Training Chris and Mark Ch. 01
Glancing across the room at Blake, fully dressed on his knees, sucking energetically on the cock of a guy I guessed to be about 24 or 25 years old; I couldn't help but smile just a little. I liked Blake. He was a good guy and not a bad bar friend. A vice president of one of the city's two largest banks; whatever that meant, since banks had so many vice presidents, Blake could carry on an intelligent conversation and had sense enough not to embarrass me should we meet during our daily lives.
Blake and I frequented the city's trendy Happy Hour spots and other popular bars and clubs but for entirely different reasons. When we ran into each other at one of those earlier that evening, my usual inclination would have been to decline Blake's invitation to accompany him and the two young guys he picked up there back to his place. Sucking off some random straight or sexually confused guy didn't appeal to me at all, and the idea of paying to do so, which knowing Blake, was more than likely the deal, was laughable.
This night, though, earlier in the evening, when I was introduced to Chris, the tall, attractive guy Blake did not seem interested in, my antennae alerted me to take heed. When I encounter young men like Chris, who, regardless of their professed sexual orientation, broadcast a signal that tells me that with patience, control, regular training, and the right amount of discipline, they can be trained to be an eager and very pleasing submissive, I seldom walk away.
Chris was almost perfectly my type. Although I think some Black and Latino guys are incredibly hot, most of my subs have been white, ranging in age from early twenties to early thirties. Tall, blond, muscular, blue-eyed, Chris Bowers, I learned during conversation, was twenty-four. His hark-haired roommate, Mark Kelly, was a year older. They both worked as roofers. As it happened, Chris and Mark were both of Irish and German heritage and thoroughly working-class, as I preferred my subs to be. I couldn't detect a single effete gene or gay mannerism in Chris. His genes also kept him nearly hairless in all but the appropriate places. I suspected the same would be true for his roommate. I was sure Chris could tell me.
As Blake sucked Mark off on the other side of the large living room, my hunky roofer was seated on a two-cushion love seat beside me with his jeans and gray boxer briefs down around his ankles. As I'd hoped, my straight boy -- they were all boys to me -- began to blush earlier while we were drinking beer when I casually steered the conversation to what Chris would be doing for me while we were at Blake's. I planned for us to leave eventually and go to my place, but there was no point in sharing that with Chris early on and risking making him skittish.
I began by telling him to remove his t-shirt, drop his jeans and shorts, and sit sideways, facing me on the little sofa, with his left knee bent and up on the cushion so his junk was fully displayed for me. The blush which began as we talked spread across his handsome face and down his strong neck as he stripped almost naked and arranged himself as directed, with his already hardening penis and balls on full display.
The handsome, confident, muscular twenty-four-year-old I met earlier that evening looked almost like a timid, embarrassed teenager trying to hide his boner as he placed his hands in his lap to cover his hard cock. I decided my name for him would be Bonerboy, but I wouldn't share that with him yet. I've found it's always good to begin a confident, even alpha straight guy's training by slowly reminding him that beneath that front, he really is just a needy, horny little boy.
I quickly stopped Chris's attempt at modesty without raising my voice.
"I see you've boned up for me already. I thought you would. Don't try to hide your hard cock from me," I instructed.
He quickly removed his hands.
I was pleasantly surprised.
"That's okay," I replied. "You didn't know. Now you do. Remember not to do it again."
"Okay," a soft mumble, almost whispered as a reply.
"Your little cock really is quite hard, isn't it?" I asked casually.
By now, Chris was as red as his cock was hard.
"I said your little cock looks quite hard, Chris."
"I'm straight, man," he almost whined. "It's not small."
The poor guy couldn't look at me. I'd have to change that quickly and establish who was in control.
"Yes, I know. You and your buddy Mark both said you're straight. There's no need to be embarrassed. I like your hard little cock, Chris. Now, lift your face and look at me." My voice made clear my words were not a request.
Slowly, Chris lifted his handsome, blushing face up until our eyes met. Damn, he was hot looking. When my eyes moved, his followed mine down to the thick, five-and-a-half to six-inch uncut cock standing up so hard above his tightened ball sack that its fully displayed head with a tiny puddle of leaking pre at its tip was tapping against his rippled belly with each clench of what I knew was his virgin asshole.
"Yes, that is a very hard cock, isn't it?" I asked again softly.
"Yesss," he moaned so softly I almost couldn't hear, surrendering to me at last.
Before Chris even knew what I was doing, I thrust out my right hand, slid my fingers under his sack, and closed them around his balls.
"Wrap your fingers around that pretty little dick and stroke it for me," I commanded as I lightly squeezed his balls.
"Fuuuuccck...oh man," Chris said, not knowing what was happening. He looked up into my eyes again.
"I said beat your meat for me, boy," I said, looking Chris right in his eyes as I squeezed his balls tightly and rolled them in my fist.
The little smile on my face grew as he looked back into my eyes and obediently began to pump his hard cock.
"It's exciting to obey, isn't it?" I almost whispered.
He didn't speak, just gasped at my words as he continued to masturbate for me.
"I've got all sorts of exciting new things for you to learn, Chris," I almost whispered again as I reached over with my left hand, took his right nipple between my thumb and index fingertips, and began to squeeze and roll it. "And I think you will find all of them very exciting."
"But we don't want Mark or Blake to be there for your lessons, do we?" It was a statement, not a question, and Christ knew it. "We'll have Mark join us eventually, but not tonight, not quite yet."
I could tell Chris heard that and that it registered, but he let it slide by, not wanting to deal with its meaning.
He just sat before me, his lips parted, breathing heavily, stroking his leaking dick.
Suddenly, I released his nipple.
Reaching up and placing my hand behind his head, and pulled his face forward until I could whisper into his ear, "Keep stroking that pretty little cock for me, Christopher, but don't you dare cum without permission."
"I gotta cum," his whine almost made me laugh.
"When you're with me, you are never to cum without my permission. Do you understand?" There was not a scintilla of humor in my voice.
"Fuck, man..." The first hint of surrender rang through his words.
"We can quit now, or you can come to my place, Chris. Your choice. Just say, quit or your place. I have a great big dick that's just waiting to get you home. You wanted to earn money. I'll show you how hot young straight guys like you earn real bucks. Just say, quit or your place, what'll it be?"
"Awwww... oh, fuck man, I can't, I'm straight. Can't I do something else?" Chris tried.
"Quit or your place. Last chance to make up your mind." I said as I pinched his nipple.
"Owww, man... Please don't hurt my nipple...All right! Your place...your place!" he almost cried out.
"Great! Now, you need to say it properly; say, Your place, Sir." I instructed, smiling encouragingly.
There was just the briefest hesitation while Chris made the final internal compromises necessary for him to accept his new reality then, softly, "Your place, Sir."
"Good boy. Pull your pants up and get your shirt on. I can't take you out of here looking like a slut."
If my cock wasn't already hard, it would have snapped to attention just from the look on Chris's face when I said that. No one had ever called the once confident young alpha anything remotely approaching a boy or a slut. He would learn so many things and embrace so many new names before the night was over.
Chris, now visibly embarrassed, quickly pulled up his pants and adjusted his boxer briefs. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to disobey. I'm just... I'm new to this," he admitted.
As Chris continued to masturbate, I increasingly asserted my dominance, switching between verbally commanding him and physically manipulating him. "You're a straight boy, Chris, but you're also going to learn to enjoy anal play. Prepare yourself for that and other pleasurable experiences, like oral and spanking," I informed him.
Wanting to explore his limitations, I brought up the topic of 'gay for pay.' "Have you ever considered doing topless waitering for extra cash, Chris? Some guys are willing to pay for that kind of service," I suggested.
While Chris blushed, I noticed a dildo on the coffee table, likely belonging to Blake. I decided to test Chris further with it. "See that dildo? I think it would be great for your training. You could practice pushing it in and out of your ass, preparing yourself for real penetration."
Finally, I commandingly said, "You're going to use that dildo and masturbate until you're close to cumming, but you're not to finish unless I give you permission. Do you understand, Chris?"
"Yes, Sir," Chris replied, a mixture of fear and eagerness in his voice.