Christmas has always been a bad time of year for me. I can’t tell
you the number of times I’ve spent Christmas eve in a gay bar by myself,
alone, getting drunker the more sorry I felt for myself. Those times
left a pall over Christmas for me for many years. Until, quite by
accident, I met Beebers. That wasn’t his real name. That was
my pet name for the big man who became my Master. His real name was
Billy Bob Duncan. He wasn’t a good looking man but his attitude, bearing
and self assuredness drew me to him like a magnet.
I was working on a construction job in downtown Los Angeles building
the Sheraton-Grande Hotel. I was a journeyman carpenter and had been
with the company since we broke ground. I noticed twice a week
a big man would come and walk the job site with my boss asking questions
and watching the workers. He was one of the chief concrete inspectors who
checked and approved every major pour. He always wore knee high boots
of some kind and they were always hot looking on him. He was a
man who looked right in a big pair of boots. I found that for some reason
it excited me every time I saw him on the site. As time went by I caught
him watching me and my partner working. He would stand and watch us
for long periods of time until one day my partner commented about him.
“You know, Jake, I think he’s interested in you.” My partner Jerry
said.
“Well, I’ve noticed him watching us but how do you know he’s not looking
at you!” I answered.
Jerry called me Jake. My real name was Jason but he shortened
it to Jake. I didn’t mind. I liked either name. He was
a gay man with a steady lover. They had been together five or six years.
He suspected I was gay but I never came out to him. He was forever
inviting me to go to a bar with him and his partner. I tried gay bars for
many years and never found anyone I was interested in. I’d end up going
home by myself, frustrated, time and time again. I was alone and figured
I always would be. I just gave up.
We worked hard getting the foundations poured within the time schedule
of the job and the company owner threw us a party after work before the
Christmas holidays across the street in the Bonaventure. He pulled
out all the stops and provided food and an open bar. I wasn’t much of
a drinker but enjoyed the food and the comradery of my fellow workers. Jerry
punched me in the side and told me to look toward the door. There was
the inspector in his tall boots talking to the owner of the company and heading
for our area to join the party. He started to make me nervous as he
made no bones about looking at me and I was becoming convinced as Jerry it
was, indeed, me he was interested in. He sat with some of the iron workers
and kept looking over at our table. Jerry said he was going to invite
him over. I threatened Jerry with his life if he did.
Later, I went to the bar for another round of drinks and out of the
corner of my eye saw the inspector get up to head there as well.
‘Oh, shit! What’ll I do if he speaks to me?’ I thought, ‘Settle down,
Honcho, he’s not gonna’ bite you.’ I consoled myself.
“Hi, Jake!” He spoke to me.
“Well, howdy, Mr. inspector.” I held out my hand and we shook.
“You know my name but I don’t know yours.”
“Billy Bob Duncan, young man.”
“Good to meet you, Sir. I’ve seen you on the site but didn’t have
time to meet you.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you a few times, too, and it’s good to finally meet
you.”
My drinks came and I placed them on a small tray the bartender gave
me to transport to the table. I tuned to him and asked him to join
us later if he had the time. He thanked me and I left. He did
join us and I introduced him around to the other carpenters. He was
quiet but well met with a booming laugh. I liked him. I liked him a
lot and began to feel comfortable in his company. A couple of hours
went by and I didn't want to leave his side; however, Jerry rode to work
with me and had to get home so we said our goodbyes and left. In the
truck on the way home Jerry pulled a small business card out of his pocket
and handed it to me.
“Inspector Duncan gave me this to give to you. Read the back.”
I took the card from him and read the back. ‘I’ll be at the ‘One Way’
tonight at 9:00. You will be there waiting for me. I need you
and you need me. Your new Master, Billy Bob.
“Now, that’s hot!” Exclaimed Jerry. Woah! Christmas done come
early for my partner. Thank ya’ Jay-zus!”
“Oh shut up, Jerry! You wrote that to get me out to the bars.”
“Swear to God, Jake, I didn’t! That ain’t my hand writing. Besides,
I may laugh with you, but you know I ain’t meanspirited. I’d never do that
sort of thing. You don’t want to go to the bars, that’s your business.
You’re always welcome to go with Stan and I but we’ve never insisted.”
He was right, they never had.
Needless to say, I was at the “One Way” at eight-thirty. Thirty
minutes early. Jerry and Stan went with me and I was nervous as a cat on
hot tin roof. Nine o’clock sharp Billy Bob walked into the bar wearing more
leather than the inside of a new Cardova. He looked hot! He
bought a beer, spotted us and walked over to us. I shook his hand and introduced
him to Stan. Jerry shook his hand as well.
“We’ll have this beer and take off.” He said to me.
“Take off to where, Sir?” I asked innocently.
He reached into his big leather jacket and brought out a dog collar.
I was holding his beer and he swiftly put it around my neck and locked it
in place. His actions caused a lot of people to watch. I went along
with him because somehow it just seemed right, but I couldn’t help wonder
what he was doing. He reached into his other pocket and brought out
a leash and clipped it to the collar. The crowd applauded. I
was embarrassed. Jerry and Stan giggled.
“You will refer to me as Master! You will become my property and your
new name will be Jason Duncan, understand, slave?!”
“Yes, Sir, Master.” I found coming out of my mouth. I never considered
becoming a slave or playing within the leather crowd; however, it certainly
took care of my earlier question as to where we were going to go from here.
All he had to do was take my leash and lead me. My heart was ready
to be lead anywhere buy the big man. I would have followed him to Dante’s
seventh ring of hell and back. (We made the trip several times!)
He lead me everywhere that evening with his leash he put on me. We
went from Christmas party to Christmas party and at each he simply introduced
me as his new slave. There were no questions asked but I got looked
at by a lot of men with obvious envy in their eyes that I was on the end
of his leash and not them. It caused me to stand a little taller next
to my new Master. I became his slave that night, moved in with him the first
of the year and lived with my Master twenthy-three years until he passed
away. Once again I was alone. Older and alone. Not a pretty
picture. It was Christmas eve and I was home alone. It was
my first Christmas by myself since my Master died.
Christmas was always a big time of year for my Master. We would
work for weeks decorating, making goodies and having friends in for Christmas
eve. Billy Bob loved people. He had a big, generous heart and
an equally generous laugh. He made people comfortable. I just
couldn’t do it this year. I was invited to numerous parties and went
to a few but this was Christmas eve a time when Master B. and I would sit
in front of the fire place and get mellow with each other. He’d put
me in my best collar and leash and have me sit on the floor at his feet;
rub my head as I leaned against his big boots and leather pants. He
would sigh a big, deep sigh and I knew his heart was happy.
One year toward the last he made me promise I would keep Christmas in
my heart no matter what happened to him and have a small tree to remember
him by. I was to listen to Christmas music and sit in his favorite
chair by the fire place. I began to feel like his final orders to
me about the holiday was the only thought that might help me through this
Christmas eve. Jerry and Stan insisted I spent Christmas eve with them but
they moved to the desert and I didn’t feel like driving out there.
Besides, they needed to be with each other for Christmas eve.
I started getting dressed for Christmas eve like I’d done so many times
before. Cleaned myself, inserted my plug, put my collar and leash on and
decided to wear my old leather jacket I wore the night I first met my Master
at the ‘One Way.’ I put it on and reached in the pocket and pulled
out a business card with his name on it. I read again the words he
wrote over twenty years ago, but this time there was a P.S. on the bottom
of the card in fresh ink that read. ‘
’If you keep Christmas as I ordered, you will never be alone on Christmas
eve.’
Someone had done this to me as a joke. It was not a very thoughtful
joke. It struck me as cruel and meanspirited. I started crying and
just wanted to crawl into bed. In sleep I could find peace and dream
that my beloved Master was still laying warm by my side, but what the hell?
I all ready poured myself an egg nog and lit a roaring fire in the fire
place, may as well go in and enjoy the fire until it dies out. Besides,
my Master's favorite plug was beginning to feel pretty damn good.
Every Christmas eve, Master B. read Dickens "Christmas Carol" aloud
for us. Each year he got better and better until all our friends
insisted he read it to them, too. It was the highlight of our holiday.
I was so proud of him. He took good care of me and I tried to take
good care of him.
I was reading Dickens to myself in front of the fire and must have fallen
asleep when all of a sudden there came a knock at the door. I went to peek
out, but there was no one there. I threw on a robe and opened the
door wide but still I could find no one around. 'Kids,' I thought to
myself, as I closed and locked the door, and returned to the living room.
Sitting in my Master’s chair was an enormous older man with a small
gut, full white beard and mustache, with enough leather on to satisfy any
leather fetish. He wore big, tall boots that came up to his thighs,
a Master’s harness with cod piece, a heavy leather vest and a Masters cap.
Across his lap he had a leather whip.
“Ah, you’re back, slave! Get your robe off and present yourself to Master
Nick immediately.”
This was too bizarre! Where had this man come from and how the
hell did he get in here without me seeing him. I was about to protest when
he got a twinkle in his eye and put a finger to his lips to stifle my words.
I didn’t speak, I just did as the man ordered. As I approached him I noticed
he had a huge leather bag stuffed full of God knows what. I threw my rode
on the sofa and he looked me up and down with a very, nasty smile on his
face.
“Turn around, bend over and spread ‘em, slave!”
I immediately did as Master Nick ordered and held the position until
I was told otherwise.
“I see you’ve followed your Master’s orders and kept Christmas this
year but you didn’t believe the note he left you in your jacket pocket,
did you?”
“I thought someone was playing a mean trick on me, Master Nick, did
he send you to be with me.”
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Indeed, he did, slave, now stand up, get your ass over
here and make love to Master Nick’s boots. I haven’t got all night.
I have a number of other slaves who have been left alone this Christmas
eve that I have to service. Only the ones who have been very good, of course!”
I went to his feet and began cleaning his boots with a passion.
I hadn’t tasted a man’s boots since I cleaned my dead Master’s about a
week ago. I had them standing by the fire place thinking about putting
them on to feel my Master’s essence. My feet would float in
them but that only added to my excitement knowing I could never fill my
Master’s boots.
“Take my boots off, slave, and bring me your Master’s boots. I
helped him off with his huge boots and wondered if my Master’s boots would
fit him. I placed the first one in my crotch for him to put his big
foot into. I saw the merriment in his eyes and the smile on his face
that told me he was enjoying me as a slave.
“You took good care of your Master, slave, I can tell.”
He pressed his big foot into my Master’s boots and just before I thought
he was going to crush my balls, his foot magically slipped in. The
boots fit him like a pair of gloves. He stood up and stomped around
in them to get the feel and for my visual benefit. My dick was roaring
hard at this big man filling my Master’s boots.
“You did a good job on my boots, let’s see how good you can clean your
Master’s boots.”
I shed tears at the taste and flavor of the wonderful man’s boots I
had licked and cleaned thousands of times. I closed my eyes and could
feel Master B.’s feet and toes beneath the heavy leather. Master Nick
was chuckling at my ecstacy and hunger. I was devouring my Master’s boots,
not for my stomach but for my soul.
All of a sudden I felt his whip come down hard across my ass.
It didn’t even startle me. I was so use to Master Billy warming my
ass while cleaning his boots I just raised my ass higher for Master Nick.
“Ho! Ho! Ho, slave! You ARE well trained. Soon as I get
your butt all warmed up I’m gonna’ leave you a present, way up inside your
hot little ass.”
He continued to beat my ass for a while and got harder and harder with
his strokes. He was really warming my ass up and making it hot. I
could feel my asshole was beginning to drip from self-lubrication.
“There, hit the position in front of the fire on that bear skin rug.”
I did as ordered and grabbed my legs in my arms. He undid his
cod piece and out flopped one of the biggest cocks I’d ever seen on a man.
He smiled at my surprise.
“We want to make sure my present is placed way up inside you, don’t
we slave?”
“Yes, Sir, Master Nick!”
He popped out my plug and checked with his gloved fingers to see if
I had adequate lubrication for him. He was satisfied and positioned
himself at my back door. He leaned over me and took me swift and hard
to the base of his big, fat dick. I felt his sizable balls slap against
my butt.
“Oh, thank you, Master Nick, you really are a true Master to take my
ass like that. Thank you, Sir!”
“Easy, slave, relax! It’s gonna’, get better when Master Nick
gets you loosened up, when he gets some of your boy-butt juices flowing,
and he starts rootin’ around up in that tight little slave’s ass.”
Master Nick waited until my ass calmed down and then took a couple of
small, long, deep strokes into my butt. Woah, he was as big as a
fucking horse or at the very least a large reindeer. Then he started to
fuck me seriously. He fucked me every way he knew how and some I’d never
dreamed of before. He was one hell of a fuck. He built me up two or
three times and ordered me not to come because he wasn’t ready to give me
my present yet. I held off and held off until it felt like he was
getting ready to put his gift under my tree. He yelled at me an order for
me to come. I let go of three huge volleys of come. He
managed to grab one of his huge, thigh high boots and had me shoot on them.
I covered both toes of those big boots with my come.
After I’d cleaned him good, helped him back on with his big boots, returned
my Master’s boots to the hearth, and licked my come off his big boots, he
settled back in my Master’s big chair with his pipe. He picked up
my book, “A Christmas Carol” and began reading at the exact spot I left off.
With my ass tightly re-plugged so I wouldn't lose a drop of his precious
present, I gathered myself at his feet with my arms wrapped around
his big boots. Once again, I listened to Dickens’ story as his booming
baritone voice played all the parts. The next thing I knew, I woke
up and was beginning to feel chilled. The fire was almost out and my
head was laying on my Master’s boots propped up against his big chair.
I started crying because I realized I was once again alone. Had it
all been just a dream?
I stoked the fire and was determined not to feel sorry for myself and
get another nog from the kitchen. My ass really felt like it had
been righteously fucked but I dismissed it. Going through the hall
I passes a full length mirror and looked at my ass. It had been severely
whipped recently and was still glowing more red than Rudolph’s nose.
I poured myself another grog-nog and returned to the living room. All
the music had stopped and I heard a big, booming baritone voice, from far
way,
“On ye slaves who pull my sleigh, pull ye fast, be swift of flight,
there’s more lonely slave’s hearts to mend this night!” I didn’t
imagine it! I really heard it!
I smiled to myself as I cuddled up next to my Master’s boots.
The grog warmed my insides, the fire warmed me outside and Master Nick’s
whip warmed my ass to last the night. My ass and my heart were in
perfect accord, it was a good Christmas eve after all; a wonderful Christmas
eve. I knew there would be many more because I was a good slave. My Master
told me so.
Merry Christmas to all good slaves, and to all,---a good night!
=======================================================================================
A peaceful and loving holiday to everyone. No matter your preferences,
we're all God's children. Don't ever let any right wing, bible thumping
bastard tell you different! There's more to God than is dreamed of in
their philosophies.
Waddie Greywolf ~ Christmas ~ 2003
All rights reserved
Copyright 2003/2004 Waddie Greywolf