This is a work of homoerotic fiction written by an adult for the purpose of entertainment
for other adults. If you are not
eighteen years of age or you have any problem with this type of literature then this is a warning to read no further. The author will not be held
responsible for any reason if you do. (Codes: M/M BD/SM Master/slave Anal Oral)
Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Christmas has always been a bad time of year for me. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve spent Christmas eve in a gay bar by myself, alone, getting drunker the more sorry I felt for myself. Those times left a pall over Christmas for me for many years. Until, quite by accident, I met Beebers. That wasn’t his real name. That was my pet name for the big man who became my Master. His real name was Billy Bob Duncan. He wasn’t a good looking man but his attitude, bearing and self assuredness drew me to him like a magnet.
I was working on a construction job in downtown Los Angeles building the Sheraton-Grande Hotel. I was a journeyman carpenter and had been with the company since we broke ground. I noticed twice a week a big man would come and walk the job site with my boss asking questions and watching the workers. He was one of the chief concrete inspectors who checked and approved every major pour. He always wore knee high boots of some kind and they were always hot looking on him. He was a man who looked right in a big pair of boots. I found that for some reason it excited me every time I saw him on the site. As time went by I caught him watching me and my partner working. He would stand and watch us for long periods of time until one day my partner commented about him.
“You know, Jake, I think he’s interested in you.” My partner Jerry said.
“Well, I’ve noticed him watching us but how do you know he’s not looking at you!” I answered.
Jerry called me Jake. My real name was Jason but he shortened it to Jake. I didn’t mind. I liked either name. He was a gay man with a steady lover. They had been together five or six years. He suspected I was gay but I never came out to him. He was forever inviting me to go to a bar with him and his partner. I tried gay bars for many years and never found anyone I was interested in. I’d end up going home by myself, frustrated, time and time again. I was alone and figured I always would be. I just gave up.
We worked hard getting the foundations poured within the time schedule of the job and the company owner threw us a party after work before the Christmas holidays across the street in the Bonaventure. He pulled out all the stops and provided food and an open bar. I wasn’t much of a drinker but enjoyed the food and the comradery of my fellow workers. Jerry punched me in the side and told me to look toward the door. There was the inspector in his tall boots talking to the owner of the company and heading for our area to join the party. He started to make me nervous as he made no bones about looking at me and I was becoming convinced as Jerry it was, indeed, me he was interested in. He sat with some of the iron workers and kept looking over at our table. Jerry said he was going to invite him over. I threatened Jerry with his life if he did.
Later, I went to the bar for another round of drinks and out of the corner of my eye saw the inspector get up to head there as well.
‘Oh, shit! What’ll I do if he speaks to me?’ I thought, ‘Settle down, Honcho, he’s not gonna’ bite you.’ I consoled myself.
“Hi, Jake!” He spoke to me.
“Well, howdy, Mr. inspector.” I held out my hand and we shook. “You know my name but I don’t know yours.”
“Billy Bob Duncan, young man.”
“Good to meet you, Sir. I’ve seen you on the site but didn’t have time to meet you.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you a few times, too, and it’s good to finally meet you.”
My drinks came and I placed them on a small tray the bartender gave me to transport to the table. I tuned to him and asked him to join us later if he had the time. He thanked me and I left. He did join us and I introduced him around to the other carpenters. He was quiet but well met with a booming laugh. I liked him. I liked him a lot and began to feel comfortable in his company. A couple of hours went by and I didn't want to leave his side; however, Jerry rode to work with me and had to get home so we said our goodbyes and left. In the truck on the way home Jerry pulled a small business card out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“Inspector Duncan gave me this to give to you. Read the back.”
I took the card from him and read the back. ‘I’ll be at the ‘One Way’ tonight at 9:00. You will be there waiting for me. I need you and you need me. Your new Master, Billy Bob.
“Now, that’s hot!” Exclaimed Jerry. Woah! Christmas done come early for my partner. Thank ya’ Jay-zus!”
“Oh shut up, Jerry! You wrote that to get me out to the bars.”
“Swear to God, Jerry, I didn’t! That ain’t my hand writing. Besides, I may laugh with you, but you know I ain’t meanspirited. I’d never do that sort of thing. You don’t want to go to the bars, that’s your business. You’re always welcome to go with Stan and I but we’ve never insisted.” He was right, they never had.
Needless to say, I was at the “One Way” at eight-thirty. Thirty minutes early. Jerry and Stan went with me and I was nervous as a cat on hot tin roof. Nine o’clock sharp Billy Bob walked into the bar wearing more leather than the inside of a new Cardova. He looked hot! He bought a beer, spotted us and walked over to us. I shook his hand and introduced him to Stan. Jerry shook his hand as well.
“We’ll have this beer and take off.” He said to me.
“Take off to where, Sir?” I asked innocently.
He reached into his big leather jacket and brought out a dog collar. I was holding his beer and he swiftly put it around my neck and locked it in place. His actions caused a lot of people to watch. I went along with him because somehow it just seemed right, but I couldn’t help wonder what he was doing. He reached into his other pocket and brought out a leash and clipped it to the collar. The crowd applauded. I was embarrassed. Jerry and Stan giggled.
“You will refer to me as Master! You will become my property and your new name will be Jason Duncan, understand, slave?!”
“Yes, Sir, Master.” I found coming out of my mouth. I never considered becoming a slave or playing within the leather crowd; however, it certainly took care of my earlier question as to where we were going to go from here. All he had to do was take my leash and lead me. My heart was ready to be lead anywhere buy the big man. I would have followed him to Dante’s seventh ring of hell and back. (We made the trip several times!)
He lead me everywhere that evening with his leash he put on me. We went from Christmas party to Christmas party and at each he simply introduced me as his new slave. There were no questions asked but I got looked at by a lot of men with obvious envy in their eyes that I was on the end of his leash and not them. It caused me to stand a little taller next to my new Master. I became his slave that night, moved in with him the first of the year and lived with my Master twenthy-three years until he passed away. Once again I was alone. Older and alone. Not a pretty picture. It was Christmas eve and I was home alone. It was my first Christmas by myself since my Master died.
Christmas was always a big time of year for my Master. We would work for weeks decorating, making goodies and having friends in for Christmas eve. Billy Bob loved people. He had a big, generous heart and an equally generous laugh. He made people comfortable. I just couldn’t do it this year. I was invited to numerous parties and went to a few but this was Christmas eve a time when Master B. and I would sit in front of the fire place and get mellow with each other. He’d put me in my best collar and leash and have me sit on the floor at his feet; rub my head as I leaned against his big boots and leather pants. He would sigh a big, deep sigh and I knew his heart was happy.
One year toward the last he made me promise I would keep Christmas in my heart no matter what happened to him and have a small tree to remember him by. I was to listen to Christmas music and sit in his favorite chair by the fire place. I began to feel like his final orders to me about the holiday was the only thought that might help me through this Christmas eve. Jerry and Stan insisted I spent Christmas eve with them but they moved to the desert and I didn’t feel like driving out there. Besides, they needed to be with each other for Christmas eve.
I started getting dressed for Christmas eve like I’d done so many times before. Cleaned myself, inserted my plug, put my collar and leash on and decided to wear my old leather jacket I wore the night I first met my Master at the ‘One Way.’ I put it on and reached in the pocket and pulled out a business card with his name on it. I read again the words he wrote over twenty years ago, but this time there was a P.S. on the bottom of the card in fresh ink that read. ‘
’If you keep Christmas as I ordered, you will never be alone on Christmas eve.’
Someone had done this to me as a joke. It was not a very thoughtful joke. It struck me as cruel and meanspirited. I started crying and just wanted to crawl into bed. In sleep I could find peace and dream that my beloved Master was still laying warm by my side, but what the hell? I all ready poured myself an egg nog and lit a roaring fire in the fire place, may as well go in and enjoy the fire until it dies out. Besides, my Master's favorite plug was beginning to feel pretty damn good.
Every Christmas eve, Master B. read Dickens "Christmas Carol" aloud for us. Each year he got better and better until all our friends insisted he read it to them, too. It was the highlight of our holiday. I was so proud of him. He took good care of me and I tried to take good care of him.
I was reading Dickens to myself in front of the fire and must have fallen asleep when all of a sudden there came a knock at the door. I went to peek out, but there was no one there. I threw on a robe and opened the door wide but still I could find no one around. 'Kids,' I thought to myself, as I closed and locked the door, and returned to the living room.
Sitting in my Master’s chair was an enormous older man with a small gut, full white beard and mustache, with enough leather on to satisfy any leather fetish. He wore big, tall boots that came up to his thighs, a Master’s harness with cod piece, a heavy leather vest and a Masters cap. Across his lap he had a leather whip.
“Ah, you’re back, slave! Get your robe off and present yourself to Master Nick immediately.”
This was too bizarre! Where had this man come from and how the hell did he get in here without me seeing him. I was about to protest when he got a twinkle in his eye and put a finger to his lips to stifle my words. I didn’t speak, I just did as the man ordered. As I approached him I noticed he had a huge leather bag stuffed full of God knows what. I threw my rode on the sofa and he looked me up and down with a very, nasty smile on his face.
“Turn around, bend over and spread ‘em, slave!”
I immediately did as Master Nick ordered and held the position until I was told otherwise.
“I see you’ve followed your Master’s orders and kept Christmas this year but you didn’t believe the note he left you in your jacket pocket, did you?”
“I thought someone was playing a mean trick on me, Master Nick, did he send you to be with me.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Indeed, he did, slave, now stand up, get your ass over here and make love to Master Nick’s boots. I haven’t got all night. I have a number of other slaves who have been left alone this Christmas eve that I have to service. Only the ones who have been very good, of course!”
I went to his feet and began cleaning his boots with a passion. I hadn’t tasted a man’s boots since I cleaned my dead Master’s about a week ago. I had them standing by the fire place thinking about putting them on to feel my Master’s essence. My feet would float in them but that only added to my excitement knowing I could never fill my Master’s boots.
“Take my boots off, slave, and bring me your Master’s boots. I helped him off with his huge boots and wondered if my Master’s boots would fit him. I placed the first one in my crotch for him to put his big foot into. I saw the merriment in his eyes and the smile on his face that told me he was enjoying me as a slave.
“You took good care of your Master, slave, I can tell.”
He pressed his big foot into my Master’s boots and just before I thought he was going to crush my balls, his foot magically slipped in. The boots fit him like a pair of gloves. He stood up and stomped around in them to get the feel and for my visual benefit. My dick was roaring hard at this big man filling my Master’s boots.
“You did a good job on my boots, let’s see how good you can clean your Master’s boots.”
I shed tears at the taste and flavor of the wonderful man’s boots I had licked and cleaned thousands of times. I closed my eyes and could feel Master B.’s feet and toes beneath the heavy leather. Master Nick was chuckling at my ecstacy and hunger. I was devouring my Master’s boots, not for my stomach but for my soul.
All of a sudden I felt his whip come down hard across my ass. It didn’t even startle me. I was so use to Master Billy warming my ass while cleaning his boots I just raised my ass higher for Master Nick.
“Ho! Ho! Ho, slave! You ARE well trained. Soon as I get your butt all warmed up I’m gonna’ leave you a present, way up inside your hot little ass.”
He continued to beat my ass for a while and got harder and harder with his strokes. He was really warming my ass up and making it hot. I could feel my asshole was beginning to drip from self-lubrication.
“There, hit the position in front of the fire on that bear skin rug.”
I did as ordered and grabbed my legs in my arms. He undid his cod piece and out flopped one of the biggest cocks I’d ever seen on a man. He smiled at my surprise.
“We want to make sure my present is placed way up inside you, don’t we slave?”
“Yes, Sir, Master Nick!”
He popped out my plug and checked with his gloved fingers to see if I had adequate lubrication for him. He was satisfied and positioned himself at my back door. He leaned over me and took me swift and hard to the base of his big, fat dick. I felt his sizable balls slap against my butt.
“Oh, thank you, Master Nick, you really are a true Master to take my ass like that. Thank you, Sir!”
“Easy, slave, relax! It’s gonna’, get better when Master Nick gets you loosened up, when he gets some of your boy-butt juices flowing, and he starts rootin’ around up in that tight little slave’s ass.”
Master Nick waited until my ass calmed down and then took a couple of small, long, deep strokes into my butt. Woah, he was as big as a fucking horse or at the very least a large reindeer. Then he started to fuck me seriously. He fucked me every way he knew how and some I’d never dreamed of before. He was one hell of a fuck. He built me up two or three times and ordered me not to come because he wasn’t ready to give me my present yet. I held off and held off until it felt like he was getting ready to put his gift under my tree. He yelled at me an order for me to come. I let go of three huge volleys of come. He managed to grab one of his huge, thigh high boots and had me shoot on them. I covered both toes of those big boots with my come.
After I’d cleaned him good, helped him back on with his big boots, returned my Master’s boots to the hearth, and licked my come off his big boots, he settled back in my Master’s big chair with his pipe. He picked up my book, “A Christmas Carol” and began reading at the exact spot I left off.
With my ass tightly re-plugged so I wouldn't lose a drop of his precious present, I gathered myself at his feet with my arms wrapped around his big boots. Once again, I listened to Dickens’ story as his booming baritone voice played all the parts. The next thing I knew, I woke up and was beginning to feel chilled. The fire was almost out and my head was laying on my Master’s boots propped up against his big chair. I started crying because I realized I was once again alone. Had it all been just a dream?
I stoked the fire and was determined not to feel sorry for myself and get another nog from the kitchen. My ass really felt like it had been righteously fucked but I dismissed it. Going through the hall I passes a full length mirror and looked at my ass. It had been severely whipped recently and was still glowing more red than Rudolph’s nose. I poured myself another grog-nog and returned to the living room. All the music had stopped and I heard a big, booming baritone voice, from far way,
“On ye slaves who pull my sleigh, pull ye fast, be swift of flight, there’s more lonely slave’s hearts to mend this night!” I didn’t imagine it! I really heard it!
I smiled to myself as I cuddled up next to my Master’s boots. The
grog warmed my insides, the fire warmed me outside and Master Nick’s whip
warmed my ass to last the night. My ass and my heart were in perfect
accord, it was a good Christmas eve after all; a wonderful Christmas eve.
I knew there would be many more because I was a good slave. My Master told
Merry Christmas to all good slaves, and to all,---a good night!
A peaceful and loving holiday to everyone. No matter your preferences, we're all God's children.
Waddie Greywolf ~ Christmas ~ 2003
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Copyright 2003/2004 Waddie Greywolf
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