So, I Have a Theory
You meet the strangest people on the city bus.
I barely made the bus today.
I was carrying my bike down the stairs right as it pulled up. The driver never waits, even though I know she always sees me. I sprinted down the stairs and ran right in front of the bus so I could get my bike on the rack. I’m sure she would have run me over if she could have, and probably the only thing that stopped her was knowing the paperwork it would entail. She stopped. I racked my bike and got on and flashed her a huge grin. She didn’t make eye contact.
I made a mental note to wash my bike shorts. I thought I had, but they seemed really stiff or something. I sat down in the first seat near the handicapped area. There were rarely any actual handicapped people on the bus but sometimes some really obese people would ride and when they did, these were the only seats where they fit. I closed my eyes and drifted off.
In my daydream, the next stop was teeming with men so fat their only hope of riding at all was to pile into the handicapped area. One of them sat down, then another, and another, until they pressed me between them so hard their guts nearly crushed me. Then they kept parading on, packing the standing area until I was wedged between them completely, my face mashed against the huge gut of one of them standing in front of me, barely able to breathe.
The voice brought me back from my daydream. Or so I thought: I looked up and saw one a man even larger than any in my daydream. I pinched myself. It hurt.
“Uh, hi?” I stared dumbly at him.
“Do you mind - can you slide over?” He didn’t look irritated, just asked pleasantly with a smile. I grinned sheepishly and slid over, making room.
This was a dream come true. I clutched my laptop bag into my lap to hide the erection straining against my lycra bike shorts. It was already throbbing from the daydream, and now with this amazing specimen next to me I expected it was leaking a dark spot onto the front.
I hoped I was being subtle as I stole glances at him. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his heavy wool topcoat as he sat, wrapping it around his gigantic gut. He was dressed sharply, a suit shockingly well-tailored to his massive physique. He was older, balding, his massive jowls connecting his distinguished face to his huge body.
He was a dream come true.
I felt butterflies in my stomach. I willed them away but they only got worse. Now or never.
I cleared my throat. I’d waited for a moment like this forever. I’d practiced my opener.
“So,” I began. He glanced my way. “I have a theory.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you?”
I barely made the bus today. Had to sprint down the stairs with my bike in one hand. Jumped right out in front of the bus as she was going to drive away. Bet she would’ve if she thought she could get away with it. I racked my bike and got on.
Crap, it was full today. Buncha stinking homeless people and crack addicts, no doubt. I scanned the bus for a seat. Damn it, no seats. Wait, there’s one. Oh, shit. It’s up front. In handicapped. Where the fat people and the crazies with all their grocery bags sit.
Just my luck, too. The fattest man I think I’d ever seen was sitting right next to it, and gestured to it, offering it to me. We made eye contact. Fuck, now I’m trapped.
I wedge myself in and settle in for an unpleasant ride. And then, just to make matters worse, fatso starts talking.
“So,” he says, “I have a theory.”
I hope he doesn’t see me roll my eyes.
“Yes. You see, you spend all that time exercising and eating right - I don’t know you, but one can tell just by looking. And for what?”
“I just like to look good, man, that’s all.” God, I wished he’d shut up.
“Ah, yes, exactly, that’s it! Why do you want to look good? For whom do you need to look good?”
I was already stressed from sprinting to the bus and then the crowded bus, sitting next to Dumbo here, and now this. I’d had enough.
“Look, man, you may not think it’s important to stay in shape but I do, and that’s it. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to try and relax for the rest of the ride.”
“Oh, yes, by all means, relax! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was merely observing that being as fit as you are strikes me as a rather… well, you’re seeking approval from others, no?”
I just rolled my eyes. Maybe if I didn’t respond he’d shut the fuck up.
“And doing things to impress others and secure their approval, well, that’s rather like what a dog does for its master, yes?”
OK, this was getting weird.
“It’s really a rather submissive thing to do. Do you think of yourself as submissive?”
That was it. “No - look, I don’t know what you’re talking about but it’s fuckin’ weird, man. How about you leave me alone and I’ll pretend this never happened?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry if I’m bothering you,” he apologized, but then didn’t stop. “I just wonder why you’re reacting so strongly. You see, I have a second part to my theory.”
“Let me guess: You’re going to tell me it.”
“Ha!” The fat man chuckled, “Only since you insisted!” I shook my head in disgust, but he continued, oblivious. “Where your physique and demeanor strongly imply you are submissive, mine implies the opposite.”
“Oh yeah?” Now he’d gotten me worked up. “That’s what your ‘physique’ is saying? I just thought it meant you ate like shit and didn’t exercise.”
He grinned. “Touche, young sir, but no. See, where you spend time on your physique to seek approval from others, I have no such concern. My physique says, I live a rich life of excess. I eat what I want, when I want, and for Heaven’s sake I don’t waste away the hours in a gym, picking up heavy things just to put them back down.”
“No,” I agreed, snidely, “You certainly don’t.”
“Furthermore, my physique says, even more, I don’t need to be fit because I don’t need to lift heavy things, or chase things, or really do much of anything. I’m a superior man, my physique says, so I have other people to do those things for me.”
“Is that why you’re riding a city bus?”
He ignored my jab. “So, how about it?”
“How about what?”
“You’re a submissive boy looking to serve, and I’m a superior man looking for a servant. A match made in Heaven, yes?”
I tried to jump to my feet but I was so wedged into the seat now I couldn’t budge. Still, I yelled in disgust, drawing stares.
“No! What the fuck, you sicko? You some kind of faggot? Fuck you, fatso, let me up.”
The fat fucking pervert seemed completely unfazed. He just smiled and moved. I got off at the next stop, even though it wasn’t mine.
Goddamn it, there he was again. Same crowded bus. Same single seat. Fuck that. I stood next to him.
“Still perturbed by yesterday’s conversation, young man?”
“Look man, just leave me alone.”
“How can I leave you alone when it’s so clear we’re such a great match, you and I?”
“Jesus Christ, dude, that’s fuckin’ nasty.”
“Deep down in your heart you know it’s true.”
“Shut the fuck up, faggot.”
“I’ll tell you what: why don’t you sleep on it tonight and let it sink in a bit, and we’ll try this again tomorrow.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
He didn’t even reply. God, you meet the weirdest fucking psychos on the buses in this city.
Barely made the goddamned bus today. Had to run down the stairs. Bus was really crowded. Goddamn it, there was only one seat open. Right in the front, with the fatties. In fact, this one was next to the fattest guy I’ve ever seen.
For some reason he looked kind of familiar but I couldn’t really remember where from. But when he gestured to me to sit down I felt kind of OK with it. That was weird. Usually fatties give me the fucking creeps.
“So,” he started, when I’d sat, “I have a theory.”
“Oh yeah?” I was in a good mood. Otherwise I usually just put my headphones in and tune everyone out. What the hell, I’d hear this dude out.
“Yes. You see, that body of yours…”
This dude sure could talk. He kept rambling so much I could barely stay awake. But the gist of it, I think, was that since I’m really fit I must want others’ attention and that means I’m submissive. Kind of a weird idea, but then he said, he’s the opposite since he obviously doesn’t care what people think, and since he’s so fucking fat that must mean he has someone to do shit for him.
“I’m not gonna lie, man, that’s a weird theory,” I told him, after he’d finished. “But this is my stop, I gotta go.”
“Indeed. Well, have a good day. Maybe tomorrow you should switch to wearing spandex gear for biking, yes?”
For some reason it seemed like a decent idea. “Sure,” I said, “Why not.”
I had some weird fucking dreams last night. It was me and that fat dude from the bus. They were kind of boring dreams. I was just, like, doing stuff. Cleaning and mopping floors and cooking and stuff, but he was there. It wasn’t my apartment. I don’t know where I was. But then the weird thing was, I woke up with a huge fucking boner. I had to beat off three times before I could get it down enough to get my bike shorts on. And even then I was still kind of hard and you could see it in the spandex.
I missed the bus, I was so late. I sat down on the bench to wait and, weird coincidence, the fat dude walks right up next to me. Man, he dressed nice. Nice suit, big coat, nice cane with a gold top to it.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, man.”
“Oh, you have?”
“I think maybe you’re right about the submission thing. It’s weird, the more I think about it the more sense it makes. I mean, why else would I care about keeping my body so good, right?”
“Precisely. Except for looking good for others, and for doing hard labor.”
“Yeah, and that’s not really why I think I do it, but… like I said, it does make a lot of sense.”
“I see you wore the spandex today, just like I told you to.”
“Yeah, I guess that made sense too.”
“What made sense about it?”
“Uh… I dunno, really. I guess I just wanted to do it because you told me to.”
“You like following orders, do you?”
“Not like military-like, nah. My dad wanted me to enlist but it’s not my thing.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean like that. The military is so… well, so vulgar, if you ask me. I prefer things more… sophisticated. You know, like the concierge at a fine hotel. Compliant. Eager to please. And respectful of a distinguished gentleman’s status. They know their place. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, when you say it like that… yeah, I guess I do like following those kinds of orders. Huh, I never thought about that before.”
“All it takes is planting the seed, my boy.”
At the end of our bus ride I didn’t really want to leave.
“Hey, man, I… I kind of like our bus rides together. I mean, I’d like to, well, if there’s anything else you want me to do, maybe I could do that for you? You know what I mean?”
“I’m not sure I do, young man. You’re stammering. Nonetheless, I’ve enjoyed our time as well. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Fuck, I got off the bus and realized for some reason I was totally hard right in my bike shorts! I hadn’t even noticed the whole ride, and I just walked right off with a big ol’ boner stretched across the spandex. Fuck, I hope nobody noticed.
Holy shit, the dreams were like ten times as intense last night. I kept waking up during the night it was so intense. In the dream I was in some big mansion, I think it was his. He just kept telling me what to do and I’d just say “Yes, of course, sir” just like he said, like I worked in a hotel and he was some important guest, and I’d just do whatever he said.
It started out like that, just normal stuff. I was bringing him food, or cleaning, or whatever. But then it got fucking weird. He was naked, and I was wearing some uniform and washing him, or something. I don’t remember any more because I woke up blowing a load! It was fucked up! I woke up pumping out jizz all over myself! I don’t even think I wiped it up, I was so tired I just passed back out.
Except it kept happening. Finally I just grabbed my bike shorts off the side of the bed and yanked them on. I kept waking up blowing loads but at least the shorts mostly held it in.
I made it to the bus stop early because I could hardly sleep. My bike shorts were dripping with cum. I couldn’t wait to see him.
Oh, and there he was. I ran over excitedly. I had such a boner in my shorts.
“I had the craziest dreams last night.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You know? How would you know?”
“Because that’s part of it. That’s how it works. Look at you, you’re soaked in your own jizz. How humiliating.”
I came in my shorts when he said that. I moaned out loud. I didn’t care who heard. “OK, look, man, if you already know what the dreams were about then I can just cut right to the chase: You were totally right all along about the submissive thing.”
“Yes, of course, I know.”
“So what, my boy?”
“Take me home! Make me your slave! Use me like in the dreams!”
“Oh, no. It can’t work like that, I’m afraid.”
My heart skipped a beat. “W-what?”
He spun to face me and hissed, “Like I told you yesterday, boy, I live a distinguished life! Not a life where cum-drenched sluts come proposition me at a bus station. You’ll just have to stew in your own juices for today, I’m afraid. This isn’t how it goes.”
I was heartbroken. “I - No, please, what do you mean? I want to be yours, I want to serve you and do everything for you!”
The fat man rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, but these things work in their own time. Calm down. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes sir, I can’t wait.”
DAY 5, CONTINUED
“So”, I began. He glanced my way. “I have a theory.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yes. I was thinking the other day, all the biking I do, all that working out, what is it for?”
He looked at me with mild suspicion. “I can’t say I understand it myself.”
“Well, it’s nice to be strong, and all. But let’s be honest, it’s mostly vanity.”
He chuckled. “Then I’ll take it as a compliment that in your theory I’m clearly not vain.”
“Oh, it’s more than that! I’m staying in shape but I’m not around a mirror all day, so it’s really for the benefit of others, right?”
He nodded tentatively. I hoped it was working. I couldn’t even tell if he swung my way or not, yet.
“Plus, let’s be honest, I don’t need all this spandex on just for riding comfort.” I gestured to my body. I moved my bag a tiny bit, just enough that I hoped he’d catch a hint of the outline of my cock, rock hard even with the fear of the situation coursing through my veins.
“OK, what’s your point?”
“That’s just half of it: I work out to look good for others. It’s kind of a submissive thing to do, don’t you think?”
“If I say yes, will you tell me the other half of your theory?”
“Yes!” I grinned. “The other half is that someone like you, well, where I exude submission, everything about you screams ‘superior.’”
His eyebrow went right back up. “Oh, does it?”
“Look, you clearly have the luxury to enjoy life. Your physique says: I don’t need to be in that kind of shape, because I’m not so desperate to impress anyone.”
He frowned, thinking it over, and then nodded.
“In fact, your physique says, I’m so superior that I don’t need to be in shape even to do things for myself. Because a man like you has someone to do those things for him.”
My breathing was heavy and my cock was pulsing in my lycra shorts. I just wanted him to agree so I could serve him. All I wanted was to devote my young, lean, fit body to the work it was meant for: the care and service of this massive older man, obviously my superior in every way.
“Ah,” he said, “I’ve found a problem with your theory, then. See, I don’t have someone to do things for me.”
I was so close, but even here at the very home stretch I hesitated for a fraction of a second before smiling and saying, “What a coincidence. I don’t have anyone to submit to.”
We sat in silence for just a moment while I gathered the courage to speak again. “Look, I don’t know you, we just randomly met on the bus. But I’d really like to serve you. I’d like to dedicate my life to serving you. I think a man like you deserves to be served, and I was put on this earth to serve a superior man.” My heart was racing.
“Well, then,” he replied in a soothing, fatherly tone and smiling, “Come with me, young… what was your name?”
I inhaled to respond and he smiled. “Actually, never mind. I’ll call you ‘boy’. Come with me, boy.”
At that he reached down and discretely grabbed my cock through the spadex and squeezed. The feel of his warm hand squeezing my already rock-hard leaking cock right pushed me over the edge. I shuddered and twitched even as I tried my hardest to be discreet while I had a mind-blowing orgasm and pumped out a huge load of sticky cum right into my bike shorts. I glanced around nervously but nobody seemed the wiser.
He grinned as he used his cane to stand up.
“Let me help you with that, sir,” I immediately stepped up to help him up. He accepted my hands and I led him carefully out of the bus, cum seeping out the front of my shorts and down my leg.
All my dreams were coming true.
His house was strangely familiar, like maybe one I’d seen once in a dream. A huge mansion. So much work to do. I could hardly wait to start.
First he made me undress him and hang his clothes neatly. As I stripped him down and exposed his beautiful body my cock ached in my bike shorts. Finally he was completely naked, his rolls and jowls and flab hanging out everywhere. I was awestruck by the sight. Such an amazing man for me to serve. I could hardly believe it. I’d found my purpose in life, I knew it.
Then he made me undress myself while he watched. I peeled the spandex off piece by piece, hard as a rock knowing I was doing his bidding.
“There’s that body. So glad you’ve kept it in shape for me. And now you see what I mean by submission.”
“Yes, sir, I do.” I kept gyrating. He laid back, his rolls of fat spilling over the side of the bed and nearly hanging to the floor.
“Come here, you hot piece of ass.”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir.”
I climbed on top of him and straddled his huge body to save him the effort of moving.
“Bring me food, boy. I think it’s time for my feeding.”
“Yes, sir, right away.” I walked to the kitchen and began work on an elaborate meal. Somehow I knew how to cook it, though I’d never been much of a cook back at home. I brought it in on a variety of silver trays and arranged them around his enormous form.
“Now sink that hot little pussy down on my cock while you feed me.”
I moaned in anticipation, but again I just said, “Yes, sir, as you wish.” Letting him order me around and responding like that made my cock burp up precum that I could feel running down my leg.
I pushed apart the rolls of his fat down near his crotch until I found his sticky, hard cock poking up. I lubed up my hole and sat down on it, feeling it drive up inside me and open up my virgin hole. And just as I realized I’d given him my anal virginity, I exploded.
“OOHHHH - OOHHHH, YES!” I shouted, before I caught myself and regained composure. My cock exploded all over his belly, coating him in viscous jizz.
“WHAT?” He roared. “HOW DARE YOU? You’re just a SERVANT, and you dare get your filthy seed all over my body?”
“I’m - I’m so sorry, sir, so sorry, it’ll never happen again, I assure you,” I stammered, petrified. Only three hours into my servitude and already I was fucking it up.
“Oh, no, it won’t, you’re right about that,” he snapped back, and reached down to the nightstand. He pulled out a small device, just curved metal bars with a small padlock. He held it out to me.
“What’s this, sir?”
“It’s a chastity cage for that filthy cock of yours. You need to learn some self-control, boy, and this seems to be the only way you’ll learn.”
I felt a little flutter in my head when he gave me the chastity cage. Was this really what I wanted? My life felt hazy, before these past few days. Was this really what I’d always wanted?
“Put it on yourself,” he ordered.
My doubt hadn’t quite resolved, but my hands went to work. I fumbled with the device but managed to figure out how to put it on. My cock was still hard, so it took some painful squeezing to get it on. When it clicked into place, he smiled.
“Good, boy, now we won’t have any problems with that anymore. Now, give me the key.”
I handed it to him, but gasped as he snapped it in half.
“You serve me,” he explained, “You’re my servant. That’s as it should be. It’s your whole purpose in life. It’s what you do, it’s what you are. When I am happy, my happiness is your reward. When I fuck you, it is reward enough for you that I fill you with my cum. You don’t need anything else. You don’t need to use that nasty cock of yours. Obviously it only interferes with your ability to serve me. So I took it away. Just like I’ll take away anything else that interferes with your duties. Do you understand me?”
My cock strained against the metal bars. They hurt, holding it in. I couldn’t get hard, though I desperately wanted to. It started to dawn on me that I might never again.
“Yes, sir, of course, sir.”
“Good. Now, feed me, boy.”