Go back


by johnsmith100110


It was a cold and dreary night in late fall. 19 year old John was bored. Bored and broke. And horny. He hadn't been laid in a month. He had been fired, and was really pissed about that. That faggot had no right to complain to the boss about John bullying him and making him give him lunch money two or three times each week. Isn't that what fags are for? So thanks to that piss-ant, he was on the road and had no money, worse, no honey would give him the time of day, even though he was quite the foxy looking guy, nice body, long chestnut hair, he worked out regularly at the gym until his membership was cancelled for non-payment. His car had been repossessed, he had been evicted, so he was walking down the road, carrying a bag of his stuff, wondering what to do now. He decided to stick his thumb out and get a ride, “a ride to nowhere and nothing”, he thought, and shortly thereafter, a late-model SUV with tinted windows pulled over and he got in. The driver was expensively dressed, 30-something, very nordic looking, and well built. John was no slouch himself, but this guy was something else.

“So where are you going,” the driver asked.

“I am on the road to nowhere and then on to nothing. I've been evicted, I'm bored, and broke, haven't been laid in a month. I am in a depressing situation. So take me with you until wherever and let me off wherever, one place is as good as another, I guess.”

The driver smiled and said --“Yeah, I understand, times are rough all over. Tell you what, I have some odd jobs you could do for me, and you could crash at my place tonite and make some cash. Don't know that I can do anything about you being horny, being as how we're both guys, but two out of three isn't bad. My name is Tim, by the way.”

They shook hands, and when they did, John felt a spark of electricity go through his body. “Wow, static electricity.” He briefly wondered if Tim was a fag, but he was so grateful for the ride and the warmth that he suddenly didn't care Tim pushed “play” on the CD player, and some soft rock came on with a rhythmic pulse. As they went down the road, John started to feel really good, and also very grateful for his benefactor.

“How are you feeling” asked Tim.
“Man, I am feeling good,” replied John,.
“How good you are feeling?”
“Better than I thought possible.”
“Are you relaxing?”
“I am relaxing.”
“How relaxed are you.”
“So relaxed, so very relaxed.”

John briefly thought it a bit odd at being quizzed this way, but hey, he was along for the ride, and if Tim wanted to pass the time with conversation and questions, well, he wanted to answer. The van was nice and warm, riding was better than walking. The music pulsed, and it somehow seemed right that he should answer. He certainly wanted to make Tim happy, he looked like he had a lot of money, and with that face and body, he probably has lots of babes at his command. So Tim continued to ask, in kind of a back and forth, repetitive dialogue, and John continued to answer, and after a while. . .

“How did you end up on the road like this?”
“I guess I'm just a fuckup. Can't hold a job, can't pay my bills, can't do anything right.”
“Sounds like you need some direction in your life?
“Yeah, I guess that's true.”
“So you are a fuckup?”
“Yes, I am a fuckup.”
“You can't do anything right?”
“I can't do anything right.”
“So because you are such a fuckup, you need someone to help you?”
“Yes, I need someone to help me.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yes, someone like you.”

Tim lit a joint and passed it over, and it went back and forth a few times as Tim turned off the main road onto a small 2 lane road.”

“So would you like for me to help you?”
“Yes, I would.”
“You need that?”
“Yes, I need that.”
“What do you need?”
“I need help.”

There was kind of a relentless beat to the questions, and he found his answers moving into the rhythm, in fact, often he was just repeating the questions back to Tim, only changing “you” to “I” and “me” to “you”, etc.

“Helping you will probably take a lot of my time. Would you be grateful if I did that?”
“Yes, I would be grateful.”
“Would you be grateful if I did that to you?”
“Yes, I would be grateful if you did that to me.”
Would you be grateful if I did that to you?”
Yes, I would be grateful if you did that to me.”

Somehow, it seemed both weird and normal to be quizzed like this. To be asked the same question 3 times in a row, well, that seemed to be happening a lot. And as they went on, smoking the joint, listening to the music, he became more relaxed.

“What will you do for me?”
“Man, I will do anything for you.”
“Anything,” John answered firmly, And he knew it was true. He was very grateful. Winter was coming, he didn't want to be homeless, he was a fuck-up, he knew that, in fact, he had just admitted that. Three times in a row, and then after another question, another 3 times in a row, and then 3 more times. It was so true, he was such a fuck-up, he really needed help.

“It sounds to be like you need to learn obedience.”
“Yes, I need to learn obedience.”
“You need to learn obedience from me.”
“I need to learn obedience from you.”
“Tell me ten times, and count them, that you need to learn obedience from me.”
“One, I need to learn obedience from you. Two, I need to learn obedience from you. . . ”

and so it went, when he had finished ten repetitions, Tim told him to do 20. At 20, he told him to do 40. Then Tim said, as they pulled into a driveway and came to a stop, “Everything that I tell you is true.”

“Everything you tell me is true.”

“Tell me 100 times that everything I tell you is true and count them.”
“One, everything that you tell me is true, Two, everything that you tell me is true. . . “

When he had finished the 100 repetitions, it took 7 or 8 minutes, Tim said, “Let's go inside and get comfortable.”

As they got to the front door, Tim handed the house key to John and said, “unlock the door and open it.” John did, Tim walked in first and John followed after him, and Tim said, “Now lock the door behind us and give me the key.” The door required a key to lock it from both sides, so John did that and gave the key to Tim. They walked down a short hall, and came to another locked door. Tim handed John a key, and said, “Unlock it and open the door.” Which he did, they went through, and Tim told him to lock the second door behind them and give him the key.

And then there was a third door! It was also locked, and they repeated the procedure. John always unlocked and opened the door, Tim always went through first, John following, and then John would close and lock the door, giving the key to Tim. It was like a ritual. John briefly wondered how many doors they would go through, but he was so out of options, so desperate for help, so grateful to Tim for picking him up and getting him out of the weather, and giving him some purpose, that he was going to go along with whatever Tim wanted. If he wanted three locked doors, he could have three locked doors.

The third door opened into a low-lit, luxuriously appointed living room. Tim picked up a remote and clicked it and the same music that had been on in the car came on in the house, rhythmic, pulsing, he could occasionally hear glimpses of some spoken words, but mostly it was just the music. They continued across the room to another door, and went through the unlock/lock procedure just as they had done before. Tim put on sunglasses, and clicked the remote again, and a series of flashes began. On the other side of the door was a staircase going downwards, another door was at the bottom. The flashes seemed to follow them, as did the music, and at the bottom of the stair case, they went through their lock/unlock ritual and came to another staircase going down. The flashes and music followed them down the staircase, and John started to feel a wave of erotic pleasure wash across his body, so strong that his cock came erect, straining against his jeans. His mind seemed very still, he wasn't thinking much at all, he was listening to the music and watching the flashes. At the 2nd door, they did the unlock/lock ritual, and found more stairs going downwards. The music and flashes followed them. At the bottom of that staircase, the door was ornate, the key was large, old-fashioned, and above the door was written, “No-Thing-Ness.” Here the ritual changed a bit.

Tim said, “You want to learn obedience from me.”

John replied, “I want to learn obedience from you.”

And Tim asked the same question 2 more times, for a total of three.

Tim said, “Obedience makes you happy.”
“Obedience makes me happy.” And John knew, suddenly, that this was true, he didn't even think it was weird. The smoke, the music, the rhythm of the ride, the constant pulsing of the questions, the locking and and locking ritual, the descent down the multiple staircases, he knew that Tim had figured him out, and had the solution to him and John had no way out.

Tim said the same phrase two more times, and then told John to take off his shirt and his shoes, to kneel, kiss the door, which John did. Then Tim took a large collar with a leash, and placed it around his neck, and as he did so, the flashes increased in intensity as did the music, and John felt a flash of electricity course through his body, and the sensation of erotic pleasure was intense. He dimly could think, "I guess Tim is a fag." and then, "I guess I am a fag too."

“Tell me 100 times that you want to learn obedience from me.”

And John did, as he knelt before the final door, the door of No-Thing-Ness and as he past 50, the repetitions took on a bit of a drone, and John knew that everything he was saying was becoming true, he didn't know how he knew that, but he knew it for sure.

“You are a No-Thing.”
“I am a No-Thing.”

“Tell me 500 times that you are a No-Thing.”

And John did, as he knelt before that final door, he knew when he unlocked it and went through, that he would become a No-Thing.

Jerking on the leash, Tim brought his young clueless victim to his feet, and they went through the lock-unlock ritual, only this time, Tim told John to crawl through the door. Once inside, Tim told John to stand, and he took a hood and put it over John's face, leaving the mouth-opening unzipped, saying to him, “You are a No-Thing.” John replied, “I am a No-Thing.” Then Tim took John's hands, and locked them in shackles. “It is a No-thing.” John replied – “It is a No-Thing.” Tim – “It will learn obedience from me.” John – “It will learn obedience from you.” Tim unbuckled John's belt and pushed his pants and shorts to the floor, his cock springing up as it was released from confinement in its jeans. “It is a No-thing.” “It is a No-Thing.” “It will learn obedience from me.” “It will learn obedience from you.”

Tim shackled the former person named John's ankles together and attached the wrist shackles to a hook, pushed a button, and the hook rose until the former person known as John was standing on its toes. He took a smaller piece of rope, and wrapped it around the former person known as John's cock and balls, and hung a weight from it. As he dropped the weight, he kicked the former person known as John hard in the balls, it screamed in pain, and its mind snapped into No-Thing-Ness.

“It is a No-thing.” “It is a No-Thing.” “It will learn obedience from me.” “It will learn obedience from you.”

Tim smiled cruelly as he picked up a whip, and went to work on his new toy.


Add a Comment