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Chapter 20 - PC Craziness.
The boy couldn’t believe how out of control he felt. All day he’d been doing crazy shit that was so out of character for him. But he just couldn’t stop himself. He just felt so different that morning. The Master had called him brave. Was this what brave felt like? He didn’t know, but something had definitely changed.
The day before, the boy had felt like his usual timid, terrified self. Between the the trip to the doctor and the threat of that PC dinner party, he'd been scared out of his mind all day. Which was pretty much par for the course. But between then and now, something had happened. Something had changed.
Maybe it was because of the way the Master had stood up for him and protected him from the Handler and those men at the party? Or maybe it was the way the man had held him and comforted him after his nightmare? It was all so confusing. This Master had been acting far different than what the boy had been led to expect. He’d been considerate and caring and, so far, had kept his word about not pushing the boy. Despite the horror stories that everyone had told him - from the Handler on down to the other PCs - this Master hadn’t forced himself on the boy or taken his virginity yet. Not that the boy completely trusted him. He didn’t know if he could ever truly trust someone again. But after everything that had happened the day before, the boy supposed he was willing to give the man the benefit of a doubt.
Which probably explained why the boy was feeling so much more open towards the Master. But even that didn’t explain the other feelings the boy was having lately. Like the way he’d felt when he woke up that morning and noticed the way the Master was pressed up against his backside. The way the big hard cock had been sandwiched between their bodies, lying there all hot and just waiting. It had actually scared the boy when he realized he’d been hoping that the Master would move and that cock would slip down a little lower . . .
But before he could even begin to reconcile that vague longing, the Master had left the bed and hurried off to the shower by himself. The boy didn’t understand why he felt so disappointed by that. He didn’t stop to think about it, though, before he hopped out of bed himself and trotted off to the shower as well. And he still wasn’t really thinking when he'd acted so boldly, practically inviting the Master to touch him. He didn’t know how he’d dared to be so forward.
But it had felt so amazingly good. Nothing at all like the quickie hand jobs he’d given himself back Before. Nothing like the times he'd done the same, either to himself or to others during his PC training. This had felt so much better. The way the Master's hand had held their two cocks together and stroked them so firmly had been so perfect. He’d loved the feel of the Master’s cock against his own. The heat of it. The smoothness of the skin against his own. The pulsing hardness just under the skin. The boy couldn’t think of it even now without feeling a little aroused again. The Master had seemed to enjoy it too.
Maybe even better, though, was the feeling the boy got afterwards when Brian had said he was brave. The way Brian had smiled at him made something in his gut lurch. He’d felt proud of himself for the first time in so very long. And maybe even a little less scared.
After that the boy had been just floating along through the day. He hadn’t even felt concerned by all the people and noise in the diner. He found he liked listening to the banter between the Master and his friends. He liked the way Debbie would dote on him. He even liked the way the Master was being so very protective of him. He saw the warning looks the man gave to everyone who looked like they were going to say something to the PC. The boy thought it was sort of nice.
Even the gym wasn't so bad at first. Yes, it was crowded and noisy, but the Master and his friends were keeping close by, so he didn't feel too threatened by the hordes of people. The boy hadn't cared at all about the stuff the big black guy at the front desk had said - he was used to hearing a lot worse being said about PCs. The Master seemed a lot more upset by it than the boy was, but they worked it out in the end and the guy didn't seem that bad.
It wasn't till they had been at the gym for a good half hour or so that the boy started to get a little nervous. He didn't understand how to use all the equipment and he'd never worked out before in his life, so he'd mostly just followed along behind the Master, trying his best to stay out of the way. Apparently the Master found that a bit annoying, so he took the boy over to the row of exercise bikes, planted him on the last bike on the right, and told him to stay there. Which was fine - he did know how to bicycle, even if he didn’t really feel like he needed the exercise - except that, once he was sitting there alone, he started to feel all the stares directed his way. Putting one of the gym towels around his neck to hide the PC tattoo didn't help much. The whispering and leering continued. And, yes, the Master wasn't very far away - just over on the weight benches, in his direct line of sight - but it was far enough that the boy felt exposed. It was worse when the Master started talking with that big black guy from the front desk, laughing together and not really paying much attention anymore.
“How are you doing there, Baby?” the Master’s friend - the one called Emmett - came over and took the bike next to him. “You look a little bored. With that perfect little bubble butt of yours I don’t imagine you have to work out much. I, on the other hand, really need some work on my ass. I just haven’t found the right guy for the job yet, if you know what I mean. *Hahaha*”
The boy didn’t reply to the little joke, but he was grateful that the friend was there. It made the staring less frightening. He rather liked the tall friend too - he was very friendly.
“Hey, Honeycutt,” the Master came up just then, patted him on the shoulder and smiled while addressing the friend. “You mind keeping an eye on Justin for a bit. I’m heading into the steam room.”
“Sure thing, Brian. Baby and I will just hang out here and watch the lovely scenery,” the friend answered with a wink in the boy’s direction.
The Master wandered off towards the back where, presumably, the steam room was located, leaving them just sitting there. The nice black man from the desk followed behind him with a huge grin on his face. And the boy just sat there feeling . . . Lost? Abandoned? A little scared? But also, curious and strangely resentful that that man was taking the Master away.
But, since he’d been ordered to stay put, he didn’t have much choice. He just sat on the bike without pedalling, no longer even pretending to workout. He watched the people walking by watching him. He watched the friend chatting with a big buff guy wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Trainer’ until both of them wandered off together too. Then he waited some more.
But that crazy out of control feeling he’d had all day finally became too much for him. He was too antsy to just sit there, even after having been given a direct order. The boy just felt like he HAD to go and find the Master. He didn’t know why, but it was so compelling that he found himself getting up off the bike and heading in the direction of the steam room all on his own initiative. When he reached the door to the room, he pushed it open and walked right in with his clothing still on. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, but he needed to know.
The air in the room was thick with steam. It was difficult to see very far and, even though it wasn’t a large room, it took the boy a while before he found the Master and the big guy. The Master was seated on a tiled bench in the back corner of the room. The big guy was on his knees in front of the Master with his head in the seated man’s lap. The boy stood to the side so he was out of the way of traffic as other men came and went, several of them moving so as to have a better view of what was going on in that back corner. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the boy standing there in the steam.
As he watched the head capped with tight, dark curls bobbing at the Master’s crotch, the boy found himself awash with emotions he didn’t understand and couldn’t even name. He didn’t understand why he disliked this so much. He should be happy that the Master was using some other man to get his needs met - that meant he wouldn’t be bothering the boy, right? Wasn’t that what he wanted?
Justin had been only sixteen when he’d been contracted out. Prior to that, he really hadn’t had any sexual experience at all. He’d known he was gay since he was ten, but that didn’t mean anything to him other than that he found men attractive more so than women. But he’d only just begun to think about everything else being gay entailed when his head had that unfortunate encounter with Chris Hobbs’ baseball bat and his entire world had changed. Up till then, the sum total of his experience with sex had been one lousy handjob given on the sly. He hadn’t even gotten a damn kiss out of it. So, other than vague longings that he’d never had a chance to indulge, he had nothing to gauge his current experiences against.
Well, except for what he’d been told at the training center after he’d been contracted out. He’d been told so many times that he wouldn’t like what his owner would do to him. He’d been warned that there would be pain and, based on what some of the other PCs he’d met had said, there could be a LOT of pain. Hell, the stories some of them told were simply horrible - the way they spoke about it, it was a miracle some had even lived through the experience. So, of course the boy was afraid. Nobody wanted THAT done to them. But they’d also told him that it didn’t matter. He had been sold by his father and was now a Personal Companion. He was expected to perform whatever services his Master required. One of which, undoubtedly, would be to serve as a sex partner for his Master or whomever his Master gave him to. That was his job. He wasn’t expected to enjoy it, or even to like it. For a PC, sex wasn’t meant to be fun. It was only fun for the Masters.
Hadn’t everything he’d been told at the training center been proven in just the short time the boy had been out in the world? The night of his auction, that Bellweather man had been bragging about just the type of thing he’d been told to expect. Promising that his first time would be horrible - demeaning and degrading at best, painful and abusive most likely - followed by him being handed around to the man’s guests as a toy for their further use. That was precisely what he’d expected all along. The fact that Bellweather hadn’t turned out to be his ultimate owner only meant he had a brief reprieve. Which wasn’t to say he wasn’t grateful to his Master for that small blessing. From what he’d overheard at the PC dinner the night before, it sounded like his replacement had not fared at all well with Bellweather. But that was just to be expected for a PC, right?
His opinion hadn’t been improved at all by the short time he’d spent in Bellweather’s clutches the night before. The way the man was talking, the threats he was making about all the things he was going to do to the boy, made his skin crawl. He’d even gone into graphic detail about what they’d done to that poor boy that Bellweather had taken home, and it was NOT something that the boy ever wanted to hear, let alone experience. Based on those stories, it wasn’t surprising at all that Bellweather’s boy had snapped. Anyone would have snapped if they’d been subjected to THAT. If his Master hadn’t come in when he did, the boy would have experienced those horrors first hand - Bellweather had explicitly promised him just that. But again, wasn’t that exactly what the boy expected to happen? The fact that he’d been pulled out of that tiny room and delivered from the clutches of the Handler and Bellweather’s friend, didn’t really mean much. It only delayed the inevitable.
Because it WAS inevitable. The boy was actually amazed that the new Master hadn’t already taken his virginity. He didn’t know what the delay was all about, but he knew that sooner or later, the Master WOULD force him to submit. He might not be quite as crass and tasteless as that Bellweather - bragging about his prowess and vaunting all his acts of cruelty for the world to hear - but that didn’t mean he was going to act any differently when the time came. Masters ALWAYS took what they wanted from their PCs. That was just what they did. The boy KNEW that, sooner or later, his new Master would have his way and it really didn’t matter how he went about it. The boy wouldn’t have any say in the matter.
And he didn’t believe the lies the man voiced about how he wouldn’t hurt him. That was bullshit if he’d ever heard it. Of course he would hurt him. Everyone he’d ever known had hurt him. Everyone he’d trusted had betrayed him. His own father had betrayed him - sold him into this pitiful life - why would some stranger he’d only known a week be any different? This Master - Brian - and all his honeyed words simply couldn’t be trusted. Everything the boy had been told since he’d been contracted out, everything he’d seen and heard about the world, proved that this man HAD to be lying. He was just a man like any other and all men cared about was where they could stick their dicks and how hard they could do it. This ‘Brian’ wouldn’t be any different in the end. The boy had no reason to believe he would escape his fate and all the pretty promises in the world wouldn’t change the loathsome reality of his life.
Which is why the boy should be rejoicing that the Master wasn’t interested in him, right?. If the Master would rather be with this stranger, more power to him. If he was busy fucking someone else, he’d leave the boy alone for a little while longer. Not that a short delay in the inevitable meant that much, but it was something.
So, then, why the hell did he feel like this?
Why did he WANT to be the one kneeling on the floor in front of the Master? Why did he so dislike that this man was in HIS place? Why should he have this roiling ball of disappointment in his stomach. Why was watching these two together making him feel so resentful. He didn’t want that. Or at least he didn’t think he wanted that. But then, why did he still feel so confused by what he was seeing?
The boy found himself staring, unable to look away, analysing every move. This scene was fascinating in a way that all the training center demonstrations and porn videos had never been. He found himself comparing what the big guy was doing to what he’d been taught. The guy’s technique was really sloppy. He didn’t have the right angle, his sucking seemed weak and he couldn’t deep throat worth a damn. The boy knew he could do better. A lot better. He was sure that the Master would like his blow jobs a lot more than this amateur production. Maybe, someday, he’d try it - give the Master a really expert blow job - and prove to him that his boy was better than some random fucker you picked up in a gym steam room.
Before the boy’s vague plans could solidify, the scene was over. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud gasping, “Ahhhhhh!” as the Master groaned loudly, threw his head back and thrust upwards with his hips. The big guy tried to swallow it all, but wasn’t fast enough. There was a lot of mess. Like the boy had thought before, terrible technique. If that had been him, he’d have had no trouble swallowing. Of course, he’d have deep throated the Master’s lovely dick to start with so there wouldn’t be any issue with swallowing. But, whatever. It wasn’t his mouth around that luscious, hard cock. He wasn’t the one that the Master had chosen. He’d been spared. Which is what he should want, right?
From where he was standing, the boy couldn’t hear much of the quiet conversation that followed. He did hear some quiet chuckling and then the big guy got up, smiled down at the Master, who promptly smacked him on his ass before ‘Matt’ moved away. The Master stood up and used the towel he’d been sitting on to clean himself of the leftover mess. Then the man sauntered over to where the boy had been standing, smirking at him all the time.
“I like that you like to watch, Justin,” the Master muttered lowly enough that nobody else could hear. “I saw you watching me the whole time and it was hot as fuck. Like I said before, you’re one brave little fucker - no doubt about it.” The Master reached down and snaked one arm around the boy’s waist then cinched his grasp tighter until their bodies were pressed close. The boy could feel the Master’s nakedness pressing against him through the thin cotton of the borrowed gym shorts he was wearing. “Just remember, when you’re ready for more, all you have to do is say the word. You’re in charge, but just so you know, I’d be happy to take care of THIS for you.” The Master let the boy go, only hesitating for a second so that he could brush their mutually hard dicks together once more, before moving all the way away.
The boy didn’t know what to think anymore. Why did the Master do that? Why did he say those things? And why did the boy’s body seem to want something his head knew was a really bad idea?
“Ready to go, Justin?” the Master asked aloud from where he was waiting in the steam room doorway.
Shaking off his uncertainty and confusion, the boy obediently trotted after the man that fate had decreed would be his Master. He still did NOT understand this strange incomprehensible man. He didn’t trust him - he couldn’t allow himself to trust anyone. But, still . . . well, the boy supposed things could be worse. And Brian wasn’t really that bad. Or at least he didn’t seem that bad at the moment.
Then again, this might just be more of that unexplained crazy-out-of-control thing he’d been feeling all day . . .