The Agreement on HotGuySecret
A Boss and His Boy Story
I wake early, heart racing. The dream that woke me fading into incoherent oblivion as I suddenly remember exactly where I am. In a cage at the foot of some guy’s bed. I don’t think the sun has fully risen, the room is softly shaded in the gloom of the moments before dawn and there is no sound that would otherwise indicate what time it is.
My limbs are so heavy with exhaustion. I can barely move them but I manage to crawl to the end of the cage to open the door. It doesn’t budge. Cold anxiety trickles through me. Hoping that it’s just latched and not locked I fumble around with my hand outside the cage on the roof, trying to find the closing mechanism. It’s useless and my urgent panic increases. I frantically push on the door again and become more desperate when each attempt is as futile as the last. A knot threatens to close my throat as hot tears form and trickle down my cheeks. I start to hyperventilate, my vision darkening as I whimper, my head spinning. I need to get out of here. Now.
I hear something shift in the dim light ahead of me, I scurry to the back of the cage, hug my knees to my chest and freeze, my already racing shallow breath increasing in speed. From where I am, in the slowly brightening room I can see his feet and lower legs as he lounges back in a leather arm chair across from me. He’s been sat there waiting for me to wake up?
“Boy you’re hyperventilating. If you don’t deliberately slow your breath and consciously exhale you will pass out.” A low, velvety baritone.
I scramble my hands over the bars in a frenzy, trying to find a way out.
“Boy, stop. Listen to me, breathe out slowly and deliberately. Do it now.”
He hasn’t raised his voice, there’s no urgency in his tone, just a calm measured confidence that is slightly hypnotic. At his direction I stop and start to slow my breath.
“Good boy, slower, exhale longer, slow it down, that’s it. Good, just like that.”
As his words of encouragement and praise fall over me, I feel my light-headedness begin to ease, my heart rate slowing, and my racing mind calming with it, allowing me to collect my thoughts.
“Good, it’s ok boy, you’re having a perfectly natural reaction, it’s expected. Everyone goes through this. I’ve got you, you’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you.”
I can’t completely focus on his reassurance. “Let me out. Let me out, now. NOW!” I can hear my thin voice rise pathetically as the panic rapidly returns and threatens to swamp me.
“Shh, calm, breathe. It’s ok boy, I’m going to let you out, but not until you’re calm. Can you do that for me boy? Shh, just breathe, focus on my voice, focus on your breath, breathe, be calm. Shhhh.”
I don’t know how he’s doing it but as I simply listen to his soft, smooth voice, following his instructions, I can feel myself backing away from the edge of hysteria and calming down. The assertive reassurance of his confident presence is so warm that I desire to simply melt into it.
He waits in steady silence as I slow everything down, and after a few more moments of me calming myself, he shifts, leaning forward in his seat and looking at me through the bars. “Come here boy,” he says. I slowly creep forward, in the growing light I can see that he’s wrapped in a white towel, bare chested, his hair still wet from a recent shower.
He smells so fresh and clean and ordinary. I take a quick moment to assess him, his broad muscular chest and arms covered in soft dark hair, his neatly trimmed beard. A calmness just exudes from him. His face is commanding and kind, patient and confident, he truly looks like there is no situation he couldn’t handle. The sort of man that men instinctively trust and defer to. A leader. In a towel.
He sits back, crossing one ankle over the thigh near the knee and I catch a glimpse of the head of his cock under the towel. A burst of memory, his cock thrusting inside me, rouses a confused desire through my body. My throat and pussy ache for its return and an increasing warmth spreads through my loins. The flustered awkwardness of my reaction at even the briefest glimpse of his cock causes my face to flush red. I swallow hard and reluctantly look away.
“Look at me boy,” he softly orders. The slightest of smiles is the only evidence that he saw my reaction and I suspect that he deliberately positioned himself so that he would get that exact response from me.
I lift my gaze to look into his eyes, and as he locks them onto me, I’m momentarily unable to find adequate words to describe what they do to me, how they make me feel, or why my heart lurches in my chest. They’re soft and flinty. At once both frightening and firmly reassuring. Potentially cruel, yet also kind, patient and compassionate. Distantly friendly, they are warm deep pools of mystery and adventure. My heart starts to race again, now no longer with fear, but in excitement, anticipation and trepidation.
“I understand that right now it’s hard for you to trust me boy, why should you? Believe me when I say to you that I’m not here to hurt you, I don’t want to harm you or abuse you in any way. I am not your enemy. Quite the opposite in fact. You have something that I want, something I’ve been looking for and you’re going to give it to me. In return, I will unlock the deepest recesses of what is hidden inside you, the potential and promise that you guard so heavily, the secret that you’re fully convinced that no one sees. I see it boy, I see it very clearly, and you are going to give it to me, I can see that you want to give it to me. To put it simply boy, I want to set you free.”
The incredulous look that sweeps over my face has to be priceless, the pure absurd irony of his words settle in the silence. This cunt, I’m literally captive to him in a cage. I can’t help but let out a bitter snort as I turn my head slowly away. “Fuck you.”
“Ahh there he is, there’s my boy. And yes boy, you will.” He smirks, the light of challenge brimming in those inscrutable eyes. My head snaps back to look at him as I throw the words at his feet. “No seriously, go fuck yourself you cunt. I’m not giving you shit. Fucking let me out of here.”
“Boss,” he says.
“What?” He keeps throwing me off balance.
“Fucking let me out of here, Boss.” He says firmly.
It’s incredibly subtle, but his face has hardened. He hasn’t raised his voice, yet there’s a controlled iciness in his tone that has me momentarily hesitating. A threat is in the air. As I pause to reflect, I realise that I haven’t seen him lose control once, he’s always in charge, of himself, his situation and others. It’s both disconcerting and alluring. I can feel a deep instinctive urge to just give in to him, but as I ponder that possibility my incredibly strong sense of self rises and I hear:
“You are not my fucking Boss, I am not your boy, your slut or your fucking property. Let me out of here. Now.”
He sighs softly as he stands and undoes his towel, momentarily standing completely naked in front of me, his large thick cock so firmly erect that the head nearly brushes his belly button. A silky drip of pre-cum, descends toward the floor, glistening in the light. He rearranges his towel to cover himself and lowers his arms slowly by his side.
“I’m truly sorry you feel that way my boy. You seem to have forgotten so quickly. As I said to you yesterday, and I’ll give you the mercy of repeating myself this one time, we can do this nice or we can do this nasty. It’s entirely up to you slut, your choice.”
“I can either break you into a million pieces and painstakingly reform you into my obedient and willing faggot slave, the operative word there being ‘pain’, or, you can choose to remember where you belong and who you belong to. You will take your place by my side as my slut, my toy and my property willingly giving to me, yielding to me what has always been mine. My boy. One way is cruel, the other is kind. One way you are a mere object to be used, the other you are a cherished possession owned by a protective, loving and caring Master.”
“I’m deeply disappointed at how quickly you seem to have forgotten your vow to me slut. Now, I will return in two hours, you have that long to consider what I’ve said boy. I have given you a choice. So choose.”
My distress at hearing his disappointment in me is instantly replaced by sudden panic and regret as he turns and strides out the door.
“Wait! No! I’m sorry. Boss, please, come back. No please, don’t leave me in here. Boss. Please. No, no, I’m sorry. Boss! Please!” I start to sob and beg as the door softly closes. I cry, frustrated for a few minutes in the dawn light infusing the room, slowly composing myself, I try to think but my mind is so full. The memory of that incredibly hard cock and drip of pre-cum descending toward the floor makes it impossible to concentrate.
***
After about fifteen minutes, any hope I had that he would relent and return fades. My overwhelming exhaustion overtakes my panic and I lay on my side just numbly staring into the distance. My mind inevitably drifts to the events of the day before. Reflecting on the choices and strong desires that had led to me even being in the park in the first place. The pressure of his hand around my throat. The easy strength with which he handled me. The exquisite sensation of multiple men using me, relentlessly fucking me into submission with their gloriously hard cocks. Treating me exactly as they desired, getting their fill from me. Being their eager and willing boy that quenched their thirst.
The look of pride and happiness in Boss’s eyes, those incredible, beautiful, eyes. The delicious praise that dripped with low, throaty, masculine desire as I gave him what he wanted. What I wanted. Such a good boy. I feel my cock beginning to stiffen in the cool air as I reminisce, aching to feel the touch of Boss’s strong broad hands, yearning for some resistance to thrust against. A screen flicks on.
There in high definition on a 75 inch screen is a replay of what was just in my mind. I am instantly transfixed and unable to look away in horrified fascination. His uncanny ability to know my thoughts and desires, simultaneously arouses and alarms me.
The footage taken from Box Cutter’s and 2nd’s phones as they fucked me over and over in a heated frenzy, replays. Their moans of pure ecstatic pleasure as my hole hungrily gave them their frantic frustrated release. The way my pussy gaped achingly for their thrusts and thick throbbing members. What I thought I was hiding so well, is right there in intimate detail on the screen. My face awash with bliss. My hips grinding back and shimmying with animal lust as I grunt and pant. I can’t escape the truth. I was there looking for action and when I got more than I could have ever dreamed for, the slut in me fully embraced and enjoyed every second, lapped up every exquisite moment.
The half hearted protests, the incredibly weak attempts to resist.
The pure open joy on my face as Boss clips the collar around my neck. The collar I’m still wearing. I’m shocked to see the eager, desperate surrender and hear myself scandalously giving him my submission, giving myself over to him. Begging him to own me, to be inside me, to make me his. Thanking him. Affirming that I’m his slut, his toy, his property.
I watch as the lube and cum, infused with piss drips down from my gaping cunt as I finally surrender to Boss’s fist inside me. My gaze entranced as I watch myself become a willing and eager whore, inevitably succumbing to my deep need for a proper Master.
And, after all of that, the extreme tenderness and care with which Boss scooped me up to bring me home. Crooning to me about his beautiful boy. How proud he is of me. Letting me know that he will take care of me. He will protect me and not allow any harm to come to me. My head resting deliriously happy against him.
A tear rolls down my face and my breath catches in my throat as I hear his tender care, the words of pride and encouragement that I couldn’t comprehend in my blissed out state the day before. Then the screen goes dark.
The inescapable reality of who I am crashes home. I’m confused, is this truly who I am, what I am? As I lay on my back in the silence, my body’s reaction to the video and the brutal way in which I was treated gives me my answer. My incredibly hard twitching cock and pre-cum oozing all over my lightly furred stomach whispers to me exactly what it is that I’m too afraid to admit to myself.
I feel a prideful, stubborn resistance rear up against this revelation. A scared, hunted desperation, frantically working to deny it, to reject it. No! No. He took me, I was confused. I will NOT surrender to him. I’m quickly betrayed by my own emotion as I pause and feel the desire to surrender to him returning, it’s so strong in me, I can visualise myself kneeling before him.
Deep inside, no longer hidden, is a desperation to allow his domination and ownership of me. The idea of becoming his cherished possession fills me with longing and pride that he would even want to own me, that he would choose me. Yet the streak of resistance refuses to give in. I begin to softly cry again as I struggle to reconcile the internal conflict of wanting to be owned by this incredible man vying against deep societal conditioning of fierce independence.
***
It’s uncertain how long I had been wrestling with my nature when I notice the uncomfortable fullness of my bladder. The pressure of holding it in as I wait for him to return is already at a level of thought piercing discomfort. Having become aware of my need it rapidly intensifies. I close my eyes, wincing as I take hold of my cock, perhaps if I squeeze hard enough it will help. It does briefly, but the insistence of the pain and pressure in my bladder overwhelms even that momentary relief. I try crossing my legs, squeezing and pushing down on my cock but it’s no use, I can feel that I’m going to lose control at any moment.
My breath is now coming in ragged gasps, gritting my teeth as I fight hopelessly to hold it in. I have to release, it’s impossible, I can’t hold it another second. Deeply ashamed and humiliated at my inability to maintain control over my body I feel it, slowly at first, begin to trickle out of me, there’s no chance of stopping it now as the trickle becomes a steady stream. A moan escapes at the sweet release, it feels incredibly good, so I let it flow, unabated. The sensation is almost orgasmic as I sink into the release like a filthy animal.
On my hands and knees, a demented grin spreads over my face as I watch my hot piss spill out of the base of the small cage and onto the surrounding, immaculately polished, wooden floor. Fuck him, this is his fault, he left me in here too long, if he wants a fucking animal then he can have one, and in a savage moment of misplaced revenge I cock my leg like a dog, eyes closed, and sink into the pure unadulterated pleasure of releasing my bladder and the perverse joy at the thought of my piss streaming out of the cage all over his precious fucking floor, the acrid smell of it and the sound of the steady stream splashing on the wood elicits a chuckle from my throat.
My eyes snap open as a hand grabs my collar and wrenches me out of the cage. I was so lost in the moment I didn’t even hear him come back in. With an ease that takes my breath away he drags me across the floor. His strong hands pressing on the back of my neck he forces my face into the still growing puddle of my filth. His tone is chilling, so measured that it leaves me without doubt about his displeasure. He doesn’t need to yell or even raise his voice, I can tell through his restrained self control that I’ve made a grave mistake.
“You filthy little slut, you think you can piss on my floor and not face consequences? You’re going to clean it up faggot, every single drop.”
“This is your fault, you’re the one who left me in here, I couldn’t hold it in any longer, don’t blame me for your stupid mistakes arsehole.” I pant as I try desperately to keep my face out of the pool of piss. I can hear the open defiance in my voice and wish I could have chosen a softer tone.
“That’s 20 more.” He says in that measured voice that somehow manages to terrify and arouse me at the same time
“Twenty more what fuckhead?” I snarl. I hear the words escape, and take a delicious satisfaction in them even as I know they’re just making things worse for me.
“Strikes to your punishment, for blaming me for your own disgusting and disrespectful behaviour.” A wry smile twisting his lips. “Now with your tongue you filthy slut, lap it up.”
A wave of horror convulses through me as I recognise exactly what it is he expects me to do. Realising far too late that I’ve gone way past the point of return, “Boss, please no, I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up, I will, but please, just not like that. Please. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s too late now slut to try respect and regret boy, I saw your face as you cocked your leg. You took extreme glee in pissing on my floor. This disgraceful rebellious streak of yours needs desperate correction. As your Master, I would not be doing my job, it would be a deep failure and mistake on my part to allow you to continue down this destructive path. I will not allow this flaw to remain in my property boy.”
I wince as his booted foot comes down on my cheek. His work boots, somehow clean even as the smell of grass and earth fills my nostrils. My head is firmly pinned, holding me down in my own piss, there is no way I can avoid it. Looking up out of the corner of my eye I can see the unrelenting resolve on his face.
Bending over he looks me in the eye. “Well, what are you waiting for slut? Get to it.”
I take a few more moments to contemplate the pure humiliating horror of what it is I’m expected to do. His boot presses more firmly on my cheek in impatience. I slowly extend my tongue into the pool of piss, the smell is overwhelming, burning my nostrils, but it’s the taste of it that shocks me the most. The taste of an entire concentrated night of piss that has been stewing in my bladder is something I was completely unprepared for and I gag involuntarily.
“Every drop slut.” he says. I continue to reluctantly lap at my piss, my nose wrinkling as I gag against the taste. “Good boy, keep going. That’s it, you’re being such a good boy.”
Hearing the words I’d been craving since the day before reinvigorates my deep desire to please him, and I begin to hungrily lap up as much of the acrid piss as I can, his boot releasing just enough to allow me to move a little so I can get more up with each pass.
“Mmm good boy.”
I here a zipping sound and crane my head the best I can to look up at him, just in time to see his cock flop out of his pants a golden stream descend toward me microseconds before it hits me in the face. His piss splashes into my eye and my eyes sting closed as I gasp. The stream enters my mouth. Unlike my piss though, his tastes incredible. A moment of shock as I feel my tongue extend to catch as much of his piss as I can.
“That’s it boy, drink your Boss’s piss like a good boy.” He purrs. “You’re mine now boy, my property.”
As he pisses all over my face, I’m knocked into deep submissive arousal as I hear him claiming me once again, drenching my hair, his golden stream trickling into my open mouth. In that moment, as I hear the pure pleasure in his voice and I feel his desire and resolve to claim me fully, I can think of nothing but pleasing him, my straining cock aching to please him.
“Thank you Boss. Thank you for your gift of piss. Thank you for correcting me, thank you for owning me. Please forgive my disrespect Boss, allow me to serve you, please allow me to atone for my mistakes. Thank you Boss for caring so deeply about your slut.”
“Good boy, I’m glad to hear you finally accepting your place and giving me the proper respect that I deserve, but you’re not finished.” He softly growls and releases his boot from my face.
Eagerly I spring to my hands and knees and lap at the piss on the floor. Knowing that he’s patiently watching over me in my moment of shame spurs me to do better for him as I eagerly work to lap up the mess I’d created. The bitter taste is softened by his patient presence. The smell of him on me, claiming me as I work, is incredible and I find myself slipping back into ecstatic delirium.
After what could easily be 20 minutes I hear him again. “Ok boy, that’s enough for now. Stand up. That’s quite a mess you’ve made.”
I struggle to stand, having been in the cage all night, exhausted limbs refuse to cooperate at first, my knees simply don’t want to straighten.
“Stand in the corner until you are dry,” he says.
I hobble over to the nearest corner and stand as still as I can, somehow knowing that to falter now would bring me disgrace after having worked so hard to gain his praise. I don’t want to reflect poorly on my Master after his loving and patient correction. He leaves the room, I stand confused unsure what to do, but he returns after a few minutes with a mop and bucket, mopping up any piss I had left behind. Now deeply ashamed at my behaviour I step forward to offer to clean up the mess that I had made.
“I didn’t say move boy,” he says. I step back into the corner and bow my head, “I’m sorry Boss,” and this time I actually mean it, not to get what I want or to get out of this situation, but because true remorse has risen as I take in the inconvenience that I have caused him. All trace of defiance and ill will toward him has momentarily evaporated.
“So, have you made your choice boy?, he asks.
Without hesitation, “I’ll never be a slave.” I see him stiffen, “Boss,” I quickly add and I see him ease back into his work. “Fair enough boy, so I guess…” he starts and I quickly interrupt him “but I… I don’t know,” trying to collect my thoughts, the idea of serving him sounds so seductive, but is it really that simple? I’m so headstrong and wilful that I can’t truly imagine being subservient to anyone.
“Let me stop you there boy. I understand the conflict you’re experiencing, far better than you imagine. Boy, you aren’t the first of your type and you definitely won’t be the last. So many men travel through life knowing something is wrong. They don’t fit properly. No matter what they do they’re never quite fulfilled. They pursue the life they’re told they’re supposed to want only to find it doesn’t work for them. Society will have them believe that they’re supposed to be a leader, but they’re not leaders and they know it, they’re adrift, and they don’t know how or where to anchor themselves. They struggle against their nature. That’s where you are at right now. You don’t know the answer and you don’t know how to find it but you know things aren’t right. I am your answer boy. I have found you, it’s time to rest. You can stop searching and struggling.”
I open my mouth to protest but he continues “The truth that you’re struggling to accept, is that I am now your Master, I have already claimed you as mine, you know that you deeply desire to be mine. Over the last day I’ve shown you where you belong and what will fulfil you, you belong at the side of a Master, serving him, becoming his perfect boy and making him proud to have you. You are meant to be a man that serves men, in all of their needs and desires. You know it, you’ve already felt it, it feels right and you need it. You have already offered yourself, twice now, but you’re afraid of what that means and where it leads and you’re looking for a way out. Together, under my loving guidance, care, protection and ownership, we can release you from your struggle.”
As I listen to him speak, the truth of what he’s saying begins to settle deep inside me. I’m definitely not a leader, I don’t even desire to lead. I truly do want to surrender to him, I can feel that serving him is right, but I can’t shake the feeling it’s not that simple, and he certainly doesn’t realise the difficult monster he’s about to take ownership of, that he’s convinced that he wants for himself.
“One week. At the end of one week if either of us decide that you aren’t fit to be my boy, then we part ways. But understand my boy, this opportunity will not be offered to you again. Do you agree to one week?”
I feel a moment of foreboding, conveniently, I have a week. I need to know where I stand and settle on testing him. “I could leave now?” I ask. I see him consider that for a good few breaths then he steps to the side. “There’s the door, you’re free to leave. Understand boy, I want you. You’ve already decided that you will not be a slave and I respect your decision, but I still want you to be my boy. I want you to choose to be my boy, to choose to stand by my side. You’re free to leave if that’s truly what you wish, and I will respect your decision without any repercussion.”
Damn it. He’s called my bluff. My heart fluttering, he wants me. He senses the victory and quickly moves to fill the silence. “So you agree to be my boy, without reservation, for one week?” Before I even have a chance to form a thought, the words fall from my lips. “Yes Boss.”
“Good. Now boy, twice you’ve offered yourself and twice you’ve tried to weasel out of it. I will not accept a third violation of your vow to me. If you attempt it again, our agreement is over and you will not enjoy the consequences of that. You are my boy, I own you. Do you understand?”
“Yes Boss,” I reply.
“Rule one, you will always address me as Boss, or at times Master. You will always offer me the respect that my position as Master and owner of you, deserves. Failure to do so will result in a punishment that I choose, do you understand?”
He’s mention of punishment momentarily has me looking to the door, but then I remember the commitment I have made and sink to my knees, kneeling before him. “Yes Boss.” I feel a thrill of pleasure as I notice a ripple of surprise travel across his face as I kneel before him.
“Rule two, you will always seek my permission to piss. From this day forward you do not take a leak without my express permission. Failure to do so will result in punishment.” I bow my head, this time, not in subservience, but to conceal the grin. “Yes Boss,” hoping he can’t hear the amusement in my voice.
“Rule three, you will always serve me with full enthusiasm and commitment, you will not bitch or moan about what I require or request from you no matter how difficult it may seem. Failure to meet my high standards will result in punishment, do you understand?”
“Yes Boss.”
“Repeat them to me.”
“I will always address you as Boss or Master, Boss. I will always seek your permission to piss Boss. I will serve you with full commitment and enthusiasm and do everything I can to meet your high standards Boss.” I relay with as much enthusiasm, as I can.
“Good boy, you learn quickly. Make sure you keep me happy and we may yet be able to reform this pathetically useless, disobedient, rebellious slut before me into a boy worthy of my attention.”
“Boy, your body belongs to me, it is now my body. Your cock, your pussy and your mouth’s sole purpose in life is to please me and bring me pleasure. They belong to me now. Do you understand?”
I feel my cock stir at the anticipation of serving him. “Yes Boss, I understand. This cock, mouth and pussy now belong to you. Their sole purpose is to please and pleasure you Boss.”
“Good boy, you’re being such a good boy. There will be more rules, and for the moment you have no rights or privileges. You will need to earn them through your attentive and good behaviour. Now stand and come here, it’s time for your punishment.”
I gulp and stand, it’s going to be a long week.