Down the Lane of Memory
With all the clarity of hindsight, it's all so obvious but at the time it was happening I was completely oblivious to his grooming. It didn't seem odd to me that he seemed interested in me, was always out front whenever I made a delivery or that he was a generous tipper. He always made me feel good about myself, commenting from time to time how he admired how I looked, acted, spoke and thought. That's why it came as no surprise to me when he mentioned how he was considering me as a model for his art group. Looking back now I can see what he was up to but back then it was all incredible to me and I lapped it all up. Which is why and how I found myself naked except for my Y whites standing on a low stool being gwacked at and commented on by several leather clad men.
Sometimes it feels like it happened just yesterday for I remember it so clearly, the quiet murmmers of appreciation as the men expressed their pleasure at my presence, the low lighting, the feel of the air on my flesh, the man scent and most important, the excitement of the moment I was feeling in anticipation of what was going to happen. Yeah, I knew why I was there, knew what was going to happen. These men were all artists and they needed someone like me to pose for them. I wasn't surprised to be stripped down to my undies. They wanted to express the free spirit of nature and when they began to bind me they were preparing me to pose as someone trapped and bound, unable to express the wonders of natural freedom. Sir explained it all to me. These were the first artists I had ever met. Not that they talked to me. As they posed me and began to take pics, they discussed whether to dispense with the whities or not. I was just a thing there for their use. Sir had made that clear to me. All I had to do was do what they wanted and that would make Sir very happy with me.
I now know that the admiration I thought I saw in those men was a hunger and that I was actually prey. Amazing the difference in understanding a few years makes. But that night, I knew very little save that the man I had come to think of as Sir thought enough of me to offer me to his artist friends. Thoroughly puffed up I was as they touched me all over, positioning me as they saw fit. I tried to hold still but little shivers kept running thru me and breathing would quicken should fingers linger on some sensitive spot. After some discussion it was decided that it was best if I was naked and very quickly I was, a woodie hard as a nail poking the air and my whities tossed aside. The first position they choose for me was to stand with my feet apart and my arms raised straight above my head. Stepping down from the stool and spacing my legs, I straightened my back and reached upward, my head between my arms. One of the men growled for me to hold that position. Taken aback by the almost menace his tone, I turned to face him and before even completing the turn felt the slap aimed at my ass. 'Damit, boy! Told you to hold still. Don't you fcuking move!'
Frozen in place I couldn't understand why he was so angry with me. I hadn't done anything wrong. I was trying my best to do what they wanted and make Sir happy with me. I straightened a bit hoping to please but all that got me was another slap on the ass. 'You keep squirming boy and we'll tie you in place.' That got my attention. Playing tie-up was something I only did for Sir. Had he told his friends? Playing with Sir was one things, being tied up by strangers something else. Sir must have told them and he had told me how much it would please him if I pleased these men. And how I wanted to please Sir. He was my friend. Looking back, it all becomes clear but as I lived thru it, everything made perfect sense.
'Don't you go minding him, lad. Old Phil there is always grouchy. You're doing a fine job and are a credit to our good friend who brought you here today.' At the sound of a new voice I almost turned to see who it was but stopped myself, holding myself still. A warm feeling sort of bubbled up within me and the sense of relief washed over me. I was doing ok, I was making Sir proud. The man who had spoken came and stood in front of me, smiling as he reached over and tousled my hair. 'You're a fine looking lad. They raise 'em well out here in the country.' I grinned back at the compliment and reveled in the good feelings being felt. These were joined quickly with a gasp as I felt his finger stroke my woodie and something close to an electric current zapped through me. All the while he kept eye contact and looked into my soul.
Sometimes it feels like it happened just yesterday for I remember it so clearly, the quiet murmmers of appreciation as the men expressed their pleasure at my presence, the low lighting, the feel of the air on my flesh, the man scent and most important, the excitement of the moment I was feeling in anticipation of what was going to happen. Yeah, I knew why I was there, knew what was going to happen. These men were all artists and they needed someone like me to pose for them. I wasn't surprised to be stripped down to my undies. They wanted to express the free spirit of nature and when they began to bind me they were preparing me to pose as someone trapped and bound, unable to express the wonders of natural freedom. Sir explained it all to me. These were the first artists I had ever met. Not that they talked to me. As they posed me and began to take pics, they discussed whether to dispense with the whities or not. I was just a thing there for their use. Sir had made that clear to me. All I had to do was do what they wanted and that would make Sir very happy with me.
I now know that the admiration I thought I saw in those men was a hunger and that I was actually prey. Amazing the difference in understanding a few years makes. But that night, I knew very little save that the man I had come to think of as Sir thought enough of me to offer me to his artist friends. Thoroughly puffed up I was as they touched me all over, positioning me as they saw fit. I tried to hold still but little shivers kept running thru me and breathing would quicken should fingers linger on some sensitive spot. After some discussion it was decided that it was best if I was naked and very quickly I was, a woodie hard as a nail poking the air and my whities tossed aside. The first position they choose for me was to stand with my feet apart and my arms raised straight above my head. Stepping down from the stool and spacing my legs, I straightened my back and reached upward, my head between my arms. One of the men growled for me to hold that position. Taken aback by the almost menace his tone, I turned to face him and before even completing the turn felt the slap aimed at my ass. 'Damit, boy! Told you to hold still. Don't you fcuking move!'
Frozen in place I couldn't understand why he was so angry with me. I hadn't done anything wrong. I was trying my best to do what they wanted and make Sir happy with me. I straightened a bit hoping to please but all that got me was another slap on the ass. 'You keep squirming boy and we'll tie you in place.' That got my attention. Playing tie-up was something I only did for Sir. Had he told his friends? Playing with Sir was one things, being tied up by strangers something else. Sir must have told them and he had told me how much it would please him if I pleased these men. And how I wanted to please Sir. He was my friend. Looking back, it all becomes clear but as I lived thru it, everything made perfect sense.
'Don't you go minding him, lad. Old Phil there is always grouchy. You're doing a fine job and are a credit to our good friend who brought you here today.' At the sound of a new voice I almost turned to see who it was but stopped myself, holding myself still. A warm feeling sort of bubbled up within me and the sense of relief washed over me. I was doing ok, I was making Sir proud. The man who had spoken came and stood in front of me, smiling as he reached over and tousled my hair. 'You're a fine looking lad. They raise 'em well out here in the country.' I grinned back at the compliment and reveled in the good feelings being felt. These were joined quickly with a gasp as I felt his finger stroke my woodie and something close to an electric current zapped through me. All the while he kept eye contact and looked into my soul.
3 years ago
