The Metal Box
May 23rd, 1993 — Manhattan, New York City
Twenty-two year old James Hurst had no idea why he’d been called to the company Vice President’s office. It was the end of the day on a Friday and the request had come via a last minute, high-priority email. He was supposed to meet his buddies at the West Side YMCA for some basketball—he’d been on a Division I team until last year and he tried to continue to play at an elite level.
He took the elevator up to the 24th floor—the executive level. Walking through the open floor plan James was surprised to see most of the office staff had gone home, including Banfield’s assistant. He approached the VP’s door slowly; he’d only met the man once, when he’d started work as a Junior Analyst few weeks ago.
He stopped at the door and knocked on the doorframe. Banfield, dressed in a blue shirt and tie, was seated at his desk reading from a file folder. The desk was covered in papers, but in the middle was a small metal box, with a white plastic half-bulb on the front. The VP looked up at the knock.
“You sent for me Mr. Banfield?,”
“Ah, yes, James, come in and sit down. Close the door behind you.” James did as he was asked and sat down in the seat in front of Banfield’s desk.
Banfield threw down the file folder and looked at him evenly across the desk, saying nothing, which unnerved James. Banfield was in his late thirties, black hair with a just a touch of gray, blue eyes and hawk-like nose.
“So James, are you seated comfortably?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” What an odd question.
“Good,” the older man replied, “Now please take a look at this.” And he reached out and touched the top of the metal box.
The white plastic bulb on the box turned red, then blue, then green. James heard a kind of a whooshing sound, that quickly became rhythmic, like the sound of ocean waves on the shore. The light was fascinating. It started to pulse, and... spin? Was that even possible? It doesn’t matter, thought James. It’s beautiful.
He felt himself slump down in the chair, felt his whole body relax and his head tilt to one side. Part of his mind was shouting at him, telling that something was very wrong and that he needed to leave, leave right now. But in seconds that part became silent as the lights pulsed and spun, as the gentle waves soothed him. He started to drool, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the light, the beautiful light. His eyes remained open, unblinking.
“Now James,” said Banfield. “Listen closely...”
That night just before eight, with daylight fading, James walked up 1st Avenue on the upper east side. He was wearing jeans and a short-sleeve polo shirt. It was summer in the city and the day had been hot and humid, but now the city’s concrete canyons were cooling with the graying light of dusk. He hardly ever came to the upper east side and he didn’t know why he was there now. It just seemed like the thing to do.
James stopped at an apartment building just north of 89th Street, and gave his name to the doorman, as instructed. (As instructed?) He took the elevator to the 34th floor, walked down the hall, stopped at apartment 34D, and knocked.
Banfield opened the door—it’s so good to see him. “Come in, James. I’m glad you came.”
James crossed the threshold into the apartment, into a nice living with a cream-colored couch and beige carpet. Banfield was wearing blue dress slacks and the same blue button down shirt from work, but had removed his jacket and tie. “Let me just get this,” he said and closed the door. Then he turned to face James.
He smiled, with a kind of feral amusement, and reached out laid his palm on James’ chest. Banfield looked James up and down like a piece of meat, like an object, a thing.
James cock started to get hard.
Wait, what? He’d never thought about sex with a man; he knew some guys hated gays, but James didn’t—he’d just never given it much thought.
Now, though... I like this.
Banfield’s hand slid down to James’ crotch, where it found James’ burgeoning erection. Banfield massaged him through his jeans, and with his other hand gripped his own cock through his slacks. “Kiss me, James,” he said. His voice had an edge now, that changed to a purr. “Kiss Daddy.”
And so he did—James leaned in, parted his lips, and kissed Banfield. He let the tip of his tongue drift out of his mouth and Banfield returned the kiss, his tongue intertwining with the young man’s. Banfield took James’ hand and placed it on his slacks. James felt Banfield’s huge erection through the fabric.
Another man’s cock. Yess...
The two men kissed and massaged each other for a minute, and then Banfield pushed him away.
“On your knees,” he said.
“Yes, Sir.”
He dropped to the carpet and looked up expectantly; the VP smiled down. “Take out your cock.”
This is so hot, James thought, and smiled dreamily. With his eyes locked on his boss, James reached down and unbuckled his own belt. He unbuttoned his jeans, zipped down his fly, and then shoved his jeans to mid-thigh. His cock sprang free, as hard it had ever been. Why didn’t I do this before?
“Mmmm,” said Banfield as he massaged himself through his slacks. “Circumcised. Pretty big, nice blonde pubes. And so hard. You want a real man to take you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said James.
“Now take out my cock,” he said. “Service Daddy.”
“Yes, Daddy.” It was so wrong to say that, so naughty. So right.
James reached up with two hands and undid Banfield’s slacks, and then pulled down the zipper. He reached in and the older man’s large cock popped free and outside his pants. It was the first time James had seen an erect cock other than his own. It was huge—seven inches long, much wider than James’ own, veiny and with a shiny almost purple mushroom head. James stared at it and then reached up and gently stroked it.
“Suck it, don’t pet it,” said Banfield.
He opened his mouth and took the older man’s cock into his mouth — my first cock. He tasted the salty dab of Banfield’s pre-cum, and then his lips slid around the bulbous cockhead and down the veiny shaft. The skin was soft on the surface, but rock-hard underneath; the scent of man, of cock and balls, filled his nose.
Oh, God, this is wonderful. I never knew.
James’ didn’t look up, he just began to work the older man’s cock, blowing him the way he would want to be. He pursed his lips into an oval to keep his teeth away, and made his tongue flat; he felt the bottom of the cock rub along his taste buds and then the top of his tongue. He moved back and forth, back and forth. He couldn’t take the whole thing in, but he made three quarters of it wet and slimy, sliding in and out, back and forth, letting that giant cockhead rhythmically hit the back of his throat.
“Ahh,” groaned Banfield, and grabbed the side of James’ head, moving his hands with James’ rhythm. “So good.... uhhh...” Abruptly he made James stop. James looked up into Banfield’s blue eyes. The executive pulled his cock out of James’ mouth, and then slowly rubbed it across James’ face. It was so erotic, so dominant...
“You’re mine,” said Banfield.
“I’m yours,” said James, looking up adoringly as that magnificent cock slathered across his cheeks and mouth.
“Follow me,” said the older man, and turned walked away. James yanked up his jeans, and holding them up, awkwardly walked quickly after his boss. They walked down a brightly lit hallway and in what apparently was the master bedroom. It held a king-size bed with no blanket on it, just a fitted sheet and some pillows.
Banfield turned to him and started unbuttoning his own shirt. “Undress,” he said. “Let me see your body.”
James kicked off his shoes, pulled his shirt off, dropped his jeans and stepped out of them, kicked off his shoes, and then one by one removed his socks. When he looked up Banfield was naked. The VP was in good shape for his age, with only the slightest of love handles and a narrow waste. A patch of black hair matted his chest and tapered down to his pubic area and prodigious cock. His arms were slightly muscled, not flabby.
Banfield stepped forward and placed his palm on James’ abdomen. “Look at those muscles,” he said. “An athlete. So young, so strong...” his hand wandered down to James’ cock again, this time encircling it and gently stroking it. “So hard...”
“I’m going to...come..,” said James, trembling as electric jolts of pleasure coursed through him, taking him close to the edge.
“No you’re not,” said Banfield, smiling and letting go of James’ member. “At least not yet.” He spun James around by the shoulders and pushed him, face forward, on to the bed.
Yes.. oh, yesss... James new what was about to happen. He wanted it. He got up on all fours, then turned his head and lowered his cheek to the mattress. He propped his upper body up on his elbows, spread his knees wide, arched his back, and presented himself to Mr. Banfield.
“Do it,” he said happily. “Fuck my ass.”
Mr. Banfield moved behind him and James heard a squishing sound he didn’t recognize, until he realized the man was lubing his cock. The bed creaked with the older mans’ weight and James felt that bulbous head at his entrance, a moment of pressure, and the older man’s cock popped in.
It was so filling, and surprisingly not that painful — just a little bit. But the erotic nature of it overwhelmed that. I’m being taken...
Mr. Banfield began to fuck him, moving back and forth slightly at first, just an inch or two. James found himself offering encouragement. “Yes, Daddy, like that, do it. I’m yours. Oh, God...”
“Damn, right,” said the principal in a growling voice. “Walking down the halls in those tight slacks, you fucking tease... ”
“Yes, I was a tease.... sorry... this is so good...”
The dominant man’s strokes got longer as James’ ass opened up and the lube worked its magic. James started to move against him, to meet his strokes, which became longer, deeper. “You fucking whore,” said the older man. “You love this.”
“Yes,” said James, believing it, knowing it was true. He loved it—was a whore for cock, he’d just never realized it.
He was getting pounded now, deep, and it was wonderful. “Going to...come...” said the older man. James felt Banfield’s cock swell.
“Yes,” said James happily, panting, thrusting back harder. “Breed me.”
Mr. Banfield thrust forward and stopped, gripping James’ hips. “Ahhh! Ahhhaaa!” James felt the older man’s cock twitch and spurt inside him, filling him with his seed, claiming him. Owning him.
Mr. Banfield stopped and just bent over James for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he slowly pulled out. James turned over on has back and looked up at the man who’d taken his cherry; James’ rock-hard cock flopped against his abdomen.
“Sit up,’ said the Principal heavily. “On the edge of the bed.” James slide down and then sat up on the bed’s edge, his legs splayed and his cock standing straight up. “Stroke yourself. Tell me what you are.”
James looked up at the older man. He leaned back and braced himself on the bed with one hand and began to masturbate with the other; his cock was slick with his own precum.
“I’m a whore,” he said lazily, with a smile, as he jerked off. “You own me. I’ll do anything you want.” He stopped for a second and gripped his cock, not wanting to come yet, then slowly started again. “You can get a bunch of strange men here and I’ll suck their cocks and then they can take turns with me.” He stared deep into Banfield’s glowing eyes and his hand went faster; he couldn’t help it. “You can bring anyone. Black guys. Men from work. Anyone. No more girls, only men... only obeying you... being your bitch... on my hands and knees... cocks in my mouth, in my ass. Using me. Oh, God, fucking me!... Cocks fucking me!”
James’ balls clenched. “Uhh... ahhh!” he cried, and then he came with the most mind-shattering orgasm he’d ever had, sending his seed into air. It shot over his head and then in spurts it landed on his face and chest. His eyes never left Mr. Banfield’s.
As James panted and recovered from his orgasm, the older man looked down at him with a wicked grin. “Now,” he said. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”
Suburban New Jersey, just outside New York City, the next day
Fifty year old Daniel Hurst returned from his golf game late Saturday afternoon. He’d done well, shooting a ninety-four, and was in a good mood. When he’d left in the morning his wife Daphne had been planning dinner; he was looking forward to it. His daughter Sally was home for the weekend from Amherst for the first time in months and his son James had promised him that he’d come in from the city for a family dinner.
Daniel parked his blue BMW in the garage and went through its interior door into the kitchen. James was sitting at the kitchen counter wearing blue sweat pants and a white tee shirt, reading something. There was a small metal box on the counter in front of him.
“Hey son,” said Daniel. “Nice to you see. Where’s your Mom and Sally?”
James looked up and smiled. “They left a note, they’re out shopping.”
“Oh, well how was your week?”
“Doesn’t matter. Take a look at this.” He tapped the top of the box.
Colors blossomed from the white bulb on the front of the box. Daniel’s head felt light and his knees buckled, but James stepped forward and caught him under his arms.
“Sorry,” said James. “I forgot to make sure you were sitting down.”
Daniel heard him as if from a distance, like a sound on the wind. His eyes never left the spinning lights and even as James lowered him to the floor Daniel’s world disappeared in a blossoming cloud of rainbow colors…
Ten minutes later Daniel sat on a stool at the kitchen counter working with his laptop computer; James stood beside him with his hand on his father’s shoulder. Daniel tapped some keys and clicked on a final confirmation button. He turned on the stool to face his son.
“There,” he said, with a smile. “The 401k and savings accounts are transferred to John Banfield at the account number you gave me.”
“Wonderful,” James replied. “Now for your reward.” Daniel slid off the stool and dropped to his knees in front of his son.
“Get me hard,” said James.
“Of course,” said Daniel. He reached up with both hands pulled James’ sweat pants down to his knees. His son’s pale-white hardening cock sprang forward. “But you’re halfway there already, son.” He took James’ cock in one hand and slipped it into his mouth. His head moved back and forth and he moaned, enjoying giving his first blowjob as his progeny’s cock slid in and out of his mouth.
“Uhh,” said James, his cock growing harder. “You’re good at that. His father pulled James’ saliva-coated member from his mouth; he smiled up at his son and stroked him. “Thank you for doing this to me James,” he said happily. “For changing me, enslaving me. It’s so freeing; it makes me so happy and horny. When Mr. Banfield gets here we can blow him together.” James’ breathing became faster with those words, and Daniel quickened his strokes in response. “Do you want that?” James nodded, breathing even harder; Daniel made his strokes faster yet. “You want to suck cocks with Daddy?” James nodded again.
“We’ll do that,” his father said, his eyes locked on his son, his hand became a blur. “Whoever Mr. Banfield says or we’ll find men ourselves, in bars or porn theaters.”
“Yes, that’s so hot,” said James. “We’ll let them use us.”
“Yeah,” continued Daniel. “We’ll get down on the floor, hands and knees, side by side, and let them fuck us.”
“Ahh,’ said James, the imagery pushing him over the edge. “Ahhhaa!” And his cock spurted multiple ropy strands of white cum across his father’s face. When James orgasm shuddered to an end Daniel used his son’s still-hard cock to wipe the cum across his cheeks and mouth.
“Mmm,” said Daniel. “Good.”
“WHAT THE HELL!” Daniel heard a shout, and turned to see his wife and daughter standing in the doorway, their arms full of shopping bags. James quickly reached out to the counter, spun the box around to face the women, and pushed the button...