs.

These days, his chain is full of keys. Mark likes to make sure to put a butt plug up my hole, and recently insists that i’m plugged when I bootblack. Also, Dan doesn’t really ever talk to me. Back in the fall we used to talk a lot. Now he just tells me or tells Mark what he wants me to do or just says “Sparky – here boy,” and points or snaps his fingers. I also make the mistake of taking the last beer from the fridge, so now Mark keeps my bowl full of water and no more beer, and I only get the left-overs they put in my bowl.

Last month I was in the shower when Dan wanted to use it, so he kicked me out and had me stand there wet, holding a towel for him. He told Mark to wash me in the tub before my weekly shave down. Mark uses a big sponge and rinses me off with cold water. Sometimes when I go out toward the end of the week, i’m pretty sure I must stink, but i’m not sure if it’s my jeans or me. Either way, I like the smell.

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Photo by Kim Hansen

Mark and I have a good understanding. For a while, I thought that he hated having me around, but I think that he and Dan get along better with me here. Mark can’t understand how I can be happy being Dan’s slave, and I can’t understand how he can stand being Dan’s boyfriend. With me around, I think it’s easier on Mark and he and Dan good friends now. Dan is demanding and intense, and I think guys like that are better off having a boyfriend and a slave. It works for everyone. I know that before Dan speaks, I will do whatever he asks, so I don’t have to think about it. And since Dan has a slave who obeys every order, he and Mark can be partners. Also, I don’t think that Mark really liked getting fucked by Dan all the time. And since Dan likes to fuck boy hole every day, I think Mark is glad i’m around to take Dan’s cock so he doesn’t have to.

Since March, the new routine has become normal. I still bootblack Friday and Saturday and hand over the cash to my Master. We usually go to J’s before we go back to Brooklyn. My Master sits in a chair with me on the ground, sitting at his feet. Mark usually wanders around taking to friends.

One night, this old guy was sitting next to my Master and started talking to him. “Nice boy you got there.” Dan just nodded but didn’t say anything. “Looks like a good cocksucker.” “Not bad,” Dan said. “Like to watch him sometime.” Dan laughed. The old guy said, “No really, like to watch your boy sucking your cock.” And pulled forty bucks out of his wallet. “What do you say?” Dan pulled me up to his crotch and I undid his jeans and took his dick into my mouth.

My Master has a really nice dick and I spend a lot of time with it down my throat and up my ass. I know just how he likes to be sucked. At first, he wasn’t really into it but I know how to get him hard and I put on a good show. He started to get into it and grabbed the back of my head and really started fucking my face, harder than he ever had. I felt like I might gag but I didn’t want to piss him off, especially now that he was showing off what his boy could do. He came pretty quickly and a lot. I looked up at him when I was putting his cock back in his jeans and he flashed me sort of a smile. The old guy was jacking off and shot his load on my jeans. He handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “Hey, I thought it was forty!” Dan said. “It is, twenty for you, twenty for the boy, I think he earned it. Don’t you?” And the old guy handed me a twenty.

I didn’t know what to do and my Master gave me a really nasty look, so I just shoved it in my jeans. Mark came back and my Master said it was time to go. He was silent the whole way home.

Saturday night was slow bootblacking, and Mark came by early to take me to the Eagle. I only had made sixty bucks so I added the twenty from the night before. When we got to the Eagle, my Master said that we were going to a party at some friend’s place and he’d meet us there later. Mark and I and these two leather guys in their fifties, who were regulars at the bars for decades, went to get a taxi. One of the guys got in and I got in the middle and then the other one and we left. I asked why Mark didn’t get in and they said that “he would meet us later, much later,” laughing.

When we got up to their apartment there was nobody there. One of the guys handed me a piece of paper and I opened it. “You owe me $20! Do whatever they say. I don’t want to hear that you weren’t a good boy.” They got right to business. I licked one guy’s boots while his partner set up a sling. They were both big guys. One had a beard and mustache and was hairy; the other was a little shorter with a buzz cut with a solid build. I never saw them without a cigar, or in full leather.

They spent most of the night taking turns fucking me and shoving their dicks down my throat. It’s not that the sex was bad, just sort of mechanical and I let my mind wander. When they had both cum, they inserted a butt plug and they attached it to harness belt that kept it from coming out. The front had a hole to pull my cock and balls through with a really thick ball stretcher and a strap that went around my cock so I couldn’t touch myself. They turned out the light, leaving me alone in the dark, still in the sling with my boots tied to the chain and my wrist cuffs hooked together and to the belt.

Eventually I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until the morning when one of the guys put his dick in my mouth to piss. It was nasty and I gagged on it, but he held my head and I drank most of it. Then he had me suck him off. It took me awhile to get him to cum, but I actually got into it. Then they unhooked me from the sling and told me to put on my jeans and jacket, keeping the butt plug and harness on.

We went to the Chelsea Diner which was packed with Chelsea guys showing off who they had picked up the night before. They made a big show of pulling me into a booth by my collar and ordering for “their boy.” By that time, the butt-plug was staring to hurt. We went back to the apartment and as soon as we got in, I was told to strip. The taller guy undid the harness and told me to grab my ankles. He stood behind me and with one hand grabbed me by my balls, and with the other hand got a hold of the plug and with one tug, yanked it out of my ass. It made me fall over, since I wasn’t expecting the sharp pain of having it ripped out of my hole.

The shorter, beefier guy took me in the bathroom to clean me out. He was a pro and it felt nice, warm water and all. Better then Mark. They spent the rest of the afternoon entertaining themselves putting ever larger dildos up my ass. They had lined them up, from big to huge, next to a tub of crisco. There was a hook in the ceiling with a heavy metal chain that hung down almost to the ground. The taller one put cuffs on my ankles and attached the rings to the chain. He pulled my legs up high, with my ass in the air, leaving only my shoulders and head on the ground. Then he pulled my wrist cuffs and hooked them to my ankles.

When he had me strung up, the shorter guy took a thin rope and tied up my balls and pulled the rope tight through the chain. The older guy told the shorter guy to put a gag in my mouth to keep me quiet. Then they began to assault my ass. I have a really tight hole and i’m a small guy so they didn’t get very far at first. As encouragement to take the dildos, the bigger of the two used a ridding crop on my back, ass, thighs and the soles of my feet. It didn’t make it easier to take them up my hole, but they both seemed to be having a good time trying, caning me so hard that it left welts on my back for a few days. My feet got really swollen and it was hard to get my boots back on and it hurt to walk for a few days.

They also took turns twisting my tit ring and I was sure that they were going to pull it off. The shorter guy seemed to want to see how far he could stretch my balls by pulling on the rope. Neither of them spoke to me the whole afternoon. They were like machines, and didn’t let up for what seemed like many hours.

About when they were trying to use one of the monster ones, Mark showed up to take me home. He didn’t say anything, but I think that he felt a little sorry when he saw me all strung up, with those two big leathermen abusing me: hog tied, gaged and covered with sweat. And he could tell I was hurting at that point. I was glad to see him since I had no way of getting back. I don’t carry my wallet with me anymore, not really sure where it is now that I think about it, but i’m sure it’ll turn up. I don’t have keys to the apartment. If I need to go out to do laundry or run an errand there is a key on a leather string that they wrap around my balls, usually really tight. I think it’s to get me to be fast getting what i’m supposed to and bring it back in a hurry. I have to pull hard to get the key to reach the lock, standing up on my toes.

Neither of us spoke on the way back to Brooklyn. When we got back to the apartment, it was late Sunday night. Mark attached my collar to the post under the loft bed. I started to fall asleep when my Master came in and started kicking me with his boots, not hard, but I was already sore. “Don’t ever piss me off again.” He said and left. I fell right asleep. I don’t know how much my Master got for me, but I hope it was more then twenty bucks.

For the next week things were sort of quiet. My Master left me alone for a day or two, but then I think he was just horny, and Wednesday and fucked my hole twice. It took that long for my hole to lose that gapping feeling, after those guys stretched it so far open. My Master doesn’t make a big production of fucking me. He just bends me over and goes at it. If he thinks i’m not putting enough enthusiasm into it, he grabs my balls and starts to crush them and it gets my attention back to where it is supposed to be, my Master. When he cums, he just pulls out and shoves me away and usually goes and turns on the TV. When he went out Thursday night, Mark did the same, but not the same way. He is more gentle and that time he jacked me off while he fucked me. It’s really rare that I get to cum.

Since i’m not allowed to ever touch my own dick, for any reason, the only way I get to cum is if Dan tells Mark to jack me off, and I have to cum on command. If I don’t cum right when told to, Mark just leaves me hard and frustrated. I don’t know if Mark ever said that he fucked me and i’m not sure if my Master knows. When we are together, all that Mark gets is a blow job. But i’m not going to say anything. When my Master is away, he has me drink his piss. i’m not sure, but I don’t think that he’s supposed to. I don’t think my Master ever gets up to piss anymore, he just calls “Sparky, drink boy.” Once Mark had me drink his piss after my Master did when they were watching TV, and he got told to cut it out.

But all and all, things are pretty settled. By Friday, I was feeling fine and bootblacked. Saturday, the bar was packed and I think that I made a lot of cash, but I don’t really know since I didn’t count it. Maybe i’m getting better at shining boots, or maybe it’s because Mark and the bar manager bolted a hook to the bootblack stand, and when Mark gets me set up, he takes a big chain and runs it through my collar to the hook and locks it with a big Master lock.

The first night, I really had to piss and asked the bar manager to unhook me, but he said only Mark could do that, so I went in a beer bottle. Now, I just piss in my pants. In the past month, i’ve gotten so used to pissing in my jeans, I don’t really even think about it. Pissing in a toilet would seem strange to me now. It could also be that I think that Dan and Mark have somehow managed to rewire my brain. Something happens to me when I look at a pair of boots; I have an automatic need to shine them. i’m not allowed to look at my Master anymore, and when i’m taken out, I have to keep my head down, so the only way I know guys is by the boots they wear.

I also spend a lot of time at my Master’s boots. I usually have my head resting on one boot, while my Master puts his other boot on top of my face. For me, boots are where Masters and slaves meet. When I am lying on the floor, my Master’s boot is the highest part of me, but it is the lowest part of my Master. His boots are where I end and my Master begins. Either way, guys seem to be tipping well. When I handed the cash to my Master, he kept it all, telling Mark that “Sparky doesn’t get to have money anymore.”

Tomorrow, Mark is going to take me to the park to go running. Before I moved here I used to go running every day. I don’t know if i’m getting a little flabby, but my Master told Mark he needs to take me out for a run every day. Mark complained, but my Master said, “You’re the one who wanted to get a dog. You said that you’d be responsible and take care of him, so now you have to keep Sparky shaved, cleaned, keep water in his bowl, and now you have to take him out and let him run.”

Right now i’m just sitting here under the bed and I guess i’ve become a slave without realizing it. And as I said, I might leave tomorrow, but I doubt it. It just seems where I belong. Not sure how much further I can go, how much more of a slave, but I guess i’ll find out. i’m waiting for Mark to come and pick me up and take me into the city. i’m not sure where i’m going but I have a good idea. Yesterday, I heard my Master talking on the phone, and when he got off he told Mark to take me to this address this afternoon and pick me back up tomorrow.

“I don’t want to get rich renting Sparky out, but he has to earn his keep.” I thought I was but I guess not. I think that they want to put in that PA and the other ring to keep me from being able to jack-off or piss standing up. I also saw some drawings for some tattoos they want to get inked on me. But I really think that my Master wants to buy a new bike by summer. His old one died. It sounds good to me and i’m happy to contribute, as long as I get to go for a ride on the back of it with my Master. I think I know the guys who rented me because I saw them pointing at me when I was waiting for my Master at the Eagle, and he gave him his number. They didn’t seem too bad. At least I hope not, but I don’t really mind. It’s not for me to say who uses me anyway. Getting rented out a few times a month is a lot better than spending all week waiting tables for asshole businessmen – but not all that different.

You might see me out sometime, sitting at my Master’s boots, sitting on the sidewalk waiting for him to come out of a store, or bootblacking tethered to the bootblack stand. Or sometimes I might be right in front of you and you can’t see me. My Master cleaned out a spot under the bar at the Eagle where they used to store boxes. He keeps me there when i’m waiting for him to get off work. Sometimes, when he’s talking to some boring customer, he pulls out his cock. i’m never sure if he wants to piss or he wants me to suck on it. Either way, my mouth is always waiting, and he has a way of letting me know what he wants. So if you see me, say hello, or at least give me a pat on the head. And if you get caught in a storm, don’t run inside, but come out into the rain and let yourself get absolutely fucking wet.

Metal would like to thank the author, bootboy, for this story and for the pictures of himself included above. You can find the author on Recon under the screen name bootboy and on Twitter as @bootboy39488256

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