Lens - Chapter 1

[criggums]

LENS ? CHAPTER 1

He was 48, he was a hot daddy, and he knew it. But not hot enough, to his way of thinking. Not big enough. Not powerful enough. Not the epitome of maleness that he considered necessary to say he had achieved his goals. No matter how hard he trained, monitored his diet, or hit the juice, he couldn't seem to get past a plateau.

And that both irritated and motivated him. It made him angry that he wasn't able to coerce his body any further along the path of development he felt destined to take, but for some reason, couldn't. Yet he kept at it doggedly. Although he maintained what he had achieved, he couldn't add that extra inch to his chest, or get the extra belly fat to fall away.

Not that his boys seemed to mind or care. He never lacked for the worship and attention of a younger man, kneeling naked between his booted feet, looking up in awe at his thick muscled chest, slabs of deltoid and triceps, or huge biceps while he enjoyed a good cigar and glass of bourbon, barking orders to lick his leather clean, edge his cock for hours at a time, suck the meaty nipples crowning each brutus-like pec, sniff and lick his naturally musky pits, or brush their comparatively tiny fingers through his trim brown beard. To them he was a god and they treated him as such.

But it wasn't enough. He was dissatisfied and wanted more. And inside him was an almost insane preoccupation with growing bigger, getting hotter, and being more of a god than his puny acolytes could imagine. He wanted no doubt when he walked into a room who the alpha male was, and he felt it was his right to be able to compel any man he wanted to serve him in whatever manner he commanded.

In the gym five days a week, knowing he would be there seven if he hadn't learned the hard lesson of how important rest days were, he knew he was putting in far more than the other men around him. He poured sweat. He tacked on the extra reps and sets and weight. He followed form and altered training styles. He knew he was doing far more than simply "lifting" - but for all his effort, his body wouldn't respond further. He stayed at what was his peak level of development and conditioning, but couldn't progress beyond that.

His proficiency as a top leather muscle daddy was well known and respected in his community, and he had more boys wanting on his cock than he could ever hope to get around to, so when he fell into bouts of self-recrimination for not being able to grow bigger and develop himself further, he countered with the fact that he was overrun with admiring worshippers as it was - how would pushing his body further into the realm of an uncontested muscle god improve what was already an incredibly good situation?

At first he couldn't answer that, but he knew that there were reasons. Something he couldn't articulate. As if there was buried inside him a man who had not yet fully emerged and continued demanding and pursuing to claim his full potential. He knew he wouldn't be satisfied until he had achieved that goal, or died trying.

So he kept at it. It wasn't an altogether unfillfing life, as he well knew. His sexual needs and egotistical requirements were catered to constantly by a cadre of handpicked men (his "boys") whom he had trained to his exact tastes. Each knew well the basic ritual of coming to him in the late evening to find him in his leather chair, cigar in his mouth, dressed in one of his favorite leather pieces, and one of his favorite caps or hats, waiting until they had stripped and assumed their "first position" prostrate between his boots. After that, the session could go anywhere, depending on his mood and how well his workout had been that day.

On frustrating days, he was more likely to redirect his displeasure onto the boy, with his riding crop or flogger, stringing him up between chains hooked into the ceiling of the garage where he "played" with them. Seeing the red welts appear on a boy's smooth ass or pec gave him a sense of satisfaction and control, and further reinforced in the boy's mind who was in control. Inflicting just a bit of pain via their sensitive red nips with his rough beard or between his teach, or an out-and-out "whack" of the crop, brought a yelp from the boy and a feeling of ownership which he very much got off on.

Other times he was more melancholy, more nurturing, treating the boy to a long slow encounter with his cock, encouraging him with grunts, moans, and verbal commands to service it in a specific manner. Looking down upon his hungry, worshiping cocksucker who would frequently reach of with trembling hands to caress his broad chest and try to feel the expanse of his upper arms or forearms. He would smile down at the boy, knowing how needy he was for the muscle daddy's presence and, eventually, essence expressed in his orgasm and ejaculate. He knew that any words of praise or recognition of the boy's quality of service, such as a growl of pleasure, or a tousling of the hair, sent waves of contentment and sexual fulfillment through his slave.

And that, he eventually realized, was what fundamentally drove his need to become more than he was. His boys. Their needs. Certainly the physical pleasure he derived from their service was important and something he craved; his unquestioned mastery over them and their subservient position to him were essential; but more than that, knowing that their need was to serve a real man, to be validated by an authority figure, to be noticed by and even allowed to be near enough to touch a godlike father figure. That he could have the power to grant those fantasies and exceedingly meet those needs was the ultimate purpose he wanted to fulfill.

It had been about three years since he'd peaked. The boys were plentiful, and though the play was sometimes disappointing because he wasn't meeting his own standards as a man, he continued searching for and training new boys. So few actually were worth cultivating, he often mused. Perhaps one in 20 stood out enough to even warrant a response to their initial missive requesting consideration.

He was methodical in his approach to assessing potential additions to his stable. Most important was to ascertain the consistency of their communication. How they addressed him. How they expressed their desires and intentions to serve. Their ability to follow simple instructions via online chats or text messages. Determining if their wish to serve was purely from the immediate need of seeing his profile and wanting to get off, or a truly devoted heart of service that stayed focused over days and weeks of discussion before finally being allowed an interview.

So few made it through that gauntlet, and even the ones that were granted an initial session rarely impressed to the point of being pursued. But there were a few worthy of additional investment, and that might be malleable enough to bring into his service. These he trained over a period of weeks and months, with multiple sessions of service, learning his moods, likes, dislikes, and general personality. The ones that continued to please through this series of encounters simply became part of his male harem.

Tonight, he sat in his chair ruminating on all of this, waiting for his newest recruit to report for his initial encounter. First times were always a bitch, he thought - many times the boy failed to show, getting cold feet at the last minute. He knew he was an intimidating man, and when it came time to face him, a boy might lack the courage to do so. Disappointing, as he could have helped the young man with the deficiency in his character had he only yielded to training, but then there were other boys waiting for the chance...

At exactly the time expected, the door opened and the boy tentatively poked his head in. The darkness lit only by candlelight took a few moments to adjust to. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Hello, SIR."

He said nothing in reply. The boy had been given specific instructions, and part of the test was to see if he executed them properly. The daddy/master thought back to the last text message he had sent: "ENTER THE GARAGE, STAND BEFORE ME AND STRIP NAKED." - a typical sequence he would be expected to perform at the beginning of each visit. He waited patiently without showing any sign of recognition that the boy was present. "Damnit, boy, GET OVER HERE AND STRIP!" thought the daddy to himself. Finally, the boy moved to stand before the seated hulking man and proceeded to remove his clothing.

"Good," thought the leather daddy. "He's at least able to remember basic commands." He waited patiently, drawing on his cigar and observing from beneath the wide shiny brim of his leather master's cap until the boy was completely naked. After a few more moments, if the boy followed instructions, he would drop to his knees and bring his face to the ground between his boots.

But he hesitated again.

"Fucking idiot!" thought the leather daddy. "He should be on his knees by now. What a disappointment...."

The boy dropped to his knees and brought his face to the floor between his master's booted feet. ?Perhaps he?s just slow to remember, or still recovering from seeing me for the first time in person,? thought the leather daddy. ?Neither are reasons to dismiss him yet.? The master could continue with his indoctrination routine and see if the boy was good for anything useful.

?Good boy,? he growled, smiling to himself. The boy?s ass was nice to see and certainly appeared to be a nice tight prize to enjoy if it became clear he could handle such abuse. The pale white skin, his lithe form in the flickering candlelight bowing down before him was bringing a familiar tingle to his cock.

?Raise up, son, and look at me.?

The boy obeyed, slowly lifting his gaze to behold his potential master.

Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. A shy smile mixed with a look of awe as he beheld the muscle daddy seated before him. ?Cute little fucker,? said the daddy to himself. The boy blushed, as if he guessed at the thought passing through his fantasy man?s mind.

Out loud, the daddy addressed his new recruit: ?Good to meet you, son. You?ve done well following instructions and getting this far on your journey to be one of my boys. But it?s really only just starting. There?s a lot more to learn, and you may not be able to complete the training. Regardless, it will be a growing experience for you; I?ll teach you what I can, and you?ll be a better boy for it. Do you understand what the agenda is this evening??

?Yes, SIR. I?. I think so??

?Then tell me. Let?s see how attentive you?ve been in our chat sessions.?

?I?m to be inspected, SIR. Though, I?m not exactly sure what that means, SIR. And, if You like what You see, then I?ll be given basic tasks to perform tonight. If I do them well, You said you would allow me to come back a second time to continue with other tasks until I?ve learned to serve You as you required, SIR.?

The master could hear the boy?s submission in every word; there was no doubt the applicant was serious about his training, and understood that the man before him was of an entirely superior order.

?Correct. But it isn?t just about following orders, boy. It must be more than that. Why are you here, son? Tell me what really drove you to be here tonight, not what you think I want to hear you say. It takes a lot of nerve for a boy to come and meet me. You?re surely aware that I?m capable of overcoming you and doing whatever I please with you, regardless of whether you consent. Something compelled you to ignore that fear and come anyway. I want to know what it is.?

The boy raised a quizzical eyebrow and said, ?But I wasn?t afraid, SIR. I knew you wouldn?t hurt me.?

Not what the daddy expected to hear. Usually, it was ?I want to please you, SIR,? or ?I want to be used and service your hot cock, SIR,? or similar. All good answers, but predictable. This answer, though, was downright strange.

?And how did you deduce that, son??

?I? I don?t know. I could just tell. You?re the most beautiful and awe inspiring man I?ve ever seen, SIR. I?m so drawn to you on so many levels. I see your body and my cock is instantly stiff. Your face is so rugged and handsome. Your eyes so piercing. It isn?t as if I had a choice of whether or not to trust you, SIR. I simply trusted You from the moment I became aware of You. As if it has always been that way, and always will be that way, SIR. I can?t explain it further, SIR.?

The boy dropped his head to look at the floor, a bit embarrassed, it seemed. The leather daddy considered what he had just heard. It was quite moving, and much more heart-felt than most of what his other boys said when expressing their love and appreciation for him, especially without any training of how they should express themselves.

?Hmmm,? he thought to himself, ?this one?s really got the heart for it. Very rare, indeed.?

The boy raised his head and smiled. ?I just want to be near you, SIR, and be whatever you want me to be for you, SIR. I have no other purpose, SIR. I had no purpose until the moment I saw your profile that day?? His voice trailed off and his head dropped again.

The leather daddy placed his hand on the boy?s head to reassure him.

CRACKLE!

A blue arc jumped from his outstretched fingers to the boy?s head. It was short-lived, and didn?t hurt. But it startled them both.

?What the fuck?!? the daddy exclaimed while jerking back his hand. The boy gave a short yelp and fell back onto the rug-covered floor.

?What? what was that, SIR??

?I don?t know. Never happened before. Static electricity, I suppose. Just a bit strange, given the humidity and other factors. Don?t let it spook you, son. Come back over to me.?
The boy timidly approached again and the daddy?s hand reached out and patted his head. This time, there was no spark. No crackle. But the big man could feel a slight tingling running down his arm. It seemed as if there was an energy flow through his hand and into the boy at their point of contact. Far from unpleasant, it was just eerie. The boy felt it as well. His body tensed, and he looked up at the man.

?SIR, what are you doing? I feel like cold water is pouring into my head where you?re touching it.?

?Nothing, son, I?? The feeling dissipated. ?Just the rest of that static charge. Let?s not worry about it. You need to get focused on me and serving me, son. I?m not in a hurry, but I also don?t have all night. Understood??

?Yes, SIR.?

?Now the first thing to learn is your first position. On your knees, face to the ground between my boots. You assumed it when you arrived. Whenever I say ?First position!? you are to move immediately to it.?

?Yes, SIR.?

?First position, boy!?

The boy immediately returned to the required pose.

?Well done, son. Now stand up for inspection. You?re to remain still without speaking or moving, regardless of what I may do, until you are instructed to do otherwise.?

?Yes, SIR.? The boy rose to his feet, as did the leather daddy, who began to slowly walk around him. The boy was slightly less than six feet tall, easily topped by the daddy?s 6 ?3? frame.

?Nice ass, son.? The boy started as if to respond, caught himself, and remained silent. The boy was quite attractive. Slightly muscular, but certainly not in the same league as himself, with no blemishes on his skin, and well-formed hands, feet, and cock. The latter was fully erect, as the boy was clearly excited by the proceedings.

?Nice body overall, boy. Very nice. I can put it to good use, and train it to be even more fit for that purpose. Now, I?ll show you what a real man?s body looks like.? The boy?s eyes widened as he realized his master was about to take off his tight-fitting shirt to reveal his muscular physique. The daddy removed his cigar and hat to one hand, use the other to begin pulling the shirt over his head, completed the maneuver within seconds, replacing the hat and cigar, and placing the shirt on the back of the chair.

The boy?s mouth slowly went agape. The leather daddy, getting off on the effect he was having on his boy, struck a double biceps pose while puffing on his stogie. The candlelight caught the sheen of his skin in all of its muscularly defined contours. The cloud of smoke enveloping him made the muscle daddy look indeed like some leather god from Mount Olympus. Tears formed in the boys eyes as he looked upon the spectacular specimen of manhood before him.

?Well, boy! What do you think?? roared the leather daddy, knowing full well his boy was one breath shy of an intense orgasm at the sight of his godlike physique.

?Oh, SIR! Oh, SIR! You are beautiful, SIR! I?m so in awe of you my master. I?m so unworthy to be here before you. So unworthy to touch you, but that is all I long for now, SIR. My whole being depends on touching you and feeling your strength and power first hand, SIR! I?ll do anything you say, and be whatever I must be if only you?ll grant me that privilege, SIR! Oh, SIR, please!?

The boy was practically sobbing. The leather daddy had elicited similar outpourings of desire and submission from boys in the past, but nothing ever this well-articulated, or convincing. Not that the other boys weren?t sincere, they just didn?t have the depth of expressiveness that this boy had. It was as if he were baring his soul to the big man, totally exposing himself inside and out with complete trust.

The leather man was touched to his core. He wanted the boy to have his wish. To let him touch the god before him, his fantasy fulfilled. He took another long draw on the cigar expelling an even more expansive cloud of thick smoke, struck another more accessible pose for the boy?s reaching arms to explore, and said, ?I believe you deserve that, son. You may touch me.?

The boy moved forward tentatively, an his right palm raised, fingers straining forward slightly has he pushed them towards the muscle daddy?s right pec. Then contact, and the strange tingling sensation again. Both felt it. The daddy felt an energy drain through the point on his skin where he was being touched. The boy again perceived the feeling of a could liquid pouring into him through his fingertips. He pulled them away quickly.

?SIR, I??

?Yeah, I felt it too, son.?

?I don?t understand?.?

?Neither do I. But it obviously doesn?t hurt, and appears to be harmless enough.? What the big man didn?t say was how erotic the discharge was. So startled was he by the first incident, he had failed to notice the effect. But, on the second occurrence, given the situation with his towering pose over a boy who was about to experience one of his most treasured fantasies of touching his muscle god, the daddy felt a distinct change in his penis and groin, even across his whole body. It was as if each cell of his massive frame were contributing to the energy that had flowed into the boy for a few seconds, and having dispensed that energy, were experience an afterglow of sorts. Whatever was happening, it was pleasurable, if not somewhat concerning.

The concept of energy exchange wasn?t new to him, though he had never experienced such a thing. In fact, though he had seen documentaries, read web sites, and heard radio kooks talk about such things, he didn?t believe it. The idea that some people were energy sources, and others were energy sinks, just seemed to? convenient an explanation for why people were so different. The idea of ?energy vampires? ? people who preyed on others for their energy ? was laughable at the time he heard it. Now, with the boy standing here, clearly able to pull energy from him, he wasn?t so sure. What if energy vampires existed, and the boy were one? Could he be a threat?

He eyed the boy with concern. The boy had a shocked look on his face and exclaimed suddenly, ?I wasn?t pulling, SIR. You were pushing it into me. You were feeding me, SIR. I was open and you poured some of Yourself into me!?

?How did you know what I was thinking, boy!? the muscle daddy demanded. ?How the fuck did you get into my head and read my mind??

?I just know you were thinking I was some kind of vampire, SIR. But I?m not. I?m? well, I don?t know what I am. When I got here earlier, I could feel what you wanted. When you wanted me to strip and get down on my knees, I just knew that's what you wanted."

The leather daddy smirked, "You knew that from the text I sent, son. Try again."

"Text, SIR?"

The muscle daddy frowned, turned to his side table and consulted his phone. Indeed, he had entered the message, but not sent it.

The boy continued, "After we touched those two times, that feeling is stronger to the point of sometimes hearing what you are thinking. I?m sure I don?t hear everything. Only things that have to do with me, SIR.? He began to break down and cry. ?I?m.. I?m not an energy vampire, SIR. I just know that when I touched You that last time, you started pushing Your energy into me and I couldn?t help it. I wanted it, SIR. I don?t know how I know it, but I think I?m more like a battery, or a conductor for your energy, SIR. Like I?ve been attuned to your frequency my whole life and now I?m close to the source and?. Awe, fuck, SIR, that all sounds too crazy to believe. I don?t know why I said it?.?

The big man thought a bit longer. Just as he was open to accepting that some of these far-out concepts might be real, the boy had experience a similar revelation. They both ?just knew? that something special was happening here. And as for who was responsible for the transfer, in retrospect he decided it very well could have been himself, but was still not sure of it. Regardless, he knew that he and the boy would have to explore this strange connection to understand it fully. There was an intense desire building in his body to discharge again into the boy, a feeling not unlike the numerous times he was receiving cock service from one of them and decided to release his cum into them. In fact, it was almost an identical feeling of deep pleasure and well-being, and of knowing the boy had been fed in the process.

?Boy,? he finally said. The boy stopped his quiet sobbing and looked up at him. They were still standing facing other. ?I want you to reach out with both hands and place your palms on my chest. Don?t be afraid. Make solid contact with the skin and don?t remove them until I give you permission.?

?But, SIR, I don?t know what?.?

?Quiet, son! I don?t know exactly what will happen either, but I want to know. And I have a feeling it will be good for both of us. Now, do it!?

Again the boy approached, palms up, getting nearer to each of the massive pectorals of the muscle daddy. Then, with a decisive final push, he planted both hands onto the massive chest.

The rush was incredible. Prior contact had been through finger tips, and only for brief seconds. This was much broader contact and for a much longer time. The big muscle daddy could feel energy being produced from every fiber of his body, marshaling behind the massive nips on his chest, and the exiting through the tightly stretched skin and into the palms of the boy. The feeling was indeed like that of an incredible orgasm and ejaculation. He lifted his chin, cigar clenched between his teeth, and began to growl and moan as the exchange continued for what seemed like several minutes but was in fact only 30 or so seconds. Through the roaring and growling of his own expressed pleasure of release, the muscle daddy finally heard the distant gasping of his boy.

?SIR! I? I can?t.. I?m filling up? I?m??

The leather daddy ignored the boy, so engrossed was he in the strange orgasm. ?Keep those hands on my big fuckin? chest, boy! Fuck yeah!? he reached down and quickly unbuttoned the fly on his jeans to release his own monstrous hard on and began to stroke it with successive powerful pumps of is muscular right arm. ?Aww, goddamnit, boy! Fuck yeah, son! Uhhh? ohh.. aaah AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!?

--END CHAPTER 1--