Date: Sun, 11 Jul 2004 16:53:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: "( )" <siktici@sbcglobal.net>
Subject: Bath, Bed, and Beyond - Bed Part I:  The Need

Bath, Bed, and Beyond -- Bed, Part I: The Need

Siktici Copyright 2004

Through the foggy night, Bernie trembled from anticipation, in the
distance a motorcycle revved. When he reached its origin, he saw the
glow of a cigar, whose owner sat on a Harley.

"Get on" Gary said without looking back. Bernie wrapped his arms
around Gary, straddled the bike's vibrating engine, and watched the fog
fly by.

 "Stay here," Gary said and flipped a light on his sparsely
furnished condo. Its hardwood floors held practically nothing and harsh
light washed starkly white walls. Bernie stared at a fairly new computer
sitting on an old secretary's desk. A desk lamp just as old sat near
the monitor, which was framed with pictures of men dressed (or barely so)
in leather. A library stretched the length of the room and stacks of
papers sat here and there.

Gary saw Bernie looking at the stacks and explained, "Occupational
hazard. I'm a magazine editor." He's not here to learn about me,
Gary thought; he's here to learn about himself. That's why they all
come. They come, disappoint, and leave. Will he break the cycle? God
help me, I hope so."Get undressed and leave your clothes folded at the
door," Gary said and moved down a hall. "When you're done," he threw
over his shoulder, "come back here."

 Bernie's cock grew hard at the orders. He quickly undressed
and hurriedly folded his clothes. He heard Gary in the room at the
hall's end, and entering...

 SMACK!

 "Did I tell you to enter?" Gary asked.

 "N-No, " Bernie said.

 SMACK!

 "No, Sir."

 "Better, boy." Gary said. "I see you're going to need
some training in proper slave etiquette.

 Bernie said nothing and put his hands behind his back. It
seemed the natural thing to do. I hadn't settled on being a slave, he
thought. Yet, another voice quickly intruded. You'll be whatever he
wants, it said.

 "Face the wall and don't move until I tell you," Gary said
and waited.

 "Yes, Sir," Bernie said, also a natural response. His mind
was slowly sliding around his new role.

 "Get in here," Gary said, standing in the middle of a large
room, dimly lit in contrast to the others, that had at its center a table
with a leather surface. An examination, thought Bernie. Stirrups at the
table's end pointed at angles, eight straps hung from its edges, and it
had as its foundation a wooden cabinet with drawers.

"On your knees, boy," Gary ordered and pushed Bernie to the floor.
"Show daddy just how much you want to serve him."

 As soon as Bernie lowered to the floor, he was again faced with
the horn that had stabbed into the darkness of the cubicle. The only
differences were the three metal rings at its base, a full view of its
ominous purple flesh, and the largest Prince Albert Bernie ever saw
looping through its piss slit.

 "Suck my cock good, boy, `cause if you don't. You'll have
to pay," Gary said in the same tone as he had in the baths.

 As soon as Bernie lowered over the horn, Gary thrust forward
until Bernie's lips kissed the first of the metal rings. But wasn't
satisfied. He clamped Bernie's head down over the horn and gave it a
few vigorous shakes for maximum depth. The quickness of the effort sent
Bernie into momentary gagging, and Gary withdrew only enough to allow
Bernie to catch his breath. As soon as Bernie gasped for air, Gary
thrust again. The constant thrust and withdrawal so excited Bernie that
he grabbed Gary's ass and...

SMACK! "I didn't give you permission to touch me. Touch me again, I
send your ass home. Got me, boy?" Gary asked in a hiss.

Bernie looked up to eyes shielded by the police cap's visor. Gary's
stern expression only stoked flames that already starting to lick their
way up Bernie's body. After another gasp for air, Bernie sat on his
haunches and waited with mouth opened. The stinging on the side of his
face subsided but its affects increased his desire to serve.

 Gary, enjoying the uncertainty in Bernie's eyes, slowly moved
his horn across Bernie's waiting mouth, staying just inches from
entering. Precome smeared Bernie's face, causing Gary to mutter,
"Beautiful." He brushed the horn through Bernie's hair and covered
Bernie's face with his leather-clad crotch. Bernie drowsed in the
mixture of Gary's musk and leather, fought the urge to run his hand down
Gary's legs, and felt the tap of his own cock on the hardwood.

Gary clamped his legs around Bernie's head and watched a large vein fork
the space between Bernie's brows. Seeing Bernie's strain and sweat of
effort excited Gary to the point of wanting to prolong the moment, but
his reason and training caused him to release Bernie, who dropped to the
floor panting and dripping more precome. He moved over Bernie's panting
body to check for distress, but only saw the lust he knew would be
there. Yeah, this is a good one. He wants to be used, wants to serve.
Will he be the one? There's more to do to find out.

 He dragged Bernie by one arm across the smooth hardwood to a
table hosting an assortment of BDSM fair. Above the table, a few shelves
held cats, restraints, spreader bars, cuffs, tit clamps, cock and ball
torturers, suspension gear, and tethers. But in the corner, a machine
with a long metal arm, pistoned by a large flywheel, didn't appear as
the usual fair. Secured to an oak foundation, it looked like a
horizontal paint mixer. Attached to the mixer's arm, however, was a
large dildo.

Gary saw Bernie looking at the machine and explained, "It's called The
InvaderŪ." But that was the only explanation he gave of the machine.
"Stand up," he said and walked over to two chains hanging from the
rafters of the room. He waited to see if Bernie would follow.

Good, very good. "Come, sit here," Gary said pointing to a place on
the floor beside his booted feet. "Clean my boots, boy," he said.

Although "Yes Sir" came from Bernie's lips, he faced a decision as he
kneeled slowly. He hadn't licked anyone's boots--not even his own--and
he didn't find boot worship at all pleasurable. But he wanted to
please, desperately wanted to please. He looked up at Gary, then lowered
his head, tongue tentatively tasting the air...

"Stop," Gary said. He only wanted to see if Bernie would do it. He
saw a limit in Bernie's eyes, and as much as he wanted to cross it, he
respected it. Bernie sat, head down, and occasionally looked to Gary
then to the machine in the corner.

"Don't even think about that, " Gary said. "You haven't earned the
privilege."