Standard disclaimer: You should not be reading this if you are underage or it is illegal for you to do so in your community. You should not read this story if you are offended by stories with gay and sexual themes. If this kind of stuff gets you all morally indignant and hot and bothered, beat it and spare yourself (and me) the headache. Otherwise, carry on.
"You gotta be kidding me, right?"
Sean looked at his friend with a wry smile, having anticipated this response. "Nope. Put 'em on, Ed."
Ed was a longtime friend of Sean's. He was 26, but with a baby face that made him look closer to 16. He was one of the most easygoing and helpful people Sean had ever had the pleasure to know, much less have the privilege to count among his friends. It had gotten to the point that Sean could nearly always get the easygoing "Edster" to go along with anything Sean suggested. Nearly.
It looked like this time was going to take a little extra persuasion.
Ed stood there, shaking his head slowly, looking not at Sean but at what Sean had given him to wear. Ed held in his hands two flawlessly crafted, handmade rubber boots. Both were meticulously fashioned to fit Ed perfectly. Both were entirely made of a very soft and supple rubber, inside and out, with a thick layering on the sole--and insole--to provide a particularly fine feeling of comfort for the wearer. Both boots were 17" tall. They would rise to just below Ed's knee, and would hug his leg at both the trimmed ankle and the calf, adding to the sensation that the boot did not "fit" so much as massage the feet and legs of the wearer with every step.
And one other thing. The boots were a deep, bright, brilliant shade of purple.
"I'm supposed to wear big purple boots, huh?", Ed continued to shake his head, incredulous. But his face was breaking into that beautiful broad smile that had melted many a lady's heart. If he did that goofy tongue thing of his, Sean would know he had him. "You're sure about this?"
Sean leaned forward and rested his arms on the camera. "Positive."
Sean was just two years Ed's senior, but had an expression to his eyes and a sophisticated manner that indicated a maturity beyond his years. Sean worked in footwear, but liked to refer to himself as "an old-world cobbler". He actually knew how to craft shoes and boots by hand and design each pair to the specifications of each wearer for support and comfort. His work was expensive, but well worth the cost. He also dealt in brand name products which he sold at discount prices, but his heart was the heart of a shoemaker, he often remarked. In fact, many of his best materials and patterns came from a friend overseas with similar interests. Sean's profession was one of the heart, as he not only loved the work, but found his trade was a wonderful way to supply his fetish for rubber knee boots.
Sean was gay, Ed was straight. Both knew it, both were cool with it. And Sean would sometimes call upon Ed, who was a regular in the local Civic Theater productions and something of a ham, to model Sean's latest creations for advertising flyers and promotional posters to hang around the shop. Of course, there was no way Sean believed that he was going to start cranking out bright purple knee boots, but he had wanted to craft something like them for a while now, and he wanted to see his babyfaced friend wearing them.
"Go ahead, yank 'em on.", Sean chided. "You're gonna look great." Sean crouched slightly behind the camera, looking at Ed through the lens, adjusting the focus and checking the light meter. He could see his pal continue to shake his head, his smile never wavering. Ed tilted the purple boots a little so that they caught the photo lights and their shafts shined brightly for a moment. The gleam of the slick purple rubber somehow appealed to Ed, and he snorted a quick, truncated laugh, sticking out his tongue partway, between his teeth.
Sean smiled behind the camera. Houston, we have liftoff. Inside the frame of the viewfinder, Sean saw Ed kick off his sandals. "That's the spirit", he remarked in encouragement.
"Yeah, you know if you whipped up a pair a' clown shoes, I'd probably end up wearing those, too.", Ed conceded.
"Well, you know that whenever you do that tongue-thing of yours, I know you're a goner."
Ed stopped halfway in the process of pulling on the first boot. "What 'tongue thing'?"
Sean kept right on fussing with his camera, speaking more to it than to his friend. "Whenever something really amuses you", he explained, "you start to laugh and stick out you're tongue, but you close your teeth at the same time. Looks like you're either going to bite your tongue off, or you're fighting to stick your tongue out past a clenched jaw. It's a dead giveaway, man. Been doin' it for years."
Ed was tickled by that, and he laughed while unconsciously sticking his tongue out past his teeth again as he finished pulling on the boots.
Sean looked up from his camera. "Ready whenever you--" , he began, but his sentence stopped midway.
Before him stood his friend Ed, looking down as his brand new, shining purple rubber boots. Ed's arms were held out at his sides, his body bent a bit at the waist, his eyes glued to the smooth and brilliant rubber. He just stood there for a moment, not moving, not taking his eyes off the boots on his feet.
"Ed ol' buddy, you okay?", Sean asked.
Ed didn't straighten up, but he did speak. "W-whoooa. These f-feel greeeeaat." Ed was not known to stutter. Sean raised one eyebrow in concern.
"Ed, you sure you're ok--"
Now Ed was moving. He was pacing around the shop, stopping here and there at random to rock back and forth on his heels. Then he'd walk some more, and stop to do an about-face, spinning on the balls of his feet. As he marched right up to the camera, he suddenly dropped down onto his haunches and hovered there, supporting himself on his toes. He then dropped his heels to the floor, and swayed back and forth by his ankles. Slowly, never losing the sway of his body, Ed rose back to his full height.
He spoke, to no one or to himself. "Ohhh, these feel inCREDible. I-I don't think I've ever worn a pair of shoes--or boots--that felt this good on me. I've never worn ANYthing that felt this good on me!"
Ed then swiveled back the other way on one foot, and with every couple steps thrust out one leg with his heel on the floor, his booted toes pointing up. He then did a couple quick line dance steps and spun around rapidly as if he were in a musical number.
Now it was Sean's turn to shake his head. "Guess you like 'em", he muttered under his breath. Then, looking back at Ed, "Geez. Theater types."
Ed was now standing stock still again, and was looking down at the boots as he wiggled his toes. With each wiggle, you could see the soft rubber surface of the purple boots rise a bit. Ed giggled with every movement. He actually giggled.
Sean couldn't have been happier. He had anticipated some resistance to the purple boots, but never dreamed they would go over as such a hit once Ed had them on. Now Ed was actually starting to skip around the room in them. Skipping. Honest to God.
Sean waved his arm in a dismissive gesture. "Okay, enough already", he announced. "C'mon, let's get this over with. I have an appointment this afternoon and I don't want to keep you too late, anyway."
Ed was suddenly all business. He stopped his playful prancing around and strode over to the camera in an almost military fashion. His shoulders were back, his spine straight, his eyes focused. "Yessir", he said flatly. He stood before Sean's camera almost at attention, and spoke in a serious tone, asking, "What do you want me to do first?"
Sean was a bit taken aback at Ed's rapid behavioral turnaround, but then dismissed it as his actor's peculiarities. "That's more like it.", Sean observed. "Let's get down to business."
"I await your commands, sir.", Ed replied in a clipped, yet convincing tone.
Sean paused a moment. Was Ed just being silly, or was there something else in the way he'd said that? Ed stood, still at attention, eyes forward and sharply focused, his body straight, his feet together. His expression was controlled, unreadable. And his manner seemed...well, sincere.
"Ah, what the hell", thought Sean. "He did play the part of a Marine captain in the winter show. Maybe he's still into that."
The photo shoot could not have gone better. Ed followed Sean's directions to the letter, and knew exactly when to ad lib and add his own flair to provide the best picture. Ed could flash his dazzling smile on command, bringing his entire face to life and almost twinkling his incredible blue eyes. Then, after each pose, he would return to his all-business attitude. Never stern or impatient, but clearly at the ready to receive his next set of instructions with alertness and controlled anticipation. One minute, Ed was walking, sitting, even dancing, smiling brightly and looking thrilled to be there. After the click of the shutter and the word from Sean, he snapped back to his near-military persona. It was almost eerie.
They were done in half the time Sean had allowed for, even after taking more than twice the photos he had expected, due to Ed's remarkable cooperation and contributions.
"Ed, that was perfect, just perfect!", Sean crowed. "That was exactly what I was looking for, man. I really appreciate it. Good job."
Ed was back to standing at attention, but this time his mouth curved into a slight smile at Sean's praise. "I'm glad you're pleased.", he answered, unable to keep an obvious pride from his voice.
"Really pleased.", Sean said back. He looked to his friend, still standing there at attention in his beautiful purple boots, as if he were awaiting further instructions.
"Ed, it's cool. We're done here. Go do your softball game or whatever it was you had planned this afternoon."
Ed didn't budge. "If you're sure that you have what you need from me, sir."
Okay, enough was enough. Sean felt that this was getting creepy. "Alright already", he said. "You are officially discharged, soldier. Kick off your boots, you're free to go."
Ed looked down longingly at his feet. Then, softly, he asked, "D-do I have to--?"
Sean was a bit touched by the sincerity in Ed's voice. He wasn't that good of an actor. He really, really loved those boots. "Well, no", Sean said. "You don't HAVE to. Like with all the stuff you model for me, I made those to your specs. They're yours if you want them."
Ed looked back down at his new boots, his face aglow with delight. "Oh, thank-you! I do. I do want them. They're great. These are the most--they're just--", he stammered. Then looking back up at Sean, "Thank-you. Thank-you very much." His military manner was gone, and his smile shone as bright as a kid's on Christmas morning.
Sean smiled almost as broadly as he wound up the film from the last roll and dropped it into its small black canister for processing. "I've never seen you so cooperative", he observed. Then, jokingly, "Good thing I didn't ask you to suck my cock."
Sean turned around to find Ed was standing right beside him. He had crossed the room in a heartbeat. His eyes locked with Sean's.
"Do you want me to?"
Sean's mouth hung open partway. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The two of them occasionally shared gay-straight banter in fun, but this was nothing like that. Ed's military manner had returned. He stood tall, with a sharp focus in his eyes that was almost disconcerting.
"Wh-what did you say?", asked Sean, knowing full well what his friend had said, but choosing not to believe it. "Do I want you to what?"
"Do you want me to suck your cock?", Ed said matter-of-factly.
Any other time, Sean would have laughed and shot back a witty retort, but his was different. Ed was serious. Very serious. And as he gave his response, there was something in his eyes. An eagerness. An eagerness to please.
"Ed, quit clowning around, man, you're freaking me out."
Ed took one step back. "I'm sorry. But please, sir, if you want me to, I'd be happy to accommodate you."
Sir? Was he still punctuating each sentence with 'sir'?? "Ed," Sean began slowly, putting the film down on a nearby cart, "what the hell are you saying? You're straight."
"But you're not", Ed responded, taking a step back toward his friend. Ed's expression remained earnest. He rested one hand on Sean's shoulder. "Have you ever thought of having me suck you off? Is it something you've wanted? Something I can give you?"
Sean put his palm flat against Ed's chest to hold him off. "Jesus, Ed, cut it out! I never said I fantasized about you and me! I know you're not like that--"
Ed's free hand grasped Sean's wrist, holding his palm snugly to his chest. Sean tried to pull away, but Ed was too strong. "It doesn't have to be a fantasy", Ed assured him. His tone was soothing, his voice so intent and caring. "You made me these wonderful boots. If there's anything I can do to repay you--well, no, I could never do that--but to thank you, to express my gratitude. Sir, please, I would be so glad to serve--"
Sean was on the verge of a spaz attack. "Ed! I just took like four rolls of you in the boots for ads an' stuff! We're good! We're cool! Call it square! Just ease off here, you're scaring the hell outta me!!"
Ed did ease back half a step, removing his hand from Sean's shoulder, but then taking Sean's hand in it. Gently, he said, "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I--I thought you thought I was good-looking."
"Ed, I do! Honestly!" Sean couldn't believe this. It was like he was back with every junior high and high school date he'd ever had, trying to console the girls about their self-image after they figured out he didn't want to get into their pants.
Sean looked at Ed. Really looked at him. One thing Ed was not was a little girl. He was most definitely a man. At 5'11", he was about an inch and a half taller than Sean. Ed's love of just about any sport kept him outside a lot and kept him very fit. His skin was perfectly tanned, and his brown hair had been bleached to a soft gold by the sun. His youthful faced was framed by two ears that were slightly oversized, adding to the illusion that he was younger than he truly was. Good God, yes, Sean thought he was good-looking. He thought he was gorgeous.
"I do think you're good-looking, bud.", Sean said in a softer tone. Was his best friend having some kind of breakdown or something? "And you are. You're, well--dude, you're hot."
Ed took Sean's other hand and placed that palm against his chest as well, holding both hands there tightly. "And you've never thought of the two of us--together?", Ed asked meekly.
Sean rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous. "Well, of course! As, like a daydream. But for Christ's sake, I at least imagined that it started with a little kiss! I nev--"
Sean was cut off as Ed kissed him. Deeply. Sean's body stiffened, his protests muffled to a meager "Mmff!". Ed cradled his friend's head in his hands, kissing him passionately. Soon, Sean's eyes closed involuntarily and he gave in to the feeling. Boy, had he dreamed of this. But of course, that's all it was. A dream. Except that now, it wasn't.
Sean knew something was horribly, horribly wrong with his best friend, but at the moment he was deep in the territory of "I shall think about it tomorrow". He wrapped his arms around Ed, as Ed ran his fingers through Sean's hair. Sean felt Ed's hands trace loving lines down his spine, and then grasp his rear. The sensations sent Sean deeper into the ecstasy of the kiss.
After several minutes, the duo separated. Ed brushed aside a bit of Sean's hair with his fingers. "How was that? Was that okay?", he asked.
Sean could only manage an "Mm-hmm."
Ed rested his forehead against Sean's, and locked eyes with him. "May I suck your cock now, please?", he requested with the greatest innocence.
Sean's head swayed a bit and it was hard for him to focus. "Sure, why not. Knock yourself out."
Ed was instantly down on one knee, unzipping Sean's jeans. "Thank-you, sir", he was saying.
Sean was in ecstasy. His head lolled around on his shoulders like it was about to fall off. His mouth hung open and his eyelids fluttered. Sean swiveled just a bit in his chair and leaned back against the counter, his arms spread out at his sides, gripping the edge of the glass countertop.
Ed continued to work his mouth over Sean's erect penis. His lips drew tighter then slackened a bit as he slowly, agonizingly, raised and lowered his head up and down on Sean's shaft, taking in deeply and then partly releasing his mouthful. Ed's moist lips hugged the penis tightly as he slowly pulled upward again, his tongue riding its underside, then wrapping around the shaft as he reached the top. Once there, Ed drew in deeply, strongly, as if he were trying slurp up the last bits of a thick milkshake through a straw. When he was satisfied that he'd drawn out all the remaining cum from his friend's dick, he withdrew completely, then kissed the head of the penis when he was done.
Ed ran his fingertips along one side of the shaft, causing one final upward tensing before it began to sag with the fading erection. Ed lowered himself down to sit on the floor beside Sean's chair, and gently stroked Sean's chest up and down beneath his open shirtfront. Looking up at his enraptured friend, he asked, "Was that good?"
Sean let out a kind of gurgle. "Ohhhhh, man, yeeaahhh. And then some."
Ed smiled broadly, getting back up to his knees. "You want me to go again?"
Sean gripped Ed's shoulders, keeping him back. "No. No thanks, buddy. Seven times is more than enough."
Ed sat back down, a bit disappointed. "Well, okay. If you're sure."
Sean glanced at Ed as he zipped up. Ed sat on the hardwood floor with his back against the sales counter, a look of extreme bliss on his face. His wide grin could only be described as dopey. "Ed", Sean asked, "You aren't suddenly coming out, are you?"
Ed looked puzzled. "Huh? No, why?"
"So you're still straight? I mean, as long as I've known you, you've been into girls."
"Hell, yeah!", he said with conviction. "Got a hot date coming up Saturday with Rebecca, too." His dopey grin returned.
"But, Ed", Sean went on, "what with all we've been doing for the last, I don't know how long--" he waved a finger over his pants zipper to indicate their sexual activity, "--and you kissed me. Fuck shit, did you kiss me. Why did you--?"
Ed looked up at him again with a look of astonishment at the question. "Well, because you asked me to."
Sean just stared at him.
Ed flopped back against the counter, and pulled one knee up so that he could caress one of his purple boots. He smiled again, and giggled softly as his fingers ran across the rubber. What the hell was it about those boots??
Sean sat up. "Ed, you should go now."
Ed's eyes widened. "But I get to keep the boots, right?"
"Yes, yes", Sean said, still flustered at his once strong-willed pal's complete submission and sudden dependence on his new footwear.
Ed jumped lithely to his feet, and began to saunter out the door. Sean grabbed up his friend's sandals and hollered after him. "Don't forget these!"
Ed stopped in the doorway. "Keep 'em. I am never taking these off if I can help it." He kicked up one foot and made an overly dramatic exit from the shop.
Sean stood, shaking his head and wondering what the hell he had just done to his best friend. Then, as a sudden afterthought, he said loudly, "Oh, Ed--?"
There was a moment's silence, then Sean could hear the rapid padding of rubber soles running across the sidewalk outside. Ed skidded to a stop in the doorway, breathing a little hard. He had run back immediately at the sound of his master's voice. "Yeah? Did you need me again?"
"Could you come back tomorrow morning, buddy? Like an hour before I open? That okay with you?"
"Of course!", Ed said enthusiastically. "I'll be here. Tomorrow, an hour before you open. Is that all you need?"
"That's all."
"'Cause, if you've changed your mind about having me suck you off again--" He started to walk back into the shop.
"No!", Sean blurted out. "No, we're good. It's fine. Just come back tomorrow morning." A pause. Then, "And please don't mention our...activities here today to anyone, alright? See you tomorrow."
"Yes, sir!", Ed said, tossing off a quick salute, and galloping down the street.
Ed was right on time the following morning. At precisely one hour before opening, he stood outside the shop's front entrance, rapping his knuckles on the glass. "Sean! I'm here!"
Sean let his friend in, and Ed almost bounded through the door. He hopped around the room like a kid who'd finally arrived at Grandma's house. And of course, he did his hopping from within his tall purple rubber boots.
"Couldn't wait to get back into those, I see", Sean observed.
Ed looked back with dancing eyes. "Oh, I never took 'em off!"
"What, you slept in 'em?"
"Well, yeah!"
Sean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had spent the previous evening preparing a series of tests for both Ed and his purple boots. Clearly, there was something about these new boots that were controlling his friend's mind. Now was the time to find out to just what extent the control went. Sean had compiled a list made up of classic hypnosis/mind control conventions, as well as certain things he knew about his best friend. If the commands could be followed in direct contrast to Ed's own nature...well, that was something Sean had to see to believe.
"Ed ol' buddy, do me a favor and stand over here", Sean indicated the middle of the shop floor as he pulled down the shade on the door to block the view of passersby. Ed gladly marched over to the center of the room and stood there, awaiting further orders.
"Okay, Ed", Sean started, glancing over his list. "Strip, please."
Ed looked at his friend with wide eyes and gulped. "Strip? You mean, take my clothes off?"
"That's the standard definition of 'strip' as I understand it, yes", Sean retorted. "Take your clothes off. ALL your clothes off. Underwear too." Sean knew that despite Ed's mild exhibitionist tendencies when on the civic theater stage, he was also modest in any number of ways. Public nudity was one of them. Ed always wore a warm-up suit over his gym clothes when he went to work out, so he could simply peel off an upper layer before hitting the weights without unduly exposing himself. Then he could easily throw them back on over his sweaty shorts and T-shirt before driving back home to shower. Even in local theater, Ed had gotten a reputation as a quick-change artist between scenes since he was so uncomfortable changing costumes in some of the shared dressing rooms. If he could toss aside his clothes here and now without any reason for it, that would mean something indeed.
Ed looked slowly down at himself, and Sean wondered if he was envisioning himself nude in front of his best friend. Sean was just about to jot down a note on his pad about the negative result of this test when Ed said, "You mean, the boots, too?"
Sean stopped, his pen hovering over the paper. He thought for a second. "No, I guess you can leave the boots on. But nothing else." He'd have to keep the boots on anyway, since it was their effect that was being tested.
"Oh, that's okay then!", came Ed's cheerful rejoinder, and he quickly shucked off his shirt and after some fitful tugging, managed to pull his pants off over his boots. Another quick fling and there went his briefs, capping off the pile in the corner. Ed stood there tall and proud, buck naked but for his boots, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, grinning broadly.
"Holy shit", thought Sean. Once he knew he could keep the boots on, everything else went in a heartbeat. No questions about why his friend suddenly wanted him exposed, or what possible purpose it could serve. Just a concern about keeping his precious boots. Sean tried to maintain his focus as he made a mark in the positive column next to the first test. He looked back up at Ed's smiling face, and found that keeping focus was not gong to be easy. Ed's trim, tanned, and toned body spoke volumes of many hours spent outside playing softball, basketball, street hockey, kayaking, rock climbing, rollerblading, and who knows what else the Edster loved to do.
"Um, uhh", Sean stammered. Ed continued to rock back and forth, his smile only getting wider. He casually clapped the palm of one hand over the fist of the other. Ed looked like he was about to burst out laughing at any second. "What?", Sean demanded. "What's so damn funny?"
Ed just kept right on smiling. "Nothing. You just asked me to do something, and I got to do it." He flashed that dazzling smile. "Isn't that awesome??" Then the tongue thing again.
Sean quickly drew scribble marks through the next three tests. He looked at that incredible, lithe naked body of his pal's and wondered how much control he...and the boots...had over it. "Ed? Umm--" he started. "Could, um, could you get an erection now, please?"
Ed beamed. "Oh, absolutely!" And pwang! Ed's penis shot up and stood at attention instantly.
"FUCK!!", Sean shouted in surprise.
Ed began to approach him, still hard as a rock. "Oh. You wanna?"
"Christ, no!!" Sean jumped back three feet. "Just get back to the center of the room!"
Ed backed up slowly (still erect), his expression looking crestfallen. "Oh, okay. Sorry." Then, lowering his head like a scolded child, he said softly, "Just say when you're ready. Y'know, if you do want to."
Sean dashed into the backroom and grabbed a black rubber jockstrap. He tossed it over to Ed, telling him, "Put that on, buddy. Quick."
Ed snatched the strap out of the air and said, "Sure. Not a problem."
Sean looked at his test sheet and started tearing out pages, muttering to himself. "Who cares about this one, that one doesn't really matter anymore, shit if that one isn't irrelevant now..." he then looked back up at Ed, who was struggling with his rubber jockstrap. He was trying to get the firm little rubber pouch over the top of his large, fully-erect dick, but having no luck. Sean bit his lower lip, then said something he knew would work, even as he dreaded verifying it. "Ed", he said, "go limp."
Ed's penis immediately fell limp, allowing him to easily snap the jockstrap over the top of it. "Thanks, sir, that did the trick."
Sean began to pace. So, as long as Ed had on those boots, Sean had control over Ed's inhibitions as well as his physical body. What about his mindset in general? Sean had helped Ed practice for enough shows to know where he fell short as an actor. One of the emotions Ed could not convey convincingly was anger--most likely because he was such a nice guy by nature. Another was forgetfulness. Sean recalled the time Ed was cast as the single most unconvincing amnesiac ever to trod the boards. Ed's recollection was so sharp, he couldn't even feign memory loss. So Sean decided to try out a classic.
"Ed, listen carefully." Ed craned his neck forward, head tilted slightly to listen intently. "You've forgotten your name. It's gone. Poof. You don't have a name anymore. Even if you do, you've forgotten it. You absolutely cannot think of a name for yourself if your life depended on it. Got that?"
"Got it, sir."
"You cannot remember your name."
"I cannot remember my name.", he repeated dutifully.
Then, to cover all his bases, Sean added, "What's more, you will now also forget that I gave you that last order. Understand?"
"It's forgotten, sir."
Sean let out another deep breath. "What I'd really like you to do next is walk over to the far end of the room, then walk over to me and cheerfully introduce yourself. Can you do that for me?"
"You got it, sir", Ed replied, then set out across the room to do just that. He marched back again, head held high and showing no sign of embarrassment over being attired solely in a rubber jock and tall purple boots, extended his hand to Sean and said, "Good morning, sir! Pleased to meet you! I'm--"
And he froze. His eyes went wide, his mouth wen slack, and a look or horror came across his face. Ed was a pretty okay actor. But he was nowhere near this good. His name was gone. And he only just realized it. He began to stammer. "I'm--I'm--oh, my God. I'm--" He looked at Sean, terribly worried.
"You're what?", Sean prompted.
"No, I'm not saying that I'm--", Ed attempted to explain. "My name, it's just that--I can't believe this, I've forgotten my name. I can't remember my name! I'm trying, but--Jesus Christ, it's gone!" Ed turned away from Sean, his fingers rubbing his temples. The fact that he would turn away after Sean had told him to address him was proof enough of his sincerity, but Ed never, ever, took the Lord's name in vain. Huge, monster no-no for him. That he had unconsciously done so here indicated he'd had a powerful shock.
Ed stopped wandering away from Sean and froze where he stood. His voice was almost a whisper. "What if I never had a name? Did I? Oh God, what if I never did? That must be why I can't even remember it--I don't even HAVE a name!" He was starting to breathe harder, so Sean stepped in.
"Would you like me to give you one?"
Ed was back at his side in an instant. "Oh, would you? Can you do that?" He began shaking Sean's hand enthusiastically. "Thank-you, sir! Thank-you."
Sean looked at the ceiling and said a silent prayer that this wasn't going to put him in the devil's deep fryer filled with Wesson oil. Then, to Ed, he told him with authority, "Your name is slave. No last name, no middle name. Just slave. Small "s". That's who you are."
A great relief seemed to wash over Ed. "Of course! I'm slave! God, thank-you, sir!" He then dashed across the room at top speed, turned to face Sean, and marched back toward him again with gusto. Sean wondered what the hell he was doing. Ed then extended his hand upon reaching Sean, and announced in a loud voice, "Good morning, sir! A pleasure to meet you, sir! I'm slave!" Astounded, Sean took slave's hand and shook it. He was following his last order which he couldn't complete before. That's what he was doing. When Sean let go of slave's hand, two more pages of test went into the trash can untried.
Only a quarter of an hour later, slave (formerly Ed the straight guy) was wearing a black rubber slave collar that Sean would deny was his should any of his friends happen across it in the backroom. Sean had reached his final test. He held an eight-inch rubber dildo out for the purple-booted slave to see. Slave-Ed had been slightly bent over, coating his posterior with Vaseline. Sean shuddered that he was even contemplating what he was about to do next. But he went ahead, anyway. "Ed", he began, then noticed that Ed just kept right on applying more layers of Vaseline to his bum. Then, realizing his mistake, Sean said, "Slave."
Ed stood up at attention. "Sir!"
Sean held out the dildo. "You know what this is for, slave?"
Ed nodded vigorously. "Yessir, it's for shoving up your ass." His tone was that of a little kid giving a correct response to a question in Science class.
Sean told him, "Bend over, slave. I'm going to use it on you."
Ed did as bidden without hesitation. He bent right over and grabbed the ankles of his boots. Sean slowly walked behind him and held the dildo up to his hole. Sean's hands were shaking. Ed was ready and willing to receive the dildo. He was not only willing, he was happy to. Sean got within about an inch of Ed's behind and stopped. He stood there for close to a minute, with the sex toy hovering there.
"I'm ready whenever you are, sir", the adorable slave said.
Sean let his arm drop. "No, that's it. Testing over. You pass--or maybe fail--with flying colors. Good Christ." Sean started to pace, not knowing quite what to do next.
"Sir?", Slave-Ed asked, "is everything okay?"
"No, its not", Sean answered. "I can't do this! You're straight."
"Do you want me to be gay?"
Sean felt the blood drain down to his feet. "No. Most assuredly, and definitely no." Sean walked with purpose past his friend, absently throwing aside the dildo, which Ed caught. "Be right back." Sean went to the store's washroom and grabbed a towel to clean off all the Vaseline Ed had coated himself with. When he came back in, Ed was bent over, trying out the dildo on himself, and moaning softly.
"What the hell are you doing?!", Sean shouted.
Ed stood up suddenly, the dildo still protruding from his behind. "I-I'm sorry, sir! I thought you wanted me to use it! You--you threw it to me, so I just--I--was I doing it wrong, sir?"
"It was just peachy", sneered Sean, as he went around Ed's backside and reached for the dildo to yank it out, then stopped inches from it. He leaned over Ed's shoulder, saying, "You do it."
"Yes, sir!", Ed responded, and began to pump the dildo in and out again, faster this time.
"No, no!", Sean screamed. "Take it out, take it out!"
"Oh", Ed replied. Slowly, he withdrew the dildo from his behind, his free hand slowly pumping his dick in the process beneath the rubber jock.
"Jesus, slave, stop that!", Sean chided. But it was too late, since Ed ejaculated into his hand at the moment his master shouted. With a heavy and contented sigh, Ed released his grip on himself.
"Sorry, sir. I was already starting to--sorry." He stood up straight again, and began to lick the semen from his hand, swallowing each slurp with relish.
"Okay, knock it off, you", Sean said as he wiped the jism off Ed's hand with the towel. Then he slapped the towel firmly into his friend's hand. "Clean off your rear end." Ed proceeded to do so. Sean looked at Ed and said with authority. "Listen very carefully to me. You are not gay, you are straight. Your name is Ed and you are my best friend. You do not like sucking cock, nor do you get pleasure from cramming dildos up your ass. You with me so far?"
Ed said, "Yes, sir", still toweling off.
"When you're all cleaned up, you will lose the collar and the jockstrap and put your clothes back on. You will forget completely all that we have done here this morning and all that we did yesterday after I was done photographing you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Ed had finished toweling off the lubricant jelly and held the moist towel, a little confused about what to do with it.
"I'll take that", said Sean, and he did. "After you're dressed, you will leave here and go about your day as normal. You came here this morning because I told you yesterday that I was sure I would have the photos of you developed by now, but I was mistaken, they weren't ready. But we got to talking for about an hour and that's all we've been doing here. Talking. Got it?"
"Just talking, sir", Ed said. "Nothing more."
"What's your name, then?"
"Ed."
"Gay or straight?"
"Straight. I don't enjoy sucking--"
"Fine! That'll do. Whenever anyone asks you that question, you just say "straight", alright?"
"Alright, sir."
In another moment, Ed was dressed and ready to go. Sean saw him to the door. "Oh, and there is one more thing, Ed ol' buddy."
Ed looked back with interest. "Sir?"
"Take off the boots right now."
"Sir!! NO! Please, you can't!!", Ed looked like he was on the verge of crying.
"Ed, if you leave those boots on, it will make me very, very unhappy. And then you will have to live with the consequences and guilt of having made me feel sad. And you don't want that at all, do you? You'll take off the boots--" Ed started to whimper. "--just FOR NOW. And you'll put on your sandals. As soon as you have on your sandals, all you will remember of the boots was that you wore them for one of my photo shoots. You will have no emotional response or attachment to them whatsoever. If you think anything about them, it will simply be of how ridiculous they looked when you first saw them. Are we clear?"
Ed sniffled and a tear rolled down from his moistening eyes. "S-sir, yes, sir. A-all clear." He hesitantly pulled off his precious purple rubber boots and slipped easily into the sandals Sean had handed back to him. Sean quickly held the boots behind his back and watched as Ed swayed for a moment, dazed, there in the doorway. Then Ed seemed to perk up suddenly, as if he had heard his name called from a distance.
"Ed? You there?"
Ed looked back to his pal, saying, "Yeah. Zoned out for a second there. Hey, I did come over here before getting my first cup of coffee, after all."
Sean felt a great weight lift from him. "I'm really sorry, buddy...", he began, "...about the wasted trip over here, I mean."
Ed waved it off. "Da nada. Call me when you do have the prints. I'm curious to see how they turn out, even if you did have me done up in ridiculous purple boots like some geek."
Sean smiled. "Yeah, you're a good sport."
Ed laughed. "Well, you know you owe me. Don't think I'm not keeping score." He did the tongue thing, and after slapping Sean playfully on the shoulder, he started to leave. He pause a spilt-second, noticing the moisture in his eyes. Ed dabbed at the corner of one eye, and looked at the tear on his fingertip. "Hnh", he said. "Allergies." And he was on his way.
Sean slowly closed the door to his shop and leaned against it, the purple boots dangling limply from his left hand. He blew out a long breath of air, then whispered to no one, "Jesus."
Sean closed his shop and spent the rest of the day working at mundane tasks in attempt to either collect his thoughts about or just plain forget about the situation with the purple boots. It wasn't working. He ran errands, went for groceries, paid utility bills, anything he could think of to keep moving. He'd just finished paying his auto insurance a month early when he stepped onto the elevator in his insurance rep's building. There was only one person inside the elevator. A man. Gorgeous. 6'2". Dark, wavy hair, cleft chin, amazing green eyes. In fine, fine shape. He was dressed entirely in white. Very trim, crisp white coveralls with a fitted waist, opened at the collar to reveal a black T-shirt. Matching cap. Pantlegs tucked into tall white rubber knee boots. Sean paused when the doors open and actually gawked for a moment before he could collect himself.
"Going down?"
Sean almost said, "Babe, if you want to, right here and now would be fine with me." But he managed the considerably less glib "Huh?"
The demigod in the lift said, "This one's going down. Did you want up?"
"No, no", Sean said, stepping on board. "Going down. Just thinking about business. Sorry."
"I know how that goes. One?", the man asked, a finger hovering over the ground floor button. Sean nodded his agreement. The doors closed and elevator began its descent.
Sean glanced down at the man's white rubber knee boots and recognized them instantly. They were a pair that he had created. He then leaned forward a little to make out the red and black logo on the man's cap. The man turned and eyed Sean suspiciously, wondering why this guy was leaning over and checking him out.
"Problem?", he asked curtly.
Sean snapped his fingers. "Dieterman's Dairy! You're with the dairy farmers' group, aren't you? I was trying to make out the name on your cap."
The man seemed relieved, then tilted his head forward slightly to indicate the cap. "Yup. That's us. Wondered what you were doin--"
"Excellent boots", Sean said, cutting him off. "Custom job, right? The Cobbler Shop?"
"Yeah, that's right. You've got a good eye. Cobbler's made all the boots for our whole team. Most comfortable boots I've ever worn, tell you the truth."
Sean nodded. "Thanks. That's what I do. I mean, I work at Cobbler's. I think I made those." Sean always worded things about his shop that way, to make it sound like his business was larger than a one-man operation.
"Oh", the dairy guy said. "Well, nice work, then."
Sean remembered the job. He had handcrafted more than two dozen white boots for that job. And this hunk was one of the recipients of his efforts. The farmer began looking through various papers in a manila file folder he had with him, pouring over some kind of report or financial statement--which would explain what a dairy farmer was doing in a financial building. Sean tried to stare at the illuminated floor numbers above the door as the elevator went further down.
Keeping his face forward, he looked peripherally at those fine white boots. The boots he had made. In fact, he made them in the exact manner in which he had made the purple boots for Ed. The only difference he could think of just then was the color. That was the only difference. Otherwise...the same deal. Handcrafted, soft, supple, shining rubber boots. The elevator wasn't stopping for any other passengers, it seemed. In less than a minute or so, they'd be at the lobby. Sean crossed his fingers and took a chance.
"So, you really like those boots of yours, huh?", he asked the dairy guy.
He only glance back at Sean for a second. "Yup. Sure do." Then went back to his folder.
"They're really comfortable? Great support for your feet, kinda like being massaged as you walk, maybe?"
The dairy guy kept staring intently at his paperwork, but he had obviously stopped reading. He spoke into the folder, saying, "Yeeaah, I guess so."
"And you say you really love those boots, huh?", Sean pressed.
The dairy guy turned to face him. "Look, do you have a point here? You wanna say something?"
"Actually, I'd like to suggest something." And so Sean suggested something to the gorgeous dairy farmer in the shining white rubber boots.
And he never knew what hit him.
Sean sat in his swivel chair behind the counter of his closed shop, nursing his jaw where the dairy guy had hauled off and slugged him. Evidently farmers could kick serious ass when they wanted to. Sean flipped through one of his catalogs, under his listings for rubber knee boots. Page after page of samples flipped through his fingers, each with a closeup of the boots by themselves beside a photo of the clients who now wore them.
Each design was slightly different than the last, all predicated to whatever task they were meant to perform. Another set of white boots were used by a janitorial service. A group of butchers stood clustered before a sparkling clean meat counter in brick red boots. A lawncare specialist and his workers knelt before an immaculate landscape in green wellies. A small unit of volunteer firefighters for a small community posed proudly beside their truck in bright yellow boots. Another entry showed a team of former sailors who now spend their days maintaining and leading tours on a decommissioned World War II submarine stood at attention on he dock beside their vessel in crisp blue naval uniforms and trim baby blue boots. (It sounds strange, I know, but on these guys it looked slick.)
Sean liked to refer to the satisfied customers on these pages as "The Gummi Guys", using the German term for rubber to label the occupants of this catalog section. How many of the Gummis had a connection to their colored boots the way Ed instantly had with his? How many could be controlled? The question tugged at Sean's brain, but the ache in his jaw told him that the idea of approaching each of these guys with invitations to blow him was not a wise way of finding out. Sean of course always made extra pairs of the rubber boots for himself with each job, so he had extra pairs on hand to test out. But he was damned if he was going to call Ed back and put him through anything else.
It was time to call Chad and Craig.