- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

OMG! It's a miracle! I'm back! Sorry for the long delay, I honestly have no excuse. Just been hard to get back in the habit but I'm trying to get out and away from the TV at least every second day and hopefully that will  increase to every day. New tablet is proving to be very user friendly after getting used to it.

Hopefully Ch 9 will be quicker to come.

 

Chapter 8

Two Weeks

 

Two weeks later.. :

 

Justin opened up shop with a whistle in his mouth and a song in his heart. He felt like a Disn--- uhhhh.... a cartoon princess. Well... you know... Those ones who had a penis.... and were ragingly and hornily gay.

Being debt-free agreed with Justin. A lot. No more hustling, no more Twelve, his mother was spending more and more time among the land of the living. She was also seeing a therapist twice a week to develop better coping mechanisms. Yes, things were looking up and the future was bright.

That is until two of Fagin's hired goons came into the shop, muscled their way to the front of the line said, with jocularity that was as fake as his smile, “Long time no see, Justin.” Then he drove the nail home. “We've missed seeing you on your corner. And the Boss (pronounced boh-oss) has missed his cut from you peddling that sweet ass of yours!”

Justin sighed as what few of his customers went running out the door. He couldn't really blame them though. He wished he could join them.

“In case you haven't noticed, I've changed professions. I don't hustle any more. You can tell... Fagin.... I quit!” He used the name viciously, knowing how Fagin hated having his name used in public

“You can tell him that yourself... when you bring him his money!” bit out Thug #1.

“Aren't you listening!? There isn't any money! I'm not hustling any more! I'm not going to hustle anymore. I've gone straight...well, legit anyway. At any rate, I'm not paying him a dime, ever again!”

“Then you can bring him 25% of whatever you're making in this pissant little fairy dump and count yourself lucky if he doesn't cut off a finger! D'uhhhh!! Nobody quits the boh-oss!!”

“Well I am! I did! I' through hustling and stealing and I'm through with the likes of you! This is my place and you can just... just get outta here! Get lost!”

Thugs Inc. did no such thing. Instead, they started giggling nastily and moronically. They raised up their baseball bats from and began happily swinging.

Justin ducked and a good thing too or they would have taken off his head.

Instead, they smashed in his fancy cappuccino machine. They smashed his coffees and all his teas all over the floor. They smashed all his tables and chairs into pieces. They finished off by swinging their bats through his beautiful plate glass front windows.

“Nice place you got here, Justin,” said one as he stepped through the window, showing a surprising bit of accidental intelligent humor.

“See you on the streets tomorrow, Justin,” said the other one. A command. “Bright and early.” They left.

Justin go up and stood there for a few minutes, not really knowing what to do. Truth be told, there was not much he could do. He'd left the lamp at home.

And a few minutes after that, of course, the brown haired, brown eyed dream, the six feet of sex poured into a suit, the hunk from the highway, walked up the street and poked his head into the smashed out window and then gingerly stepped inside.

“Doing a reno?” he asked mildly.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Justin burst into tears.

“No! I am not.... doing a reno! I was vandalized not five minutes ago by two thugs wearing wifebeaters.... and baseball bats!” he quipped viciously through his tears.
“Holy shit! Are you all right? No, of course you're not!” Brian stepped over, the broken glass crunching under his loafers. He surveyed the sad eyes and snotty snout of the young man and pulled out and proffered a silken snotrag with his monogram on it. “Blow,” he said.

Justin did, with a mighty and disgusting honk. He offered it back.

“Keep it. Scratch that. Have it washed and return it. Delicate cycle or it'll be chewed to pieces.”

“Of course. And such nice initials. BAK. Favorite position?”

“You're a cheeky twat. Brian Aiden Kinney. At your service. And you are?”

“Justin Taylor.”

Well, Justin, back to the matter at hand? Why were you vandalized? And...oh shit!... Shouldn't we call the cops!?”

He pulled out his cell in a flash but Justin put his soft hand in Brian's bigger one.

“No. No cops! They'd only tie me up in red tape all day and they can't put it back together again.”

“But this was a crime! Don't you want to catch whoever did this!?”

“I know who did this. Two thugs who work for a criminal who thinks he's my pimp and that I'm good for nothing except hustling!”

“Why would he think that?”

Because two weeks ago I WAS in his gang and I WAS a hustler. But not anymore! I came into... an inheritance... and I gave that up at once. Now...I own and run this place.”

“Well....you did,” Brian said regretfully, looking over the wreckage.

“Oh...I will again,”Justin said mildly. Now that the trauma had worn off and he had a comforting presence in Brian, his confidence was returning, “You should come again tomorrow. Everything will be back to normal. Better even.”

“Oh? And how are you going to manage that?”

“I have.... insurance,” Justin replied.

“Mmmmmm—hmmmmmmm,” Brian hmmed which was to say he didn't believe it.

Come and see,” Justin challenged again.

“All right, I will. In the meantime, how bout we get out of here? We can finish this conversation somewhere more... comfortable. Ever been to Liberty Diner?”

“Frequently. I love Debbie. And I think that's a great idea. Just let me empty the register.”

This he did in haste, and then joined Brian in vacating the shattered shop.

 

Liberty Diner......

Brian looked across the booth at the blond beauty and felt the day's angst slide off him. He was reminded of that long ago disaster date when he had envisioned a blond hunk with a short part like Justin's. His hunk would have had a deep chest and biceps to hold onto and while Justin wasn't built like that, he had a good body and cupid bow lips without seeming effeminate. Then he had gone to the dining room to discover...her. He shuddered.

“Everything OK?” Justin asked.

“Oh yeah...Just...a bad memory.”

“Oh yeah. I guess you must come here with a lot of guys huh? Is it the booth? Should we switch seats?” Brian did not miss the slightly disappointed tone come into the young man's voice.

“No! It's nothing like that. I mean, I come here a bit but nothing romantic happened. It was a long time ago.... My dad tried to play matchmaker and... well, I won't get into it.”

“All right.” There was a pause. “You know, what I'd really like to know is why now? I invited you to my shop two weeks ago. But you never did come.”

“I was planning on it.... Then I just...I just...” His brow furrowed as Brian struggled to remember.

“You just what?”

“I guess I must have been more tired than I thought. The next thing I remember is waking up after a movie at my house with Mikey.”

“Oh? Who's Mikey?” asked Justin, trying and succeeding not to sound jealous. Mostly. After all, this stunning man was clearly not a virgin.

“He's my best friend. You know, you get one from childhood, that type of thing.”

Justin wished he did know.

“Anyway, after that, things got really busy. I'd had a really shit day that first day and gave my boss an ultimatum that could have got me fired.”

“Ballsy,” commented Justin.

Brian smirked. “My boss thought so too. I got no text response which was the signal to come in the next day. So I did and pretended the first day never happened. And my micromanaging supervisor, who was the problem in the first place, stayed far away from me. Now that I was left alone, I was able to double my workload. I set up dozens of meetings, ran pitches for ideas, signed on 6 new accounts. I kind of went into a workaholic haze and when I emerged yesterday, I got my supervisor's position.”

“And what happened to him?”

“No idea. Out of my hair for good, and that's all I care about. So anyway, I had some spare time, decided to take a half day and seek out the blond wet dream who was riding a flying carpet.”

“What?? Me? No... whaaaaa????” And with many other protestations and over the top comical gestures Justin attempted to deflect.

“Can it, Goldilocks! I remember what I saw. Care to explain.?”

“Not especially,” Justin rejoined brightly as he took a huge bite of his burger. He chewed slowly, keeping his mouth full for as long as possible hoping Brian would give up and ask another question.

Taking the hint, Brian changed tack and asked sternly, “So...can you tell me why your shop has been turned into Mike Holmes' wet dream?”

Justin thought a bit about how to explain. “Well, it's almost the exact opposite of your situation. I lifted myself out of a bad situation but that situation wants me back on the street hustling my ass so he can collect 25% of the take.”

“Oh. That's too bad. Do you need any help? You know any help with the reno? I mean...you're not going to go back are you?”

“Good God, NO! And you don't have to worry. If you come by the shop tomorrow, I'll have it fixed up good as new.”

“Huh!!? Justin... That's not possible!”

“Oh no?? Well then how about a little wager?”

“What do you mean?”
“Well, if I win, you take me out on a date... a real date, not this pussy-licking burger and fries bullshit but a...”
“Hey!!!” yelled Deb from somewhere.

“Sorry Deb!” Justin yelled out almost reflexively, “Oooops. But you know what I mean,” he said to Brian.

“Actually no, I don't! I've never been on a date in my life!” Brian declared a bit too vehemently.

“Dinner, something that requires a nice suit, maybe a nice pasta or French joint and then you take ME to a movie.”

“Mmmm-hmmmmm..... do go on,” Brian said shrewdly

“After that, you take me back to your place and make my eyes roll back into my head. Well...if you can,” said Justin impishly. “So that's a date.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” mmm-hmmm-ed Brian again, “And what do I get if you lose?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if I come by tomorrow and it still looks like those elephants charged through there. If I don't get the best cup of Earl Grey tea I've had in my life along with one of Deb's fresh lemon bars, then...what do I get?”

“I dunno... I hadn't considered it...since I'm going to win,” retorted Justin. “So..... Backalley Blowjob? …... Oh very well, I don't know then.... What do you want?”

“You tell me about the magic carpet. For starters. Then you tell me the rest of it. The inheritance. Why you were a hustler. Who's after you. The works. Tell me...everything.”

“Full disclosure, hmmmm? OK......... You have a deal.”

“Good.” Brian got up and came over to his side of the booth. “Shake on it?”

“Sure.” Justin held out his hand.

Looking back, he wondered how he didn't see through the con. But he didn't.

And so, it was very easy for Brian to grab his hand, pull him out of the booth and into his arms. And once he was there, it was very easy for him to cover his mouth with his own and tongue-fuck him mercilessly for several minutes, all the while massaging his crotch till he was satisfied that Justin had a raging boner that would remain for the rest of the day, or at least until Justin could find a private place. Then he released him with a pop and dropped him back into the booth. He bent over him, both of them breathing heavily.

“Still not sure.... if I can?” Brian asked a bit impishly himself, although he'd never admit it.

Justin didn't reply so Brian just laughed and left him there and left the Diner to go on with his day.

He was about a block away from the Diner and almost to his Jeep when his cell rang.

“Brian Kinney,” he said into it.

“The sun was shining on the sea, shining with all its might.”

Brian stopped. “It did its very best to make....the billows smooth and bright,” he said.

“And this was odd because....”

“It was the middle of the night,” Brian finished up the code sequence.

“I am the sun. I am the light of your world.” A confirmation.

“I am the moon. I ride the night, deep as midnight.” Brian was deep in trance and ready for orders.

“Where are you?”

“On the way to my car for a drive. I took the day off.”

“Good. Come to my office. I want you under my desk, begging for my cock in 15 minutes. Be in uniform,” said Michael.

“Yes.....Master.”

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Michael had had a prosperous two weeks as well.

That next day, after Brian had set up his interview with Mayor Jack Kinney, Michael dressed in a clean white shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. He wore a nice black tie. He brought a resume that was largely.... exaggerated, to use a nice word. Unfortunately, he couldn't fake his schooling but a lot of the work history was downright fiction. He added the Q but kept it minimal.

All too soon, the appointed time arrived and Michael arrived at Jack's office door. He was nervous but not for the reason most people would think. He knocked. He pulled out the snake medallion so that it rested over his heart on the outside of his shirt.

“Come in,” called Jack.

Michael did. He went over and sat down in the chair across from Mayor Uncle Jack (well, he practically was since Brian and him were so close) and smiled slightly as he saw the exact moment when Jack's eyes were caught and trapped by the snake's red eyes.

“Hello , Uncle Jack. Thank you for seeing me. Although, it doesn't really matter since all you see are my friend's ruby red eyes and by now you are seeing without seeing, falling deeper and deeper, feeling more and more relaxed. Your eyes must watch his eyes, see without seeing drop without ending and let your eyes close now Jack. Sleep deep, relax, let the day drop away let your mind be consumed and let your will be replaced with my own. That's it, drop deep, so deep to that familiar sleep where you hear my voice and all you want to do is obey.”

“Obey.......” slurred Jack, eyes closed and head back on the headrest already. This wasn't a huge surprise to Michael as he had been priming both Jack and Brian for years.

“That's right. That's good Jack, very good. I'm going to count back from 10. With every number you can go twice as deeply asleep. Ten... Twice as deeply asleep. Nine.... The deeper you go the better you feel. Eight... Body so heavy and relaxed. Seven.... Mind so heavy and empty. Six.... Heavy... empty and relaxed. Five....Empty and open and heavy. Deeper. Four... Empty and open and obedient. Three.... Empty and open and obedient. Two..... Empty and open and obedient. One..... Zero. How are you feeling Jack?

“Empty and open and obedient. Relaxed...” sighed Jack.

“Good boy. Now in a few moments, we will start our interview for real. I will have just sat down. You will feel very dominant and in control but in reality , it is I who will be in control and you will follow my cues accordingly. You will accept my resume without hesitation and you will love it. You will be sympathetic to my plight and you WILL give me a job even if it is a low one. However, you will keep your eye on me and whatever I do will turn to gold. I can do no wrong. Over the next two weeks you will promote me several times and even after that until I am Chief City Councilman. Understand, Jack?”

“Yes Sir. Chief Councilman.” said Jack softly.

“OK. In a few moments, I will say a phrase and you will come to full awareness and start my interview.” Michael named the phrase. “Just relax and let this trance sink down and away, forgotten and down a deep dark drain where it can never be recovered. Relax deep, feeling great.” Michael gave him a few moments and tucked the snake back inside his shirt.

“Thanks a lot for seeing me Uncle Jack.”

Jack raised his head and smiled at Michael as he shook off the cobwebs. “Not at all, my boy, not at all. What can I do for you?” Shit! He didn't have one of those blackouts again did he? Not in front of Michael! He hoped not.

“Well, as Brian may have told you, I'm looking for a job. And I want to work for you, the mayor and for City Hall. I've been watching you work over the years and I've been taking a lot of internet courses in politics over the last few years.” This last part was a whopper of a lie but it sounded good and this seemed like something Michael could do once he was free of the Q.

“Michael, I see dozens of candidates all the time, college graduates, who I turn away. Why would I choose you?”

“Nepotism.” Michael said frankly and abruptly, purposely shocking Jack. “Look Un.... Mayor Jack, I've known your family since I was a teen and you know me. I'll work hard and what I don't know, I'll learn. And I'd much rather work in this stable environment then the diner or the Big Q where I'll go nowhere. Please.... I'm sure... there's something you can do,” he said with confidence.

“Yes...Well, let's have a look see....” Jack looked over the resume but it seemed like gibberish all of a sudden. He looked into Michael's soulful eyes and felt rather sorry for him. He'd heard from Brian how backbreaking and bigoted the work was in the bowels of the Q. Of course, Michael had spent several hours telling all his woes to Brian while Brian was in trance.

“Yes....yes, I'm sure there's something I can do.” he murmured and the tremulous and shy smile he got from Michael made him feel like a muscled spandex clad superhero instead of the rather opposite circumstance that was his reality.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

So here it was two weeks later. Jack gave him a job as a “Sanitation Engineer” which of course was just a fancy moniker for garbage man. However with all the clean energy and recycling going on in new Liberty, it was a much different and cleaner job than it used to be. A few days after that, his supervisor “fell” into the paper recycler and ended up in the glue-ey, slimy mess that was the toilet paper making vat. He barely made it out with his life, thanks to Michael pulling him out. Jack was amazed and impressed and offered Michael a promotion to city planning engineering. (street planning and maintenance) Michael graciously accepted. Somehow, the supervisor's claims that Michael had pushed him in the first place fell on deaf ears.

Michael stuck with that job for a week before he came up with an ingenious plan to have a bypass built that would allow travellers to skip the heavier traffic of the mid town while still hitting a gas station to fill up before heading to Vegas. Michael was hailed a hero and given a hefty pay rise and a promotion to one of Jack's personal advisors. Of course, the accusation that Michael had stolen the plans off of his supervisor's computer went on deaf ears. Everything Michael did turned to gold. That supervisor was just jealous and duly fired. Michael could do no wrong.

Of course, what nobody knew was, that night Michael hired a burly bodybuilder from his gym who was looking to work off his roid rage to capture that supervisor with chloroform, drive him 50 miles out of town into the desert and then off road till he was out of sight of said road. He was dumped out like a sack of garbage in the middle of the wilderness. He was of course, never seen again.

Michael now had a office that was as big as his apartment, on the 10th out of the14 floors of City Hall, his own secretary (male and built like a brick shithouse....of course), a whole wall that was a window with a fantastic view and money to burn. Of course, he didn't burn it but bought nice clothes and internet courses that he would study at night.

He was in said office, preparing for a teleconference when there was a buzz on his intercom.

“Brian Kinney to see you, Sir!” said the shithouse built secretary.

“Send him in.”

Brian entered, closed the door and locked it. Then he dropped to his knees and begged, albeit a bit woodenly, “Please Sir, may I have your cock!? Please sir please...”

Michael snapped his fingers sharply three times.

Brian got up at once and stood at attention, hands behind his back.

“There's no time for that now. I have to go into teleconference in a few minutes. You're late.”

“Yes Sir. Traffic was a bitch.”

“I assume you are in uniform.”

“Yes...Master. Under my street clothes.”

“Well....strip.”

Brian did so until he was in nothing but a clean white jock strap.

Michael slid his chair back a bit away from his desk. He snapped his fingers and pointed wordlessly down at his feet. Brian took a step forward to comply.

“Ahh...ahhh...ahhhh.... Crawl.” Michael said, cruelly.

Brian immediately dropped to all fours and crawled over to Michael's desk and then backed up until he was under it. Michael slid forward just as Jack rang him and the other councilors with Skype.

By this time, Michael was quite an expert. He was quite proud that he was able to maintain a passable poker face. None of the other councilors, not even his father guessed that his son, Brian Kinney was completely mind fucked and currently sucking him off expertly with slow, steady strokes.

 

TBC

stories/78/images/snake-with-red-eyes-necklace.jpg

 

You must login (register) to review.