Story: skin part 1

There he was again. On my bus. Just like he was every Thursday evening. This skinhead. A few years younger than me. I wouldn’t call him attractive, but there was a je ne sais quoi about him. I couldn’t stop staring at him. It does help that I have a bit of a skinhead fetish. Their shaved head, their attitude, their clothes, their boots... I don’t know why that all turns me on so much, but it does.

I have a lot of fetishes actually. I’d say I’m a pretty boring guy by day, but a pervert by night. I’m very much into BDSM and have experience as a sub. I know a few doms who are always happy to tie me up and spank me. It doesn’t really happen that often, and as much as I hate to admit it, most of the time I’d rather stay home and masturbate. So even as a pervert, I’m boring.

Anyway, back to that skinhead. Like I said, I see him every Thursday evening on the bus, and I can’t take my eyes off him. My imagination ran wild, and when I got home, my tissues ran out. If you know what I mean. And afterwards I felt silly for even thinking about it. Until I saw him again. And so the cycle continued for a few months.

He always gets off a stop before mine. This time, he stayed on the bus. I got off, and in the corner of my eye I could see him get off as well. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I heard some footsteps behind me, heavy steps that could only be him.
“I’ve seen you staring at me...for many months now...you like what you see, don’t you?”
I turned around. “I’m sorry, I’m...”
“Keep walking.”
For some reason I did what he said. Part of me definitely wanted to run away, or even fight him, but on the other hand, wasn’t this exactly what I longed for all this time? He was giving me attention, I should be happy to spend any time with him at all.
“You have a profile on Recon, don’t you? And some other sites related to BDSM. Yeah, that’s you. You’re going to get a treat now, boy”.
Treat? What? Him saying all that made me even more nervous.
“Relax! I won’t hurt you. Trust me.” Huh, easier said than done. 
He lead me to a little pedestrian passage that leads up to a small park. I knew from experience that hardly anyone came here, even during the day, and people walking their dog would be quick to walk back from where they came from once they saw two figures in the darkness.

“Turn around”. His eyes were locked on to mine.
“Kneel”.
“Lick my boots”.
This was going too far. “But I...” - “You have a choice here. I’m willing to train you as my boi. The first step of that is to lick my boots. If you’re not interested, you can just walk away, no harm done. But I’m only offering you this choice once.”
I thought about it for two seconds. Then I bowed down and started licking his boots.
“Good boy”, he said after a minute or two. Those two words almost short-circuited my brain. Deep down, I was proud of being called a good boy. On the surface, I was embarrassed by being called a boy by someone who’s younger than me. Coupled with licking his boots, I was deeply humiliated, but strangely it gave me a sense of satisfaction as well. 
“That will be enough for now. Get up”. I was right in front of him, but I just could not look him in the eye. “Look at me boy”. It took an immense effort to comply. “Good. By next week, I want you to shave your groin, and if you have any hair on your chest or belly I want that gone too. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Yes...yes Sir”.
He smirked. “Good boy”, he said, then walked away.



Next Thursday, I saw him on the bus again, and my heart started beating faster. He completely ignored me, but I just couldn’t help staring at him, I hardly took my eyes off him during the entire bus ride.
We got off and went to “our” spot, him again walking two steps behind me. He didn’t speak at all until we got there. “You know what you have to do boy.” I fell to my knees and started licking his boots. He let me do it a lot longer than with our first meeting, and my tongue was getting tired after a while. I worked up quite a sweat as well. 
“Getting tired boy?”
“Yes Sir, sorry Sir...”
“Hmm...we’ll have to work on that. Your tongue is a muscle and it can be trained. A slutty boy like you no doubt has a toy collection with a dildo in it. I want you to train your tongue on that dildo...it’ll be good practice for later as well... Understand, boy?”
“Yes Sir.” I was quite aware of what he meant with ‘practice for later’.
“Now get up and face away from me.”

He held me close, one arm around my neck, and with the other hand under my shirt, moving it across my chest.I loved the way he was touching me. I let out a soft moan once he gave my nipples some more attention. “You ARE a slutty boy...” he whispered. I could feel his breath on my right ear.
His hands went down and I knew he would check if I had shaved my pubes as well. He also found my semi-erect cock...”Ha! Just as I thought...” I was embarrassed but couldn’t deny this was one of the horniest moments I ever had in my life. “I bet you masturbated thinking about our meeting didn’t you? Don’t answer that, I know you did. We’re going to fix that too...in time.” What did he mean by that? “Now run along home little boy...you have your homework. And keep your body smooth. Also, Thursday is ‘no underwear day’ from now on. Don’t forget that for next week. Oh and make sure you're free for the entire evening next Thursday. ” And with that he walked away, leaving me to dream (read: masturbate) about what would happen next week.


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That's all for part 1. This is all based on a true story you know! One day there was a skinhead on my bus home, and I just couldn't keep my eyes off him even though he wasn't very attractive or anything. So weird. Anyway, that is the main reason why I started writing this story. It's very soft for now but in part 2 the boy will really start his training heh.

Edit: you can find part 2 here.