Date: Sun, 25 Mar 2001 18:13:41 -0600
From: Hands_of_J@yahoo.com
Subject: Dog on the Loose -- 14

Disclaimer:  The following story is a work of fiction.  If you are
offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man
relations or power and surrender scenes, please exit this page.  If you
are under age please exit this story now.

Copyright 2001 by Hands_of_J.  All rights reserved.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically
or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the
author.  All rights are retained.



Dog on the Loose 14 --

As the summer turned to fall Mark and I spent more and more time
together. Some nights we just had dinner, sometimes he and Bruno came
over late and spent the night, but more and more frequently he'd come
over with Bruno after their late afternoon run and the two of them would
leave the next morning. For a while he was quite careful to leave the
house early so the neighbors wouldn't figure out what was going on, but
after the neighborhood busybody saw him leaving the house with Bruno two
mornings in a row, we figured it didn't make much difference anyway.
Maybe the guy didn't tell everyone he knew, but it would have been a
first for him if he kept his mouth shut.

Karen was spending a lot of time with Kate, too. When they were in town
the four of us frequently had dinner together.  Sometimes when we went
out a waiter would figure out the pairings correctly and become very
attentive to our needs.  Most of the straight ones didn't seem to have a
clue until we started splitting up the bill and then they looked
confused.

Early in the fall I decided it was time to take Mark to a play party of
a Chicago S/M club I belong to. It turned out to be a weekend when Karen
and Kate were going to be in town, so there wasn't even a problem
finding someone to dog sit. Mark was nervous about the trip, but I
assured him nothing would happen that he didn't agree to. If he worried
about whether he would agree to everything happily, he didn't say so.

On the day of the party, I suggested that he wear a jock, Levi's that
fit well, boots and a regular shirt. We both packed t-shirts for the
party and some clothes for the next day, and I put together a bag of
toys. We left for Chicago early in the morning so we could take in some
of the high points of the city. We went to The Art Institute to see
their latest exhibition and had lunch there. The early afternoon weather
was delightful -- sunny and warm enough we no longer needed our jackets.
We visited some of the stores on Michigan Avenue then returned to the
car and drove to one of the good leather stores to check out all the
goodies -- both the merchandise and the eye candy.

The store was busy, with probably 15 customers and at least a half dozen
clerks when we arrived.  Mark had never seen some of the equipment and
was amazed at what was available. I picked up a dildo I couldn't even
reach around with both hands and asked if he thought we needed one like
that.  He was QUITE sure we didn't.

They had a good selection of leather vests, and looking through them I
found one I thought would look good on Mark. It had laces up the sides,
no snaps or buttons in front, and it felt soft but still substantial. I
handed it to him. "Try this on, Boy."  He grinned and slipped it on.  He
didn't look good; he looked great. I turned him around so I could see
how it fit in the back, and I liked the way it emphasized his butt in
the tight Levi's. He was one hot looking dude.  Maybe I was a little
prejudiced, but some of the other people in the store were checking him
out, too.

I patted him on the ass and leaned close to whisper, "You look really
hot in that, Boy." I reached around his shoulders and he let me slip it
off.  "Take your shirt off, Boy."   He turned to look at me in utter
amazement with his mouth open but not knowing quite what to say. We
locked eyes. "You have a problem with that, Boy?"

"Uuuuu, I guess not too much, Sir."

"So, do it." He licked his lips, wiggled his shoulders nervously, and
then started unbuttoning his shirt.  He pulled it out of his pants and
after a final look around, took it the rest of the way off.  "Now try
this again." We exchanged the shirt and vest and he slipped it on again.
WOW!   His toned muscles with their summer tan and the spread of black
hair was perfect with the vest. "Go look at yourself in the mirror,
Boy."

He gave me an embarrassed smile and walked to the mirror to check it
out. Even he seemed to be impressed. As he was turning to check out how
the back looked, a fellow that could have been an older version of Scott
came over to me. "May I hold his shirt for you, Sir?"  I looked him up
and down. He was compact, 5'8" or so, brown hair, blue eyes, clean-,
neat clothes. He seemed like a nice guy.

"If you have a little time I may have some other things for you to hold,
too." I told him. "What's your name, Son?"

"Brad, Sir. I do have time to help for a while, Sir." I wondered which
of us he was attracted to, or maybe it was both of us. The way he said
he had time "for a while" implied that he couldn't stay around and
become a pest, so why not?

I handed him Mark's shirt. "Keep it neat, Son."

"Yes, Sir." and he folded it neatly and put it over his arm.

When Mark came back from the mirror he looked from me to Brad to his
shirt and looked slightly suspicious. After the evening in the yard with
Scott, he probably wondered where this was leading.  "Mark, this is
Brad. He offered to hold your shirt for us." I didn't enlighten him
further, figuring it's good to keep a boy a little uncertain about
what's going on, especially when I wasn't too sure either.

"I think it looks good, Sir. I like it." He held the leather up so he
could sniff it. "Smells good, too," he added with a smile.  It looked to
me like the bulge in his Levi's was a little more noticeable than usual.
I knew mine was.

"There's something over here we need to check out, Boy."  I led him to
the rack of chains. Brad followed us. "What's your neck size?"

"Errr, 16, usually, Sir." He looked from me to the chains and back. I
was looking through the various styles on the 16-inch section when a
clerk arrived.

"May I help you gentlemen?" He asked, looking at me.

"I'd like a chain for my boy," I told him.  "He wears a 16 in shirts."

"Let's see if that works then."  He took a chain off the rack and put it
around Mark's neck and held the ends together. It looked a little too
tight to me.

"Let's see how a 17 inch looks," I told him.

He removed the shorter one and handed it to Brad. "Could you hold this
for a moment, please?"  The 17 inch one he picked up was a style I liked
-- lightweight, chromed steel with simple links -- this was something for
scenes, not for every day wear, after all. He looped it around Mark's
neck. "Here's a lock that would go with that, Sir" He picked up a
padlock that matched well and put the loop through the two end loops of
the chain and let it hang without snapping the lock closed.

"I think that's almost perfect. Go see what you think, Boy."  Mark
glanced around to see who was watching, and several people quickly
glanced away.  He blushed, but he walked to the mirror and looked at it
carefully.

"It looks OK to me if you like it, Sir." he told us when he came back.
He was more neutral about this than he had been about the vest.  I
unhooked the padlock and took the chain from around his neck and held it
in my hand, bouncing it a little, weighing it. I liked it.

"On your knees, Boy." I told him.

He took a deep breath, wet his lips, swallowed, sort of ducked his head,
and finally sank to his knees in front of me. Several sets of eyes
followed this development; two pairs of guys and one mixed couple were
making no bones about watching. I looped the chain around his neck and
used his chin to lift his head as I pulled the ends together. As I
slipped the padlock through the links and snapped it closed, I locked
eyes with him. "I love you, Boy." I told him quietly, just to make sure
he remembered.

He blinked rapidly a few times, "Thank you, Sir." he whispered.

The clerk was the picture of decorum and efficiency, hanging the first
chain back in the rack and doing random straightening until I motioned
Mark to his feet and kissed him lightly. Brad stood by, looking
downright envious.  "Anything else, Sir?" the clerk asked when I looked
back to him.

"Don't you think he needs a jock to match that vest?" I asked.

"That would look very hot on him, Sir."

"Would you like that, Boy?" I asked Mark.

He looked at the clerk and then Brad a little nervously, but admitted,
"I would, Sir."

"Right this way." The clerk led us to the selection of jocks. He picked
one off the rack. "This matches the style of the vest."  It was made of
the same soft leather and had a well shaped pouch with laces up the
front.

"I think that should work quite well." I looked at Mark, and he nodded
his agreement.

"What size do you need?"

"I usually wear a medium."

The clerk pulled one off the rack and handed it to Mark. "You can try it
on back here," he said, leading the three of us to a little nook at the
back of the store. It wasn't exactly a private dressing room, but unless
someone wandered behind the back clothing racks we wouldn't be seen.

I turned to Brad, "Why don't you let me hold the shirt, Son, so you can
help Mark take his boots off?

"Yes, Sir." Brad looked pleased to be of additional service. He handed
me the shirt and sank to his knees, unlaced the boots and held them so
Mark could pull his feet out. He set them neatly to the side but stayed
on his knees. I looked Mark in the eyes and then down at his pants. He
took a deep breath and undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pushed
them down his legs. Then, with one hand on my shoulder for balance, he
held each foot up and Brad pulled them the rest of the way off. He
folded them neatly and put them with the boots.

"We aren't supposed to let you try these on without anything
underneath," the clerk said, "so why don't you slip this on now to see
if you like it. If you do we can do the final fitting correctly."  I
handed Brad the shirt to keep with the pants while Mark pulled the
leather jock smoothly up his legs. It had a single strap that ran up his
crack and a t-shape in the back. The laced pouch in the front looked
good with Mark's equipment filling it out. There were short sections of
elastic on the sides to insure the waist fit well. Even with his white
jock showing around it, I could tell he would look absolutely great in
this.

Of course I used this excuse to manhandle Mark a bit, using one hand to
cup and manipulate the pouch to make sure it fit well enough and the
other to check out how tight the strap was.  While I was at it I ran my
hand up his belly, across his chest and tits to the chain to see how it
felt. Mark looked at me with an expression that let me know he knew I
was trying to get him even more aroused. It was working, too.  There was
a small mirror on the wall behind him. I turned him around so he could
see how it fit and so Brad could see his ass. "I think it looks great,
Boy.  Shall we get it?"

Mark was obviously pleased with what he saw. "I like it, Sir."

"Do you have someone to adjust the tightness on that strap?" I asked the
clerk.

"Sure.  If he slips out of the white one and puts the leather one back
on, I'll get Jim in here to do the final fitting."  He headed into the
back room to get the fellow who made their leather clothes.

"You made things fit pretty snugly, Sir." Mark grumbled with a smile.
He pulled both jocks down at the same time, revealing a very plumped
cock that was damp on the end. He separated the two and handed the cloth
one to Brad and carefully put the other one back on. I noticed out of
the corner of my eye that Brad got it pretty close to his nose in the
process of folding it.  I knelt in front of Mark and carefully adjusted
the edges of the pouch, made sure the strap ran snuggly up his crack,
and ran my fingers under the waist band to be sure it was the right
snugness. When I stood up the pouch looked pretty full and Mark was
looking at me with narrowed eyes and a slight grin he couldn't quite
suppress.

At that point Jim came in. He was about 150 pounds overweight and rather
scruffy. He looked Mark up and down, "I must say it looks pretty good on
you, son." he said as he settled heavily onto a chair.  "Come over here
and let me check it out."  Mark somewhat reluctantly went to stand
between Jim's huge outspread legs.  Jim checked out the fit as
thoroughly as I had, with more touching than was really needed, I
suspected. "Turn sideways and spread your legs."  Mark did as requested,
and Jim made sure the strap was laying flat in his crack and then
tightened it a little by pinching about an inch of the leather into a
loop. "I think if I take out this much of this strap it will be a great
fit. Don't you think so, Sir?"

I moved back and forth so I could see both the front and the back. "That
makes it look even better."  I told him.  "How long will that take?"

"About 5 minutes."

"Oh, good; we can wait."  Jim used Mark's hips to turn him so he was
facing away and played with the strap a bit more. Maybe he was marking
it, or maybe he was just having fun.  Then, without further ado he
hooked his thumbs in the sides of the waistband and pulled it down
Mark's legs.

"OK, if you'll hand it to me, son, I'll take care of it."  Without
hopping Mark had little choice but to bend over where he was and finish
taking it off, almost putting his ass in Jim's face.  I was quite sure
Jim enjoyed doing fittings.

"I hope he enjoyed that." Mark muttered when Jim was out of sight. I
couldn't tell if he was amused or pissed.

"You should be proud of yourself, Boy. You've added some pleasure to his
life today. Thank Jim for doing a good job when he's finished, and
you'll have made his day."

"Yeah, and he'll go home and have a wild JO session tonight." It sounded
sarcastic, but he said it with a genuine grin.

Suddenly he seemed to realize that he was standing there with very
little on and there was a stranger kneeling only a few feet away openly
staring at his equipment. He started to put his hands in front of
himself, but I intervened and pushed his arms behind his back and at the
same time leaned in and whispered, "Remember your status, Mark." As I
was backing up I played with his tits ever so briefly.

"Thank you, Sir." He kept his hands behind his back but gave me another
of those `I know what you're doing!' looks.  He was probably trying to
solve planetary motion equations for twinned planets in his head to keep
his cock calm.

I turned to Brad. "Did you like the way Mark's jock smelled, Son?"

He gulped and looked down. "I, uuuuhhh, ... I couldn't really tell,
Sir."   He didn't try to deny he'd been interested.

"Go ahead, Son, check it out.  See if it has a damp spot, too." Now both
boys were a little nervous. Brad glanced around to see who might notice
him sniffing the jock, and if Mark had been thinking about planets this
had distracted him -- his cock plumped up like it had just taken a deep
breath. Brad held the jock to his nose and inhaled deeply, then he
spread the pouch out with his fingers to check for a damp spot. He
touched it with his tongue when he found one.  Mark watched all this
with a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, his cock
gradually lengthening.

At that point Jim came back and handed Mark the jock with the shortened
strap. "Slip this on, Son, and I'll check out the fit."

Mark gratefully took the garment, skimpy though it was, and slipped it
on and adjusted it. He cleverly short-circuited Jim's plan though.
"Could you check to see if this fits the way you think it should, Sir."
I checked it thoroughly, including the spot behind his balls where the
strap was attached to the pouch. I had to make sure it was smooth there,
you know.

"I think it's fine, Boy. Turn around and check it out." Mark checked it
as well as he could in the small mirror.

"Looks good. Thanks for your help on this, Jim." Mark held out his hand.
Jim was probably disappointed, maybe flattered at the same time, but he
did shake hands and then headed back to his shop. Who knew what his
fantasies would be that night?

"I think you should go to the mirrors over there and check yourself out,
Boy."  I pointed to the big mirrors out in the open part of the store.
Mark looked at where I pointed and looked back to me, his brown eyes
almost pleading. "You'll like what you see, Boy." I assured him. He
swallowed, took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and walked to
the mirrors.

I followed far enough to see if anyone in the store noticed.  Our clerk
did, and one of two 30-something fellows shopping near the mirrors
encouraged him, "Looks really hot, Dude. Wish I had a body I could wear
those with." Two mixed couples checked him out. After a brief glance one
pair went back to their browsing, but both the man and woman of the
other one were openly watching him the entire time, as were a couple of
single men.

Mark turned around with a slight smile and checked out the room, meeting
the eyes of anyone bold enough to keep watching, and walked back into
the cubicle. "I like it, Sir."

"I don't think we can get to the Bed and Breakfast with you dressed that
way.  Why don't you let Brad help you put your clothes on."

Mark looked at Brad, "Would you like my old jock, Boy."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Maybe we can strike a deal, but help me get dressed first."  He slipped
the vest off, handed it to Brad, and got his shirt in return. When it
was buttoned Brad handed him his pants and then his vest when he was
ready. Finally he held Mark's boots while he put his feet in them and
laced them up for him.  "Thank you, Boy. I'll let you have my old jock
if you wear it out of the store."

A slow smile spread across Brad's face, "Sounds good to me, Sir."

"OK, Boy, stand up."  As Brad got to his feet Mark sank to his knees and
unlaced Bard's shoes and held them while Brad stepped out of them.  Brad
hesitated only briefly, then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and
slid them down. Mark held the legs as he slid his feet free. He
hesitated longer with his white briefs. They showed a considerable bulge
and a pretty noticeable spot at the end of his cock. He took a breath
and slid them down, letting his cock bob freely. It got mostly hard
while Mark held his shorts as he stepped out of them.  Mark put them to
his nose and sniffed, put them on the floor and held his old jock for
Brad to step into. He pulled the jock up past Brad's knees but then
said, "You can take it from there, Boy."

Brad pulled it the rest of the way up and adjusted everything the way
you have to with a jock.  When he was finished he looked at Mark, "Do
you think it fits OK, Sir?"

I hoped Mark would pass the tedious job of checking that off to me, but
no such luck. He checked the waist band, cupped the pouch in his hand,
and ran his fingers along the edge to make sure it wasn't binding, made
Brad turn around so he could check the ass straps, then patted him on
the ass, "Looks like a fine fit, Boy."  He turned him around and handed
him his pants.  After Brad put them on Mark held his shoes for him and
laced them, then stood up with Brad's shorts in his hand.

Brad looked sort of shy, "I thought maybe you'd like to keep those,
Sir."

Mark smiled at him. "I would, Boy. Thanks for helping us today."

"You're welcome, Sirs." he gave a little nod to each of us. "Now, I've
gotta run. I'm already late."  With that, he dashed out the door.

"Who Was that?"  Mark asked.

"Just some fellow who wanted to be around us for a while. I've never
seen him before.  I gather you haven't either."

"No.  It was fun to have a valet for a while, though."

We were both in a good mood as we left the store, and having several
sets of eyes watch us leave was good for both our egos. Mark may have
thought his embarrassments for the day were over, but I was sure I could
think of a few more.

_  _ _ _ _ _ _

With me as driver and Mark as map reader/navigator we found our B&B with
little problem. After checking in, we took a shower, cuddled and napped
for a while then dressed for dinner and the party.  Mark: white T-shirt,
the new leather vest and jock, Levi's, boots and a light jacket. I put
the new chain on him just before he put his jacket on, so it was pretty
obvious.  Me almost the same: black T-shirt, leather vest and jock,
Levi's, boots and also a light jacket.  When I didn't have the jacket on
you could see the wide black leather band on my left wrist.

The B&B owner highly recommended a particular restaurant -- good food
with wonderful desserts. It would have a mixed crowd but was very gay
friendly. It was about half way between the B&B and the clubhouse, so
that worked well, too. When we parked the car I got a paper bag out of
the back seat to take with us. Mark looked at me more than a little
suspiciously but didn't ask what it was. We made a great looking pair
going down the street.

The restaurant was busy, so we got on their waiting list, checked our
jackets and my bag and went into the bar. Mark was self conscious about
the chain, but when it didn't attract much attention, he relaxed. There
was one fellow, though, drinking alone, who spent a lot of time staring
at us.  We got seated quite soon, and I was glad to be out of his
sight.  The tables were in lines along two walls with a walkway between
them, so there wasn't a lot of privacy.  When we were seated, me with my
back to the wall, Mark so he could see the mirror behind me, the older
fellow on my right introduced himself as Glen and his partner as Ramon.
They were dressed a little like Mark and me, so they were almost
certainly kindred spirits. I was afraid he was going to want to talk all
through the meal, but after a few pleasantries, they went back to their
own conversation.

The menu did indeed have a number of tempting items. I settled on
lightly breaded, baked sea bass with a fruit salsa and Mark on grilled
salmon with a tangy mustard sauce. We ordered a bottle of good
Chardonnay to go with the meal. After ordering but before anything
arrived I went to the restroom at the back of the restaurant. I
concluded it would work nicely for what I had in mind for later.

During the meal the camaraderie we shared was much like at home -- easy
conversation about the day, topics of interest to both of us, and
whatever else came to mind. If Mark really thought about the way he was
dressed and the chain, he didn't show it.

When we'd finished the entrees we were pleasantly full, but since the
fellow at the B&B had so strongly recommended the desserts, I thought we
should try one. We decided to share a slice of cherry pie.  That worked
very well with my plans.  When the waiter arrived with the pie and two
forks, I told him we only needed one. Mark looked at me, eyebrow raised.
"And could you bring us a straw, please?"  Mark looked very suspicious.

After the waiter walked away, I looked at Mark, "Put your hands behind
your back, Boy."

Mark sort of ducked his head and dropped his eyes to the table. "Yes,
Sir." he said, not looking at me. He sat forward on the chair to give
himself some space and put his hands behind his back. Without turning
his head, his eyes checked out the tables on either side of us, and he
looked in the mirror behind me to see if anyone was watching. The
fellows on either side were so carefully `not watching' they had to have
heard me. No one else had noticed yet.  I cut a bite of the pie and was
holding it up for him just as the waiter arrived.

"Here's your straw, Sir."  He was keeping such a neutral face it had to
be a big effort.

I ate a couple of bites, then noticed that in spite of not liking to be
fed in public Mark was eyeing the pie again.  I fed him another bite.
Glen finally gave up ignoring us. He looked at Mark, "Good pie, Son?"

Mark looked down and responded quietly. "Yes, Sir."  I stripped the
paper off the straw and put in it Mark's glass and held it up for him to
drink.  Mark finally met my eyes again while he was sucking on the
straw. "You fiend!" would have been a pretty accurate translation of his
expression.

When we finished the pie I did something I used to absolutely hate when
I was a kid and my mother did it to me.  I licked a little part of my
napkin and reached across the table and wiped his mouth.  That may have
been the first time I actually experienced Mark glaring at me, but he
did let me do it.   "That was good pie, wasn't it, Boy?"

"Yes, Sir." he said quietly, looking down again.

"Remember that paper bag I brought with us?"

He looked up at me. "Yes, Sir."

"I left it at the coat check with our jackets when we came in. Go get
it, take it to the restroom and put on what you find in it."  The
expression on his face was a combination of fear and curiosity.

He took a deep breath and got up. "Yes, Sir." he sort of mumbled.

 "Pardon me, Boy? I didn't quite hear you."

"Yes, Sir." clear this time, and just loud enough for me and a couple
more people to hear. The coat check was close to the front of the
restaurant and the restrooms were at the back, so after he retrieved the
bag he had to walk all the way past the bar and between the rows of
tables to get to his destination. He probably felt like every eye in the
place was watching him.

I'm sure he was chagrinned when he got there and found out there was no
lock on the door and that the stall didn't even have a door.  He was
going to be putting on a harness with a strap to go down his crack that
connected to a cock ring. Another strap went from the top of that ring
to one near the bottom of his sternum.  That, of course, meant his had
to take his vest and T-shirt off and had to drop his pants and jock at
some point, but he wouldn't have to strip completely.  I'd try to get
him to tell me about the experience on the way to the party, assuming he
would speak to me at all.

After he disappeared behind the door I carefully watched the traffic.
Two men from different tables headed that way at different times. Both
seemed like pretty normal guys. They would probably carefully `not
watch' while straining their peripheral vision to see all they could.
Then the man who stared at us for so long came from the bar and headed
to the back. I didn't like what I sensed from him -- deep anger, pretty
aggressive, and lots of arrogance.  When he went in the door I got up,
and Glen said, "Yeah, I'd make sure Butch behaves himself if I were
you."

When I entered the restroom, though, Butch was on his knees and bent
over, clutching his crotch groaning and moaning. I don't think he even
noticed me come in. "You OK, Mark?"  I wanted this to be on a Mark and
Bill level if there was a problem.

"I'm fine, Sir. I'll be back to the table in a couple of minutes."  His
voice was a little grim, but it's tone clearly indicated I should go
back and wait for him, sort of like the one kids use with their parents
when they feel like they are being babied.

When I got back to the table, "He had the situation under control." was
the only enlightenment I provided.  When Mark came back the harness was
pretty obvious under the shirt if you looked at all, but he seemed quite
calm, maybe even a little amused. I noticed the cock ring he had been
wearing had migrated to his right wrist. The look he gave me, though,
warned me not ask questions.

We flagged down the waiter and I paid the bill. Glen shook hands with
both Mark and me, "It was nice meeting you guys. You look great, Son,
and you've put up with a lot from this s.o.b. tonight." he said, tilting
his head toward me, but grinning.

"Thank you, Sir." Mark looked a little abashed but pleased.

We shook hands with Ramon, went to the coat check for our jackets and
headed out. Mark was feeling really good; he took my hand as we walked
the two blocks to the car. He'd never done that in public before.

Again with me driving and Mark navigating we found our way to the
clubhouse with no problem.  On the way I asked, "Want to tell me what
happened in the rest room."

He sort of laughed. "Well, you checked it out, so you know it had no
lock and the stall didn't even have a door. Not only that, the urinal
was in front of the stall, so anyone who came in to piss didn't have to
go out of his way to see what I was doing.  When I found the harness I
was relieved; at least I wasn't going to have to strip completely.  I
took off my vest and T-shirt and hung them on that little hook and then
put the top part of the harness on and got it adjusted.  A couple of
guys came in but they pretty much ignored what I was doing.

"Then when I had my pants and jock pulled down to pull that back strap
through and put the cock ring on, that other guy came in. He walked
right up to the front of the stall and just stared at me.  I tried to
ignore him, but it didn't work. `I see the cute little faggot boy is
getting dressed for his Daddy.' he said.

"I hadn't gotten the cock ring on but quickly pulled up my jock and
pants so I wouldn't be hobbled if he wanted to make trouble. `Why don't
you just get down on your knees and suck my cock, faggot?' As he was
saying that he'd unzipped his pants and pulled his cock and balls out.

"I stepped closer to him, sort of like he expected, then since they were
so convenient, I just grabbed his nuts and pretended they were one of my
hand exercise balls."

"Ouch! That's why Butch was on the floor groaning when I came in,
right?"

 "Right. By the time you came in I had dropped my pants again and was
getting the harness on correctly.  You left and I finished dressing,
then I decided that I liked the way you made Clay apologize when he was
rude. When I came out of the stall the guy, Butch, you called him, was
sitting back on his heels but still cradling his balls. I stepped up to
him, grabbed a hand full of hair and lifted. `On your feet, you.' He
scrambled to his feet. `Back against the wall there.' I pointed at the
wall by the urinal and he backed up against it with his cock and balls
still hanging out, his hands beside him pressing against the wall.

"I grabbed the neck of his shirt to hold him there and grabbed his nuts
with my other hand. `Please don't, Sir.'  He pleaded. He was scared and
shaking.

"`I think you owe me an apology, punk.' He didn't question that.

"`I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to upset you, Sir. Please let me go,
Sir.' I could tell he really wanted out of there.

"`I have a suggestion for you, punk.' I rolled his balls around a little
in case he'd forgotten where they were.

"He got a little pale. `What's that, Sir.'  I think he would have done
almost anything to make sure I didn't squeeze again.

"`What you tried to do is technically rape, and I don't like that.'

"`I'm sorry, Sir.  I didn't mean to upset you, Sir.'

"`You're repeating yourself, punk.  Anyway, there are men out there who
like things rough. Find a group of them to play your games with.'  I
rolled his nuts around a few more times while looking straight in his
eyes.

"`Yes, Sir, I'll try to find some of those, Sir.'  I stopped rolling his
balls and gripped them firmly.

"`Now, punk, I'm going to squeeze your nuts again to help you remember
your promise.  I want you to keep your hands on the wall and keep
looking me in the eyes.'

"`Yes, Sir.' he was sweating heavily now, and I could smell the fear.  I
started tightening my grip, but he did as he was told, making little
grunts occasionally. Sweat was pouring off him. I tightened my grip,
then tightened some more. He was getting pretty pale; I thought maybe he
was going to faint, but he held his position, except it looked like he
was trying to dig into the wall with his fingers.

"`Good boy. Think you can remember what I told you?'

"`Yes, Sir.'  His eyes rolled back and he started grunting and panting
and I realized he was cumming. I squeezed a little tighter, and he
started cumming even harder.

"After his cock quit twitching, I gradually released his nuts, but kept
him against the wall with my hand at his neck.  Finally he opened his
eyes and looked at me again. `I didn't know I could do that, Sir!!'

"I was pretty amazed, but I kept my expression hard. `Find the right
group, man, and you can do that any time you want.'

"`Yes, Sir.  I'll look for them, Sir.' this time he sounded like he
meant it. I let go of him, and he slid down the wall, his hands
clutching his balls again. I washed my hands, then left without looking
back. Did he come out after I did?"

"I don't remember seeing him at all after you came out. He may have been
waiting for his balls to quit aching."

We rode in companionable silence for a couple of blocks. Then he said,
"There's something you should know that just hasn't come up in our
conversations, Bill.  When I was a freshman in high school there were
some bullies who were making life pretty miserable for me and several
other guys.  They were bigger and older than any of us, and I was the
runt of the group that first year, so they picked on me a lot.

"My dad figured the only way to really solve the problem was for me to
get some training in martial arts.  I loved the lessons, and practiced
so much that inside of six weeks I knew enough to take care of myself at
school with no problem. I really liked it, too; it was something a
little guy could do well.  By the time I stopped taking lessons I was
quite advanced.  I didn't keep it up when we moved in down the street
from you, but even if he hadn't provided such an obvious opening, I
think I could have handled Butch pretty easily.  But thanks for checking
on me." He leaned over and kissed my ear.

 "You are a man of surprises," I looked at him and grinned.

"And so are you," he said, cupping his crotch with one hand and
fingering the chain with the other, "but the next time we have dessert I
think I'd prefer that you lick my face instead of licking your napkin
and using it like my mother used to."  I laughed, but I think he meant
it.

"Now we need to look for a parking place," I told him. "We're close
enough to the club I'm recognizing things."

--------------------
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