Gifts
by Touchstone
“That one,” Nathan says, pointing to the man sitting three stools away from the end of the bar, hunched over his drink. I don’t have to turn to look, the image is more than clear in Nathan’s mind. Caucasian, mid-thirties, possibly, medium build in a blue shirt with a black tie. The unkempt stubble growing under his chin testament to the fact that he hasn’t shaven in quite a while, the mournful way he stares into space testament to the fact that he is going to be easy prey. Not that Nathan picked him because he wanted something easy tonight. On a good day, possibly with a lot less clothes I could tell that... Barry Karlsworth, 34 would definitely look a lot better. I can already see him on his knees in front of Nathan- it’s what Nathan wants, and by the end of tonight, he was going to get it.
“I’ll signal you when it’s time,” I tell Nathan.
“Make me proud, boy.”
In the dim light of the bar, no one can see my face flush as I get up from my chair, leaving my half-finished drink with Nathan as I start over towards Barry, catching a few glimpses into his mind as I draw closer.
Recently divorced. Messy divorce, in fact. Call that a plus in the ‘easy’ column. Unfortunately he’s also not quite ready to take the plunge into batting for our team just yet, nor is he even close to swearing off women. He’s here hoping to pick up some chick, score a pity fuck perhaps if he relays his sad story to anyone who’d listen. After all, it worked three nights ago. Too bad it’s not going to work tonight. If only he’d spent less of the past few hours looking miserable and actually make an effort to talk to one of the women here- that blonde I pass as I approach him for example, her interest in him is so obvious that I have to consciously block her out- that seat beside him might have been taken by now and Nathan might have looked at someone else.
Well no point dwelling on the might-haves. I’m here now, sitting on the stool beside him. We’re both in the here and now. And Barry’s going to come out of tonight being all the better for it. One way or another.
“Bartender, get this man a drink,” I call out as soon as I sit down. Tony gives me a wink and starts to prepare the special. Maybe Nathan DID want something easy tonight, else he wouldn’t have picked one of the few bars in town run by a guy who’d spent a night in bed with us.
Barry looks up from his drink, surprised, giving me a once over. Even without reading the thoughts pouring from his head, I can already sense his disappointment that the person generously buying him a round is a man. Drunks are easier to read. Sometimes when Nathan wants the challenge we hit coffee shops instead. Barry isn’t quite at la-la land but he’s close. So while I wouldn’t say I’d be able to swim inside his head and dig up events from when he was five with the greatest of ease, other details like that he’s a lawyer at some big firm at the city half an hour away, or that he loves baseball and horror movies are as easy to scoop out like I was plucking them out from a tree.
“Thanks,” he says as he receives the drink.
“You looked like you needed it,” I say, which is the honest truth. Aside from the fact that I already know that he needs it, of course. Now looking straight at him, I can tell that Nathan had probably already singled him out from the moment he came in tonight. He has a strong, square jaw, an otherwise stern expression chiselled onto his face now sullied by his depression. His dark brown eyes search my face for the possibility that it might be familiar. It’s not. Nathan wants those eyes looking up at him desperately while those lips of his wrap around his cock. That’s what he’s going to get.
His shirt is partially drenched from the rain outside. He almost went to the gym today, a habit he started when Sheila – his ex had started hinting that he was gaining some weight. He’d remembered it just as he’d pulled up in front of the gym, taking an immediate detour here. Although he hadn’t been up for it tonight, the few months he’d put into it had definitely paid off. He was no bodybuilder by any stretch, but he had some power in those arms from those weights he’d been lifting, even if he still had a little bit of belly left to lose. Maybe his night with us will inspire him to do just that.
“You have no idea,” he tells me. “I’ve had the crappiest month ever.”
I try not to snigger. By now I’ve seen every last detail of the past month. Used to be hard to digest so much information so fast, but with Nathan’s help- and a lot of practice, I’ve gotten used to it. I can see the co-worker he found in bed with her, the fire hydrant he crashed into because he was crying while driving, the big public fight he had with Sheila in front of his relatives at the Christmas party, everything. More ammunition for me to make this easy.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask, knowing full well what the answer is. I may not have Nathan’s power of persuasion, but the point of me doing this part tonight is because I can tell that he wants to talk without any nudges anyway. I’m better suited for people like Barry because I can say things he wants to hear. I count myself lucky sometimes that I can do what I can do. It might be the only reason why Nathan keeps me around.
As expected, Barry sets his entire tide of grief upon me, a long story that eats up the better part of two hours as I nod when he needs me to, verbally agree when he feels like he wants that, and eventually pat him on the back once he starts warming up to me. It’s ironic that I used to be the quiet kid who could never make small talk let alone friends. My ‘gift’ would have made me all the friends I wanted in school had I learned to use it right.
But then again, if I had, Nathan would never have found me the way he did.
As Barry talks, I keep the drinks coming. A man who wasn’t dying for a shoulder to cry on would probably notice that the person buying him drinks so generously was barely touching his own glass. Barry was so preoccupied with bitching about the ex-wife that his original goal was pretty much all but forgotten before long, only briefly coming back to the fore when he checks out the blonde from earlier leaving the bar with another man.
Too bad for you, Barry. She could have been riding you halfway to heaven by now. But then you won’t miss her, or your ex-wife for that matter by the time we’re done.
Barry starts to nod off, his speech getting more and more slurred, his sentences losing coherence. Took two hours, but then having him slump off immediately with the first drink would have caught too much attention. Tony only does that for us if it’s near closing time, or if there aren’t many people left in the bar who’d pay attention anyway.
The bar is still full of customers by the time me and Nathan help Barry to our car, putting him in the back seat where he snores peacefully as we drive back home. I fill Nathan in on all the details as I drive, trying not to let his hand on my thigh or the pride I feel when he praises me for another job well done distract me from the road.
The rain grows heavier as I drive, reaching a full downpour as we pull into the garage. Good thing Nathan has one, as the torrent of rain would probably wake our passenger up if we had to carry him from outside the house into the living room. Barry is groggily asking us where we are as I lead him up the stairs into the living room.
“Shhh, it’ alright, Barry,” I reassure him as I lay him down on the couch. “You’re alright. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I stroke his short hair softly, getting a murmur of assent as I start up the stairs after Nathan, who is growing impatient, the images of Barry at various stages of submission growing more and more vivid as I approach him. As we enter the bedroom, I put a hand on his crotch, groping at it gently to let him know I’m just as eager as he is. Smiling back at me he guides me over to the full sized mirror, standing behind me as he starts to unbutton my shirt.
I stare back at my own reflection as I hear him whisper in my ears, “You’ve been such a good boy, Tyler.” I instantly feel the heat rush to my crotch to meet his other hand, toying with me through the fabric as his mind reaches out and touches mine, preparing me for what’s to come. As the both of us gaze at the person I’ve become since he found me, I hear his thoughts muse over how I’ve changed from the disillusioned, antisocial college kid who had resisted him like no one had before to the loyal, obedient 40-year old who approached and calmed people with the familiarity of a father.
We’ve been doing this for almost twenty years. Time flies when you’re having fun.
It’s not like I was unattractive when I was younger. I had my fair share of the whole college experience, had two steady girlfriends even. My short black hair is graying now, receding slightly over the temples, my brown eyes wizened somewhat with age though if you looked hard enough, you might still see the boy shaped by Nathan’s powers in this bedroom so long ago, still desperate for attention and eager to learn everything this man would teach. My once light, if somewhat gangly frame is definitely something we never miss, I was filling out Nathan’s flannel shirts and soon his jeans in months. We still share clothes- underwear, even, to this very day.
As my shirt falls I feel his hands admiring my hair-covered chest, stroking my soft gut. Though I’m slightly shorter than him, the full beard on my face and the deep, fatherlike quality of my voice would make me to strangers every bit the daddy Nathan is.
But I will always be his boy. The whimper I emit at his mere touch a testament to that fact.
I keep my head straight as he retrieves the leather collar from his pocket, strapping it around my thick neck where it so rightly belongs. All is right with the world again. I am once again slave and he is once again Master. The sheer erotic thrill of being surrounded by his embrace, the feeling of leather against my skin sends a shiver down my spine, a pleasure like no other. A pleasure I would soon be sharing with a new brother.
The mere thought of tasting Master’s cum in Barry’s mouth has me unzip my pants before Master gets there. The sooner we get ready the sooner Barry can join in after all. Master chuckles pleasantly at the sight of my cock springing free as I pull down my pants and my white briefs with them. There was a time where he would have disciplined me for such impatience. Now, however, he was every bit as eager to begin work on Barry as I was, and twenty years of waking up in his embrace has more than filled the void left by Tyler, straight college student. I was irrevocably and permanently his, as dependable and as loyal as a dog he’d raised himself.
I retrieve my black leather thong from the wardrobe, slipping it on as I watch Master undress, admiring the musculature of his back as he bends down to slip out of his jeans. I can smell the sweat off his glistening skin from where I stand, almost taste it in the air. I watch with eager anticipation as he slips into his leather pants, taking it slow because he knows I’m watching. Looking back every time, the sheer sight of his naked chest makes me wonder how I could have ever hoped to resist him back then. Pressed against such ample warmth, firm and radiating sheer masculine power, it was only a matter of time before I would have caved anyway, broken and reshaped by this massive bear of a man, forever now a god in my eyes. As I am drawn to him by his gravity, I fight the urge to nuzzle at the gray forest of hair on his chest or the thick beard on his face. My mind races as I breathe in his musk, my will grabbed by the reins as he grabs me at the back of my head and pulls me in to a dominating, possessive kiss. He is only ten years older than me but the raw power he carries in that beautifully sculpted form has me moaning in his arms like I were a child ready to be disciplined. As our kiss regrettably ends I drink in the warm smile on his face, framed by that thick gray beard I love so much. His hypnotic blue eyes stare into mine and I feel that familiar sense of falling taking over me again.
I let it take me. I let him take me. I can’t imagine wanting anything else.
“There’s a poor lost puppy downstairs waiting for us,” he says as he finally lets me go, his fingers trailing up my body until it cups my chin. I imagine Barry suckling at those thick, rough fingers and I finally feel my first twinge of jealousy for the night. But then that’s why I’ve learned to love my gift in the end. Not just because it pleases Master that I’m the perfect tool for catching lost puppies like Barry, but also because while I read Barry’s mind as he succumbs to my Master like all those before him, I succumb with him. It’s been like this from the start. Every night that Master and I show another man their place before him, I am experiencing it all for the first time with them, falling deeper and deeper every time.
“We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting now would we?”
“Yes Master,” I breathe. Remembering myself before I get lost in yet another haze of desire to feel his body pressed against mine, I recollect myself, and follow him out the door.
END