O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Office Politics (hypno)

by magister

Retirement Party

Everything seemed to go wrong after Arnold’s retirement party.

Before then, everything was so great, so on track, that I can’t believe it.

My name is Gary, and I work in an office in the city. Just one of many workers in offices in buildings in cities all over the world.

But I’m a bit more special. I’m modest to my friends - it’s all part of my charm - but I know I’m good looking. I have that sort of healthy, boy-next-door look, with sandy blond hair that occasionally falls in my eyes and makes me look ‘cute’. I have a casual, open style that makes it easy to talk to anyone, and a natural confidence that’s going to take me to the top.

As soon as I heard that Arnold was retiring, I knew my time had come. With the consequent reshuffling, there was an opening for a young executive who could be fast-tracked to junior partner. It would be between me and Richard, and it didn’t take much to see who was in the lead.

You see, where I was casual, young and charming, Richard was severe and controlled and had the social skills of a porcupine. He was a good worker, probably knew more about the business than I did, but he wasn’t going to get promoted.

At least not while I’m his competition. And not while I’m dating the Chairman’s daughter.

I actually liked Alison, but we held no illusions about each other. We were both after a particular lifestyle, we were both looking for a partner as attractive as ourselves, and we both had an agreement about ‘fidelity’. I needed her for the stability and influence she had, and she liked the fact that I was a bit dangerous, and could take her to some of the more interesting clubs.

So we turned up at the retirement party, arm in arm, looking like a celebrity couple. I had my collar undone and my tie loosely knotted to show the higher-ups that I was a bit of a rebel, but still socially ‘acceptable’. Alison had on a low cut gown so she could use her breasts to swing a few more votes my way. We were the cream of the crop. We knew it, and everyone else could see it.

The evening was going well, and Richard’s presence only made me look even more the man. He was wearing his usual dark suit, white shirt and understated tie. As usual he had his dark hair slicked straight back in a style right out of American Psycho. He was good looking, in a dark, strong way, and he was only a few years older than I am, but we came across as completely opposite people.

One of the office girls - I think her name was Margaret - had brought along her boyfriend, who it turned out knew a bit about hypnosis. He was being coaxed into doing his party piece by putting some guests under, and I was being encouraged to volunteer. Now, there were lots of reasons for me to join in - it made me centre of attention, boosted my profile with the bosses, showed I was one of the guys, etc - but I had always been wary of anything that smacked of tampering with the mind. I put off participating until Alison walked over with her father in tow, and he suggested I give it a go.

I had no choice.

I was feeling anxious, although I tried not to show it. I joined in with enthusiasm, but knew I was going to do anything but be hypnotized. My stomach was churning with the possibility of letting go control, and I could easily have thrown up. Nothing else that I had ever done scared me as much as the thought of ‘going under’.

The guy started talking to us, and had us stare at a candle flame. I kept repeating over and over in my head that I was not going to give in, until it became like a mantra. I was so focused on not being hypnotized I think I actually did it to myself.

Next thing I know, he’s talking directly to me, and I’m feeling kind of disconnected. Not a bad feeling, but weird. He’s asking me to count my fingers, and I go okay. But when I count them, I get 11, not 10. I know something’s wrong, and everyone’s laughing, so I count them again. Still eleven. I look at my fingers, and I can’t see any extra ones, so I give up. He tells me to relax, and I do. Then he says I can now remember the number seven, which is a stupid thing to say, and this time when I count my fingers, there are definitely ten. I feel a lot better.

Then he tells me to close my eyes, and I do.

When I open them again, the crowd is moving away as if the show is over, and Alison comes over and is laughing as she tells me how silly the whole thing was, and how this guy got us to do the craziest things. I can only remember the finger-counting thing, and I swear I am never going to let anyone do that to me again.

About an hour later, Alison and I go to leave. We want to check out a bit of music, dance a bit and let ourselves go. I’m not too drunk to think we’ll have sex at some point as well.

As we’re walking out and saying our goodbyes, I see Richard staring at me, with this strange smirk on his face, like he knows something I don’t.

But I’m not bothered. I’ve got my future sewn up, and everything is looking good.

An Embarrassing Erection

Monday morning came too fast, and I was back in the office and faking some enthusiasm. The bosses had told us they’d be making their decision in two weeks, so I had to make sure I was seen doing a great job.

The morning was uneventful, but after lunch Richard sauntered into the office. Once again I couldn’t help but compare the two of us. I was in shirt-sleeves; bright tie, light coloured chinos and the latest street wear black shoes. He was in a dark suit with a faint pinstripe, and his slicked back hair was so gelled it looked like patent leather.

He wanted to talk to me, and even though I insisted I was busy, he just walked in and sat himself down. I tried to ignore him and kept on shuffling through the papers on my desk, but he wasn’t getting the hint. He started talking about the party on Friday night, and how funny it was to see how much control the hypnotist had over me. I tried to tune him out, and it must have worked, because his voice seemed to float away and become just a soft murmur.

Then I heard him calling my name, and I felt like I was coming back from somewhere far away.

He was getting up to leave, saying how he had to get back to work, and I automatically stood up myself, as if it was rude to be sitting while he was standing.

“Oh, and before you go home, you might want to take care of that.” He nodded at my crotch, and with a smirk on his face he left.

I looked down, and couldn’t believe my eyes. My dick was sticking out of my fly, and was fully hard. When I had stood up, he would have had a full view of it. My face must have gone bright red as I dropped back into my chair and tried to stick it back in my pants.

I’m not boasting when I say I’m well endowed, and just then it seemed I was never going to get it hidden before someone else wandered in and started talking to me.

Once I did have it deflated and stowed, I calmed down enough to think about what had happened. Why was my dick out? Why couldn’t I remember getting it out, let alone making it hard while Richard was talking to me? And then it hit me that Richard now had some ammunition to use against me. All he had to do was tell people what he had seen, and it would be a blow against my campaign for promotion.

But that was stupid. He wasn’t going to tell anyone - he had few friends in the office. And people wouldn’t believe him. I wouldn’t believe him, and I was there!

I tried to get back to work, but I couldn’t seem to focus. The thought of Richard staring at me while my cock stuck out from my pants just kept going around and around in my head. To make it worse, I couldn’t seem to keep my hands away from my crotch. I caught myself several times rubbing my dick through the thick cotton fabric.

I thought I was going mad, and maybe I needed to see a doctor.

Or maybe I just needed a hot night with Alison. I was just thinking this, when she turned up at my door.

“Coming?” she said.

I told her I couldn’t risk leaving early with the promotion at stake, and then she pointed out it was already after five. I had lost a huge chunk of time somewhere. When Richard had entered the office it was just after two o’clock. What was going on?

I went out with Alison, and then back to her place. I tried to keep it light and breezy, but my mind kept going back to that scene, with me standing at the desk and Richard looking at my dick. I needed to do something to find out what the heck was happening.

His Office Boy

The next morning I wasted no time cornering Richard in his office. I demanded to know what had happened in my office. I knew he had done something, and I meant to find out what.

He gave me his superior smile, and started talking. I knew he was talking, but I couldn’t seem to understand him. I felt like I was floating somewhere.

He told me to sit, and I did. He seemed to be saying something about it having nothing to do with him. He hadn’t done anything but talk to me. I must have been playing with my dick under the desk for reasons of my own.

I was feeling woozy. He was right. He couldn’t have done it. There must be some other reason. I stood up to leave, when he asked me to apologise. I turned back, and sincerely said how sorry I was. He smiled and told me it was okay.

I headed back to my office, and I felt a bit like I’d been drinking. I sat down in my chair and tried to pull myself together. I pulled my dick from my chinos, and began stroking it as I tried to remember why I was blaming Richard. The buzzer on my desk brought me back to reality. Some of my most important clients were on their way up, and I needed to get ready. I had known he was coming by at 11:00, but where had the time gone? How could it be that late already?

I looked down, and was once again confronted with my hard dick sticking straight up out of my pants. This time I couldn’t blame it on Richard as he wasn’t even there. I quickly stuffed it back down, and hoped the bulge would be gone before they got here.

Mr. Thompson was one of the firm’s biggest clients. I had worked hard over the months to get on his good side, and it had paid off.

I met him at the door of my office looking only sightly flustered and showed him and his two flunkies to their chairs. We exchanged some pleasantries, and he did his bit of boasting and I acted suitably impressed. There were a few business details we had to fix up, but all this preliminary guy stuff was an essential part of office politics.

Just as we started getting down to the serious stuff, Richard turned up at the door and asked if he could have a quick word. I was more than a little annoyed, but I didn’t want to show it in front of the client. I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway.

I was just about to tell Richard to piss off, when he started talking to me earnestly. I once again felt light-headed as he explained his predicament.

He told me that he had some urgent photocopying to do, and couldn’t find anyone else to do it. He was relying on me to take it and help him out. I found it hard to think straight. The request seemed quite straightforward, but just didn’t ‘feel’ right. My head started throbbing.

“But what about Mr. Thompson?” My voice sounded lame to my own ears.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the client. You just go and make 20 copies of this and wait for me in my office. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I couldn’t seem to argue. For some reason, he made perfect sense.

I headed for the copy room without even excusing myself. Richard went into my office and closed the door.

I felt that if I got this job quickly, I might get back in time to salvage some of the meeting.

When I got to the photocopier, there were two assistants there before me. One of them asked if I was okay, and I assured her I was. She then offered to do my copying for me, but I insisted that I needed to do it. It seemed ages until it was my turn. I set the copier up for the 20 copies I needed, and felt a bit of my anxiety ease. As the machine went through its paces, I seemed to just float off and relax. Thoughts of the importance of the client couldn’t reach me where I was.

With a final clunk, the machine finished, and I took the papers up to Richard’s office. He wasn’t there yet, so I sat down to wait. I flicked through the papers I held, and was puzzled. There seemed to be just one sentence printed on every page. ‘I am Richard’s Office Boy.’

I couldn’t think why he needed this so urgently, but it must be important. I put the papers on his desk and then leaned back in the chair to wait.

It must have been an hour later when Richard arrived. I stood up as he entered, and then once he had seated himself behind his desk, he told me to sit, and I did. He looked through the papers I had copied, and smiled. Then he dropped them in the wastepaper basket.

It seemed strange to me. There was something wrong with this whole situation, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. The more I tried to put the pieces together, the more my head hurt.

Richard started talking again, and I focused on his voice. He was telling me that he had handled everything with the clients, and that they had gone away happy. They had been pleased with Richard’s work, and that made me happy.

Actually, it was more like he was telling me that I should be happy, and I was. It was like his words were making me think and feel things.

He talked some more, but I was losing track. Then he was calling my name again, and I realized that my head had dropped to my chest. Maybe I had dropped off?

“Hadn’t you better go now? Don’t you have some work to do?” Richard was looking at me with his smile. He really was a good guy for looking out for me.

“Yeah, I better get back. Thanks again for helping out with Mr. Thompson. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, let me know. I owe you one!”

“Well, you could go and get my dry-cleaning. Thompson asked me to write up some notes, so I’ll be busy all lunch. “It seemed a reasonable request, and with Richard doing the work for the Thompson account, there wasn’t much for me to do anyway.

He handed me his claim stub, and for some reason, I leaned forward and shook his hand before I left. He wasn’t a bad guy after all.

I headed back to my office, picked up my car keys and headed out. His Dry Cleaners wasn’t too far away, so it didn’t take too much of my lunch hour.

Once I was back and had dropped off my errand, I sat down at my desk and started going through some paper work. I was almost humming to myself, as the day seemed to have gone so well.

I had no plans with Alison that night, so I went home, worked out for a while then took a long hot shower.

As I was drying myself off, I found myself thinking of Richard. Maybe people just misunderstood him. Maybe I had judged him too quickly. He seemed to be a nice enough guy.

As I was thinking this, I idly started stroking my dick. This time, though, it was okay, as I wasn’t in the office. I thought back to the day before when he had caught me with my hard-on in my office. I blushed about it, but it occurred to me that he had been really great about it. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, and hadn’t made a big deal out of it.

My dick was throbbing with the attention, but it felt good like that. I turned to the mirror and started checking myself out. I did look good, but the occasional moisturizer and cleanser didn’t hurt either. I found myself combing my wet hair back off my face, and thought how it looked like Richard’s. The throbbing in my dick got more intense as I scraped and smoothed my hair back like his. I seemed mesmerized for a minute or so, and then I laughed.

As much as that style looked good on him, it did nothing for me. I messed up my hair and went to bed. It seemed to have been a long day.

I don’t know what I dreamed, but it must have been good. I woke up with dried cum on the sheets.

Bad News For Alison

Wednesday passed without too much trouble. Richard came by once or twice with a few odd jobs to do. I didn’t mind because he had helped me out with the Thompson account.

Someone asked me why I was doing Richard’s work, and why I didn’t just ask one of the assistants to do it, but deep down I knew that Richard trusted me to complete each task, and it wouldn’t be the same if I just passed it off onto someone else.

Besides, it made me happy when I returned to his office and he smiled at me. He didn’t need to say thank you, but I felt his appreciation, and I felt good that I had done him some small service.

I found myself playing with my dick once or twice as well, but for some reason I wasn’t really that concerned. As long as nobody knew, who was it hurting? At one point, Richard walked past my door and glanced in, and I knew that he knew what I was doing. Although I blushed and he walked away, it just made my dick throb harder.

When I got home, I kept thinking back to what a great guy he was, and how maybe I should be a bit more like him - a bit more responsible and hard-working. But by nature I was a more laid-back kind of guy, and I knew I could never be that anal, even if I tried.

Thursday was a bad day.

It was after lunch when Richard came in to my office. I stood up to greet him, as if he were a client. This was becoming almost automatic now. At least there was no dick sticking out this time.

He started talking to me, and once again I started slipping away. A few days ago this would have worried me, but now I simply accepted it. I don’t know how long it went on, but when I heard him calling my name, I surfaced again, feeling refreshed.

Every time I had seen Richard this week, I felt I was seeing more of the real him. The things about him that I had thought were barriers against the world, like the suits, were just good taste and understatement. His neatness and control were starting to make me feel a little scruffy and unpolished. I resisted the urge to reach up and straighten my tie.

He left for his own office, and I settled down to work. Before too long I realized I was once again playing with my dick underneath the desk. It felt good and relaxing, and quite natural. As my hand eased its way up and down the shaft, it occurred to me that it wasn’t doing any harm letting it ‘hang out’ like this. I wasn’t cumming, I was just teasing myself.

In fact, it may even be helping me release stress. I had certainly felt less anxious over the last few days.

So I got back to work, aware that my stiff rod was exposed, but reveling in it rather than worrying about it.

Alison dropped by about four, and luckily I remembered at the last minute, so didn’t get up to kiss her as I normally would have.

She was talking about our plans for the evening, when I found myself interrupting her. I was telling her that I had to work late tonight to catch up on all my accounts. She was a little peeved, but I reassured her I would make it up to her tomorrow night. She conceded that there were certain bigger issues at stake until I got the promotion. She got up to leave, but I was once again stuck in my chair, as I didn’t want her to see my stiff pole. She must have thought my behaviour was a bit odd, but she didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t until after she had gone that I wondered why I had lied to her. I had no plans to work late, and could have easily gone out. But, for some reason, I had put her off.

I sat there thinking about why I should be lying, and didn’t notice the time passing. When I looked up it was five o’clock, so I stuffed my dick back in my trousers, grabbed my briefcase, and set off home.

There was a general exodus as the office emptied, and I found myself chatting up a pretty young office girl with big breasts while we waited for the lift. I was pouring on the charm, and she was responding.

It was then that I caught sight of Alison out of the corner of my eye. She had just come out of her father’s office, and she was staring across at me.

Now, the normal thing would have been to stop my chat up line, go and apologize to her, tell her I got a lot of work done and that I was free to wine and dine her.

Instead, I continued flirting with the girl until the elevator doors closed and I lost sight of Alison.

As the lift descended, I lost all interest in the girl, and as the doors sprung open on the ground floor, I almost sprinted for the car park.

Something was really wrong. I was doing things that were definitely not ‘me’. Was I heading for a nervous breakdown? Was the stress getting to me? There must be some reason for what I was doing.

I got home, chained the door and shucked my clothes. I was agitated and trying to think, but it was like trying to catch some slippery eel.

I poured myself a scotch and sat down on my favourite leather chair to think.

I went through some of the stranger things I had done this week in my head. There was all this playing with my dick in the office, and running messages for Richard. There was the lying to Alison and the running out on my best client.

My head was throbbing, so I downed the rest of the glass.

Someone was controlling me. Someone was making me do stuff that I wouldn’t normally do. But who?

There was the guy at the party who hypnotized me. But I had never seen him before, or since. Someone else.

Who else was at the party? Alison? Could she be doing it? But why would she have me break a date with her and chat up some little nothing?

Who else?

I was fixing myself another drink when it hit me.

Richard.

My headache was gone. I knew that somehow Richard had found out how to control me! He had watched the hypnotist, and picked up on something that allowed him to put me back under.

I was shocked and horrified. I was angry. I threw the glass against the wall, where it smashed with a satisfying thud.

I had no idea what to do, but now that I knew there was a problem, I could fix it. The first thing to do was to make things better with Alison. I could charm my way out of it given half a chance.

I went to have a shower. I figured if I went by her place, took some wine and roses, we’d be back on track tomorrow.

I was once again in front of the mirror, combing my wet hair, when I was again reminded of Richard. My hands stopped moving, and the tension I had felt since realizing the truth seemed to melt away.

Richard was a nice guy, deep down. There’s no way he would have played around with my life on purpose. It was probably all part of some game.

As I smoothed my hair back, I realized that he wasn’t to blame. It was just a practical joke that had gotten out of hand. He would never have done anything bad, and he would have stopped it before it went too far.

Reassured, I headed for bed. There was plenty of time to fix things with Alison. I was sure Richard could explain everything and it would all make perfect sense.

I drifted off to sleep, trying to imagine the scene as it would play out tomorrow. Richard in calm control, me laughing it off, Alison happy that we were all friends. My throbbing dick felt good in my hand.

Bad Hair Day

I woke up the next morning, still convinced that Richard would have an excellent explanation for everything that happened. I dressed quickly and got to the office early in order to catch him before the day began.

As I got to the office, I noticed a problem with my reflection. I raced to the bathroom and looked at my head with dismay.

Because I’d gone to bed with wet hair, it had dried all out of place. Why hadn’t I noticed it before I left the apartment? I managed to comb it into some sort of order, but I still had a lock of bed hair that stuck out the back. I tried to dampen it down, but it was being stubborn.

I gave up and went back to my office. This was starting off as a bad day, and about to get worse. The Chairman’s secretary was looking for me, and I was to report straight to his office.

I figured that maybe Alison had had a talk with her Dad last night, and I probably wasn’t in his good books. But I wasn’t too concerned. Once I explained that it was all a joke, that I’d been hypnotized, everything would go back to normal.

However, I wasn’t given a chance to explain.

Alison’s father was more concerned with the fact that Mr. Thompson wanted to change the person who handled his account - from me to Richard! Apparently, my behaviour during the week had been less than professional, and he had reported this to the boss over a poker game.

He was trying to be fatherly toward me, as he had the same hopes for Alison and me that we did. But he assured me that this sudden change in attitude I was showing had been noticed, and if I didn’t up my game over the next week, they’d have no choice but to give the promotion to Richard.

I said I understood, and left the office very subdued. I knew that it was all a misunderstanding, and what I needed now was for Richard to go in and explain everything that had happened and get me off the hook. I was sure he would do it.

I went looking for him, but he was out of the office for the morning.

I figured the best thing I could do now was throw myself into my work and prove how seriously I took my job. I was a dynamo of activity, doing ten things at once. The morning flew by as I worked to get all my paperwork up to date so I could spend the weekend mending bridges with Alison.

I was so into my work, that I forgot to hunt up Richard, so I was surprised to look up and see him there in my doorway. I immediately stood up and invited him in to sit down, while I closed the door. He could tell something was up by the way I was acting, and he listened closely while I told him what I thought was going on. Then I waited for him to tell me it was all okay, and he would straighten everything out.

He did start talking, and I immediately felt myself relaxing. Just the sound of his voice meant that everything would be all right.

I went into a sort of daze, where I spent more time looking intensely at his moving lips than listening to what he was saying. I did hear him suggest that we go over to his office so he could be more comfortable, and I agreed. Everything seemed reasonable when he said it.

As we stepped out of my office into the main work area, he turned to me and, in what seemed a loud voice, told me that he wanted a coffee, black with no sugar, and I should bring it straight to his office. Again, everything seemed reasonable, and I wasn’t aware of the looks and comments as I went down the hall to the machine, and brought back the one coffee.

He told me to close the door and sit, which I did. He then perched on the edge of his desk so he could look down at me, and I felt like a little boy confronted by the principal. He started talking, and my eyes were drawn back to his lips.

He was saying the same things that Alison’s father had said, but this time they made more sense and carried more weight. He told me that I was letting myself down, as well as the company. He said I was wasting my time, playing with my dick, while Richard had to work twice as hard to cover me. I was so ashamed. The more he talked, the more I dropped my head as I realized what a disappointment I was.

Then he reached down with his hand and lifted my chin so I was staring him straight in the eyes. He said he really wanted to help me, but that the only way was for me to do everything he said.

I said I would do anything, but then he said I didn’t really mean it. I assured him I was truly ready to let him help me, but he didn’t look convinced.

He suggested I close my eyes and relax, and think of myself as being a better person. He kept talking, but I lost track of his words. I was imagining myself ‘perfect’ or at least ‘better’. However, every time the image started to form, it transformed into Richard. Richard was perfect. He was everything I wanted to be. It was all becoming clearer.

I dozed off a little, and Richard had to speak my name a couple of times to wake me up. He was smiling, and that made me feel better. It felt as if we’d just shared a laugh, and now everything would be back to normal, only better.

He reached out his hand and tugged at the troublesome lock of hair that had once again popped up. I told him how I had slept on it the wrong way, and how it had plagued me all day. He smiled again, and went to get something from his desk drawer.

He told me to hold out my hands, and then squeezed my palms full of a clear, sticky gel. I guessed it was the gel he used to keep his own hair in order.

I looked up at him quizzically, and he told me to rub my palms together, and then rub the goo into my hair. All over.

I did as instructed. It felt very sticky and wet, and I tentatively applied it to my head. Richard encouraged me to be more vigorous, and get it right down to the roots. When I felt I had rubbed it all in, he had me hold out my hands and apply some more.

Then he pulled out his comb, and stood behind me. He started talking gently to me and combing my hair back. It felt good the way he was doing it, and I just relaxed. I knew he was getting everything in order, and that made me feel like everything would be all right.

I suppose it was weird. I should have objected. I should have done something to stop him. Instead, I just relaxed under his ministrations. I pulled some tissues from my drawer and wiped my hands as he pulled the comb from front to back, then smoothed it with his palm, over and over.

When he was finished, he had me stand up and face him. There was a slight frown of disapproval on his face, as he commented that my hair was too long for a proper businessman. I felt a bit like I had let him down by not having shorter hair, and started to apologize. He assured me that it would do, and I looked a lot better than I had.

There was no mirror to check out what I did look like, but by gently rubbing my hand over my head, I knew it would be dramatic.

Richard looked at his watch, and he said it was time to knock off for the weekend. He suggested I go back to his place for a drink, and I agreed. I suggested though that we talk to Alison’s father before we left in order to explain everything, but Richard said it could wait until everyone was fresh on Monday morning. It seemed reasonable, so I said I would grab my briefcase and be ready to go.

Richard said there was no need, as there was no work that I needed to do over the weekend except improve myself. But he suggested that I could carry his case and files, as he did have a lot of work to do.

It was still ten minutes before official quitting time, so the outer offices were still full. It wasn’t until Richard’s office door clicked behind me that I felt the full impact of what had just happened.

I had to walk past all of these people that I knew and worked with, with my hair slicked down in a copy of Richard’s trademark hairdo. I had no idea what I looked like, but I knew it must look strange.

I tagged along behind Richard, carrying all his stuff, while leaving in our wake a lot of tongues wagging and an avalanche of office gossip. There was no way to hide my head, so I just suffered along feeling embarrassed as we made our way to his car. I said I’d meet him at his place, and moved to go, but he insisted that I leave my car there and go with him.

I again did as I was told without argument. At that stage, I was willing to do anything to get away.

A Night Of Hypnosis

When we arrived at his apartment, I started feeling apprehensive. What was I doing? What the hell was going on?

As we entered, he went straight to his study to drop off his briefcase and check his messages, which left me to check myself out in his hall mirror.

The gel had done its job in slicking my hair back, but its natural waviness meant that instead of the smooth cap that Richard had, I had a bump about an inch back from my brow, and another bump just before my crown. The long hair at the back was sticking to the collar of my shirt and jacket. I ran my hand over the shiny hair and the stickiness was gone. It was starting to go hard, as if I were wearing a helmet.

I was thinking of the best way to ask Richard if I could use his bathroom to wash the gunk out of my hair, when he returned and motioned me to a chair.

He had put out a wooden kitchen chair facing his padded swivel chair. I sat down on the hard wood, and he settled down on the leather. Then I once again started fading away.

It’s almost impossible for me to describe the rest of that evening coherently. It sort of felt like being a prize fighter at some boxing match. I couldn’t remember being knocked out, but every now and then someone would throw a bucket of water in my face and wake me up, only to be knocked out again.

Richard kept going in and out of ‘focus’. There were times when I knew he was talking to me, but I couldn’t consciously understand the words. At other times, it was like we were having a normal conversation.

At some point, I became aware that I was sitting there completely naked in front of him. I had a real hard on, but I wasn’t doing anything to hide it. I was asking him if it was okay to jerk off, just as you might ask your host if it was okay to smoke. He said it was fine with him, as long as I didn’t cum and make a mess. I started stroking my meat while we held a normal conversation. He was asking me about where I grew up, and I was telling him some stories from my childhood. Every time I came close to coming, I eased off, and then started again.

The next time I ‘woke up’, I felt a bit more embarrassed about being naked and hard in front of him. He suggested I go and put on some clothes, and I felt a wave of gratitude toward him. I went over to where my clothes lay discarded in the corner, but that’s as far as I got.

I saw them lying there. I tried to reach down and pick them up, but I couldn’t. Richard asked me what the matter was, and I said I just couldn’t put those clothes on. They weren’t good enough for me, and I felt like if I did put them on it would somehow make me feel bad, or they would look wrong.

He said it was all okay, and maybe I should sit down again. I did, and blacked out. I must have surfaced several times over the next few hours, but it was all very hazy.

Finally I felt like I was emerging out of quicksand. I stood up and stretched, and even though I was still naked, I didn’t feel too bothered that Richard was looking. It felt good being with him, and I knew he didn’t mind.

I looked at the clock on the wall and realized it was after midnight. I said I really should go, but he insisted I stay. I knew he would have to drive me home or back to my car, and I certainly didn’t want to put him out. I said I’d stay as long as I could just sleep on the chair he had provided.

He was a little concerned that I might fall off during the night, and I was lost for a reply. He then suggested that if he tied me to the chair I could get a good night’s sleep without falling over. It seemed such a logical solution, I quickly agreed.

He rummaged through the pile of clothes in the corner and came back with my old shirt and tie. I didn’t want to touch them, but he assured me I didn’t have to wear them.

That said, I sat in the chair, while he secured my arms behind the chair back with my shirt. The sleeves were looped through the wood so that my arms were firmly attached to the chair.

Then he took my tie, looped one end around my neck and the other end secured below my hands. It pulled my neck back, and forced my shoulders against the top edge of the chair. It felt uncomfortable, but Richard assured me I would get used to it.

He rubbed his hand over my gelled hair and asked me if I were comfortable. I looked up at him in his handsome suit and with his stern good looks and felt a wave of what I could only call adoration. I assured him I would be fine, and then he left.

As he turned out the light, I drifted off into a natural sleep, only slightly troubled by nightmares where I was locked in a shrinking cage while a gigantic Richard stood above me, laughing.

A Shopping Trip

Saturday morning was painful. My muscles ached from being strapped in that position all night. My neck was sore from where the tie pulled against my throat.

Richard was standing at the door when I woke, and asked how I slept. I told him it was the greatest night’s sleep I had ever had, as there was no way I wanted to disappoint him. He leaned over me to untie my arms, and I caught the smell of him full in my nostrils, and it made my dick twitch. There was something about him that was more overpowering the more time I spent with him.

I stood up and stretched my muscles out. He said he had some equipment in the spare room if I wanted to use it, so I followed him down the hall. He had some weights and the like in his own mini-gym. I set to, using the familiarity of a good workout to get rid of the final kinks. He was working out too, but where he had sweats on, I was still naked. However, for some reason I thought it would be rude to ask for clothes.

Every now and then I would find myself staring at him as we went through our paces, and was amazed at how great he looked. There was just something so ‘right’ about him that I couldn’t define.

When he caught me looking, I dropped my head in embarrassment, but he simply laughed it off.

He suggested I do a few more miles on the bike while he had a shower, and then I could take my turn.

My calves were burning by the time he came out of the bathroom and I felt I had his permission to stop. I made my way to the bathroom and was closing the door when he stopped me.

“Leave the door open, otherwise there’ll be too much steam.” He was right of course, so I climbed into the shower. Anyway, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t already seen me naked.

I washed myself down, and used the shampoo to get the gel out of my hair. I used his soap, and suddenly thought about how all these smells were his. When I got out of the shower, I was going to smell less like me and more like Richard.

As I stepped out of the shower, Richard was standing there waiting for me. He handed me a towel and I dried myself off. He had dressed in a white shirt, slacks and a tie, and I was struck by how controlled he looked. He put a lot of work into looking good all the time and people just didn’t appreciate that.

He then took it upon himself to help me clean myself up. He showed me where the shaving cream was, and got me to use the razor so that my face was a lot smoother than I normally bother with. As he ran his hands across my neck and cheek to check for stubble, I once again felt that stirring in my groin.

He handed me the after shave and deodorant, and then I really did smell exactly like him.

The last touch was the hair, and he once again squeezed the gel into my hands. This time without prompting I rubbed it thoroughly through my hair and held out my hand for more. When every strand was coated, I took his comb and did my best to comb it back. However, no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get it flat across the top, and I looked at him to see if he was disappointed. I don’t know why it should matter, but I wanted him to think I looked okay.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get that fixed up a bit later.” I felt a wave of relief. As I checked myself in the mirror, I thought for a minute that I looked ridiculous, but it was only a momentary lapse. It was strange, but while I was here with Richard, even the strangest behaviour seemed quite normal, as if we were in another dimension.

We left the bathroom and entered his bedroom, where he had some clothes laid out on the bed.

“I hope you don’t mind, but your clothes got a bit ruined last night, and I thought you might appreciate some clean ones.” I was overwhelmed by his generosity, and set about putting them on. It was strange, but the fact that he had at some point worn these clothes made it a very intense experience.

He stayed to watch me dress, and we made small talk about sports and the weather. I was wearing another guy’s underwear, his slacks and shirt and socks, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

He picked out a tie for me and helped me put it on. When I was fully dressed, he turned me toward a full-length mirror to admire myself. My first impression was that I looked wrong, that I was like a doll all dressed up, but as Richard placed his hands on my shoulders and told me how fantastic I looked, and what a great improvement it was, I figured that it was best to trust his opinion. What did I know about fashion?

Unfortunately, I had to wear my old shoes, and they felt extremely uncomfortable, but my foot wouldn’t have fitted into Richard’s Italian leathers.

I told him that I was going shopping to get a decent pair like his, and he offered to go with me to show me the best stores. I said I didn’t want to put him to any trouble, but he assured me he was only too glad to help. My admiration for him was climbing by the minute.

“Why don’t we stop on the way to get your hair fixed as well?” he suggested, and I quickly agreed. “We can make a day of it.”

Our first stop was a shoe shop that smelled like rich leather. The guy behind the counter knew Richard, and we quickly got down to business. I tried on several pairs, and there were some I liked, and some Richard preferred. When it came to the crunch, I found myself agreeing with Richard’s choices, and feeling that he knew what he was talking about. He was the expert, so I should trust his opinion.

I bought two pair of lace up shoes, and then we went down a few doors and bought some shirts. They were a white cotton and crisp. Richard said that he always got his shirts dry cleaned with extra starch and I made a mental note to do the same. We also bought a few ties at the same shop, and once again I handed over the choice to Richard. The shop keeper must have wondered what was going on, and once or twice I caught him glancing at my strange hair, but I really couldn’t seem to get concerned.

I was loaded down with parcels, so we stopped at a small café for a break. Richard suggested that I change my shoes while we were waiting for the coffee, so I did. The old shoes were disposed of in a bin as we headed back to his car. It was nearly lunchtime when we stopped at a small barber shop on a side street off the main thoroughfares.

Again, the barber knew Richard and was happy to see him. The shop was empty, so I was sat down in the chair while Richard explained the problem. It was funny, sitting there while two grown men discussed me like I wasn’t even there.

Richard said that I worked with him, and admired his clean cut look. I had tried it myself, he said, but my hair wasn’t built that way and it was a disaster. The barber ran his hand over my hair and agreed. He pulled out a comb, and started trying to comb the dried gel out of my hair.

“What are these?” asked Richard, looking over some old black and white photos on the back wall.

“They were there when I took over the shop. I thought they looked good, so I just left them there.” The barber went over to Richard, as he pointed to one photo in particular. They discussed whether it would suit me, and whether the barber could cut it that way. I craned my neck, but couldn’t see the picture they were looking at.

The barber felt confident that he could copy the style, if that was what I really wanted. Richard came over, leaned in and looked me in the eye. He asked me if I trusted him, and I said yes. Did I trust him enough to leave this decision up to him, and what else could I do but agree? He was so good to help me out, and he did have excellent taste.

Richard then told the barber it was okay to go ahead. He looked at my head from every angle, consulted the photo, then came back to look at my hair again. He then picked up the clippers and approached me like it was some major surgery.

“You are going to look fantastic!” he said.

He then set too, combing out the last of the gel from my hair and getting stuck in with scissors and clippers. Richard stood close by, and seemed to be giving him advice along the way. The barber realized that it was Richard in charge and not me, and so directed his comments to him.

“A little shorter here?”

“Yes, and I think we should take it up another half inch at the back.”

“Are you sure?” The barber was obviously trying to keep me looking modern, but Richard kept pushing for the picture. At one point, after cutting most of the hair off the back of my head, he combed down my fringe and I thought he was going to attack that as well.

Instead, he commented on how short it was, and for the proper style the hair in front should reach at least to the end of my nose. What on earth were they doing to me?

A little later I realized he was putting in a part, and I pointed out that I parted my hair on the other side, only he couldn’t tell because when I came in it was combed back. However Richard turned the chair and again stared directly at me, assuring me that they knew what they were doing, and I would be pleased with the result.

I felt better then and more comfortable just letting the two of them get on with it.

After what seemed ages, they both were happy with the cut. However, as Richard reached for the jar of gel, the barber insisted that my hair would be better off with a light cream. He took Richard over to the shelf and they unscrewed a few jars so he could smell them. When he found one with a perfume he liked, he brought it back, and the barber rubbed it through my hair. The fragrance at first seemed overpowering, but eventually settled down.

He then attacked my head with the comb, getting my new part as sharp as a knife. My hair was still being combed back, but over the top it was combed sideways from the part and forward, so the bulk of the hair at the front could be lifted up and pulled back, giving me a huge quiff.. The barber smoothed his hand along as he combed, plastering the top and sides to my head. It was a very old fashioned cut, and I was beginning to get anxious. It was different to anything else I’d seen on any guy under forty, and it was way different to what I was used to. When he used the mirror to show me the back, I almost jumped. It was extremely short at the back, and an inch above the starched collar of Richard’s shirt. With a pair of dark sunglasses, I could pass for some uptight FBI agent.

Richard said it looked great, and so did the barber. Secretly, I was already thinking about washing out the cream and wearing a hat until some of the length grew back.

I paid the guy and bought a few jars of the cream and a brush and comb set, just to be polite. We left the shop, and the reflection in the window said I looked really, really wrong.

As we climbed back into Richard’s car, I felt I should say something. I blurted out my misgivings, and suggested that this new ‘look’ wasn’t really me, and how I was grateful for everything he had done, but maybe it was too much.

Richard didn’t look too bothered. He started telling me not to worry, and I started zoning out again.

A Night At Bootcamp

Richard again had to call my name to get me to come back out of my daze. We were still sitting in the front seat of his car, but everything else had changed. It was later in the day, maybe early evening, and there were houses around us rather than city streets.

Several hours and lots of miles had vanished from my life, but I just couldn’t get concerned. There was a logical part of my brain that was telling me that this wasn’t right, but it was a small voice and sounded far away. The important thing was that I was still here with Richard.

I shook my head to try and clear it. There were other things I needed to do. I should call Alison. I should go home and think about everything that was happening. I should do stuff, but I needed to be here. With Richard.

He looked in my eyes with that intense stare, and my body responded. My dick more than twitched it was getting hard. This had got to stop. I told him I needed to go home, but he silenced me with a small, disapproving frown.

He asked me if I wanted his help, and I said ‘Of course.’ He asked me if I was sure, and I told him that I was looking forward to having him help me make myself better. I assured him that I was thankful for all he had done.

He then went on to explain that we were near the house of a friend of his. He had called this friend this afternoon, and he was also willing to help me. This seemed to make sense so far.

Richard assured me that his friend was the best ‘trainer’ around, and that he was doing us a huge favour by agreeing to see me. Once again I felt a wave of gratitude for Richard. He was going to so much trouble; I doubted I was worth it.

He told me that this friend had a specialty. He helped men to obey. On that word, my body tingled, as if someone was tickling me, or Alison had run her tongue around my dick head. Richard told me that he could only really help me if I learned to obey him completely. Again, the word ‘obey’ sent a mini thrill through my body. Of course I agreed to obey him, and said I didn’t need training.

Richard looked at me again with that disapproving look. I felt ashamed that I had done something wrong again. He patiently explained that by refusing to do what he asked, i.e., see his friend; I was showing that I couldn’t obey. I could see his point. As much as I felt bad about disappointing him, I couldn’t help but respond when he used that word.

I quickly told Richard that I was stupid, that I would happily see his friend. He asked me whether I could be trusted to do everything I was told to do, no matter what, and I promised him that I would. He seemed satisfied, and we got out of the car.

The house that we walked up to seemed nondescript, and I took a moment to think of what sort of trainer this friend was, and how did you train someone to obey?

The man who opened the door looked military. He had close-cropped hair and a khaki Singlet that stretched over a wall of muscle. He was slightly shorter than me, but built like a brick wall. He shook hands with Richard while he looked me up and down. Richard said I should call him ‘Captain’, and that was the entire introduction I got. They left me standing in the hallway while they went in to the front room and talked. I could hear they were talking about me, and Captain didn’t believe what Richard had told him. I felt a bit upset that someone like Richard was being maligned, but I could also see a glint of awe in the Captain’s eye.

They came back over, and the Captain asked me if I knew why I was there. I told him that I needed to learn to obey, and Richard was kind enough to set up this meeting.

“And you agree to let me train you? To help you obey?” When he used the word, the thrill went up my spine.

“Yes, Captain.” I didn’t see his hand as it slapped across my face, leaving my jaw throbbing. He told me that from now on I should treat him with respect and call him ‘Sir’. Did I still want him to train me, make me obey? The thrill was a little stronger this time, and I glanced quickly over at Richard. Not wanting to let him down again, I agreed with a “Yes, Sir”.

He then told me to take my clothes off, and I stripped, folding the clothes and placing them on the hallway stand. I stopped at my (actually Richard’s) underwear, but the tensing of muscles by the Captain made me realize my mistake in time, and I pulled them off.

He then walked around me, checking me over from every angle. I felt like a new recruit being sized up by the drill sergeant.

Richard excused himself by saying he had some work to do, but left with the instruction that I must ‘obey’ the Captain, and learn to ‘obey’. Every time he used the word, the stimulation became stronger. I thought that if people said the word enough times, I would probably end up cumming without even touching my dick.

As the door closed behind him, I turned my attention back to the Captain. He had made up his mind about me, and was ready to get down to business. He kept my eyes locked on his as he undid his belt and pulled it loose.

“Okay, shithead, let’s see if you can obey this!”

That was the beginning of a night of horror.

To start with, no one had ever hit me in my life. My parents were reasonable, I never played a contact sport, and my charm and good looks had got me out of every scrape. The Captain, however, was an expert in hurting the body. The first half hour in his hallway proved that, and I was being pushed beyond any limit I had.

I was on the point of giving up, and living with Richard’s disappointment, but I found I couldn’t mouth the words. Whenever I tried to beg him to stop, no sound would come out. All I could manage was the occasional Yes, Sir when required.

But even worse was the sexual thrill I got when he used that word. The intensity of the pleasure was increasing with the intensity of the pain. With every slash of the belt he used the word, and my dick was throbbing. This seemed to egg him on, and the beating only got harder.

When he stopped, I felt incredibly relieved that I had survived the lesson. Then he guided me out of the hallway and down to his basement, and I realized the night was just beginning.

I had seen images of torture equipment in the movies, but it was nothing to the look and smell of it in real life. I was strapped down across a waist high padded bench, and my hands were tied to my ankles. I felt the blood rush to my head, which at least relived a little of the pressure in my dick as it was trapped between the padded bench top and my stomach.

The whipping started again, from the back of my thighs all the way over to my back. I felt like my skin was on fire, and because he hadn’t said the word, my dick was lifeless.

After what seemed forever, he came down on one knee and lifted my head up to make sure I was conscious. He then suggested that to help me get through this, I should remind myself what I was doing it for. I should say to myself ‘I must obey, I will obey’ over and over again. He had to slap me a few times to get me to understand what he was saying, but I got it.

He then went over and came back with a candle. I thought the whipping was bad, but then he started dripping hot wax over my sensitized skin. As I repeated the mantra, though, I found that a lot of the pain was being converted to feelings of arousal. Every time I said I would obey, my dick would throb, and the pain seemed a little less. Or maybe I was just getting used to it. I wasn’t going to take any chances, so I kept saying it.

That’s how the night went. I was ‘trained’ in several ways, each one seeming more painful than the last. I never knew my body could hurt so much. In between the beatings, he made me do push ups and sit-ups until every muscle was ablaze.

Around three in the morning, I was exhausted. I was going numb from the continued abuse, and although my dick was hard, it was now becoming painful as well. I was sure that not even a marine would have put themselves through what I had endured. The Captain then tied me to a large, X-shaped cross and changed his tactics.

Instead of hitting me, he started stroking my with the leather thongs of the whip. It was very sensual, and with the combination of the word ‘obey’, I was once again hard. He then started stroking my cock, and the intensity took my breath away. He was asking me if I would obey, and I kept gasping out ‘yes’, and the pain/pleasure in my dick was excruciating.

He told me to close my eyes and imagine it was Richard doing this, and my cock started leaking pre-cum. I was ashamed that I was responding to the thought of a guy stroking my dick, but my excuse was that I was exhausted after a night of abuse.

At first it was a comfort that the beating had finished, and I was now experiencing pleasure, but I hadn’t counted on the Captain’s sadism. He brought me close to cumming several times, but backed off each time so that my balls ached with a need to cum. He knew every erogenous zone on my body, and used each one.

Finally, he asked me if I really wanted to obey, or was I just wasting everyone’s time. I was too broken, and all my defenses were gone. I moaned that all I wanted to do was obey. I begged him to tell me what he wanted me to do and I would do it, whatever it was.

He let me cum, and my cock spurted for what seemed hours. I felt completely drained. He had succeeded in draining me of everything I felt was me. I knew it wasn’t really permanent, that with a good night’s sleep I would once again be in control, but at that moment I was a mindless drone, numb and waiting for instruction.

He left me hanging for a bit, and I took the opportunity to doze. I was abruptly woken by a burst of cold water as he came back and turned the hose on me.

The shock of the freezing water banished all thought of sleep, and he thoroughly hosed me down. I supposed I was covered with sweat, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I were bleeding as well. I needn’t have worried on that account, as the Captain was an expert at his job, and there were only red welts to show his night of work.

He led me upstairs to wait for Richard. He stood me ‘at ease’ near my clothes, but I wasn’t allowed to put them on. My body was cold after the dousing, and I looked at the suit and its promised warmth with desire. I was also tempted to ask for a comb as well, as my soaked hair hung down in my eyes, and the cream that hadn’t been washed out made it lank and heavy.

But after what I had seen of the Captain, I felt discretion was the better course. I stood there waiting for an hour. Breakfast smells came from the kitchen, and it made my stomach growl. But I didn’t move.

The Captain came up to me with a cup of hot coffee, and I was afraid he was going to scald me with it. Instead, he asked me if I wanted it. I gave him a ‘Yes, Sir’ and he promptly spat in it and held it out to me.

I was revolted, but the combination of exhaustion and dehydration, as well as my training in obedience, made me take it and drink it down.

I seriously didn’t taste much, and although it was very hot, I tried to finish it as quickly as I could.

I was so relieved when Richard turned up. He looked me over, and then went to talk to the Captain. They were reviewing the night’s work, and both kept glancing over my way. I stayed where I was to show them both that I had learned a valuable lesson.

Finally, Richard said we were leaving, and told me to pick up my clothes. I picked up my underwear first, intending to put it on, but he said not to. I looked at him with confusion, and he said I should never put on clothes that I had worn the day before. Instead, he had me carry them out to the car while I was completely naked.

Cleaning Out My Closet

We drove back to my place, and once again I marched behind Richard carrying my clothes. Luckily, it was still early Sunday morning, and we encountered none of my neighbours on the walk up the stairwell. We went inside the flat, and I placed the clothes on the table and turned to Richard.

I wanted him to be pleased with me for doing everything he had told me. I wanted him to say how proud he was of me, that I had survived the night of torture. I wanted him to say that walking naked in public was my last ‘initiation test’, and now that I had passed, I would never have to do anything like that again.

Instead, he looked me over with his most disappointed frown, and said I was a mess. He berated me for being such a slob, and assured me that I had a lot of work to do yet before I was anywhere near good enough. Some weak part of my ego was still strong enough to feel some anger, but mostly I was too tired to fight.

He left me standing there while he explored my apartment. When he came back I was swaying on my feet trying not to fall asleep. He was considerate enough to let me rest. He tied me to one of the kitchen chairs, and I immediately drifted off into a deep, natural sleep.

I definitely hadn’t slept enough when Richard woke me up. My muscles ached and my brain felt like mush. He untied me, and it took me a few minutes to get steady on my feet. He then guided me to my bathroom and had me look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were bloodshot and there were red marks across my shoulders and chest. My hair hung limp and flat across my forehead, and my shoulders were slumped. I looked bad, and I needed no prompting from him to know it. I felt once again that I had let him down, and myself as well. If there was any logical part of my brain left functioning, it might have told me I looked okay after everything I had been through, but there wasn’t. Richard started to explain why he was so disappointed. He made me look at my reflection as he pointed out my imperfections.

He rubbed his hand across my chin and felt the stubble. I wanted to explain that I couldn’t have shaved even if I wanted to, but I just stood there mutely. He moved from my head downward, deriding every blemish, every slight flaw.

For some reason, every comment he made seemed to hit home. I realized that I was a slob, that I was nowhere near the powerful man that he was. I could only droop my head with shame and tell him what a failure I was.

He placed his warm hand on my shoulder, and asked me if I really wanted to change, and I said I really did. He phrased it in other ways, and told me that it would require hard work on my part as well as his, and I assured him I was up to the challenge. Whereas a moment ago I felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, the fact that he saw me as worth salvaging made my emotions soar.

I noticed from my reflection that my dick was hardening, but I couldn’t seem to care. Richard had now seen me naked and hard, and he seemed comfortable. I felt comfortable, so I just let it be.

He said I needed to start with a good workout, and he wasn’t kidding. Still naked he led me into my own workout room, and put me through the most grueling workout I had ever done. Muscles that were still sore from being stretched and tied the night before were burning as I pushed myself through every exercise.

Of course, I failed miserably in living up to his expectations, but after each failure he simply assured me that we had to work harder. The fifty squats that were good enough for the old me would simply no longer be enough, and I had to push myself.

I tried so hard to please Richard that I almost pulled every muscle in my body, but it seemed worth it.

We finished the work out with deep breathing, and I drifted away to the sound of Richard’s voice. After what seemed like a few minutes, we went to the bathroom so I could shower. I washed myself down all over, even cleaning out my ass which is something I had never done. Richard was guiding me, and said I had to reach new levels, even in cleanliness.

As I was drying myself down, Richard went to get something, and returned with a handful of clothes pegs. My puzzlement must have shown on my face, because he went on to explain what they were for. I should have been shocked, or even resisted a little, but by then I felt that I could trust Richard in absolutely everything.

He attached some of the pegs around my abdomen, as he explained that it would increase circulation and therefore make my stomach area better defined. It’s hard to describe the pain I felt, but it was excruciating. Next, he attached a peg to each nipple, and the pain doubled. My every instinct wanted me to tear them off, but Richard insisted that they must stay on until he removed them, so I had no choice but to endure it.

He then had me go to the mirror and start on my hair. It had to be combed perfectly, and I should do it easily. However, every time I moved my arms, the pegs on my chest would twitch and send spears of fire into my brain.

I used some of my new hair cream and slowly rubbed it through my damp hair, but Richard told me I needed to be more vigorous. As my hands massaged my scalp, the pegs did their work and I had to grit my teeth to stop from screaming.

After an eternity, my hair was neatly combed, and I hoped that was the end. However, he then suggested I shave to get rid of my five-o’clock shadow. I would normally have waited and shaved in the morning before work, but did as he directed. I was now getting more used to the pain, or my tits were becoming numb - I don’t know which.

When I was finished, and Richard was satisfied, I felt like I had climbed Mount Everest. Every time I moved a muscle, I had a corresponding sharp pain from the pegs. Not only that, my muscles were starting to ache from my strenuous workout.

I turned to him, glad that this phase was over, but Richard took my chin in his hand, and turned my head from side to side. He suggested that my hair wasn’t ‘quite right’, and I should mess it up and start from scratch.

I couldn’t help it. As I slowly tousled my hair, tears came streaming down my face as the torture slowly got to me. For the second time in only twenty four hours, I was weeping in front of another man. I felt like something broke inside me, as I slowly did as I was told. The pain was there, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was crying and combing, and Richard stood by with a satisfied look on his face.

This time when I had finished, I held out no hope for release. I just placidly waited for permission or instruction from Richard, and I was so ecstatic when he looked me over and approved.

If I thought it was painful having the pegs on, it was more painful when he had jerked them off. I broke down sobbing from the rush of pain, and collapsed. Richard helped me to a chair, and soon his calm voice was soothing away the pain, and I once again drifted off.

When I once again focused on the room, Richard was telling me how proud he was of me. I started to gush back, and tell him how much of a useless slob I was, and how I could never be as good as he was, and what on Earth could I do to repay him.

At first, he refused my offer, and then suggested that maybe if I could just tell him something secret and embarrassing, something dark from my past, it would show that I really trusted him. This was difficult, but I dredged up my most horrible moment and told him all about it. I told him how at a frat party, I had practically raped a girl. Everyone pretended it didn’t happen, and luckily the girl didn’t get pregnant, or tell her parents. Richard listened to every detail, even asking me to imagine how she felt. I dredged up as much shame as I could, and he assured me I had done an excellent job. He also promised to work on it some more later, and he would help me make the guilt go away. I was glad.

He helped me up, and we went to the bedroom. He had obviously been busy in the afternoon, and he had sorted through my wardrobe. All those clothes he thought were suitable were hanging up, and everything he thought was no longer ‘me’ was in a large pile in the corner. He took me over to where one of my new suits was hanging, and we started work on learning how to dress properly. Even though we weren’t going anywhere, he had me dress formally from head to toe. We worked on tying my tie exactly right, how to wear proper underwear, even how to tug up my trousers when I sat so the knees wouldn’t ‘bag’.

Once I was dressed to his satisfaction, he told me to take my old clothes down to the incinerator, while he fixed us a meal. I put everything in garbage sacks and carried it down the stairs. It felt slightly wrong to be burning thousands of dollars worth of designer gear, but it proved I was ready for a new life.

When I returned, Richard had laid out some food for us. My plate was covered with a light salad and a few bits of cold chicken. He said he was also going to help me with my diet. I was so hungry; I think I would have eaten anything, even dog food!

There was another mirror check on the clothes and hair, and then we returned to the living room. I sat on the kitchen chair, while Richard helped himself to my easy chair.

Sunday Night Session

“Are you relaxed?”

“Yes.”

“You’re feeling calm and ready to go where I take you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ve been doing very well this week. You’ve obeyed every command, and I am very pleased.” I glowed with pride. Somehow, everything had been worth it.

“Now, I just want to check how ready you are to obey. I am going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer honestly. I would like it if you answered ‘yes’ to every question, but I need you to be honest with me.” I inwardly decided that I would do everything I could to make sure I answered every question with a yes, to keep Richard pleased with me.

“Okay, now imagine this. What if I asked you to come to work, with no underpants on? Your dick is hanging in your trousers, swinging freely. Would you obey?”

The word still had an effect on me, and my cock started swelling in response. I could imagine myself going to work commando style, and it didn’t bother me.

“Yes.”

“Say ‘Yes, I will obey’, just to make it clear.”

“Yes, I will obey.”

“Good. Very good. Now, what if I asked you to shave your head, instead of just getting a short back and sides. Would you obey?” My cock hardened a little more, as I pictured myself going in to work with a shaved head. It was a bit radical, but lots of guys did it. It looked tough.

“Yes, I would obey.”

“You are doing very well. I can see that you have learned your lessons well.”

I felt happy and warm.

“Now, what if I asked you to break up with Alison? I don’t like her, and I think she is holding you back. Would you dump her and never see her again if I asked you to?”

This was a bit harder, as I actually liked her. I don’t know whether I loved her, but with a little thought, I could accept that I could live without her.

“Yes, I would obey.”

“Very good. You are doing fine. Now, what if I asked you to go out with some fat, ugly client’s daughter? I want you to romance her, be seen around town with her, so we can get her father’s business. Would you obey?”

I shifted slightly on the chair, as I visualized the scene. Some ugly, buck-toothed slob. Could I be seen with her? What would people say? But I really wanted to tell Richard I would obey. I tried to think about kissing her, but it was hard. But then I thought, there’s always plastic surgery and fat clinics and the like. I could picture myself transforming the girl into the woman of my dreams, and that was fine.

“Yes, I will obey.” Who cares what people think at the beginning? They would admire the change in her, and praise me for seeing the diamond in the rough.

“Excellent. Now, what if I asked you to romance a male client in order to get a new account?”

I was almost jolted out of my relaxed state. I felt a little panic as I visualized what Richard was asking. I imagined maybe flirting with Mr. Thompson, and then kissing him. The thought made me shudder.

“Just relax. It’s okay. Let’s do a little at a time. Take a deep breath and relax.” I drew some air into my lungs and felt some of the tension leave my body. I didn’t realize how homophobic I was, but there were obviously some things I couldn’t do, even to make Richard proud of me.

“Now, just breathe deep, and imagine a young, extremely good-looking young guy. He’s a new client, and I’m just asking you to take him out for a meal. Can you do that?”

I imagined a good-looking guy coming into the office, and felt quite okay just taking him out to dinner.

“Yes, I will obey.”

“Good. Now, just imagine that I ask you to give him a kiss on the lips as you say goodnight. Could you do that?” I imagined that it could be like kissing my Aunt, or some girl I didn’t particularly find attractive. I visualized getting to his door and then giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Yes, I will obey.”

“You are doing very well. Now, just imagine that he is kissing you. He is pushing his lips against yours, and you’re surrendering to it.” I could see what he was saying, but it made me very uncomfortable. I had strong feelings about this. It was strange, but when the Captain stroked my dick, it was quite impersonal, but kissing a guy was much more personal. I couldn’t say that I would obey, and I dropped my head.

“Gary, you’re doing fine. I don’t expect you to be strong enough to obey everything I tell you straight away. That’s why I’m helping you. You still want to get better at everything, don’t you?”

“Yes!” I answered with enthusiasm. I still needed him to help me.

“Okay. So, just relax while I think about how to help you.” He then seemed to disappear for a bit, while I floated in the lovely warm.

“Gary, can you still hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Gary, I am going to tell give you some orders, some instructions, and you will see yourself doing everything I ask. You will obey, and you will find that you must obey everything I ask of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will picture yourself obeying everything I ask you to do. You won’t argue, you won’t resist, you’ll just go along with the story I give you. Will you obey?”

“Yes, I will obey.” His continued use of the ’obey’ word meant that my cock, which had been relaxing, once again sprang to attention.

“Firstly, I am going to forbid you to exercise. You will eat only junk food, and you will start getting fat. You can see yourself getting fatter and fatter, and you won’t be able to stop it. You will obey.”

“Yes, I will obey.” I could see myself getting fat, my greatest fear. People were starting to look at me in a funny way, and I felt uncomfortable.

“Now, I’m going to tell you to shave the top of your head. Just the top, so it looks like you’re going bald. You won’t be able to resist. You will be fat and bald, and people at work will see you fat and bald. You will obey.”

My stress levels were going up, but I could see myself walking around as this fat slob.

“Yes, I will obey.”

“Next, I’ll give you some thick rimmed glasses to wear. They’ll only be fake glass, but everyone will start thinking of you as unattractive. No one will want to be with you. You’ll eat your junk food lunch all by yourself. You will obey.”

“I could feel the tears starting to run down my cheeks. I could see myself obeying his instructions, and turning into a repulsive human being. Worse still, my cock was throbbing. The more humiliating it got, the more my cock was engorged.

“I will still be your friend. I will be with you. People will gossip, and ask why a fat slob like you would hang out with a great guy like me. Do you know what they’ll say?”

“No,” I sobbed.

“They’ll say you’re gay. They’ll call you a fat, bald, gay slob. And you’ll be like that forever. Will you obey?”

I was crying openly now, sobbing in my chest. My eyes were still closed, and I could see this new me clearly. I couldn’t answer.

“Tell me that you will obey. You will obey.”

“Yes, I will obey!” As I forced out the words, my dick exploded. Cum spurted out, but I didn’t open my eyes to see where it went. The past week couple of days had exhausted me both physically and emotionally, and this break felt like it went all the way down to my soul.

“That’s okay. Just relax and breathe. Good. You’re doing well, Gary. I am very pleased with what you’re doing.” As the teardrops still leaked, I still felt good when he complimented me. My spent dick collapsed and I could feel the sticky remnants of cum on my thigh.

“You have done really well. Believe me; I would never do those things to you. I would never make you ugly. I just want to help you. Do you believe that?”

I was so relieved, I almost started crying again. “Yes.”

“I only want to make you better, and to do that, I need you to obey. I need you to do everything I ask you to do, without question. Can you obey?”

“Yes! I will obey!” I could now agree with enthusiasm. As long as he didn’t turn me into that slob, I would follow his every instruction.

“Good. Take a deep breath and relax. Feel yourself calming down. You are a handsome young man. You have beautiful hair and a good body that is getting better every day.” I smiled as I pictured myself young and trim. Okay, so I had a new haircut, and I was wearing a suit, but I still looked good.

“I want you to picture the client again. He is still handsome, but maybe a bit older. Maybe thirty. I’ve asked you to entertain him. Can you obey?”

“Yes, I will obey.” I could see a guy a bit like George Clooney. We were chatting and having a drink.

“He leans forward to kiss you, and you let him because I have told you to. Can you obey?” After the stress and horror of the last episode, I felt more relaxed and could ’see’ it happening.

“Yes, I will obey.”

It seemed easy now. Some wall had been broken, and a kiss was nothing. So what if a guy kissed me? It didn’t mean there was anything wrong with me. I was just obeying Richard.

“You have done very well tonight. You have done better than anyone else, and even though there is still a long way to go before you’re perfect, I am happy that you have learned how to obey me.” I was warm all over.

“Tomorrow morning, you will not remember everything that has happened this weekend, but I will tell you the important things that you will remember. You will consciously forget everything else; although you will remember the lessons you have learned. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“On Saturday morning, I took you shopping. You wanted to change your look; you wanted to dress more like me, so I helped you. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“Then I took you to get your hair cut. You chose the style, but asked me if I thought it was okay. I thought it looked very good, so you got it cut. You loved your new hair. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“We spent the afternoon together, and then I took you around and introduced you to my friend, the Captain. You stayed the night with him, and he put you through some exercise. It was tough, but you had a good time and learned a lot. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“I picked you up this morning, and we came back here to your place. You wanted to throw out all your old clothes and things you didn’t want anymore. You asked for my advice, and I helped you, but only because you wanted me to. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“Then I helped you with your exercises. You didn’t look very good in the mirror, and you asked me to be your trainer. I helped you exercise, and then we sat down for a conversation. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“Then I asked you to do me a favour. I had a business friend visiting for the weekend. I had work to do, so I asked you to look after him. You were happy to help. I asked you to make him happy, and you said you would obey. Remember?”

I frowned a little. This was confusing, but I didn’t want to disappoint him. I would have done it if he asked.

“Yes.”

“You went out to dinner, and had a good time. He invited you back to his hotel room and you agreed. You had a drink or two, and then he leaned forward to kiss you. Remember?”

I could see it happening, as if it were a real memory. Although I let him kiss me, I felt my shoulders tense up again. “Yes.”

“Very good. You’re doing well. Just relax.” I took a deep breath. “After he kissed you, you told him you were straight, and hadn’t been with a guy before. You told him that because he was a friend of mine, though, you would do anything he wanted. You wanted to obey me, so you wanted to please my friend. Remember?”

“Yes.” I was a little close to panic.

“But he said he wouldn’t force you. He said maybe you could catch up with him next time he was in town. You were happy to agree. You left the hotel, and called me on your cell. I was disappointed, because you hadn’t obeyed. You hadn’t made him happy. But you promised to do even better next time. Remember?”

“Yes.” I felt the emotions wash over me - the relief when I didn’t have to go any further with the friend, the shame that I had let Richard down once more, and the overwhelming desire to succeed, to get past my own problems and obey without question.

“That is what you will remember when you wake up tomorrow. Now, you are going to sleep. You can’t sleep on the bed anymore. You prefer sleeping in a chair, and being tied up. It feels good and comfortable. Take this rope.” Something was placed in my hand. “Now, wrap it around you so you won’t fall over during the night.”

I didn’t open my eyes, but looped the rope a few times around my chest and stomach, then tied off the ends. My arms dangled down at my side, but I wouldn’t fall forward.

“You have done well today. You deserve a good night’s sleep. In the morning, you will only remember the things I have told you. When you see me, you will be overwhelmed with a feeling of awe and submission. I am your friend, and you will do everything I ask of you. Will you obey?”

“Yes, I will obey.”

“Very good. Now go to sleep.”

Monday Morning Shame

I almost didn’t go into the office the next day.

To start with, my entire body ached from the stress I had put it under the night before. I had never pushed my body so hard, and it took over half an hour just to loosen up enough to walk.

Not only that, as I got ready for the day it dawned on me exactly how different I was. It had only been a couple of days ago that I had been the scruffy, good looking boy in the office, no jacket and lots of charm. Now I was dressing up the way I would only have done at a funeral or something worse.

At least I was getting used to parting my hair on the wrong side. At first I wasn’t sure about getting such a radical, retro cut, but Richard had been right and it did make me look better. By the time I had finished using the new lotions and creams, I didn’t smell like the old me, but the fragrances made me think of Richard, and that made me feel good

I checked myself over in the mirror several times, each time desperately trying to think of a reason to avoid going in. But it had been my choice. I had wanted a new look. I wanted people to look at me and see someone as powerful and handsome as Richard was. So, with a deep breath, I picked up my briefcase and headed out.

There were only a few people there when I arrived, so it was a minor gauntlet I had to run. However, word quickly spread, and I noticed that there was a lot of traffic going by my door. People would have a quick glance in to make sure the rumours were true, and then I suppose they rushed off to tell others. Some friends dropped in and asked me if everything was okay, and I assured them it was. I told them I just felt like it was time I grew up, took myself more seriously, and they seemed to accept that.

Although when I did venture out into the front office, there was a perceptible lull in the general noise, and people were giving me surreptitious looks. I wanted to run over to Richard’s office and get some reassurance, but his secretary told me he was with a client all morning, and wouldn’t be back until noon. I returned to my office, and I could feel her quizzical eyes on me the whole way.

It came to a head later in the morning, when Alison turned up at my door. She stared at me, and I thought she was going to yell. Instead, she closed the door and pulled up a chair to sit near me.

She took my hand, and there was real concern in her voice as she asked me what was wrong.

I explained that everything was fine, and that I had never felt better. I was just cleaning up my act a little.

“A little?” she laughed. “You’ve had a major overhaul!” It was good to hear her laugh after all we had been through in the past week. We talked quietly for a while, and I assured her I was fine. We made plans to meet that night and really talk things out.

I said it was a fine idea. As she was leaving she turned to me and said that I should ‘wash that gunk out before you get there’. She indicated my hair, and I blushed. I did realize how different I must look from the guy she had been dating for over a year.

I settled down to work, and the shock of my transformation soon died to a low buzz. I was actually feeling okay, when I looked up to see Richard. He had been standing in the doorway, quietly observing me, but as soon as I became aware of him, I sprang to attention, embarrassed at being caught off guard.

He came over to me, again took my chin in his hand, and inspected me. I must have passed, because he smiled, and I felt a wave of joy. He gave my clothes a once over, and they passed too.

He motioned me to sit in the client’s chair, while he made himself comfortable behind my desk. He started with how disappointed he was with my lack of obedience the night before, and I remembered how bad I felt when I had called him and told him I hadn’t been able to go ‘all the way’ with his friend.

“I suppose I shouldn’t expect too much from you, though. I don’t know whether you can ever get your act together.” It was like the Captain’s whip across my back. He was saying that I wasn’t good enough, that I could never be what he wanted. This made me more determined than ever to live up to his expectations.

I begged him to give me a second chance, and he finally conceded. He told me to meet him straight after work, and he would put me through my paces. However, one more ‘failure’, and he would no longer be my trainer. I assured him that I had learned my lesson, and I was eager to show him how well I could obey.

I threw myself into my work that afternoon. By the time five o’clock rolled around, I was eagerly standing at my office door, all thoughts of my date with Alison forgotten as I looked forward to an evening with Richard.

When we arrived at his apartment, I was almost bouncing with excitement. It wasn’t until he suggested that we might as well do some ‘work’ while I was there did it hit me that there would be a repeat of last night’s exercise session. However, I let none of my misgivings show as I quickly stripped down and folded my clothes away.

Once again he had me stand in front of the mirror, and tell me how undefined my body was. He said that my grooming had improved, but I still needed a lot of work. He asked me to tell him all the things that were wrong with my body, and my mind raced to think of things to tell him. After listing the few of the things he mentioned the night before, he was still waiting patiently, so I had to dig up some more shortcomings. It was incredibly embarrassing, and my face burned with shame as I told him all the things I didn’t like about myself, but he was pleased when I had finished, and told me complete honesty was not only good, but necessary.

He then took me through another grueling workout, and then a long ‘cool-down’ session, where he calmly talked me through all the changes we were going to make to my body and my life, to make me a better person. I couldn’t quite focus on all he said, but it all seemed to make excellent sense, and I found myself agreeing to his suggestions with enthusiasm.

We once again went through the shower routine, with me really scrubbing myself down. Once again he produced the pegs, but this time I was ready for them, and the pain, though just as intense, was not a shock. He flicked my nipples to get them hard enough to clip, and that was excruciating.

We then went through the same routine. This time, though, he had gone out at lunchtime and bought a jar of the hair cream the barber had me use. I felt so honoured that he had gone to that extra trouble that I immediately started rubbing it in, determined that the pain wouldn’t stop me from doing a good job.

He was very pleased, but after the shave he made me comb my hair again, ‘just for the practice’. Thinking we would stop there, I felt my body tense in anticipation of the pegs’ removal. However, Richard produced a small set of clippers, and suggested I trim my wayward pubic bush.

The pain from the pegs was starting to really burn as I set to and trimmed the hair down to a shortish stubble. I supposed it did look a little neater, and Richard assured me it was a good start.

He once again snapped the pegs off, and again it was like fire coursing through my nerves. I didn’t think I could ever get used to that, and although I cried, at least I didn’t collapse.

We went back to the bedroom, where I was redressed. Then we went back to the living room, and Richard pulled over the wooden kitchen chair for me to sit on.

I remembered the chair from my first night here, when I had been tied with my own shirt and tie. I was just getting comfortable when Richard started talking, and I zoned out. When I was once again awake, I smiled at Richard, sincerely grateful for all the effort he was putting into making me a proper man. His suggestion was that I be tied to the chair - that way my hair wouldn’t get mussed up, and it would also be good for my posture. I immediately agreed, and Richard went to get some rope.

As he returned, he placed his hand on my shoulder, and I had an overwhelming sense of desire. It was so strong, I almost fell from the chair.

I knew how much he was doing for me, and I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do to repay his kindness, but I had to try. I begged him to let me suck his dick, and he refused. That didn’t stop me. I had a crazy, overwhelming desire to please this man. Nothing seemed to matter but getting his dick in my mouth. I felt myself salivating at the prospect. Every porn film I had seen where the whores begged to be filled came flooding into my mind, and I felt a deep emptiness that could only be filled by him.

I dropped to my knees, told him how much of a shit I was, and how I didn’t even deserve to look at his cock, let alone touch it. But I promised him I could pleasure him more than any whore, any woman, could do. I begged him to fuck my face, use my mouth in whatever way he wanted.

And he did. This wasn’t just me sucking him. He pushed his thick rod deep into my throat, and I had trouble taking it all in. He exploded in my mouth, and the taste was beyond description. I sucked out every last drop, and eagerly cleaned his shaft.

Then I was back in the chair and he was tying me up. I couldn’t thank him enough, so I just watched his every move with adoration. He must be the most amazing man in the Universe, and I was spending time with him. All bodily aches and pains were nothing compared with just spending time with him.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning was a nightmare.

From the minute I woke up and remembered what I had done, I felt like throwing up. Of course, I couldn't blame Richard for what had happened - he probably only let me suck him off to get rid of me. It was bad enough to make such a fool of myself in front of a man I admired so much, but to come across as gay!

I didn't expect him to ever speak to me again. I wanted to go and explain that I had no idea what had come over me. I had never done anything like that before, and I swore I would never do it again.

By the time I got to work, I felt that everyone could read it in my face. The stares I felt because of the new clothes and haircut was nothing compared to the paranoia I felt now. If anyone ever found out I would have to quit.

I avoided Richard that morning, much as it hurt me. I wanted to run to him and beg his forgiveness as much as I had begged for his cock. But it would be unbearable if he looked at me with derision or pity. I couldn't bear it.

I was making my way down the fire stairs, thus avoiding the lift and a chance meeting with Richard, when I saw him standing at the bottom of the flight. My heart skipped a beat. He had obviously been waiting for me, and we were alone so there was nothing to stop him from telling me what a pervert I was.

Instead, he smiled warmly, and asked why I had been avoiding him. He was a bit hurt, as he thought we were getting along so well. I couldn't help it, and blurted out all my shame for what I had forced him to do the night before. Instead of being upset, he took it all with good grace, and we sat on the bottom steps so we could talk.

He could see how stressed I was, so he suggested I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I did that, and then his voice led me into a nice, warm relaxed place. I felt calmer than I had all morning.

He was saying that I obviously had a lot of confused feelings at the moment, and he wanted to help me sort them out. He could only do that if I trusted him completely. I sleepily assured him that I did trust him.

He asked me if I could surrender, more completely than ever before, and obey his instructions completely. Again, I assured him that I would do anything he asked.

He then told me that I would be gay until nine o'clock the next morning. It took a little while for the meaning of what he said to penetrate my cosy daze, but I could feel my stress rising.

He calmed me by saying it was only for a few hours, then I'd be back to normal. But while I was gay, I could freely express all my feelings, especially for Richard. I could jerk off as much as I liked, and have as many fantasies about him as I wanted.

While I was gay, I wouldn't remember ever having sex with a woman, or ever wanting to. I would believe that I had always been gay, always looking for someone strong like Richard to be with.

While I was gay, I would totally accept and embrace all the changes Richard had made in my 'look', and be totally comfortable with the new me.

Then, at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning, I could go back to being the 'real' me.

This sank in, and I accepted it. I had been training myself to obey Richard, and I did trust him. He had shown me time and again that he really wanted to help me, so I surrendered completely to his suggestions.

He left me alone for a few minutes to process his instructions, and said I would wake up feeling refreshed and happy when I was ready. When I did open my eyes, he was right. I did feel a lot better. I headed back to my office without the pangs of guilt that had plagued me all morning.

I don't know whether there was any change in my outward behaviour, but I found myself noticing the guys in the office a lot more. Previously I had only used my charm on women or clients, but I actually found myself flirting a little at the water cooler with a good looking guy from accounts.

I was no longer avoiding Richard, although I did feel embarrassed that I had begged for his dick, I now remembered how thick and good it felt in my mouth. When I went in to see if he needed coffee or anything, I saw how really handsome he was, and I barely restrained myself from going down on my knees again.

I also found that while I stroked my exposed dick under my desk, I was thinking of Richard, and remembering how he looked when he was exercising, or the times I had been standing naked in front of him. I have to admit that I actually came, spattering the underside of my desk with semen. I had to push my chair back so it didn't drip down on my trousers.

The thing is, I didn't feel like I was acting gay, or in any way pretending. Inside my head, I was gay. I wanted to have sex with men. Maybe there was a little part of my mind that was screaming out that this was wrong, but I wasn't aware of it. I may have been acting a bit more effeminate, I may have been 'gayer' than a real guy would be, but I didn't know. My behaviour seemed completely normal to me.

I stopped by Richard's office just before quitting time, hoping I could go home with him. I was looking forward to our workout, and maybe this time I wouldn't have to beg so hard to let me suck him off.

Instead, he told me he had lots of work to do. He suggested I go and do my own odd jobs (buy groceries, get my shirts laundered with extra starch, etc.) and I could put myself through the same workout. I was disappointed, but I couldn't bring myself to argue with him.

I went out and did my shopping, and again found myself flirting with guys. When I went to drop off my laundry, there was a middle-aged woman behind the counter. I was explaining about the extra starch, when her son came out from the back room. He was big, muscled and sweaty, as well as good looking. He gave me a quick glance, and I smiled back. He then looked me over and gave me an imperceptible nod of appreciation. He then explained to his mother that he was stepping out for a quick break in the alley, just for some fresh air. He then disappeared.

I left the shop as quickly as I could, and slowed down as I passed the entrance to the alley. He was down the end, leaning against the wall. He had one hand inside his shirt, massaging his chest.

I probably would never have noticed these signals before. Unless it was a girl sipping her drink a certain way across a party.

Anyway, it didn't take much more for me to wander down the alley and join him in the shadows. Everything we did seemed quite natural, quite casual. I felt no angst or guilt. In basic terms, he produced his cock from his work jeans, and I knelt down on a flattened cardboard box (to protect the now essential suit) and set to with my mouth. It didn't take too long, and we both got some pleasure from it.

I then continued with some more errands and made my way home.

In some ways it was nice to have an evening by myself after the past week. However, I still missed being with Richard and his intense attentions.

After fixing a meal, I put myself through the same set of rigorous exercises that Richard had established. My muscles still burned, and it took all my willpower, but I managed to get through it all. The shower was a blessed relief, even with all the extra scrubbing. I could see Richard's point about trimming the pubic hairs, and actually thought about smoothing my whole body down.

After I dried off, it was time to start the next ordeal. If I thought that someone sticking pegs on me was hard, it was nothing compared to doing it myself. The movement of putting a peg on made all of the others 'shiver', causing pain. Placing them on my nipples was even more excruciating. There was a point where I considered stopping - telling Richard that I had gone through with the routine - but I just couldn't do it. I needed to learn to obey, and I had the feeling that he would know the truth if I shirked even a bit.

When it was finally over, and I got to remove the pegs and suffer through more pain as the blood re-circulated, I felt wiped out. I was physically exhausted, and it seemed to have taken twice as long as before, so I just thought about going to sleep. I got comfortable on my chair and tied myself firmly on. This was becoming an unconscious ritual, and I was amazed at how quickly you could get used to something so different.

My hand was still free, and as I drifted off to sleep, I jerked myself off thinking about making love to Richard. Because I was gay, and always had been, it was so natural to fantasise about such a good-looking, powerful man. I must have fallen asleep seconds after I came, and the cum just dribbled down my shaft and into my lap.

Cocktail Party

Of course the commands were still in place, so when I woke I was still 'gay'. I would have taken time to jerk off again, but the new grooming process took a lot more time. I was happy, mainly because there was no conscious conflict. I believed that I was gay, so I had no regrets about any of the things I had done, or been forced to do. I believed that the changes in my appearance were my own ideas, and that they improved my life.

In some ways, it was the most peaceful I’d been in over a week. Everything seemed to be going well, and I looked forward to getting to work and being with Richard.

I was sitting behind my desk, getting a few things straightened out early, when some inner clock told me it was nine. I was hit by a wave of nausea as my actions of the past 24 hours came back, but this time without the filter of Richard’s commands. I almost threw up on my desk as I remembered my casual encounter with the dry cleaner guy. I swear I could still taste his cum in my mouth, and I rushed to the bathroom to wash my mouth out.

I couldn’t believe that Richard could be so cruel! Part of me was going over and over what a great guy he was, and yet he had forced me to be gay. There must be a reason. My head was throbbing as it tried to sort out all the conflicting thoughts spinning around in my head.

I wanted to scream, but instead I ended up kicking the bathroom wall. My face was burning with shame as I remembered my sexual fantasies. My stomach churned as I remembered swallowing some other guy’s semen.

I came out of the bathroom determined to confront Richard. I would get him to take the afternoon off so we could sit down and talk about what was going on. If anyone could fix things, it would be him.

However, I didn’t get the chance, as I was dragged in to a meeting with another client. I was incredibly distracted, but I still had a job to do. It was a lot of routine stuff, but it was all time consuming.

It wasn’t until lunch that I was free enough to get away and corner Richard in his office. He spoke in his most concerned voice, and apologised for giving me such a hard time. Just listening to him made me relax. I was sure everything would now be fine, and I slipped into that special warm place where he would talk and I would listen and nothing else mattered.

He assured me that I had done well, and that was the most important thing. I had obeyed, and obedience was more essential than anything else. He got me to tell him what had happened, and what I had felt. He made me go into detail about my fantasies, and I still managed to blush, even while I was so deeply relaxed.

He kept repeating how good I was, and how well I had obeyed. He said he wanted to take me to the next level, but he wasn’t sure I was ready. I felt disappointed, but I was also cautious, so I just stayed quiet.

He then took me through a series of questions and answers, asking me whether I wanted to be better, whether I wanted him to help, whether I would do whatever it took. Of course, I answered ‘yes’ to all of these, as I dreaded what was coming.

“You are ready for the next, big step. If you can do this, then you can do anything. Take a deep breath and go even deeper down into the warm darkness. Just relax, all the tension leaving your body. Just listen to my voice, and know that you can trust me completely. I am only here to help you, and you want to obey me because it will make you feel good.”

As he spoke, I relaxed. I didn’t think I could surrender anymore, but I felt myself sinking even deeper.

“When you wake up, you will be my servant. All you will remember is that you have always been my servant, and it is all you’ve ever wanted to be. From the minute you wake up in the morning until the moment you go to sleep, your every thought is about pleasing me, helping me, making my life better. Nothing else matters. When you see me, when you’re with me, you feel alive. I am your whole reason for living.”

I tried to struggle, to sit up, but I was down too deep. Something told me this was wrong. I wanted to open my mouth and beg him to stop, but I was buried deep in cotton wool.

“There is nothing left of your past except where it includes me. You changed the way you look and dress because it pleased me. You put up with torture because I asked you to. You had sex with another man because I told you to. Deep down, you know that all you want to do is serve me, be mine. You want to give yourself to me completely.”

I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks as I felt bits of myself slipping away. My memories were so confused, I didn’t know what was real anymore. Maybe I did want to serve him. Hadn’t I done everything he told me to do without a fight? Maybe I was just a slave.

“Just relax. It’s okay to just give up. There is no longer any need to fight. You are my slave. That’s all you have ever wanted to be …” He continued like this for a long time, until I found myself agreeing with him, telling him I wanted to be his, surrendering completely to his will.

By the time he got me to open my eyes and sit up, I was his slave. I knew it, deep down. I wanted to get down and worship him. I wanted to kiss his shoes and thank him for letting me serve his every whim.

Richard seemed sublimely pleased. He had me stand before him while he wrote out a list of errands for me to do. He gave me the list, and told me to go and get everything done before he got home from work. He gave me a spare key to his apartment, and I left. It wasn’t important to tell people where I was going, or grab any papers from my office. It didn’t matter that it was only two o’clock in the afternoon. I just set out to do Richard’s bidding.

The things on the list were quite straightforward, except for one where I had to go to a costume shop. However, I was beyond questioning Richard’s orders now. I only knew I had to obey.

I got to his place with an hour to spare, so I set about cleaning the place up. I relished putting his things away, making his life clean and organised, and part of me ached with longing until I saw him again.

When he did get home, I was filled with joy. He was my reason for living, and just to be with him was all I could ask.

I made him a meal, and he had me strip so I could serve it to him naked. He placed some leftover food on a plate and had me down on all fours like a dog to eat it. Everything seemed normal, though, as if nothing he could ask me to do could be ‘wrong’.

We then went into the bathroom, where he showered. I was allowed to wash him down, and the touch of his naked body was wonderful. He playfully stroked my cock every now and then, and it was hard with desire. I wanted him to ask me to suck him off, use my body to pleasure him, but there wasn’t time.

After I dried him off, I sat him in a chair to shave him. I was nervous at first, but reminded myself how important it was to do a good job. I then rubbed his gel through his hair and gently combed it back. He was the most handsome man in all the world, and I was his.

We then went to the bedroom, where I helped him dress in his tux. He then reminded me that he was going to the big presentation party that night, along with all the other bigwigs from our company. I knew that I had been invited as well, and somewhere in my head a voice was saying that I should be there, that I was obligated to go, but nothing could keep me from serving Richard.

When I had finished wiping over his shoes, he then told me it was time that I got dressed. He had me bring in the chauffeur’s uniform he had me pick up from the costume shop that afternoon. It had a high collar, jodhpurs and knee high boots. There was also a pair of gloves and a cap. As I checked him over one last time in front of the mirror, I caught sight of myself, and felt proud that I looked like a real gentleman’s servant.

I drove him to the hotel, with me opening the doors for him, cap in hand, and Richard sitting in the back like the powerful person he was. When we got there, I jumped out to let him out. I recognised a few of the faces waiting outside the hotel, but I doubt they would have recognised me. Before he went inside, Richard had some last orders for me. He said while I was waiting I could play with my dick, but not in the car. And if anyone else wanted to join me, or help them out, I could play with their dicks as well.

He then gave me an evil grin and went inside with the other suited guests. I drove the car around to the back car park to wait for him.

Once I had parked, I got out and stood by the car to wait. I tried to resist the urge to play with myself, but I had no will left. At first, I just rubbed myself through my trousers. Then I thought that if I came, not only would I ruin the costume, but I might get stains on Richard’s seats. So I pulled my dick from out of my pants, and was happily stroking it in the night air. It must have been over an hour later and I was still hard and stroking when another driver came over.

He had taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up. He was middle-aged, but still trying to look like a rockabilly youth. His body was thick, but hard. He had dragons tattooed on his forearms, and his hair was slicked up with a careful wave at the front. He had long sideburns and a moustache. As he came up, I tried to put my cock away, but it was too hard. Anyway, he had already seen what I was doing.

“Looks good. Mind if I join ya?” He whipped out his own dick, leaned against the car and started jerking off. He made small talk about the party, and who we were driving.

After a few minutes, he asked me if I could help him out and stroke his meat for awhile. I answered with an automatic ‘Yes, sir’, and started handling his cock.

He was groaning and moaning, really getting into it, when he asked me if I had ever had a man’s dick in my mouth. I had to answer honestly, and say ‘Yes, sir’, and he indicated I should get down on my knees.

I took his warm rod in my mouth, and started sucking. The first time I had done this, I was infatuated with Richard, and I just wanted to please him. The second time, I had believed I was gay, so enjoyed it.

Now, I was just a slave, obeying my orders.

When he came, he held my head in place so I would swallow every drop. I was thinking I had finished, but he had other plans. He pulled out a mobile phone, and made a few calls. Pretty soon there were five other drivers gathered around, and I was expected to service them all. Some of it was boring, some of it was disgusting, but my feelings were repressed as I did as I was told. They asked me questions, and I meekly answered “Yes, Sir’ or “No, Sir’ to them all.

The first guests started drifting out, so the other drivers left. The first guy stayed, though, and was ready for a second helping. Once again he forced me to drink his cum, while he let out a contented sigh.

“Well, well, I see my boy has been having a good time.”

Richard had walked up on us, and I immediately got up and brushed myself down. I tried to look as presentable as possible, although it didn’t bother me that I had been caught in such a compromising situation.

The other driver started talking to Richard, which I felt was very presumptuous. He asked if I belonged to Richard, and he said yes. He then went on to say how well trained I was. They talked about me as if I wasn’t even there.

Finally, it was time to go. I helped Richard in, then climbed into the driver’s seat. Richard asked me if I had a good time, and I answered that I did. He asked me what I thought about the other driver, and I answered that I thought he was a bit of a caveman throwback, a ‘fifties wannabe. Although I was his servant, I still had some of my own mind and personality left.

Richard leaned forward and talked intensely into my ear. He told me that he had made me over so that I looked just like the other driver, only younger. He told me he had made me grow a moustache, sideburns, and comb my hair in a rockabilly style. He said he had gotten me tattoos on my arms, and made me take steroids until my arms were like tree trunks. As he said all this, I believed him, and felt myself changing.

I knew it was impossible, but when I looked in the rear view mirror, I could see a different me looking back. He had transformed me! Richard laughed, and told me to take him home.

We got back to his place, where I undressed him and got him ready for bed. He was telling me stories about how important the party had been, and how I’d been sorely missed. He then suggested that I work on his dick to finish off the evening, and I set to with a will. At least the practice of blowing off six guys already had improved my technique somewhat, and I think I gave him real pleasure.

He then gave me my last instructions for the night. I was to go back to my place, and sleep tied to a chair as usual. When I woke up, I would still look like I had been changed into the other driver. I was to stay in the chauffeur’s uniform, but let my dick stick out and I had to keep it hard. No matter what, I couldn’t change the way I ‘looked’. Then, at 11 o’clock, I would see myself as I truly was, and I could get changed and come to work. I would remember everything, I had done.

I just accepted the orders in my docile, slave way, waited until he was asleep and then left.

Eleventh Hour Crisis

I woke up tied to my kitchen chair. My head hurt a bit, but otherwise I was fine. As I was untying myself, though, all the memories came back. I was no longer a slave, or ‘gay’, so I was extremely ashamed of what I had done. I went to the bathroom to try and gargle away the aftertaste of so much cum, but when I saw the mirror, I stopped. Looking back at me was ‘me’, but not a me I recognised. I had a moustache and sideburns, my blond hair swept up in a rockabilly pompadour with a carefully combed wave at the front. My face and neck seemed thicker, and as I brought my hands up to touch my cheeks, I could tell that my arms were bigger, and I could see the hint of a tattoo peeping out from under my cuffs. Richard had somehow changed me. I totally believed I looked like the guy I could see in the mirror, no matter how illogical or impossible it may seem.

I tried combing my hair back to its neat, Richard induced style, but had no luck. The comb had a mind of its own. I lathered on the shaving cream, but couldn’t bring the razor anywhere near my lip. I rolled up my sleeves and tried to wash off the tattoos, but they refused to move.

I looked at the time, and wondered if I dared to go to the office looking like this. Then I noticed my dick sticking out at full attention.

There was nothing I could do. I paced around the apartment, thinking how impossible this all was, but every time I checked the mirror, there was this other guy looking back at me. The long boots were extremely uncomfortable, but I couldn’t take them off. I was frustrated and unhappy, but I was at the mercy of Richard’s orders.

The phone did ring, and it was the boss’s secretary checking up on me. She warned me that no one was happy with my absence the night before, and now I wasn’t in the office to explain, things were getting worse. I couldn’t tell her my real reason for staying home, but I promised her I would be in as soon as possible.

I was waiting in the bathroom when the clock hit eleven, and was amazed as the changes fell away. Well, not all. There was some stubble on my face where I had shaved around my invisible moustache and sideburns, and my hair was swept up into a pompadour when I had tried to recomb it, and my forearms were a bit red from the scrubbing I had given them, but all in all, I was back to me.

Well, the new me. I had a quick shower and scrubbed, put on all the new toiletries, combed my hair the way Richard liked, put on a suit Richard had picked out, and finally headed off to work.

Needless to say, I was not popular. I was called straight to the boss’s office, where I was given a stern lecture. I had no real excuse for being late, or missing the party, so I just hedged around the topic. He ended with his disappointment in me, and I left, determined to have it out once and for all with Richard.

I found him in his office, and there was an amused glint in his eye when he saw me.

I forced myself to be firm with him, and he let me ramble on for a while. I told him that I appreciated his help, but things had gone too far. I told him I liked him and respected him, and he probably had reasons for doing what he had done, but I wasn’t ready for the kind of changes he was promising.

I talked and talked, and was finally drained. I sat in his chair, feeling extremely weary. He came over and put one hand on my shoulder, and with the other he stroked my hair. I should have left then, but I didn’t, so before I knew it, I was once again floating away with his voice.

He drew me back to reality by drawing me to my feet. He had his hands on my upper arms, holding me tight. I was a little foggy at first, but looking at him made everything all right.

He leaned forward and kissed me. A deep, tongue down my throat kind of kiss, and I responded. When he pulled away, I felt like I had lost a bit of myself.

“I’ll leave it up to you. If you don’t want me to help you, I won’t. I just want to be your friend.” I felt like I had hurt him really badly, and as he ushered me out of the office, I had an overwhelming desire to apologise, but I didn’t know what for.

My head pounded all afternoon as I tried to get all my work done. I tried to see Richard again, but his secretary told me he was busy and couldn’t be disturbed.

By the time I got home, my headache was unbearable. I took a few aspirins, then sat down to think.

I knew Richard had somehow been controlling me, but I wasn’t sure what was ‘him’ and what was ‘me’. After this morning, when I looked in the mirror and swore that I had changed, I couldn’t trust any of my memories. What was real and what wasn’t? And did it matter?

Alison had called to say we were over, and she would drop off my things at the office. I could barely remember my feelings for Alison, and yet I was sure we had gone out together. I could remember having sex with her.

And yet a few days ago, I ‘knew’ that I was gay.

My head just kept pounding, so I took a few sleeping tablets, determined to get some sleep. However, as I made my way to the bedroom, I passed my exercise equipment, and realised I hadn’t done my workout. I was upset because I knew Richard would be unhappy. I set to, trying to stick to his rigorous routine, but the pills were working and I felt myself occasionally drifting off to sleep.

I kept going over and over in my head all the things that had happened, trying to see what was real and what was not. The only thing I really knew for sure was that I had sucked on Richard’s dick twice now. I drifted off into a dream where he was the King of everything, and I was just his humble servant, and I was happy that he was raping me.

My Ass Is His

It was hard to wake myself up. When I did come to, I was still lying on the floor near the exercise bike. I had collapsed at some point during my workout routine, and had spent the night on the carpet.

I still didn't want to go into work. Too much had happened. I knew that if I could just take a few days off to get my mind together, I could figure everything out.

But, today was the day they announced the promotion, and I had to be there. I vaguely remembered that I had wanted the job, but I now knew for certain that Richard deserved the job. If they were by some miracle to offer it to me, I would have no choice but to turn it down in favour of Richard.

I went through the ritual of grooming and dressing, making myself as perfect as I could. I had a moment of doubt when I looked in the mirror, and wondered what I should look like. Did Richard say to dress like this, or as a chauffeur, or what? But then I assured myself that the suit was fine.

I got into work, and settled down to the basics. I was still playing with my dick under the table, but that was no longer connected to anything. It was as natural as doodling or twirling my pen while I thought.

We were called into the main office about mid-morning, where we were greeted by the Board. Of course they offered Richard the promotion, and I was excited as he was. Then they asked me how I would feel, working in the same office, but now a junior to my rival. I said I had no objections, that Richard was the right man for the job and I still had a lot to learn from him.

Richard suggested that I might like to work as his personal assistant, and I could then move up to his job next time he was promoted. I agreed with enthusiasm, and although there were some strange looks passed around the conference table, the Board agreed.

We left with me walking a respectful step behind, as Richard was congratulated by the office staff who somehow already knew the outcome.

I followed Richard into his office. Any resentment I would have felt for anyone else was impossible considering my regard for this man. Instead of hating him for whatever brainwashing he had done, I could only admire his resourcefulness and determination. I was feeling angry, but there was no way I could direct it at him.

I closed the door behind us, and turned to face him. He told me to remove my trousers and underpants, and I meekly did. I folded them and placed them on the chair.

He walked over to me until there was barely an inch between us. His physical presence was dominating. His hand started fondling my dick and jerking on my balls. I did nothing to stop him. At that point, I don't even know if I wanted to stop him.

He leaned in closer and spoke intensely into my ear, while squeezing and jerking my stiff cock. "You know, I always resented you. You were the golden boy that everyone loved, everyone wanted to be with. Well, now you are mine. I own your body. I own your mind. I own your life. From now on, I don't want a thought in that pretty head of yours that doesn't come from me. Everything you do, or say, or feel will be because I allow it. Do you understand?"

He emphasised the question with a severe jerk on my balls.

"Yes, sir."

"You'll wear the clothes I like. You'll look the way I want you to. You will dream of serving me, and when I tell you to, you will serve my clients. You are just a piece of worthless shit that I have moulded into something reasonably useful. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, bend over the table." My cock was aching, and as it knocked against the side of the desk I thought I would cum. I heard Richard undo his fly, and could imagine his own thick cock hardening under his hand.

"Don't worry, boy. This is going to be the best sex you've ever had." Because every part of me only desired to obey him and make him happy, it was the best sex I ever had.

"I must obey, I will obey."

END

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