by Ty Marton
“I think it’s admirable,” John said. “Takes a lot of courage to submit yourself to the world, to seek something out without quite knowing what it is that you’re looking for. It isn’t something a lot of people are cut out for…”
Colby gave a soft, happy exhale. It was the first time in ages he had felt as if someone understood him. He realized that the thought of this man making a pass at him didn’t worry him one bit – he was more worried that he himself would be the one making the move. The thought made his mouth run dry.
“Let me ask you something,” Colby said, breaking the silence. “Why on earth would you want to keep all this private? Your work is beautiful – you could showcase it, sell it… hell, you could put it in a gallery…”
John chuckled. “Oh, I don’t keep any of this private. I teach industrial arts, for Pete’s sake. Anyone who knows me knows that I make furniture. ”
Colby scrunched his brow, confused. “But, I thought you said…”
“This isn’t what I wanted to show you, Colby.”
John stepped away, leaving Colby curious and befuddled, and moved across the room to a tall, bulky piece covered in a white sheet. Carefully, lovingly even, he pulled it off.
“Wow…” Colby said, his mouth hanging open in surprise at what he saw. “Is that…”
“Apollo,” John said, running his hand over the grainy, gnarled wooden sculpture. “An abstract take on Greek mythology. Found an interesting hunk of cedar and just started carving at it. Didn’t even know what it was I was making. Pretty soon, this is what was left.”
Colby found himself running his fingertips over the arm of the statue, mimicking John’s touch. The piece was nothing like the furniture. Gone was the simplicity, the purely functional aesthetic. This was totally expressionistic, the naked masculine form captured and displayed exactly as John and John alone wanted it. The face was gaunt and strong, with deep, blank eyes, full lips, and long, flowing hair that perfectly followed the wavy curvature of the wood’s grain, slowly drawing the observer’s gaze down the figure’s thin, yet muscular-looking body, its arm flexed, fingers gripping a large, ornate bow. At the bottom of the piece, the initials ‘JL’ were carved with a flourish into the naturalistic, makeshift base.
“It’s… it’s amazing, John.”
“Thanks,” he said, proudly stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Been sitting here under this sheet for over a month now.” He lowered his head, coughing gently before softly adding, “Never showed it to anyone before.”
Colby’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean, I’m the first?”
John nodded. “I kind of like that it’s just mine,” he said, raising his head and catching Colby’s eye. “It’s nice to have someone to share it with, though.”
Colby smirked, suppressing an urge to blush. There was an odd intensity in John’s eyes, a pointedness that had become more pronounced ever since he’d pulled the sheet down. Colby figured he knew well enough what it meant. Clearly, John was a backwoods, red state closet case – he had suspected it even before the hand-carved naked male statue came into the picture…
“So,” he said, eager to avoid an awkward silence, “you’re not going to show this to anyone, or display it, or sell it… what’s the plan for it then?”
A smile cracked across John’s face, and he patted Colby on the shoulder. “That’s where you come into play,” he said. “I was hoping you’d help me move it. I’ve got a spot picked out for it, but it’s too heavy and delicate to move on my own. Figure it’s the least you can do to earn the lift and the meal.”
Colby suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over him. Had he read too much into all of this? Could John simply have wanted him for a few seconds of quick labor?
“Of course,” Colby said, not sure if he felt relieved or disappointed. “Where are we moving it to?”
John pointed across the floor, to a Navajo-patterned throw rug in the corner. “There’s a door to the basement under that rug. Thought I’d store it down there.”
Happy to be of use, Colby moved the rug aside, revealing a trap door. Lifting a latch, the door came up; Colby propped it open against the wall, peering down a stairwell that led to a dim room, something between a basement and a crawlspace.
“Do you mind going backwards?” John asked as they lifted the statue. “My back isn’t what it used to be…”
Colby didn’t mind, and quickly found himself carrying the brunt of the surprisingly heavy statue. Carefully, he began backing down the narrow steps, with John guiding from the front. “There’s a light switch at the bottom,” John said, his fingers gripping Apollo’s biceps.
“You know,” Colby said, reaching the bottom and crouching down to deposit the base of the statue. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love it if you’d be willing to show me a thing or two about working with wood before I leave. Especially with you being a teacher and all…”
John grinned, returning his hand to Colby’s shoulder and giving it a noticeably firm squeeze as he reached out to turn on the light. “That’s funny,” he said, “I was thinking something similar myself…”
At that, he pulled at Colby’s shoulder, almost forcibly spinning him around to face the rest of the room. The young man froze at what he saw, speechless. There was a hand-fashioned set of stocks, and a large wooden table with built-in wrist and ankle restraints. There were whips and hand-carved paddles hanging from the wall, along with a host of other archaic-looking devices that Colby couldn’t even name. Perhaps most glaringly, at the far end of the room, there stood a human-sized cast-iron cage. Colby realized that the hair on the back of his neck was standing up, his mind suddenly running wild with images of what these things could be used for…
Colby was standing in a makeshift dungeon.
John exhaled deeply, giving Colby’s shoulder another firm squeeze. “Yeah… There’re all sorts of things I think I can teach you,” he said happily.
**********
Chapter 3
Colby stood in stunned silence for a few moments. “What – what is this?” he finally managed to stammer out, his eyes flashing nervously back and forth between John and the room.
“You wanted to know my secrets,” John said with a shrug. “This is where I keep them.”
Colby forced himself to swallow the lump that had developed in the back of his mouth. “Do you… sell this stuff?” he asked.
John smiled mysteriously. “Some of it,” he said, slowly maneuvering himself behind Colby and tracing his fingertips downwards from the boy’s shoulder, over top of the lean, muscular frame of his back.
“Now, I’ve given you a ride,” he said quietly, his breath landing on the back of Colby’s ear. “I’ve cooked you a hot meal, I’ve answered your questions, and I’ve shown you what you wanted to see.” With those words, his hand made its way from the small of Colby’s back around to his stomach, then up to his chest. Colby’s tremble grew into a small gasp as John pulled him back a step, their bodies coming together, the noticeable bulge in the front of John’s jeans pressing its way against the back of Colby’s belt.
“You say that you want to learn from me,” John whispered. “But what can I learn from you? I’ve shown you a look at my private world. What do you have to show me… boy?”
Colby was practically breathless, frozen in the moment. Almost as soon as he had met John, he had felt a faint sexual energy between the two of them; Colby had surmised that the man was repressed, or at least closeted in his desires. But there was nothing repressed about the way John’s hand clutched at Colby’s chest, or about the iron-like quality of John’s voice. Even at a whisper, it seemed to cut straight into Colby, penetrating every layer of his being, cutting to his core like one of John’s tools tearing into a hunk of freshly cut wood…
“I… I don’t know,” Colby finally stammered out, his voice choked with mind-numbing hesitation. “I…”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had an apprentice,” John said, cutting him off. “I think
you’d be an especially good fit for the role. But you’d have to work. You’d have to obey…”
Again, Colby was hesitant, if anything. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I can’t lie to you - you intrigue me, John… this intrigues me. But I showed an interest in your woodwork, and you brought me down into… into a… a dungeon…”
“Don’t insult me,” John suddenly snarled, clenching his fingers deeper into Colby’s chest, “or yourself. You aren’t naïve.” With his free hand, he reached around, planting it squarely over Colby’s crotch, squeezing an erection that he knew full well would be there waiting for him. “You and I both know that your interest in me is anything but innocent. Don’t lie to me, boy – your cock sure doesn’t.”
Colby’s hands had instinctively darted over John’s in what had started as a feeble attempt to pry the man’s fingers off of his crotch. But now, with his eyes locked on John’s, he simply squeezed the man’s hand, even pressing it in tighter against his bulge, giving into the primal urges that had slowly been growing stronger and stronger within him the longer he had stayed in John’s presence.
“Fine, yes…” Colby blurted out. “I’m… attracted to you.” His eyes began darting around the room again, as if he were desperately looking for some kind of lifeline. “That doesn’t mean I want all of… this, though…” he said, waving a frustrated hand towards the room’s furnishings.
“You don’t know what you want,” John said, his tone softening.
Colby deflated a little bit in John’s arms. The man was right, and as a result, he had Colby right where he wanted him.
“So... what exactly is it that you want from me?” he asked, his voice fearful of what might be coming next.
“I want you to be honest with me,” John said plainly. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” Colby said.
“Did you really have any interest in my woodwork, or were you just looking to get fucked?”
“No,” Colby quickly said, perhaps too defensively, “I mean… yes. I really was interested. But I also… found you attractive.”
“So you were prepared to fuck if that’s what happened?”
“I… I don’t know…”
John gave Colby’s balls a rough squeeze. “I told you not to lie to me, boy…”
“Yes,” Colby yelped, “yes, all right?”
“Is this a habit for you?” John asked, relaxing his grip. “Are you some kind of road slut?”
“No,” Colby said, his voice defensive once more. “I’m… I’m picky. I need substance. I need a connection.”
“And that’s what you felt with me? A connection?”
“…Yes,” Colby said, knowing that it was an admission that only added to John’s power over him.
“Do you still feel that connection?”
Colby closed his eyes. He knew the answer, but he was reluctant to admit it. After a few seconds of silence, John gave him another squeeze, a light one this time, more of a threat than anything.
“I do,” Colby said. With John’s arms wrapped around him, touching him with a sense of natural authority, Colby felt weak, vulnerable, and powerless. He knew that he couldn’t lie to this man, and that he couldn’t resist him, either. He simply didn’t have the inclination.
“One final question. Do you trust me?”
Colby gathered himself. “I don’t know yet,” he said. After another moment, he added, “I want to.”
John thought for a few seconds. Then, he released Colby from his grasp, pushing the boy forward and turning him around to look him in the eye. “Here is what I am going to propose,” he said. “You will stay here, with me, for the next twenty-four hours. I will teach you what you want to learn, but you will live by my rules and you will follow my instructions without question.”
“And then what?” Colby asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound too shaky.
John shrugged. “You can leave if you want. Until then, though,” he said, taking a small step closer to Colby and taking the boy’s chin in his fingers, “I’ll be the one making the decisions. And like I said, you will obey me at all times. You will be trained, pushed, and if necessary, punished.
“Punished?” Colby asked, his eyes circling the various instruments of restraint and infliction scattered about the room.
“Yes,” John said flatly. “You will not be harmed, but I reserve the right to hurt you. Pain is a useful tool for motivation and behavior modification, as those testicles of yours have already learned.”
Colby nodded, hoping that his eyes hadn’t gone too wide with fear. “And… what else do you have in mind?”
John shrugged. “Whatever I see fit. All you need to know is that I will never lie to you, and I will never put you in danger or cause you serious harm. Not physically, not mentally, and not emotionally. But believe me when I tell you that you’ll be pushed, and pushed hard.
“I’m asking you to trust me, boy,” he added. “One day. If you’re unhappy, I’ll send you on your way.”
Colby’s head was spinning, powered by the electricity that still seemed to be flowing between the two of them. One side of Colby’s mind wanted to part his lips and subserviently take the man’s thumb into his mouth right then and there, to silently pledge himself to whatever this master had in mind. The other side of him wanted to flee, to run, to get away from this place and not look back. It felt like the same part of him that had wanted to get out of California.
But this wasn’t California. And Colby was tired of running.
“One day,” he said, as if trying the words on. John nodded softly, a pleased smile beginning to form on his face.
“One day,” John repeated.
“I can do that,” Colby said, his mouth growing dry the instant the words came out. John’s smile grew.
“Is that a yes, boy?”
Colby swallowed. “Yes.”
John nodded approvingly, brushing the tip of his thumb over Colby’s quivering lips.
“First rule,” he said. “When addressing me, you’re to refer to me as ‘Master.’ Understood?”
Colby nodded, the gravity of his commitment still sinking in.
“Yes… Master,” he said.
John smiled again, a satisfied purr of a groan escaping the back of his throat. The very sound of it made Colby weak in the knees.
“Second rule,” John said quietly, his eyes dropping lower as he inspected the body of his newest possession. “You will wear no clothing other than what I permit you to wear.”
Colby shivered suddenly. There was no turning back, he realized. Not until twenty-four hours had passed.
“Your shirt, your pants, and your underwear,” John said, his voice growing more insistent. “Give them to me now. You may keep your shoes and socks, but nothing else.”
Colby knew he had no choice but to obey, but still, he hesitated. He already felt more vulnerable than he could ever remember having felt, even after weeks of hitching rides from strangers. Was he really prepared to disrobe in front of this man? And besides… his wallet was in his jeans, his identification… did he really trust this man enough to just hand it all over?
“Now, boy,” John growled, impatient with Colby’s reluctance.
With fear in his eyes, Colby began unbuttoning his shirt, a beloved blue and green flannel that he’d worn for years. Out here, out on the road, its familiar warmth and comfort had been something he’d cherished. But there was no time for getting sentimental. The shirt came off, a newly bare-chested Colby dutifully handing it over.
“Now the rest,” John said, locking eyes with the boy.
Doing his best to hold John’s gaze, an unblinking Colby reached down, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. They weren’t especially tight-fitting, so as soon as the zipper was down, they began to tumble down over his hips, collecting around his knees. Of course, Colby knew his Master demanded more, so, rather than allowing himself to think about it anymore, he turned decisive and hooked his thumbs under the front of his underwear’s wa
istband. Within seconds, the snug-fitting grey cotton briefs had been hooked down beneath his scrotum, his shaft excitedly springing upwards out of its confinement. Colby was officially naked in front of this man, but even now, as he grabbed the sides of the waistband and pushed the underwear down over his ass, letting it drop down his legs to join with his jeans around his ankles, John continued to hold his gaze. His eyes didn’t drop to Colby’s naked body once; instead, they matched the boy’s stare with an intensely focused sense of restraint.
But then again, Colby reasoned as he worked the fabric over his sneakers and stepped free, there would be plenty of time for John to inspect his new “apprentice.” There would be plenty of time for all sorts of things. Twenty-four hours: it had seemed like such a modest and fair proposal, but now, standing nude before this man, Colby thought of it like an eternity.
Unnerved by the intensity of John’s stare, Colby turned his gaze to the floor and knelt down to retrieve his crumpled clothing, casting an anxious, momentary glance at the shameless bulge persisting in the front of the man’s jeans, a bulge that matched the nervous, uncontrollable erection Colby himself was still sporting. He stood back up, handing the clothing over. There was an air of finality to the moment as John straightened the jeans out, neatly folding them over his arm. Colby had nothing now, nothing but his shoes and his socks.
“So… what happens now… Master?” he asked, still adjusting to the jargon of ownership.
“Now?” John asked, arching an eyebrow. “The day is young, boy. Now, we get started.”
**********
Chapter 4
John carried Colby’s clothes to the back of the room, where a set of metal gym-style lockers were stashed behind the collapsed stairwell. Pulling his key-ring from his pocket, he quickly unlocked one of the padlocks, opening a locker and stuffing Colby’s clothes inside. He paused before shutting the locker, mulling something over.
“Are… you going to take your clothes off too, Master?” Colby asked, breaking the silence.