BILL 
 
                          By Luke Owens 
 
     Portland can be a boring town.  Sometimes. 
     I was home on leave from the Navy and had gone out to Dahl 
and Penne's one Friday night (the Cell hadn't opened yet, this 
being only 1977).  I was 21 and wearing my uniform, so I was 
getting lots of attention, most of which I didn't want.  Then 
Bill came up and told me I was coming home with him. 
     Now Bill wasn't a prettyboy, but he was the hottest man I 
have ever seen.  He was wearing a khaki cop uniform and filled 
it out better than most cops I have seen. I couldn't see his 
eyes because he was wearing mirrored sunglasses, but that only 
made his fantasy image hotter.  I was not only turned on by his 
looks, but by his assurance that I would take his orders without 
question.  This was what I had been looking for!  We went to his 
place. 
     When we got to his place, Bill put me through my paces 
after a short talk. 
     "I ain't into no lovey-dovey crap," he told me.  "If I 
wanted that, I would've picked up a drag queen or somethin'. By 
accepting me, you've placed yourself under my orders and agreed 
to follow them without hesitation or question.  Understood?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!" I shouted, just like at boot camp. 
     "Good.  Strip and put your uniform on that chair." 
     I neatly folded my uniform and put it on the chair he had 
pointed to.  When I turned to face him, he was no more than six 
inches from me, holding something made of leather.  It was a 
hood with laces up the back.  He handed it to me and told me to 
put it on. 
     He made sure the hood was on right before he laced up the 
back and tied it down firmly.  Then he put another piece of 
leather over the eyepieces and it snapped on, blocking off my 
vision.  He then put my wrists into a pair of handcuffs and 
locked them behind my back. 
     "We won't bother with the gag until I decide you need it. 
And you will," he said with a grin I could hear, even though I 
couldn't see it. 
     He forced me down to my knees and pushed me down to his 
boots and ordered me to lick them.  I obeyed eagerly, boots 
being one of my favorite things.  I love the taste and smell of 
polished leather and get a raging hard-on just looking at a nice 
pair of boots or even thinking about them.  I'm not so turned on 
by the soles, but it's all part of the scene, so when Bill 
lifted the boots for me to clean the soles, I did.  When I was 
done with that, I took the toe of his boot into my mouth and 
sucked on it like it was a hot cock.  He laughed with surprise. 
     "Shit, you sure like my boots, don't ya, boy?" 
     I mumbled indistinctly through my full mouth, unwilling to 
give up that wonderful leather. 
     He hit me on top of my head, hard.  It didn't really hurt, 
because of the hood, but it sure got my attention. 
     "When I ask you a question, boy, you stop what you're doin' 
and answer me!  Got that?" 
     Reluctantly I pulled away from his boot. 
     "Yes, Sir.  I'm sorry, Sir, it won't happen again." 
     "Sorry ain't gonna get your ass fucked, boy.  I'm gonna 
have to punish you so you'll remember.  I'm gonna shave you." 
     I started begging him not to; I didn't want the guys on my 
ship to see me without any hair on my body.  I was promising to 
be good; to do anything Bill wanted me to, as long as he didn't 
shave me. 
     I should have saved my breath; all I got for my begging was 
a gag that snapped to the hood just like the blindfold. 
     He fastened some kind of collar around my neck and put a 
leash on it.  I was ordered to my knees and told not to get up 
from them until I was given permission.  Then Bill started 
jerking on the leash and I had to follow him on my knees. 
     I heard a door open and felt a cool gust of air hit my 
body.  I balked and Bill jerked the leash harder, but I kept 
fighting him; I didn't want to be seen like that from the 
street. 
     "Get your ass out here, kid," he growled.  "Ain't nobody 
gonna see ya.  We're just goin' to the garage through the back 
yard and that's fenced in."  With that he gave a mighty jerk on 
the leash and I fell out the door. 
     I managed to get back to my knees, no small feat without 
the use of my hands, and Bill kept pulling on that leash the 
whole time like he didn't care if I was following under my own 
power or not. 
     He got me into the garage and closed the door.  I heard him 
flip a switch and then he led me to the far wall and told me to 
stand up.  He pushed me over to where he wanted me and I felt 
him putting some kind of restraints on my ankles.  Then he undid 
the handcuffs and put my wrists, one at a time, into restraints 
that held my arms up over my head. 
     He took the collar off my neck and removed the hood, 
replacing the gag with another that didn't need a hood.  It was 
a leather band that went around my head and held my mouth open. 
I wasn't sure what that accomplished, but figured I'd find out 
later.  Boy, was I right about that! 
     He held up a straight razor in front of my face.  I'd never 
seen one before and the way the light glinted off it, I was sure 
I didn't want him to use it on me.  I couldn't do anything about 
it if he did, though. 
     "You see how sharp this is, boy?  You better hold still 
because I bet you don't want to lose your balls or somethin'.  I 
want you smooth and I want you to watch what I'm doin'.  We'll 
both enjoy it more that way." 
     With that, he started shaving my left pit.  He wasn't using 
any kind of soap or shaving cream or whatever, just the razor. 
It felt like he was sandpapering my pit. 
     Obeying his order, I watched as the hair came off my pit. 
I was kind of scared about what people would say when they saw 
me without any hair, but I was also turned on by what was 
happening; my dick told me that. 
     Bill's dick was just as hard as mine was, but he had more 
than I did, if the bulge in his pants was any gauge.  He was 
still wearing his cop uniform, right down to the mirrored 
shades, and looked so hot I thought I would die from wanting 
him. 
     But he kept right on shaving me from the neck down.  It 
took a long time, but he was patient and got the job done.  When 
he had finished, he took the gag out of my mouth and stood there 
expectantly for a few minutes.  Not knowing what he wanted, I 
looked down at my denuded body.  It looked just like a kid's, 
not a hair to be seen.  It was ugly, but somehow exciting at the 
same time.  The only reason I didn't get a hard-on was that I 
had had one all through the scene. 
     Finally he grabbed me by the hair on my head. 
     "Since you're not thanking me, I'll assume you want more 
taken off." 
     With that, he put the gag back in my mouth and walked off. 
When he came back, he was carrying a pair of scissors. I 
realized right then that he intended to shave my head.  I felt 
my eyes grow wide and shook my head violently. 
     "Too late, boy.  You had your chance to thank me; now it's 
gonna cost you your hair for not doing it!" 
     He started cutting my hair with the scissors until it was 
short enough to shave.  That didn't take long, since I wore a 
regulation cut.  It felt strange being completely hairless.  The 
air was both hot and cold against the areas Bill had shaved. 
     This time, when he took the gag out, I was sure to thank 
him profusely for the shaving and the lesson.  I sure didn't 
want my eyebrows taken off, too! 
     He didn't say anything, just grunted.  He unhooked the 
restraints from the bars; first my arms, which went behind my 
back and then my legs.  I went to my knees immediately.  He 
cuffed my wrists behind me again and put the hood and collar 
back on me.  He told me to stay where I was and walked off. 
     The next thing I heard was a squeaking sound, followed by 
rushing water.  It ran for a while and then was muted; it 
sounded like something was being filled and I was afraid I knew 
what that something was:  an enema bag. 
     After a while, Bill came back over, grabbed me by the 
collar and pulled me to my feet.  He led me over to another area 
of the garage and bent me over a padded post.  He locked my 
ankles to the floor and released my wrists long enough to secure 
them on the other side.  My cock and balls were just below the 
bottom of the post and it felt like the post had been cut away 
so that they would fit.  I was soon proved right about that when 
Bill reached underneath the post, pulled my cock and balls as 
far forward as he could and brought another piece of padded wood 
up to lock into place.  It felt like a pillory for the genitals; 
my cock and balls were on one side of the wood and the rest of 
me on the other. 
     "Your ass is gonna get a good cleaning out now, boy," Bill 
growled.  "Don't pull away or you'll rip your nuts off!  Now 
hold still!" 
     With that, he stuck a grease-covered finger up my ass. 
Instinctively, I moved my ass up and back to give him better 
access and immediately felt the pain as my nutsack tried to go 
through the hole in the wood.  With his free hand, Bill smacked 
my ass, not taking his finger out of my hole. 
     "I said, `Hold still!'" he yelled.  I relaxed and he began 
pumping his finger in and out of my ass, loosening me up for the 
nozzle.  He removed his finger entirely every few strokes to add 
more grease. 
     Finally he pulled his finger out of my ass, gave me a 
smack, and put the nozzle in.  He let me rest like that for a 
few minutes, getting used to the hard rubber nozzle inside me. 
Shortly I gave a sigh and relaxed against the post and heard a 
click.  My enema had started. 
     Bill had not gagged me again and I now found out why. 
While the water (which I later found out had soap in it) rushed 
into my gut, Bill came around in front of me and pushed his huge 
dick into my mouth.  It was an interesting feeling, slowly 
getting filled at one end while getting fucked in the other.  I 
hadn't actually seen Bill's dick yet, but it felt huge and 
uncut.  He grabbed my head at the back, where the laces of the 
hood were, and shoved that piece of meat down my throat. 
     Pretty soon, my guts started to protest the load coming 
into them.  I was getting cramps and moaning about it past 
Bill's cock.  He ignored me and kept pumping his cock back and 
forth in my mouth. 
     It took a while, but I finally felt the flow into my ass 
stop as the bag emptied itself.  I was relieved, sure that Bill 
was going to let me get rid of the stuff now.  Then he reached 
up and I heard another click and another flood of water started 
pouring into my gut.  I tried to scream, but Bill's cock was 
still gagging me. 
     "You're gonna get a full gallon and hold it a while before 
you can shit, boy" he said.  "Get used to it; if you keep comin' 
round here, you're gonna get lots of shit up your ass!" 
     He put a popper up to my nose and I went into orbit, hardly 
noticing as the second bag was allowed to empty itself into me. 
All I was aware of was the cock in my mouth and the hardness of 
my own. 
     About halfway through the second bag, Bill abruptly pulled 
his cock out of my mouth, mumbling about not wanting to cum just 
yet.  He left me where I was for a second, putting the gag in my 
mouth when he returned.  Then he left the garage. 
     When he came back, he took the gag out for a minute to let 
me sip some of the beer he had brought back with him.  Then he 
put the gag back on me and went around behind me. 
     I don't know what he did next, but suddenly I was filled 
with vibrations coming through the hose attached to my ass.  It 
was painful, but somehow exciting at the same time.  The 
vibrations, coupled with the water that had all but filled my 
gut, sent me back into an orbit filled with ecstatic pain and I 
came all over the floor. 
     Bill immediately squeezed the last bag, forcing the liquid 
into my ass faster and harder, causing me a lot more pain than I 
had ever felt.  I tried to scream but the gag cut off all but a 
little of the noise. 
     "You didn't have permission to cum, boy," he yelled.  "Now 
you're gonna have trouble, big time!" 
     It was all over soon.  The bag emptied itself into my butt 
quickly under the pressure Bill was putting on it.  He removed 
the nozzle and shoved a butt plug in its place. 
     "You aren't gonna get rid of that shit until I say so, boy! 
And when I'm done with ya here, you're gonna clean up that mess 
you just made with your tongue!" 
     Then he started laying into my ass with what felt like a 
two-by-four.  He wasn't holding back either; I could tell that 
he was pissed!  He just kept flailing away at my ass until I 
couldn't stand it any more and tried to scream again. 
     "You earned this, shithead!  Take your beating like a man!" 
WHACK!  "You're gonna have to learn not to do things without 
permission!"  WHACK!  "Got that, boy?"  WHACK! 
     I nodded, but the beating kept up.  Finally, when I was 
limp against the post, it stopped.  My ass felt like it was on 
fire and I knew I wouldn't be able to sit down for a long time. 
My gut was cramping up from the liquid inside it, too, but Bill 
wasn't about to let me get rid of it yet. 
     He let me loose from the post and made me lick my jism up 
of the floor until he was satisfied that I had done as thorough 
a job as I was capable of, after taking the gag off me. 
     "You want another drink, boy?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!" 
     He let me have another drink out of the can, which was 
somewhat warmer by now, but still cool.  When I was finished, he 
took the can away and let me rest for a short time. 
     "More, boy?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!"  Then I had a thought.  "Permission to 
speak, Sir!" 
     "Granted.  What's on your mind, boy?" 
     "Sir, may my next drink be warm, Sir?" 
     He grabbed me by the back of the hood and tilted my head 
up. 
     "You sure about that, boy?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!" I shouted eagerly. 
     "Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered.  He unzipped his pants 
and shoved his cock in my mouth.  "Just remember, you asked for 
this, boy!" 
     His piss flooded my mouth and I drank it as though it was 
going out of style.  It tasted just like warm beer and I loved 
it.  His reminder that I had asked for it wasn't needed; I had 
done this before and was a big fan of recycled beer.  Evidently 
Bill was used to guys who hadn't done anything of this type 
before and had to be forced. 
     When he was done, Bill stood back and waited. 
     "Sir, thank you, Sir!  That was great, Sir!" 
     He grabbed me by the collar and led me over to the toilet, 
removed the butt plug and sat me down. 
     "Don't let it out until I tell you to, boy," he warned.  He 
put his cock back into my mouth and started fucking my face 
again.  I tried to hold back and somehow managed to keep it all 
in until he gave me permission to shit. 
     The flood that came from my ass would have rivaled Niagara 
Falls, the way it felt.  It didn't all come out at once, either. 
We stayed there for a long time until Bill was satisfied that I 
was finished.  My gut felt empty and I wanted it to be full 
again, although not as full as it had been a few minutes ago. 
     Bill stood me up and clipped the leather wrist restraints 
together.  He removed the handcuffs and told me to kneel.  He 
put the leash back on me and led me back into the house and up a 
flight of stairs. 
     "I don't normally do this," he said, "but you're gonna 
spend the whole night with me in my bed.  Most boys get their 
asses fucked in the garage and kicked out." 
     He told me to stand up and lie on the bed on my back.  It 
wasn't comfortable with my arms secured behind me, but I did it. 
At that point, I think I would have done anything he wanted. 
     He lay down on top of me after taking off his clothes and 
started playing with my tits.  He started off gently, but 
quickly built up to pinching them painfully.  Then he started 
chewing on them.  I started moaning through the gag, arching my 
back to make them more accessible to them. 
     Then he put a pair of alligator clips on them.  I was glad 
then that I was gagged; if I hadn't been, the neighbors would 
have called the cops and told them somebody was being murdered 
over there.  The only tit clamps I had ever had on were the 
rubber tipped kind. 
     Bill gave me another hit of poppers and proceeded to swat 
me in the balls with his hand.  That hurt too, but not enough to 
take my mind off my tits.  Then he put my legs in the air and 
felt around my asshole with his fingers. 
     "You got enough grease left down there, boy.  You're about 
to get your ass royally fucked!" 
     He draped my legs around his shoulders and shoved that huge 
piece of meat inside me in one thrust.  Now I forgot about the 
pain in my tits.  The pleasure of having Bill's dick inside me 
offset the pain from the clamps. 
     He started out slow, but hard, thrusting as though he 
wanted his dick to come out my mouth and pulling out slowly. 
Just before he pulled out altogether, he rammed it back in as 
hard as he could.  He grabbed my cock with one hand and ripped 
the gag out of my mouth with the other. 
     "I'm gonna jack you off, boy.  Don't you make a sound 
unless you're gonna cum and then you better get my permission 
first.  Understand, boy?" 
     "S-sir, yes, Sir!" 
     He started jacking me off, hard and fast.  I damn near came 
several times while he was fucking me, but when I asked for 
permission, he denied it and stopped jacking me off until I 
wasn't going to cum anymore.  His cock inside me felt like it 
was getting bigger all the time and it was pumping my ass harder 
and faster and feeling great! 
     Finally, he gave me permission to cum.  Just as I started 
to cum, he let out a yell like a lion's roar and exploded inside 
my ass!  We lay there, each of us pumping his load out, Bill in 
my ass and me in Bill's hand, until both of us had stopped. 
Even then, we just lay there, catching our breath, feeling the 
aftershocks of our orgasm and the warmth of each other's body. 
     Finally, Bill stirred. 
     "I gotta piss." 
     "Then do it, Sir." 
     He pulled the blindfold off the hood and looked into my 
eyes as I felt his piss start flooding my gut.  I locked my 
ankles around behind his neck and smiled at him. 
     When he was finished, he pulled my head toward him and 
shoved his tongue down my throat and fucked my face with that 
for a long time.  Finally he looked at me. 
     "We're not gonna be Master and slave," he whispered, "but 
we're sure gonna have a lotta good times together." 
     Have we ever! 
 
Copyright (c) 1987, by Luke Owens.  Used with permission.
.