Boys Like You

Boys Like You

Part Seven

By Randall Austin

This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com

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As Randall and Dean sat in the bathtub after Dean had successfully poled and tamed his little brother, Dean explained that he and his friend Earl were going to a Linn County Lawyers Association meeting that afternoon and because Randall was in the Stage One' program, he was not allowed to be left alone without a babysitter' and therefore Dean told Randall he had decided it would be an excellent time to have Simon Kettlestick, the young overseer and Earl's neighbor, over to give Randall a crash course in basic social servant protocol.

When Randall protested, saying that anyone who decides at age 15 that they want to be a professional servant handler was no different than someone who decides at age 15 they want to work in a slaughterhouse; both were clearly the choices of people with dark problems. Dean set Randall straight. "Simon already has a Level `C' servant handler's permit. It's not as easy to get that as you think. A big part of what goes into modern handler's training is motivational techniques. Earl tells me that he often has little Simon over to give his slaves, Brendan and Reginald, pep talks!"

When Randall scoffed, Dean gave him a warning look and the freshly chastened Randall immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, bro. That was the old me reacting. I really am going to try and change my attitude, and not be so cynical."

Dean rubbed Randall on the head. "I'm so proud of my little brother making an effort to try a new way. I knew you had it in you." Dean's head rub sent waves of pleasures through Randall.

After the brothers took a brief rinsing shower, Dean handed Randall a big towel. "Come on bro. Let's get you started on doing my personal service. For starters, I want you to towel dry me." Randall felt at once a pang of resistance at his brothers demand, but it was immediately diminished when he thought of how defiance could get him punished; and it was diminished further when he realized that he really did want to towel dry his brother and it was diminished even further when his brother started complimenting him on the good job he was doing drying him off. As Randall dried his brother off and accepted that service was something that made him feel good and if he really accepted his lot, a wonderful, sweet, feeling of subservience swept over Randall and hardened his dick.

After towel drying, Dean had Randall clip his finger and toenails, give him a massage, apply antiperspirant to his underarms and gel and comb his hair. By the time Randall had completed his brother's personal services his dick tip gleamed with a drop of precum. Dean pointed to it. "You are not to touch that thing without my permission! If I get a good report on your behavior from Simon when I get home from my meeting, then we can consider addressing your needs."

"Remember Simon's status as a certified handler means that he has full authority over you legally while I am away. You are to do whatever he says."

As Dean got dressed in his Brooks Brothers suit, Randall put on his yellow boxer briefs and jumpsuit. Earl arrived soon afterwards, wearing a crisp, gray, expensive suit. In contrast to their fine clothes, Randall felt, in his yellow jumpsuit, like a servant through and through. As he served the two young, successful, lawyers a cup of coffee as they awaited the arrival of Simon Kettlestick, Randall tried to think of other boys throughout the city doing the same thing he was. He wondered if they too had thoughts that they were laughable as they hobbled around bald, braced, collared, cinched, and jumpsuited.

Earl commented to Dean on Randall's behavior, "He has certainly made progress. Quite impressive, Dean."

Dean bowed, "Why thank you!"

Earl looked at Randall. "With Randy's new right attitude, he will be a real ace servant once Simon helps him get his basic protocol down. And he really needs it! For example, the way he just served us our coffee is the way we, you, Dean, and I, would serve coffee to our friends. But that isn't how a properly trained servant with correct etiquette would ever do it." Earl addressed Randall, "You don't just hold out a cup and say, "Here, take it." What you do is approach the free person, observe first if you will be distracting them if you speak, do a slight bow of the head, then always use a proper form of address, then..."

As Earl continued speaking Randall looked at him in contempt. His old defiance was still present, but now he knew to check it. But he also wondered if he were to be deferential to Earl, would he then start feeling good inside the same way he did when he was obedient and deferential to his brother. He decided to try it, "Thank you Earl. That is good to know. I really have a lot to learn and look forward to my time with Mr. Kettlestick."

Earl was taken aback, "Wow! That is some change man!" Earl patted Dean on the back, "You've been making the right moves dude, in getting this little guy on course. Whatever you've been doing to this work boy, keep on doing it. It's working wonders!"

Randall was amazed; even with Earl's condescending tone, the same, strange, sweet, feeling of subservience swept through him.

There was a knock on the door and Dean ushered Simon Kettlestick into the living room to introduce him to Randall. Randall sensed an officious air about Simon and disliked him immediately. Simon, being an earnest young handler who took his role and the role of servants seriously, made no such prejudgments of Randall.

Simon was short, dark haired, lithe and well groomed. He had clear brown eyes, a thin and well-shaped nose and looked athletic. He was neatly dressed in slacks, shirt and a trainer's vest. He carried with him a long and compact version of the standard trainer's case. And though he was serious in nature, Dean did not consider him to be in any way officious or pompous: only a serious young man who took life seriously.

Dean spoke, "Simon, Earl has raved to me so often about the excellent motivational work you do with his servants. Any tidbits of wisdom which you could offer to Randall would be most appreciated by both Randall and myself."

Simon smiled earnestly, "Thank you, Mr. Inslee. I am humbled and flattered whenever anyone compliments me on my work with servants, because I take my work very seriously. I take my work seriously because I take servants seriously. I would be most happy to offer any information to Randall that I believe is relevant. After I get to know him a little, have an assessment chat with him, I'll be better able to judge in what areas he needs assistance."

Dean was impressed; to his mind anyone who displayed such poise and grammatical correctness at the age of 15 was certainly mature. To Randall it was a reason to be concerned. Dean was beaming, "Well this should be just wonderful." Dean reminded Randall to behave, "Now remember Randall, to behave yourself and do whatever Simon asks. Simon, please remember that you are in charge here. Randall has been a good boy lately, so I don't expect there to be any problems. I have already told Randall that if you give him a good behavior report, then I'm going to let him jerk and squirt this evening."

Simon did a schoolboy smile that was so broad it scrunched up his nose and revealed all of his teeth. He seemed to relish the fact that he would be the one deciding whether or not Randall could do what free boys do all the time. Randall went red with embarrassment, almost feeling betrayed at Dean's making something so private so public. Dean noticed Randy's reaction and commented, "Randall, get over it. You're a social servant now and privacy is no longer anything you need to be concerned about."

Earl filled Simon in on the issue, "Randall's had some real problems controlling his urges, and that's one of the reasons he's in this rehab program. The way I understand it is that basically if you left Randy alone with himself, he couldn't keep himself away from porn and his hands away from his crotch."

Simon shook his head and took on a serious look, realizing for the first time that he was dealing with a social servant who has some real problems. He tried to reassure Dean, "Don't you worry, Mr. Inslee, I won't let Randall out of my sight. And if does try to take advantage of my good nature, he won't get away with it because I'm not only real good at seeing through servants and their tricks, but if I catch them being sneaky in any way I have some nifty methods of teaching them to be honest."

Earl and Dean smiled, pleased, and Earl supported Simon's claim, "You can trust what Simon says, Dean. His father tells me that they have a wide circle of friends who use Simon as their babysitter for their servants, and whenever Simon has been in charge there have never been any problems."

Simon did a slight happy bow, "Thank you Earl." Simon looked at Dean, "Please don't worry about anything, Mr. Inslee. Randall's in good hands with me and I don't expect there to be any problems"

As Dean and Earl made their way to the door, Dean said, "You two kids have a good time now!"

As they exited, Simon was enthusiastic, "We will! I hope you two gentlemen have a good afternoon!"

Simon looked about the living room and asked Randall, "Shall we chat in here?"

Randall shrugged his shoulders, "Sure, why not?"

Simon took a seat in an easy chair and Randall sat on the couch. Simon was surprised, "I didn't say you could sit."

Randall was puzzled, "Oh! Well I guess you didn't."

Simon waited to see what Randall would do and when he saw that Randall was going to remain seated, he realized that Randall really did not have any training in the basics of servant protocol. Simon took out a notepad, scribbled something on it, crossed his legs and asked, "Randall, give me a sense, if you will, of just how you are finding the `Stage One' program; your goals, your feelings, how your initial orientation failed or didn't fail to meet your expectations, whether your paradigm of social servitude was consistent with the societal matrix and whether or not the imparting of assumptions of both society in general and your own could reclude or give cause to reclude, your effectiveness, productivity, and your long term viability as a social servant."

Randall did not know whether to laugh or be afraid. He scratched his head, "Well, so far... you know, what can I say? I'm wearing this yellow jumpsuit. Doesn't that sort of say it all?"

Simon scribbled in his notebook. He looked up at Randall, stared at him, then asked, "Are you mad that I'm here?"

"No."

Simon kept staring into Randall's eyes, "I'm seeing hostility coming from you. Would you care to explain that?"

"I'm not hostile, I'm not mad, I'm not upset."

Simon kept staring into Randall's eyes, "I don't believe you."

Randall shrugged his shoulders, "Well! ...Okay then."

"I want you to stand up and put your hands at your sides, and..."

Randall interrupted him, "Look, I was told you wanted to talk to me about standard service procedures. I'm here and I'm listening, but I don't intend to go hopping around while you snap out orders. This is the weekend and Dean told me weekends would be mellow. If you want to talk, go ahead. I'm all ears."

Simon realized he had a challenge, but he remained calm, "I don't `talk' to social servants. I either instruct them or I give them orders. But I do not talk to social servants."

Randall sighed, "Suit yourself."

"The reason you're behaving the way you are right now, is because..." Simon stopped himself and began again, "Wait... let me start over and phrase this in language a social servant can understand."

As Simon thought of how he would explain what he was trying to say, Randall was fuming with anger at the arrogant and pretentious kid who was put in charge of him.

Simon found his voice, "The reason you're acting the way you are is because you are unhappy with yourself. We see it all the time in the newly indentured."

Randall, as angry as he was, was nevertheless fascinated with the odd and precocious high school kid acting like a seasoned handler. He wondered where Simon got all of his `lines'.

Simon continued, "But fortunately, for you, we have progressed from the `do as I say, or else' days of servant control. My dad still belongs to that school of thought. He still believes that servants should be kept naked all the time. Very old fashioned. But in fact, Randall, things are just the opposite now. What we in the servant control business do now and what I would like to do here today, is to help servants feel better about themselves, to feel happier and to be happier."

"What you lack, Randall, is passion. And it is passion that is going to get you lots of pats on the head from your overseers and free folks. It's a servant's passion for excellence that turns him into an ace. And you, Randall, are already an ace, only you do not know it!"

Randall stared at Simon, speechless, his mouth open in an `O' shape.

Simon stood up and acting like a motivational speaker who was standing before a large crowd, spread his arms in front of him, "The three pillars of passion are self-belief, courage, and perseverance. Each one of us has something unique to give back to the world. But we can only give it back to the world if we are passionate about excellence."

"Now Randall, let me ask you something. How many times have you set a project for yourself and said, "I want to get that done by next week", but when next week comes the project is still untouched? If you're like the rest of us, that's happened more than you would care to remember, right?"

Simon smiled at Randall, expecting him to answer, so Randall, embarrassed, nodded in agreement.

Simon continued, "Now why do you think that happens? Why can't we get things done that we say we want to get done?"

"It's simply that we lack passion for the task before us. So what we need to do is build a pillar on which our passion can thrive and voila; the job gets done. That's all there is to it; the next time you have a job to do and don't want to do it, just believe in yourself, find the courage to get the job done and persevere until the job is completed."

Simon walked a little to the side, as if he were in a large auditorium, put his hands into a new oratorical position and continued, "Now you and I know, Randall, that life isn't always so cut and dried. We all face challenges and trials day in and day out. Both servants and free people. We all have challenges. We're all in this together, folks. Life is not all rainbows and daisies."

Randall wondered if he was in the presence of a madman.

Simon looked directly at Randall, "Maybe you stub your toe, or maybe you lose something valuable, or maybe your overseer is in a bad mood."

Simon brought his hands together, prayer like, in front of his chin, "Randall, let me let you in on a big secret! Are you ready? What I want you to know is that your overseers, guardians, and/or owners, are human too! That's right. They are human just like you. And you know what? Just like you, they sometimes make mistakes; they sometimes don't get things just right."

Randall squirmed, embarrassed for Simon.

Simon took a few steps to the side and continued, "They may, for example, fault you for poor work when in fact you've done your very best. They may call something inadequate when in fact you've paid extra attention to detail."

"And worst of all, you have to face the consequences of their poor judgment and there's nothing you can do but bare your behind and take whatever it is they think you deserve. But you know what? That's a part of social servitude. You aren't alone. Here in little old Cedar Rapids alone there are almost 6000 social servants. And just like the rest of the country, that is roughly 4% of the population. And almost three quarters of the social servants in Cedar Rapids are young men approximately your age. That again matches the national average. And of those 6000 servants, only 1200 of them are lifers, again matching the national average."

"So that means there are 4500 social servants in Cedar Rapids around your age. Boys like you, who have gone through the same kinds of experiences you have; the same frustrations, the same joys, and the same rewards. 4500 boys who, for whatever reason, have surrendered their freedom to join a noble enterprise; social servitude."

Randall continued to stare at Simon, wondering if he should try to call Dean on his cell phone.

"That's 4500 boys just like you, who once were free, and now are not. And like you they have to do as they are told. Like you they get paddled and spanked if their owners/overseers are unhappy with them. And like you doubtless soon will, they have to get their penises locked up from time to time so their overseers can fine tune them."

"But you know what? In survey after survey, the vast majority of social servants express themselves as being happy with their lot. A far greater number of servants, percentage wise, say they are happy and content with their lot than free people say that."

"And those servants who say that they are content with their lot are servants who are passionate! Passionate!"

Simon did an oratorical pause. Randall tried to think of a way he could get Simon to stop his motivation speech.

Simon continued, "I attend a lot of Young Handlers Conferences and one of the things I hear over and over again from my peers is their frustration at finding out that an especially favorite servant of theirs is afraid of them. All such misperceptions, on both the part of servants and their overseers are due to a lack of communication." As Simon continued speaking, Randall got up and started to walk out of the room. Simon stopped his speech and looked at Randall confused.

Randall waved his hand at Simon. "It's okay. You keep going. I can still hear you. I want to get a notepad and pen so I can take notes on what you're saying." Randall noted a surprised and pleased smile on Simon's face and made his way into the kitchen.

Once out of earshot, Randall grabbed a telephone and quickly dialed his brother's cell phone. His brother answered and Randall spoke in a hushed yet rushed voice, "Dean, you've got to get back here. I'm afraid. Simon is a nut. A fucking nut."

Dean was surprised, "What's going on? That's not what people say who know him. And Earl knows him real well. Look, you're probably just imagining things because Simon is younger than you, and, let's face it, quite bright. I'm sure everything is okay. I simply can't miss this meeting. I'm not coming back. Just do what he tells you."

"But Dean, he's loony tunes! He's acting very weird, talking bullshit. He's a fucking fruitcake and I should not have been left here alone with him! I'm scared."

"Randall, you have to stop characterizing your overseers in such a way. That's exactly the way you talk about your overseers at work; that they are all either nuts or else low life, inbred, trash. That is simply your arrogance and that is the kind of thing you need to face, because your perceptions are not reality. It has already been proven. Just listen to what Simon says and I'm sure once you get rid of your prejudices you'll see that Simon has a lot of good things to say."

Randall was frantic, but kept his voice down, "Please Dean. I don't trust the runt. Short, insecure, guys like Simon are nut jobs just waiting to explode."

"Randall, I have to hang up now. I'm about to be introduced to some people. You behave yourself!"

Dean hung up. Randall, frustrated, found a notepad and pen, and made his way back into the living room. In the living room Simon was kneeling on the floor digging into his open trainer's case.

Simon had an expressionless look on his face. As he dug through his trainer's case he spoke to Randall, without looking at him, "I want to see what you look like naked. Take off your clothes!" Randall wondered why Simon wasn't continuing his motivational speech, "Dude, what's wrong? Why aren't you continuing your speech?"

"Take all of your clothes off now. I like to look at naked slaves."

Randall remained calm despite his fears, "Look man. I think you misunderstood my brother. You are supposed to be talking to me, or rather, instructing me in the basics of service protocol."

Simon nodded and looked at Randall, "Very good. First bit of protocol; you do exactly as your controlling overseer orders and right now I am your controlling overseer. You do as your overseer orders each and every time and in a summary fashion. Now I'm ordering you to take off all of your clothes!"

Randall was not about to be bossed around by a high school kid, "No way, Jose!"

Dean took a folded `personnel clutch' out of his trainers case, extended it to its full five foot length, lunged at Randall with it, grabbed him, along with one of his arms around the mid-waist, squeezed the handles of the clutch shut and locked them.

A personnel clutch is a device that holds a servant at bay within two large closable jaws and allows a handler to gain full controlling leverage over servants who are much larger than the person controlling the clutch.

Having Randall locked in the jaws of the clutch, Simon was easily able to maneuver Randall around to the middle of the room, which he did just in order to show Randall how easy it was for him to control him. Randall's face showed his terror and Simon's showed his pleasure in having Randall in his clutch.

Simon relished his position over Randall and spoke calmly as he held up a cell phone for Randall to see. "I can call the police and have them come over here and take your clothes off, or you can do it yourself. If the police have to answer a social servant call, that is an automatic five demerit points on your state record. Not good! What's it going to be?"

Simon's self-satisfied smile was hard for Randall to bear, but he knew that Simon had him. He could not risk involving the police. Randall shook his head in defeat and Simon unlocked him from the personnel clutch.

Randall knelt on the floor and unbuckled his sandals, then stood up and kicked them off. He slowly unzipped his jumpsuit as Simon put his cell phone back in his pocket.

Once bare, Randall put his hands in front of his genitals. Simon instructed him, "Hands at your sides, Junior!" Randall did as instructed. Simon then commanded, "Walk over here and stand in front of me so I can feel you up."

As Randall walked towards Simon, Simon once again smiled his broad schoolboy smile that scrunched up his nose and revealed his teeth.

Simon put a hand on top of Randall's bald head and ran it down to his shoulders. Next he grasped Randall's biceps, elbows, and forearms, squeezing and feeling the mass of each part. Then he spun Randall around and ran his hand along Randall's back and along both buttocks. He spun Randall around again and examined his penis and his balls. He continued running his hand down Randall's legs, grasping folds of flesh on the inside and outside of the full length of Randall's legs.

There was Randall, the naked slave, being felt up by a short, dark haired, high school junior with a big smile on his face. When Simon had finished feeling Randall up, he went to his trainer's case and selected a leash on a recoiler and a training whip. As he approached Randall, Randall was scared. "Please, Simon. What are you going to do?"

Simon snapped the leash to Randall's genital choke cinch. Simon showed Randall the whip. "Do exactly as I say, because if you don't I'll have to use this training whip. Slaves tell me that a stroke of this `trainer' feels like a grease burn."

Simon walked away from Randall about five feet, uncoiling the leash as he walked. He stood and looked at Randall at the end of the leash. Simon did nothing but stare and smile. Randall, nervous and scared, sweated. In a sudden move Simon yanked on the leash, causing the cinch to choke the base of Randall's cock and balls. Randall let out a terrified scream. The choke cinch started to release itself after a couple of seconds. Simon explained, "That `s what will happen to you if you try to get away from me."

Simon enjoyed having the naked Randall on a leash. He relished Randall's fear and taunted him. "Your brother told me that you used to be a hotshot. You used to get all dressed up and enjoyed impressing everyone. Looking at you now I find it hard to believe that you ever could impress anyone, naked boy!"

Randall spoke timidly, "I was looking forward to hearing more of what you have to say. Why are you not continuing your speech?"

Simon smirked, "Oh, really? That isn't what I heard you tell your brother. What I heard you tell him was that I was a fucking runt who was talking bullshit!"

Randall trembled, "Oh no. That isn't what I said. You didn't hear correctly. What I said was..."

Simon interrupted Randall, "What you said was that I was a nut job waiting to explode." Simon did an angry smile and held up his training whip menacingly, "Well maybe it's time for me to just go ahead and explode!"

Randall stood, frozen in fear. Simon approached him, the leash in one hand, and the whip in the other. He put his face to Randall's ear. "You little jack shit faggot! No fucking slave calls me names! I will not be mocked by some a fucking loser in a yellow rehab jumpsuit!"

Simon put his whip in the same hand he held the leash, and with his free hand reached to his crotch and rubbed the outline of his cock. "I know all about you, Randall, and you're a loser through and through. Laughable. I can tell you that the `Stage One' program isn't going to work for you. You will end up in the Total Reform Program and from there you will graduate to lifer status. I know it. I've seen it happen often enough with boys like you. You don't have what it takes to be a free boy!"

Simon was getting sadistically excited and Randall was never more frightened in his entire life. Simon curled his upper lip in a nasty snarl. "Kneel down on the floor, on all fours, like a puppy dog!"

Randall knelt, swallowing in fear, "Please, Simon."

Simon licked his curled lip with his tongue, "Stick that ass up as high as you can get it. Go on, stick it up nice and high just like you're some bitch begging her man to take her from the rear!"

Randall tried to raise his ass and stick it out as far as he could, but when he started crying he lost his pose. Simon touched his ass with the whip, "Come on, get it back in position!"

Randall got his ass back in position and Simon reveled in the view beneath him. He swung the whip with all his might and sliced Randall's ass. Randall screamed long, high, and hard. When he fell to the floor in agony, Simon did an extreme pull on the leash, which caused Randall's cinch to tighten sharply. Randall screamed again at the pinched flesh and Simon kept tugging at the leash, "Back in position, or I'll tighten it some more!"

Randall, in pain, scrambled to get back in position with his ass sticking out high. Simon whipped him again and again Randall fell to the floor screaming. Simon tugged again on the leash, only this time did not wait for Randall to get back into position on all fours; instead he just started whipping Randall repeatedly wherever the whip landed: on his ass, legs, thighs, back, and shoulders.

As Simon swung the whip, he swore out loud, "Gawwdammn worthless slaves like you should be tortured. You're no better than filth." As Simon wildly whipped Randall, Randall screamed and pleaded for mercy.

Simon shouted, "When I finish giving you what you deserve, I'm then going to find out how fancy pants boys like you suck cock! But first I'm going to make sure you find out how this trainer whip feels on your chest!"

As Randall cringed on the floor and screamed for help with all of his strength, he was unaware that Dean, unnoticed, had just entered the room and had grabbed Simon's whipping arm. "What in the hell's going on?"

Simon immediately stood at attention, poised himself, and spoke like a cadet would to his officer. "Mr. Inslee, sir, he was disrespectful, sir. Sir, I was only doing my duty, sir!"

Randall scrambled on his hands and knees as fast as he could to a corner of the room, pulling the leash attached to his genital cinch behind him as he scrambled.

Simon spoke as if nothing untoward had happened. "Mr. Inslee, sir, I have completed Randall's punishment sir. Would you like me stay and continue with Randall's training?"

To Be Continued...

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