CRAIG & KEEGAN

In very short order, Sean and Keegan found they made a great team. In preparation for his new job, Keegan had studied Sean's field extensively, and it took Keegan almost no time to master the few things he didn't know about shoe making. The two spent a lot of time together, working side by side, dealing with general customers, screening purple boots buyers, and spending hours in the backroom mixing up the magic purple dye mix. Keegan never scoffed at any task, no matter how mundane. He was just as enthusiastic about restocking shelves and taking inventory as he was about suggesting new designs for future rubber boots. He was still painfully shy at times. It was all he could do not to cringe when approved boot clients stood by the dye vat jerking off into their condoms to be tossed into the dye mix. But he always stuck around, despite his discomfort.

Sean and Keegan quickly started spending time together outside the shop, going to clubs, seeing movies, and having dinner. Keegan's earlier hero worship of Sean slowly changed to friendship and Sean started seeing Keegan as an equal rather than as a kid.

Keegan was on hand the day that Craig arrived to pick up his own order for the purple boots. Craig entered the shop with a new confidence the two bootmakers had never seen. His back was straight and a look of strength and self-reliance shone in his eyes. His newly-evolving relationship with Chad seemed to suit him.

Craig smiled at Keegan behind the counter. "Hey. I'm here to pick up a pair of purple boots."

Keegan flipped through an order pickup book. "Right, Craig. I have you down for 10:30. Right on time. And these..." He paused. "I'm sorry, these are YOUR boots? I mean, they've got--"

"My cum and stuff in 'em, yes.", Craig offered.

Keegan blushed, looking back down at the order book. "S-sorry. It's just, I thought you'd be picking up boots for Chad, is all. Y'know, what with your history and all." Keegan felt his shoulders begin to tighten in embarrassment.

"Oh, those days are over", Craig assured him.

Keegan looked up, curious. "You two are still--?"

"Together? Or, more than ever. It's just a partnership now, is all. He'll pick up his own boots eventually, but we agreed that I get first crack at it for at least a week."

"Oh. Okay. I mean, that's great." Keegan looked at Craig, who smiled back. Craig looked like there was something else he wanted to share, but he didn't say anything. "Well, I better go get your boots then."

Keegan went to the backroom curtain and called to Sean. "Craig's here for his boots!" Keegan looked over at Craig, who was leaning comfortably against the counter, feet crossed at the ankle, playfully drumming his fingers against the glass countertop.

"His boots or Chad's?", the call came from back.

"His."

A pause. Then, "No kidding? I'll bring 'em right out."

Sean came out in a hurry, brandishing a shining pair of the purple rubber boots. The size was Chad's, the semen was Craig's. "Here they are, buddy.", announced Sean. I trust you will find them all you hope for and that they'll provide you with hours of enjoymen--" He stopped his comedic presentation when he saw that Craig had come alone. "Where's Chad?"

"Home.", Craig answered matter-of-factly. He was still smiling.

"Well, I just assumed he'd be with you.", Sean said. "So, you wanna take 'em home and test them out there, let me know how they work out?"

"No, I'll test 'em here.", Craig stated.

"On--?" Sean looked around at the shop that was empty of people but for the three of them.

Craig rested a hand on Keegan's arm and grinned, never looking away from Sean. Keegan looked astonished. "Me??", Keegan blurted. "What, are you serious? I-I'm not even Chad's shoe size! They won't fit me."

Craig glanced down at Keegan's tennis shoes, that looked maybe half a size smaller than Chad's. "You're close enough. They'll fit."

Sean stepped in. "Craig, now wait a minute. You have Chad. I'm not gonna just let you--"

Craig frowned at that. "Sean, I'm not going to enslave him. I just want him to try them on to make sure they work okay. I'm leaving here with the boots, not your coworker." Then, to Keegan, "Unless you really feel that uncomfortable, or embarrassed about it."

Keegan looked to Sean for some indication of what he should do. Sean said, "If I have the slightest concern, I'll yank 'em off you, pal."

"Agreed", Craig said. Sean nodded that Keegan could go ahead.

Slowly, Keegan pulled off his tennis shoes. He took a breath, then picked up the purple boots.

"No socks", Craig reminded him.

"I know." He removed his socks and very cautiously lowered his feet into the rubber boots. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes as he placed both feet firmly on the floor. His eyes popped open instantly. He started gasping with mouth gaping wide. "Huh! Huhh! Ho-oooh-OOOHHHH!!" He took in sudden, sharp, short breaths, and braced one arm against Craig's shoulder to steady himself. He was experiencing more pleasure than he'd ever been exposed to before, and he was having trouble handling it.

"Sean, grab the chair", Craig said, pointing behind the counter. Sean ran over and wheeled it back fast. Craig lowered the gasping Keegan into the seat. "There you go", Craig said in a soothing voice. "Easy now, easy, sit down, Keeg." Keegan kept gasping and his shoulders jerked upward. He wasn't in any pain, but he was in the midst of an overdose of pleasure. Keegan's feet shuffled against the floor, making things worse as the friction of the boots sparked more bolts of ecstasy that shot through his body. The more he felt, the more his feet scraped the floor, causing more intense sensations.

"It's too much for him", Craig said quickly. "We've got to get his feet up off the floor." Craig dashed to Keegan's side and put his arms around his torso. Craig looked back at Sean, who was standing there with mouth agape, watching his friend spasming. "Help me!", Craig shouted. His cry snapped Sean out of his daze, and the two of them hefted Keegan to the top of the counter, where they set him on the edge so his booted feet could dangle free.

Keegan's moans seemed to decrease a little, but not by much. He forcibly closed his mouth, pulling his lips inward, but continued to take in sharp breaths through his nose. His hands gripped the edges of the counter and his head nodded sharply up and down.

"That's it", said Sean. "I'm takin' 'em off."

But Keegan held out one palm in a motion to stop Sean's approach. "'M--'M okaay--", he gasped. "I-I c-can control this--!"

"Don't worry about control, Keegan." This from Craig. "Just let go, let it happen. Feel it."

Keegan gasped harder than he had yet, doubling over almost completely. "--ohGod,ohGod,ohGod, feeellss soooo g-good--!", he shuddered. Then, a few more jerking spasms, and Keegan's eyes moistened as he whispered a cry of, "--noooo..." He squeezed his eyes shut tight and a large wet smear appeared on the crotch of his pants. Way too thick to be piss. He had cum all over himself.

Keegan thrust two fists over his eyes. Tears streamed down from behind his fingers, and he shook with mortification over what he'd just done. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry, I tried to hold it, but it felt so good and I c-couldn't--" Keegan doubled over, grasping his head with his hands, weeping. "Oh, my God, it still feels so good, ohhhhh, it's happening again, I can feel it--oh dear God, I shouldn't be feeling this, I'm a bad person--"

Craig was at his side. "Keegan, listen to me." On command, Keegan looked up and his back straightened. His sobs had stopped, but the tears kept streaming down his cheeks. No amount of mind control could stop that. "I know you're still unsure about yourself and what you feel sometimes. I recognized it the first time I met you. Been there, done that. But it's okay. You're okay." Keegan's sharp intakes of breath began to slow. Sean was tempted to intervene but decided to let Craig speak for now, as he seemed to be getting through to his friend.

"Keegan, you need to let yourself accept who you are. You need to allow yourself to feel good. You're not bad, you're not evil, you're simply you. You want to love someone and be loved back. That's good, that's healthy." Craig stood up straight. "And it's alright to feel good."

Keegan's breathing was returning to normal. He sniffed a couple more times. "Look at me, please", Craig said. Keegan turned his head to look him in the eye. "Smile, Keegan." A beautiful smile spread across his face. "I want you--to want to accept who you are, Keegan."

"I-I do--", he started.

Craig interrupted him. "And then I want you to go ahead and accept yourself. Let go and just be who you are and know it's okay." Keegan kept smiling brightly, but he had sad, tearful eyes. Craig gently touched his shoulder. "Move freely as you want to, Keeg." Keegan stopped smiling and he wiped the last of his tears from his eyes. Craig leaned in toward the young man. "You ready to have some fun now, Keegan?"

Keegan looked up and managed a meager smile. He looked a lot better. "Sure."

Craig grinned. "Then laugh."

Keegan started to laugh. Suddenly, fully. As if he'd just heard the world's funniest joke. Craig smiled, adding, "Laugh hard, kid. Think of the best laugh you've ever had in your life and then double it. Laugh your ass off." Keegan exploded with laughter. He gripped his sides and fairly fainted from his joyous outbursts. "Feels great, doesn't it?", asked Craig. Keegan nodded, unable to speak for the guffaws, and fell backwards on the countertop, laughing into the ceiling, his feet dangling limply off the counter's edge, kicking slightly. After a minute or two of that, Craig gave Keegan the okay to let his laughter fade out. Keegan gasped for breath a bit, a few tears trickling from the corners of his eyes. This time, tears of joy.

Craig gestured with two fingers for Keegan to sit up partly. Keegan propped himself up on his elbows. "Are you starting to understand that it's a pretty good thing to feel good?", Craig asked him.

"I'm gettin' there", Keegan confessed.

"That's good, Keegan.", Craig said. "Now, relax your body", he began, then paused, watching as Keegan did as bidden. "And have an orgasm. A big one."

Keegan gasped again, not as desperately as before, and his entire body tensed. His pelvis thrust and he shot a load bigger than any he ever had in his life. His eyes bulged and he spasmed with pleasure, pumping, pumping, firing a hot stream of his juices all over the inside of his pants.

"Let yourself enjoy it", Craig urged. "It feels good, and it's okay to feel good. You know this, Keegan, believe that it's true and accept it." Keegan kept pumping and pumping. The wet splotch on his pants spread wider and wider.

"H-how m-much i-is there??", Keegan gasped.

"As much as you want", said Craig. "You want to stop?"

"N-n-not yet--Uhh!", Keegan hissed out in between breaths. He gripped the counter with one hand and Craig's shoulder with the other. Stream after stream spurted out of Keegan, and he was overcome with erotic sensation. His head fell backwards, and after several more grinding pumps, Keegan gasped out, "...o-okay, that's enough. Please, gotta take...break.."

Craig said, "Okay, you can stop now."

Keegan let out a big "Pphheeeeeeww!!" of relief. He took deep, ragged breaths but could not lose the smile pasted on his face. Craig propped his elbow on the counter beside Keegan's head, his chin resting in his palm.

"Laugh, buddy", he ordered.

And Keegan did, full and hard. And he loved every minute of it.

DALTON

Dalton Crofield had been waiting all week for Saturday night. He sat behind the wheel of his pickup truck, slowly grinding an axe handle in his fists. He had been on "stakeout" as he liked to call it, in the shadows of an alley across the street from the Dimensions nightclub parking lot. Dalton knew that the Dimensions was a notorious hangout site for gays. And if there was one thing that Dalton Crofield could not abide, it was gays.

Dalton came from the old school of thought that whatever was different was evil, and was to be destroyed for the Good of Humanity. Dalton longed for the days that were depicted in the prints and sepiatone photos hung throughout his grandparents' house. The Rockwellian images of small town America with wholesome folks living wholesome lives free from all depravity and immorality.

Dalton dreamt of a clean--or perhaps the better word would be cleansed--country freed of all corruptive influences. No lazy coons, no greedy and manipulative Jews, no job-stealing Asians, and most importantly of all, no faggots. Yes, the queers were the worst of the lot, corrupting our nation by spreading their messages of promiscuity and preversion to our Precious Youth. Their plan was ingenious, he had to admit. They would start by preaching that their subversive lifestyle choice was normal, and after being accepted as normal humans, they would begin their Grand Invasion of our fragile Moral Values. But the plan was not so ingenious that Dalton couldn't detect it. Dalton knew he was one of a select few with sufficient insight and intelligence to see through all the lies. So the fags had to go first. And Dalton knew he had the valor and fortitude necessary to wipe out their entire population one at a time if need be.

Dalton looked at his dashboard clock. It was 2:00am. The club would start emptying out soon. He'd scouted the club for several weeks with almost military dedication. He could even spot some of the regulars now. And as he anticipated, the first couple had just exited the club and were heading to their car.

To look at them, they appeared normal enough. Just two guys leaving a club. Of course, the fact that neither of them had a girl on their arm in itself was suspect. They didn't act drunk or drugged, nor did they paw at each other or drop to the ground and engage in the sexual perversion that was their nature. No doubt the restraint they showed was due to long hours of training in Self-Control Programming by their Leaders in preparation for the Grand Invasion. But then, they slipped. There. Right there. Dalton saw it, even from this distance. They held hands. "Normal" my ass, thought Dalton.

Dalton quietly slid out of his truck, axe handle at the ready. He took great care to close the door silently, as the slam of a truck door could provide the signal for flight to his unsuspecting prey. There was a small click as the door latch caught, and Dalton's head jerked to see the couple still walking toward their vehicle. His presence had not been detected. Well, that was about to change.

Dalton slapped the axe handle against his hand in anticipation. He swiftly crossed the silent night street and padded his way quietly towards the first victims of his very own Project: Save America: Campaign of Strength. The gayboys were only a few dozen yards away now. He picked up his pace.

As Dalton stepped up onto the curb at the far end of the parking lot, his arm involuntarily raised the axe handle, poised to strike. He was about to dash towards the evil gays when he heard the sound of wood on concrete. It was just loud enough for him to hear from where he was, and it stopped him in his tracks. Dalton spun on his heels, axe handle at the ready to bash in the brains of whatever fag had come upon him, or anyone who might attempt to prevent him from doing God's Work.

Dalton stood there, mouth hanging open. He managed a faint, "Uhh..." sound, then said nothing else. Standing before him was a squad of at least nine men, all of whom were built like linebackers. Each one of them was wielding a baseball bat, and held them like they knew exactly how to use them to brutal effect. The squad of giants all wore identical black T-shirts with a six-colored rainbow flag emblazoned across the chest. Scrawled in a ragged font upon the rainbow was the legend "EARL'S ANGELS". And each one of these Angels wore knee-high purple rubber boots.

The one in the lead of the group, a man with massive shoulders and buzzcut hair, extended his bat toward Dalton. "Now just what you suppose you're plannin' on doin' with that little axe handle of yorn, boy?", he demanded in a voice that fell on Dalton's ears like the first stones of an impending avalanche. "'Cause if'n you plan to cause some mischief by harming that nice couple, yonder, just minding their own business, well..." and he spat upon the ground, "I'm afraid that's something me an' my boys jest cain't allow."

Earl took one step forward. "Cuz if you have a problem with them", he said, gesturing with his bat toward the departing couple, "then you got a problem with us." Earl slapped his bat angrily into his palm and aimed a level gaze at Dalton. Dalton's eyes stayed glued to Earl's, but he heard the clatter of wood as his axe handle fell to the ground from his limp fingers, and felt a warm wetness spread across the front of his pants and trickle down his leg.

SEAN & KEEGAN

Sean and Keegan returned to the shop laughing. It had been several months since word first got out about the special purple boots available exclusively at The Cobbler Shop, and despite the complete lack of advertising of the amazing boots, they had been selling like crazy. Even with Sean's required extensive background checks before purchase, he now sold enough of the purple boots to keep himself and Keegan busy during the workweek. He also could discontinue the sale of large name brand footwear to supplement his real love of old world shoemaking. He could pick and choose his clients, and put his heart into every job. Profits were up at the tiny shop by more than 400%. But all this is not why the two of them were laughing.

Sean and Keegan had just come from a Pride Rally. The duo were clad, at Keegan's suggestion--if not insistence--in what he termed "Pride Wear" of his own design. This consisted of purple-dyed painters bib overalls atop a hot pink T-shirt with matching pink Converse high-tops. The bib of the overalls featured a Pride flag patch. Outside the rally their outfits made them stand out, but amongst the crowd there, they fit right in. Especially considering how many purple-booted attendees peppered the proceedings. The exact number was difficult to tally due to all he activity and excitement, even during the portion of the rally designated "These Boots Were Made For Walking--With Pride" most heavily attended by the many satisfied purple boots customers.

Sean was walking on air. He couldn't remember when he'd had so much fun. Keegan seemed high on the fact that Sean was in such good spirits. As Sean flopped down in his swivel chair and began a slow spin, Keegan asked him, "Favorite part?"

"Oh, without question", he replied, "when the purple-booted Promise Keeper gave his enthusiastic talk on 'Helping Our Gay Friends Keep Their Promises, Too'".

Keegan laughed with him. "For me, it was having Earl's Angels lead us all in a chorus of 'Human Family'".

Sean pointed an index finger at Keegan, agreeing. "Yes, yes, I would have to say that was a true highlight in the proceedings." He leaned back in his chair, smiling broadly, continuing his slow spin around propelled by one foot.

Keegan leaned forward on the countertop. "You do know that you were the MVP of this rally? Maybe even of the whole gay community in this area. I heard that gay bashings around town are down to like, zero percent. Thanks to Earl's Angels and a bunch of others, you've helped make this city a better place, Sean. I mean it."

Uncomfortable with his friend's honest praise, Sean stood up from his chair, saying, "Oh, I don't know, Keeg. I'd say you made your own vital contributions to our cause. A good portion of those boots were made by you, after all--"

"Yeah, but it was your formula for--", Keegan started.

But Sean kept on. "--and as far as those of us today who were not in purple boots, I'd say that you and I were the most nattily attired, wouldn't you say?" He spread his arms wide to indicate his Keegan-made Pride Wear. "Who knew you had abilities and aspirations for creating clothing that extended above the knee?"

Keegan snapped his fingers. "That reminds me! Wait here." He tore off into the back room as Sean resettled himself into his chair. He stopped spinning in full circles and enjoyed a slight swivel, back and forth. Keegan came up behind him, setting a flat package wrapped in brown paper on the counter. Just as Sean was about to ask what it was, Keegan reached over his shoulders and lay a large giftwrapped present in Sean's lap.

"What's this?", Sean asked.

"It's for you", Keegan said. "For being so awesome, for giving me this job, for making the first purple boots, you know. You like the paper?"

The paper was a sparkly purple tissue wrapped around what looked to be an oversized shirt box. But whatever was inside was too heavy to be a shirt. Sean grinned, feeling a little embarrassed. "Keeg, you didn't have to, buddy."

Keegan gave Sean's shoulders a small squeeze. "Go on, open it."

Sean slowly tore off the paper, letting it drop to the floor. He gently lifted the lid off the large white box to see what was waiting for him inside. And there was a shining, gleaming pair of purple rubber boots. Hand crafted, never worn. Sean stared at them for a minute, not quite sure he was registering correctly what he was seeing. He looked back over his shoulder at his friend. "Keegan, are these your--?"

"Yup. Sure are."

Sean knew that this was the pair of purple boots that he had made specially for Keegan when he first met him. The pair that Keegan did not know who they would go to. At least, not then. "Keegan, I can't accept these. These were for the right guy for you--have you given up looking?"

Keegan fidgeted a bit. "I've stopped looking", he said, "but I haven't given up."

Then it dawned on Sean. "Me? I'm the one you've been looking for?"

"I felt it from the first time I heard you talk at my college. But I had to get to know you, spend time with you, to be sure. Sean, I--", Keegan lowered his head, blushing--something he hadn't done in months. "I think I love you."

Sean looked directly into his friend's eyes. He could feel it, too. "I love you too, Keegan." Sean held the boots in his hands, watching the way the slick rubber caught the light. After all the pairs of these he had made, never once had he worn any.

"If you don't want to, if you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to put them on", assured Keegan.

Sean was already kicking off his high-tops and pulling off his socks. "Are you kidding? I'm flattered." Sean cuffed the pantlegs of his overalls to mid-calf and yanked on the purple boots before Keegan had the chance to change his mind. Here goes, he thought. The big plunge. Sean put both his booted feet flat upon the floor.

And his whole world changed.

From the knees down, Sean felt alive with an intense tactile sensation of pleasure. It was as if a current of pure joy were running through his ankles, calves, and feet. He was suddenly aware of every molecule of those boots and precisely where they made contact with his skin. The smooth, soft, caressing rubber hugged him like a living thing, holding, supporting, and massaging him with even the faintest movement. Sean wiggled his toes and his entire legs became alive with pleasure. He was suddenly, totally aware of his legs, and of the boots upon them. The intense feeling surrounding his feet and lower legs now radiated upward, encompassing him up to his pelvic region. Sean then stepped forward, causing the boot shaft to rub against the back of his calves and the top of the boot foot to press against his toes. This sent another jolt of intense pleasure up as far as his chest. The glorious sensations swirled around his midsection and beset his groin with a lightning storm of tingling delight. He was brought to an unanticipated state of arousal that exceeded anything he'd ever experienced by a factor of ten. His sturdy overalls tented with the force of his erection. Sean's breathing was very shallow as he slowly tried to rise to his feet, which sent a final burst of giddy exultation right up to the top of his head. He fell back into his chair, gasping in pleasure. In a way, he felt as if the boots reached up with invisible rubber extensions and embraced his entire body. He had no idea how this feeling occurred. He had no idea what inside these boots could be causing it. He had no idea how simple boots could make him feel the way these had. But one thing he did know. He never wanted to take them off.

Sean stuck his feet out in front of him and prepared to spin his chair around in circles at top speed. He felt so giddy, so alive, so excited. The laughter bubbled up inside him until it could no longer be contained and he laughed out loud. He shrugged his shoulders and threw his head back with more giggle fits, finally composing himself enough to say, "Oohhhhhh, MAN!"

"Sean? Could you look at me please?"

That voice. The moment Sean heard it he was struck by something incredible. A spear of purest rapture right to his heart. The voice belonged to Keegan. Keegan... Sean's head was awhirl with more pleasure than he thought imaginable. He turned around in his chair to see the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life. Keegan's. He had slowly grown to realize that he did indeed love Keegan. His willingness to pull on the boots attested to that. But what he felt looking into his eyes was beyond love. It dwarfed everything he felt about this young man before. Looking at him now and feeling the depths of passion he evoked was like taking a bold step forward into what you thought was a wading pool only to discover it was actually an ocean. Sean was ready and willing to drown in that ocean.

"Keegan", he whispered reverently. "Sir..."

Keegan bent down to meet Sean eye-to-eye. "Sean, I want you to listen to me. You will give me your full attention now and obey me completely. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir", Sean said in a voice that seemed to come from far away.

Keegan went on rapidly, but very clearly. He had been practicing this monologue for weeks now and was prepared to see it through. "Don't speak until I tell you to. My name is Keegan, and I am not your Master. You will never address me as "sir". I love you and I believe that you love me."

Sean craned his neck forward a bit, with an urgency expressed in his eyes that indicated he wanted badly to speak his agreement to this, but Keegan held up an admonishing finger to keep him silent.

"I have given you my special purple boots which you made because I wanted you to experience the joy that I know comes with them. But in order for you to keep them, you must do something for me. It may not be easy, but I have every confidence you can do it, Sean. I want you to do this one thing, and then I promise you can keep your purple boots. Are you prepared to do what I tell you? Are you prepared to give me what I want from you?"

Sean nodded his head vigorously.

"That's excellent, Sean", Keegan said. "Here's what I want from you, Sean." Sean leaned forward with wide eyes. Then Keegan said, "Clarity."

Sean sat back, obviously confused at this request. What did his beloved Keegan mean by "clarity"? How could he possibly give him that?

Keegan explained. "Inside your head is a thick cloud of rapture and intoxication. It feels great, I know, but it makes you dependant upon me. My seed is in these boots and that's what's making you feel connected to me. I want you to feel connected to me, but not at all costs. I want you as my friend and I hope as my lover, but not as my slave. It would destroy everything about you that attracted me to you in the first place."

Keegan eased Sean back into his chair and swiveled the seat so Sean was facing away from him. "Close your eyes, relax, concentrate, and let the clouds around your mind lift. You are your own person, you control your own life. Let the mists fade away and the wonderful feeling of physical contact stay with the boots. They still electrify your body with pleasure, but that's all they do. Nothing more."

Keegan took a few steps back and waited. Sean sat with his head bowed forward a bit, as if he had fallen asleep. Every now and then he twitched, as if he were dreaming. After another few minutes he breathed in sharply, and his head bobbed backwards suddenly. Then, his head gently lowered back down until his chin touched his chest. Keegan heard Sean let out a long, easy breath and then smack his lips as would a man first waking in the morning. Sean reached back with both hands and massaged his neck. Then, softly, he said, "Keeg? Buddy?"

Keegan was at his side in a flash. "Yeah, Sean, I'm here. How are the boots? How are you?"

Sean, who looked like he badly needed a nap, looked down at his feet. "The boots--?", he said, then paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Feel fantastic, Keeg. God almighty, they still feel so fucking good it defies description. Thanks." He smiled an easy smile at his friend.

Keegan looked relieved, then suddenly became very serious. "Sean, I want you to suck my cock. Right now."

Sean grinned. "Geez, maybe later, buddy. I am just so not in the mood right now, 'kay?"

Keegan leaned close to Sean and tenderly kissed him on the forehead. "Y'know, I really didn't know if that demand for clarity was going to work or not."

Sean smiled. "Glad it did. Thanks for the boots, pal. And thanks for giving me my brains back."

"My pleasure", said Keegan. "On both counts."

Sean, still hunched low in his chair, swiveled it around to face the countertop. He pointed at the flat brown parcel lying there. "So, what's in package number two?"

Keegan handed it to him, opening it with a quick tug of his finger. Sean looked down at some very detailed clothing patterns for what appeared to be full-body coveralls. High collar, cinched waist, reinforced knees, impressive shoulder padding. Keegan leaned down over his shoulder. "Now that we've got the whole mind-controlling boot thing down", he said, "would you consider giving any thought to making an entire purple rubber suit?"

Sean's eyes bulged and his mind spun at the possibilities. Keegan turned Sean's head back toward him with one finger. He leaned in and they kissed. Sean reached up to wrap his arms around his love, letting the design patterns fall to the floor. The two young men kissed passionately, pushing against the display shelf behind them. Keegan was charged from professing his love, Sean still felt the strange energy coming from his boots. They each knew their embrace would not end until both of them were fully satisfied. They could well end up entwined upon the countertop, or perhaps in the middle of the floor, or on the cot in the backroom.

They were young and in love. Anything was possible.