Boi Shorts
Chapter 2
“What’s your name, boy?” she asked me, and a small but terrified voice in my brain screamed at me don’t give her your real name say anything but your real name this is bad, this is really bad and you’ve got to get out of here.
“Mark,” I said without thinking.
“Good boy. Are you gay, Mark?”
“No, I’m not gay.”
“Have you ever kissed a man, Mark?”
“No, never.”
She stared at me, that shit-eating grin on her face seeming to notch up a bit, as if she’d caught me in a lie. But I’d told her the truth—almost as if I couldn’t lie to her even if I wanted to. But I’d never kissed a guy, never touched a guy, never even thought about it.
And that’s when I realized why she was smirking at me. My cock was hard again. Not just hard, but rock hard, and pulsing. I could see it swelling as the blood coursed into the shaft and up to the head. What the hell was happening here? Kissing guys doesn’t turn me on. Why am I still standing here naked and hard in front of this woman inside a store in the middle of the day? Why am I not getting dressed and getting the hell out of here? Why am I not doing anything at all except waiting for her to tell me what to do?
“Not gay, boy? You seem like a gay boy to me, coming into my gay shop in a gay part of town to buy some very gay underwear, and then to put on quite a show for some very gay men on the sidewalk. You sure you’re not a gay boy?”
“I’m... I…,” I stuttered, and ran out of words. My brain was trying to work but stalling out on me. This sexy woman should be giving me a hardon, but every time I thought about my cock, I pictured the guy on the sidewalk and wondered what his cock looked like, tasted like, and what it would feel like to have it inside me. What was happening?
“Go put on your boi shorts,” she said, and I got the underwear and pulled them up, taking some time to get my hard cock into the small pouch in front. I could barely fit, and catching my reflection in the mirror, I realized that my cock looked enormous in the boxer briefs. And my heart raced as I realized how much I loved it, how deeply I wanted to flaunt my bulge, and as soon as I thought of the date I had tonight and my hopes of ending up in bed with a beautiful woman, the thought flickered away, replaced by a thought of slowly pulling down by boi shorts and revealing my hard cock to a man.
“Yes, boy, you’re starting to get it, aren’t you?”
Her green eyes flashed as we made eye contact. I couldn’t tear myself away from those eyes, as if they were looking deep inside me, taking me, resetting me, and reformatting me for her own purposes. The small voice in my mind was hard to hear now, but it was screaming at me to look away, to blink, to scream. It was telling me it might already be too late, but I had to act. It was telling me all sorts of things that I knew were true, but found myself, as I stared deeply into those green eyes, caring less and less about. And then I couldn’t hear it at all.
“Why are you here, boy?”
“I came to buy underwear for a date,” I said.
“And this date,” she said, smiling at me. “You want to look sexy. You’re hoping to get laid, aren’t you boy?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Say ‘yes, ma’am’ when you answer me, boy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. And as the words spilled out of my mouth, I felt a wave of warmth spread through my body. It felt good to show her respect. It felt so good to submit to her. I found myself no longer thinking about how none of this made sense, that I needed to run, that obviously I wasn’t gay, and started thinking about how nice it was to say “ma’am,” how natural it felt, how right. I noticed that I was getting hard again.
And she noticed it, too.
“Ah, now that’s a very good boy. Tell me, what are you thinking as you get hard in front of me?”
“Ma’am?”
“Tell me exactly what you’re thinking right now boy.”
“I’m… I’m… I’m thinking that I want to be a good boy.”
She smiled, and her eyes lit up in a way that should have scared me, but somehow didn’t. “Now that’s just what I wanted to hear. You see, my store does a very good business and I’ve become a very rich woman. And one of the things that makes my store special is our customer service. We treat each man who shops here with a level of service they can’t find anywhere else. Do you understand, boy?”
“I think so, ma’am,” I said, noticing again how my cock pulsed when I said the word “ma’am” out loud.
“I helped you, didn’t I?”
“You did, ma’am.”
“How did I help you, boy?”
“You helped me find the boi shorts, ma’am.”
“Yes, I did do that, but that’s not the service I provided you. What I did for you, boy, is to help you discover who you really are. That’s the service you couldn’t have found anywhere else. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy. Now tell me, who are you?”
“I’m Mark?”
“Yes, and what does Mark like more than anything else?”
I had a feeling of what she expected me to say, but I couldn’t. And yet, again, my body betrayed me, my cock growing even harder, beginning to push past the waistband of my boi shorts, exposing the tip, and a bubble of precum oozing from the tip.
“Yes,” she said, looking at my cock. “Yes, you want to say it, so say it, boy. Say what it is that you want more than anything else. Your body is craving it right now, and as soon as you tell me, I’ll make sure that you get exactly what it is you need. So tell me, boy, what is it that you desire?”
“Cock, ma’am,” I said instantly, surprising myself even as the adrenaline and arousal flowed through my body, all resistance washing away, my cock throbbing as I said it out loud.
“Yes, that’s a very good boy. You love cock. You live to serve cock. It’s the only thing that matters to you, boy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and somewhere in the back of my brain, I felt a lock snap shut, as if I’d just taken a step and could never go back to what I was before, not even an hour ago. Everything had changed. I didn’t know how, or why, but here I was, standing in a store wearing nothing but these boi shorts, and so erect that they couldn’t contain the size of my cock, which had become hungry—for cock.
I closed my eyes and grabbed my cock in my hand, moaning softly as I began to stroke.
“STOP.”
My eyes flew open and I stopped stroking, and stood there in front of her. I found that I was terrified of making her angry.
“Take your hand off that cock right now, boy.”
And I did.
“You do not touch that cock unless I tell you to, do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. You won’t get another warning. Now pull your shorts up and get ready. The next man to walk into this store is about to experience just what you can do. How very good you are at making men feel good. Now keep your cock in your pants and go stand in the front of the store. When men walk by, smile at them. Your job is to make every man who enters this store feel like the sexiest man on Earth, do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now go up front and get me some shoppers in this store.”
And so, I did. I walked up to the windows facing the street—the same windows where people walking by had seen me climaxing—and stood there. It didn’t feel wrong at all to be in the window wearing just my underwear, and with a very visible erection, even though I’d managed to coax it back into the boi shorts—just barely. And anyone who looked closely would see the wet spot.
It was a very strange experience to be watching people on the sidewalk, and instead of my brain searching for sexy women, I was scanning for hot guys. I’d never even thought of what a ‘hot guy’ would be before, but here I was, searching. I noticed a few people checking me out, including a few women who smirked at what I’m sure they figured was a gay guy, but I didn’t care. I had a job to do.
The sidewalk was busy, and there were plenty of guys. Every now and then I’d see a man and my body would get a jolt, a little electrical charge that told me he’s hot. It was so strange—and thrilling—to realize I was looking at men and getting horny, thinking about which one was sexiest, which one I’d like to have walk into the store, which one I’d like to see naked.
And then I saw a guy slow down outside the window. He’d taken a good, long look at my boi shorts and then looked up and caught my eye. And he smiled. My heart started racing. I smiled back, and he seemed to make a quick decision, looking at his watch and then walking to the door.
He pulled the door open with a grin on his face and walked up to me. He was about my age, though I’m not great at guessing how old other guys are. Blond hair, blue eyes, just a bit taller than me and very fit. He was wearing jeans and dress shoes, and a powder blue dress shirt with a skinny tie that was loose around the collar. He sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a way that gave him the look of a professional guy who didn’t take himself too seriously. If I had to say, I would’ve said maybe he was my type? It felt very weird to say that, even in my own head. My type. Of man.
“Hi,” he said, and my heartbeat stuttered as I found myself loving his voice. Youthful, masculine, friendly.
“Hi,” I said. “Welcome. How can I help you?”
I looked over to her, and she nodded at me, in a way that said good. Keep going.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he said. “I wasn’t really planning to go shopping, but you looked so cute I thought I’d come in and say hello.”
“I’m glad you did,” I said, and I meant it. I really, sincerely meant it. “If there’s something you’d like to take a look at, I’d be happy to show you.” I realized as I said it that I was being intentionally suggestive, and I found it thrilling. I felt my cock swell again in my underwear and wondered if he noticed.
“What’s good? Any recommendations,” he asked, and damn if he wasn’t being suggestive right back. I’d never fallen into flirting this fast with a woman, and I wondered why I’d spent so much time trying to catch a woman’s eye, and spending so much emotional energy to figure out how to talk to her, when here I was clicking with a guy within 30 seconds.
“Well, these boxers are one of our top sellers,” I said, as if I’d been working in the store for ages and knew all of the inventory. I didn’t have a clue about the store, but I knew instantly what I was trying to sell him. Me.
“Well,” he said, letting his gaze drop to my crotch. He let his eyes linger there, and I got a chill. I’d never felt this sexy in my entire life. “They sure do look good on you.”
She stepped up beside us and began talking about me as if I was a mannequin, telling him how the boi shorts were designed, how the cut of the seams lifted my package and pushed it forward. As she spoke, she ran her finger along the seam, from my thigh inside and under my balls, and then softly forward, running right up the underside of my cock.
“The result,” she said, “I think you’ll agree, is quite flattering.”
He smiled. “It is. Very impressive.”
“And they come in a variety of colors and patterns, which my boy would be happy to show you or model for you.”
“Oh,” he said, “well that would be wonderful, actually.”
“Would you like to try some on, or have my boy show you?”
“I’d like to enjoy this sexy model,” if that’s okay.
“Oh, it is more than okay. He’s here to serve. Please, come with me.”
She turned, and he followed, giving me a glance back to make sure I was walking with him. She led us to the back of the store and behind a curtain, which revealed a small room with mirrors and a kind of runway. In front was a pair of club chairs, and she invited him to sit down.
He got comfortable, the smile never leaving his face. And she raised her chin, telling me to get up on the runway. “Now walk for our guest so he can see how the boi shorts look from all angles.”
Again, I felt that this was something that should have felt ridiculous, or wrong. But it didn’t. It felt amazing. I wanted to show off for him, and I felt dead sexy doing it. I walked to the end of the runway, turned around and met his eyes, smiling and softly running my hands around my boxer briefs, showing them off. And then I started walking, slowly, loving the sensation of him watching me, and maybe, just maybe, wanting me.
“Now let’s see how that tight ass of yours looks, boy,” she said, and I turned around and walked slowly back.
“Very nice,” I heard him say, softly, and it made my cock swell.
“Boy, why don’t you give our guest your boi shorts so he can examine the quality of our materials and design,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and caught his eye again as I put my hands on the waist band and slowly pulled the boxers down, revealing my cock which quickly returned to its full size, pulsing. My body shook with the thrill of standing before him nude and aroused, fully erect for a sexy man, soaking up the way he watched me. I swallowed, thinking I might pass out from the adrenaline coursing through my body, and then walked to him, stepping down from the runway and handing him my underwear.
He took it and smiled. “Thank you,” he said, his hand lingering as we touched. I had to suppress a moan. He eyes again dropped to my cock and I looked down at it as well, watching as a large bubble of precum oozed from the tip, paused, and then spilled over, hanging from my cock right in front of him before falling to my feet. “Very, very nice,” he said.
“Now, I hope you’ll forgive my boy,” she said. “He’s new and I’m still training him. Would you like him to model another color? I find these boi shorts look lovely with a nice thick collar.”
He turned quickly to her. “Oh, well, yes, I’d like to see that.”
“One moment.” She slipped through the curtain and was gone. I just stood there, oozing in front of him, and he made no move to sit back or stop staring. Had she really turned me gay? What else could explain me standing here like this, and feeling so sexy and aroused, wanting more? What else could it possibly be?
“Here we are,” she said as she walked back into the room carrying a thick leather collar with a silver ring attached at the front, a silver buckle in the back and the word FAGGOT wrapping around the collar in huge pink letters. I stared at as she wrapped it around my neck and buckled it. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn’t believe what I saw. That word. Was that what I was? Had she changed me?
Looking at myself, nude, hard and wearing the FAGGOT collar I realized how good it made me feel, being exposed, being hard in public, being labeled as a faggot, a word I’d never spoken in my entire life and up until an hour ago would have called a disgusting slur. Now it felt like, well, me.
“What do you think? Would you like to see the collar with the boi shorts on,” she asked, pausing in a suggestive way. “Or perhaps not. I don’t want this boy putting wet spots in any more merchandise.”
“No,” he said, that’s quite alright. I think the collar looks wonderful. Very sexy.”
“Well, then you simply must see one more thing,” she said, and I turned to her, wondering what was about to happen. “You just have to see how lovely the collar looks when a boy’s on his knees.”
Oh my God, I thought, what is happening? But I didn’t want it to stop. Not at all.
“Come, boy, kneel for the gentleman.”
And I did. I slowly dropped to my knees directly in front of him, and without being told, I dropped my head into a submissive bow. My cock pulsed when he raised his hand to my chin and softly raised my head, looking deeply into my eyes.
“Yes, he’s absolutely beautiful,” he said.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy him. Take all the time you need.” And she quietly disappeared through the curtains, leaving me kneeling, my cock pulsing and wet, as he gazed into my eyes.
I didn’t know it at the time, but in the front of the store she sat behind a counter, quietly going through my wallet, taking out my driver’s license and credit cards, my work ID and my business cards. Every now and then she would look away, just below the counter and out of sight of customers, at a bank of security cameras, including one capturing the customer and me in the back room. On the small screen, she watched as he leaned forward and kissed me, our mouths opening into a deep, passionate kiss.
She smiled, and then looked back at my work ID. “They must be wondering where you are, boy,” she said to herself, and picked up her cell phone. Looking at my business card, she dialed the number and waited for it to ring. After the third ring, the call was answered. She listened for a moment. “Yes, thank you, I’m hoping you can help. It’s about one of your employees.”
On the screen under the counter, she watched as I took the man’s cock into my mouth, his gorgeous thick cock slowly sinking into my throat as he reclined in the club chair, his hands on my head, pulling me onto him.
“Yes, thank you,” she said. “I thought there was something you should know.”