The Next Morning
Ian has been chasing this new honey online, but his chase has gotten off course …
Near Castro and the 22nd, there stands a nightclub simply called “The Club”. The front of this 2 ½-story building is rather bland, a beige stucco exterior with a chocolate brown awning. The brown front door also appeared oddly conservative given the neighborhood. The Castro section of the city had the reputation as the gay community’s oasis of action. As I alighted from the taxi and approached the entrance of “The Club”, I sensed something different, something weird, but I plodded along pursuing a road that I charted three weeks ago.
For some time, I have had no luck in dating, especially these last three years since my divorce. I finally opted to complete an online dating service questionnaire and hoped for the best. I met a couple of people, nothing worth bragging. Three weeks ago, I connected with someone and started email conversations. These emails started out pretty vanilla, but then turned into long-winded sessions. Since I am currently unemployed, I had nothing better to do but spend the time pursuing this online honey. For example, about ten days ago, the young lady and I were on Skype for over two hours; I don’t even remember the conversation. Her camera was not working and some screen saver kept flashing on my screen. The last email she sent two days ago suggested we go to this nightclub in the Castro. I don’t know why she wanted to go there (it’s a gay nightclub). She thought it would be fun, great place for dancing. Driven by my pursuit of pussy, I went along. She told me to get there about 8:30pm. If I did not see her, I should ask the bartender for “Swaggy D.”
When I walked in, I scoped the area. Gay, as all hell. I did not see Deborah. In fact, I saw no females in this establishment. I approached one of the bartenders and said, “I’m looking for Swaggy D.”
The bartended gave me the once-over and said, “Nice. I’ll take you ‘round back.” The bartender left the bar and escorted me down a hallway to an office where Deborah was seated at this expansive leather couch. As soon as saw Deborah, I heard another voice say, “Midnight Cowboy.” I don’t remember anything after that.
As soon as I said “Midnight Cowboy”, my new employee/servant, Ian, froze in place, with a blank expression on his face, dumbfounded, and very unaware of his trance.
“Nice. Let’s get a good look in the flesh. Strip.” With that command, Ian began to remove each and every article of clothing. As he continued to expose more and more skin, I knew I hit pay dirt with this one. At 6’3”, he had those beautiful broad shoulders, sculpted chest, narrow waist, unbelievable abs, a beautiful V pointing to his groin. When he removed his trunks, I knew that Ian would serve me well.
“I can have him cleaned up in about an hour.”, Deborah said. “ We’ll trim the bush and get rid of all the body hair. With that physique, damn.” Deborah smiled.
“Cowboy, follow me.” Deborah and I led Ian to the shower so that she would work her magic and clean up Ian. When she was done, Ian returned to my office where he sat on the couch. “For you.” I handed Deborah and envelope as she walked out of Damon’s office.
“Thank you, Damon.”, replied Deborah as she exited the office. Once the door closed, one of my associates locked the door and rendered the area safe.
“Cowboy, I want you to listen to my voice. I’m going to count down from ten. As I do, I want you to relax and let yourself go even more than you are now. Understand?” Ian answered yes. “Good. Ten, nine, eight, seven. Relax, eyes getting heavy. Six, five , four, eyes heavier still. Three, two, eyes can barely stay open. One, eyes closed. Relax.” Ian sat on the couch, his head reclined, eyes closed, body limp, totally relaxed.
“Ian, close your eyes and start rubbing your cock. As you stroke yourself, I want you to picture the most beautiful women sucking your cock, tonguing your shaft, licking your balls. Can you see it?” Ian nodded yes. “Good. Keep stroking, get yourself hard.” As he did so, a young man knelt before Ian and began to fondle his cock and balls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ian smiled and nodded yes. “Lie still.” The young man continued to lick and suck Ian, until he was writhing and moaning. “Now, don’t move but open your eyes.” Ian lay there surprised to find the young man swallowing his throbbing 8 ½ “cock. “You like the young man sucking your cock, don’t you? You want other young men to suck your cock, don’t you?” Ian tried to resist, but the swelling and throbbing of his cock only clouded his mind.
Finally, Ian shouted, “But, I’m straight.”
“Do you want to cum?” Ian nodded yes. “If you were straight, you’d be limp. You want to cum, don’t you? You want young men to suck your cock and fuck your ass, don’t you?”
“No … I … I …” Ian moaned.
“Ian, you like Carlos’ sucking your cock. It makes you feel strong, powerful.” The young lad, Carlos, continued to suck Ian even faster. “Ian, you’re hard. If you cum, that’s means you’re gay.”
Ian lay there writhing in pleasure, his cock hardening and tensing. As the minutes passed, Ian cried out, “I wanna cum.”
“You can cum if you admit that you like your cock sucked by other men.”
“Yes. Anything you say.” With that, Ian shot his load all over Carlos’ face and lips. I ordered Carlos to pushed Ian on his back, lube his ass, and fucked him silly. Within minutes, Carlos shot his load all over Ian’s ass.
“You love having your cock sucked and ass plowed, don’t you?.”, I asked
“Yes.”, Ian admitted.
“When you hear the phrase, Midnight Cowboy, you will return to this trance-like state, ever deeper and deeper. Now go the bathroom, shower with Carlos and do everything Carlos tells you do.”
The boys left the office and showered together, enjoying each other’s bodies as they did so. Ian learned to suck cock in the shower, practicing on Carlos’s meaty member. When they returned, I said to Ian, “Sit down on the couch.” Ian resumed his seat on the couch.
“Now, watch Carlos and learn.”
In the corner of the office, there was a stripper pole. Carlos approached the pole and began to dance on the pole as if performing a routine. As Carlos was demonstrating his pole dance technique, I said to Ian, “You could do that. I bet you could do that right now. Carlos, let Ian try.” Ian approached the pole and began to maneuver the pole like a pro. “Nice job. Like a pro.” I leaned over to one of my associates. “Those emails I sent him with the videos on pole dancing – looks like they worked.” I laughed to myself. “Ian, how would you like to try that in public? The money you could make.”
“Maybe if …”
“Ian, tonight you’re going to debut as a pole dancer. I want you to follow Carlos. He’ll take you to the dressing room and get you set up. All my directions, all my instructions, everything you have learned today, you will remember as if you have always known these facts. On the count of three, you’ll wake up. 1-2-3.” With that Ian awoke from trance. I said, “Okay, Ian, I’ll give you a shot. Go to the dressing room and get ready. You’ll be on in fifteen minutes. Carlos will take you downstairs.” When Ian hesitated, I said, “Go. Stop waisting time.”
Carlos and Ian left my office unaware that they were still naked. They sauntered down the hall and descended a flight of stairs to the rear stage area of the nightclub, to the dressing room where performers would prepare themselves before they went on stage. Carlos gave Ian the costume I chose: a sexy cowboy. Ian donned the costume and the mask. At midnight, I announced to the patrons of the “The Club” the arrival of a new performer, “The Midnight Cowboy.” Ian took the stage, danced around that silvery pole, and stripped for the gallery of 100+ sexed-up men. Once Ian completed his dance, he left the stage and returned to the dressing room. A stagehand followed Ian and handed him two bursting handfuls of dollar bills – 5s, 10s and 20s.
“That’s a good night. Count it, Ian.” As Ian counted the currency, I noticed his child-like fascination with counting his money. When he was prepared to tell me the amount, I said to him, “Midnight Cowboy.” Immediately, Ian resumed his trance. “Hand me the money.” Ian handed me the money. “Now, put this on and follow me.” I handed Ian a copper colored jock strap and a copper metallic mask, which he put on and followed me up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. I led him to a dimly lit room that had a king size bed. “Whoever comes in here, he wants to have a good time. If he wants to suck your cock, you let him. If he wants his cock sucked, you do it. If he wants to fuck or be fucked, you do what you have to. Understood?” Ian nodded yes. “On 3, you’ll come out of trance. You’ll remember all of my instructions. You will love your new job.”
I left Ian in the V.I.P. Suite. In that suite, he would entertain the exclusive members of “The Club”, members who have paid a premium membership for the privilege of having sex with anonymous straight guys. I eased Ian into his new job that first night. I escorted only three members for Ian to entertain. At around 3am, I gave Ian his clothes, told him to dress, and led him to the limo for his ride home. Before he left, I placed him trance again and said, “Ian, you will go home and fall asleep. When you see emails from Deborah, you will respond without hesitation. Whatever instructions are in those emails, you will follow. As for the money on your person, that’s money to pay your rent, food, some fun stuff, but nothing extravagant.” After I brought Ian back from trance, I said to him. “Go. You’ve worked enough.” Ian left the suite a little confused, but clearly spent. I waved good-bye, knowing that demand for Ian would create an increase in VIP memberships.
The next morning, I woke in my apartment, tired, but not exhausted. I don’t remember much, but I must have had a good time. The email from Deborah said we had a good time, and that I was an animal. I’m just glad I got laid. It’s been so long I enjoyed any pussy. Even if I had to go to that gay joint to get it.
Of course, I’m not sure where the $1847.00 came from. I’ll bet Deborah knows. When I see her or talk to her, I’ll make sure to ask.