The Enemy of an Enemy is My Master
A Writing Challenge: Jared tries to do the right then and look out for his work rival.
This story is part of a Writing Challenge in which I asked people who follow my blog to give me certain parameters to which I use to write a short story.
Two characters’ names: Jared and Tom.
Their relation: Enemies.
A Location: dark alley. locker room.
An Object: A belt.
A Type of uniform/costume: Speedos.
A non-spandex fetish: Bondage. Boots. Cigars.
The club was my haven. A place safe from the job, the ex-wife, the kids, and the stresses of daily life. A place to come where I can sit, relax, drink a scotch, and smoke a stogie while enjoying the company of other gentlemen who have my same taste in leisure.
Sitting in a comfortable chair, I puffed on my cigar while reading today’s headlines. I savored the taste of it in my mouth and folded down to meet the gaze of the young bartender. I picked up my empty scotch glass and signaled for another. The young twenty year old got the message and brought me a fresh glass.
Then I saw him. Sitting at the bar, it was Tom. I worked with Tom. We were both in sales. He only looked out for himself. I hated him. I thought I was safe from him here, but I was wrong.
“Jared!” Tom said. He told the bartender to bring him his drink and headed over to sit next to me. “I didn’t know you were a member here.”
“I only come on Tuesdays,” I said wanting to get back to my paper.
“That must be it. I should switch to Tuesdays myself.” Tom said. “Gets kind of boring sometimes with no one to talk to. Say you got another one of those?”
He motioned to my cigar. “Sorry it’s the last one.”
“Too bad, too bad.” Tom said.
“Would you two need anything else?” It was the bartender delivering Tom’s Coke and Jack.
“None for me,” Tom said and I shook my head. For a brief moment, I thought I saw the bartender slip something into Tom’s drink but I shook it off as wishful thinking.
Tom started talking to me as I coldly tried to hint I wanted to be left alone. It didn’t take long before his speech started slurring and he stopped making cohesive sentences.
I had never seen him that drunk before. And he did get drunk at the Christmas parties.
He then stood up and excused himself, at least it sounded as such. He staggered over to the door. Suddenly the bartender was next to his side and started helping him toward the entrance.
I went back to my paper but something nudged at me. Had I seen the bartender slip something into Tom’s drink? Should I care about his safety? I couldn’t help but feel like if something happened to him it would be my fault. I stood up and followed them.
Outside I didn’t see them. But I did hear Tom’s slurred speech coming from a dark alley. I ran down it to see the Bartender helping Tom into a car. It wasn’t Tom’s car and it wasn’t a taxi.
“What are you doing with Tom?” I asked.
“I’m helping him get home,” He said.
“Bullshit,” I said. “I saw you put something in his drink.”
“Oh you saw that?” The bartender asked. He didn’t sound remorseful as if he had just gotten caught. He sounded pleased with himself.
Then suddenly my head hurt and the world went black.
When I awoke, I found my arms tied to a board. The board hung from the ceiling and held me up as well. I found my footing and stood on my own feet. In front of me was Tom. He was on his back across a bench with his hands tied underneath it and a rope around his waist tieing him to the bench. We were both naked and in what looked like a lockerroom.
The Bartender entered the room from an arch way with the sign over it that read “Showers.” He was wearing a black rubber harness across his chest, royal blue speedo shorts and was barefoot. He was carrying a belt. “Master, they are awake.”
Another man who I’ve never seen before also entered from the showers. He’s wearing a black speedo bodysuit and shiney black rubber boots that came up to his ankle.
Tom turned to look and started mouthing off. It seemed like Tom knew him. The man who the bartender called Master told to boy to whip him. Tom’s ranting turned to screams of pain as the slave hit the belt against his abdomin. Tom began bawling. Several hits later the Master told his slave to finish the job and then the Master turned to look at me. He approached me slowly, there was a grin on his face.
“I’m sorry you happened to get mixed up in this,” the Master said. “Well not that sorry.”
“Are you going to kill him?” I asked. Unlike Tom, I didn’t need to puff out my chest and spew threats at my captor. I knew as soon as I was free, I’d make him regret doing this to me. I’m sure my silence and the look on my face informed him of that.
The Master laughed, “Oh no. I’d never killed somone who is as beautiful as that. He’s to join my service.” As we were talking, the slave slipped something in Tom’s mouth and made him swallow it. Tom’s crying slowly subsided and the slave dressed him in the same speedos that were red.
“And me?” I asked.
“And you,” the Master said back to me. He took some steps forward. “What to do with you? I could do a lot with you.” He survied my body, touching me on my ass and pulling my dick.
I reached up with my legs and wrapped them around his torso, squeezing as hard as I could. The Master started laughing and then let his body go limp. I dropped him quickly feeling the pain in my arms as the weight pulled me down.
“Good one,” the Master said getting up from the floor. “Slave Ben, bring me the belt.”
The bartender followed his Master’s commands. “Now don’t do that again.” He slapped my ass with the belt.
I held my screams in as the pain stung with each wack. I bared down on my mouth, I wouldn’t let him win. All I had to do was play along until he freed me, then he was dead.
He stopped spanking me after about ten wacks, “I’m sorry, I had to do that.” He bent down and kissed my ass, then started massaging it.
“I’m sorry I tried that,” I said. He’d never free me if I wasn’t complacent. I looked over to Tom. He was now free and stood right next to the slave. The same look on both of their faces. What did he put in Tom’s mouth and did he have any more?
The Master came back from around me with a smile on his face. “Are you sorry?” I nodded. He laughed. “I like you. Tom tried to screw me over so now I’m screwing him.”
“Tom’s a dick,” I said. “He deserved it.”
“I’m glad we agree,” the Master said. “Want him to show you what a good slave he is?”
“I’d rather just go home,” I said.
The smile on the Master’s face vanished. “After everything you know, you just want me to send you home?”
“You made Tom your slave. Maybe you have something that can make me forget.” I said.
A small smile returned. “I can make it to where the next thing you remember is waking up in your bed without a care in the world. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” I said, wanting anything to get out of here.
The Master left and Tom and the other slave just stood there staring at me while playing with their bulges.
“Enjoying what you see?” I asked rhetorically.
“We enjoy everything the Master does.” They both said in unison.
How the hell did I get here? It was all Tom’s fault. I hated him now more than ever. The Master returned with a small bottle in his hand.
My plan was simple. Allow him to untie my arm so I could drink it and instead hit the son of a bitch. Then attempt to make it out. I’m sure if I was free I would be able to take all of them, even with my other hand still tied to the board. On the other hand, if he forced it in my mouth I hope he’d live up to his part.
The Master walked up to me with the bottle out reached. I moved my head away while pretending I was reaching for it, to influence him into thinking he should untie me. “Oh no, I’m going to pour it in. Slave Ben lower him to his knees. Slave Tom grab hold of him so he doesn’t squirm.”
The slave went to the pulley system and lowered me down to where my knees touch the ground while Tom came behind me and straddled my body wraping his legs round me, pushing his lycra dick into my backside. His arms held my head up to look at the Master in the face.
The Master turned the bottle upside down but instead of pouring it in my mouth he spilt it on his black rubber boot. “Oops,” the Master said. “Looks like you’ll have to lick it off. Lower him slave Ben. Hold him slave Tom.”
Being lowered until I was laying on the ground, Tom pressed my head into the wet boot. A bit of the liquid touch my lips and I never had tasted anything as good. Without my permission, my tounge unleashed and started gliding over the black rubber. I couldn’t get enough. I felt my arms free from the board and without hesitation they grabbed the boot not letting it go as I did everything I could to get all of this taste off the boot.
“It’s time to dress him slaves.” I heard my Master say. I didn’t know, nor did I care, what they were doing but something tight and smooth slid up my lower half and around my hard cock. “Want more?” my Master said and poured more on his other boot. I jumped from one to the other. I licked both of them until they were spotless.
The next thing I remembered was waking up in my bed without a care in the world. I was in my haven. A place safe with my Master and our slaves. A place where I can lay down, relax, drink a tasty drink and smoke my Master’s cock.
If you’d like to challenge me, go here spandexland.tumblr.com/ask and let me know:
Two characters’ names:
A Type of uniform/costume:
A non-spandex fetish:
An unexpected visitor:
Anything interesting you think I should add:
All stories will include Spandex and Mind Control.