The Boy Next Door 02: Collared

The Boy Next Door 2: Collared

Tim & Hunter compete for becoming the top dog.

WARNING: This is a twisted tale of foot worship, reluctant male on male sex, with a heavy dose of male submission and domination, as two straight men vie for dominance as they explore the boundaries of their sexuality, so if you find those things at all objectionable, please move on. Everyone is over 18 and you should not try this at home.

FYI - I'm not really into the foot worship scene, but I have been on the receiving end. If you are heavy into foot worship, please let me know if I've come close to your experiences and/or fantasies. Thanks for reading!

As I gasped my recovery, Hunter dragged his hot foot through the jizz on my belly and brought his dripping foot to my mouth. "Lap it up, bitch." I hesitated but then lapped his foot clean while Hunter collected more cum with his other foot. I almost retched several times as I was presented with one cum coated foot to clean and then the other over and over again. I was on the verge of puking when the timer went off.

Our foot worship session was over.

As Hunter pulled his feet from my face, I bolted upright, wiping my face with my hand and headed for the bathroom to clean up. A quick session with a washcloth and towel, along with a healthy dose of mouthwash left me feeling a lot better. I tossed my boxer briefs in the hamper and changed to a clean pair of white CK briefs. I headed back to my living room where Hunter was sitting comfortably on my couch in just his jeans, drinking a beer...the punk.

"You alright, Tim?"

"Yeah, I just needed to clean up. Grabbing a beer. Need another...?"

"Sure. Nice tighty whiteys...Pops," he joked.

"Mind your elders, sonny," I teased back as I grabbed a couple of cold ones. I returned to the couch and popped one open and handed Hunter a fresh one.

"Thanks. So, what did you think of the foot worship scene?"

I took a swig and swallowed. "Well, it was different...I guess I can scratch that off my bucket list, not that it was on there to begin with. Still, it was kinda fun." Since Hunter had opened the subject, I decided to dig a bit...and maybe plant a seed. "Did you ever try it?"

Like any straight guy, Hunter deflected defensively, "You mean try the bottom role? No, I'm purely a top man."

"OK. I just thought you might have tried it once. There's the old saying that you can only be a good top if you've been on the bottom a few times." I knew what was coming, but I wanted to get his beer lubricated gears turning...

Hunter chuckled, "Yeah...I don't think so, bro." That wasn't a no. I let the gears continue to turn a little bit but didn't push.

"I was just curious..." I changed the subject to the game and sports in general. In a few minutes I grabbed us a couple more cold ones and some snacks. That was fine, but I started to get hungry. "I'm gonna call for a pizza, you like pepperoni?"

"How about sausages?"

"I'll get half and half." I sent the order it into the local joint and when the confirmation came I smiled to myself, "My pizza should be here in twenty."

"Sweet, I'm starving."

"No. MY pizza is coming in twenty minutes." Hunter looked confused. "If you want half of MY pizza, you'll have to worship my feet until the pizza guy gets here."

Hunter's face was priceless. "WHAT?! No way, dude! I'll pay for half if you want..."

"What I want is your lips on my feet, duuude..." I dragged out the dude, mocking him and dramatically put my bare feet on my coffee table. This was it. If the seed I had planted earlier hadn't taken root at all, Hunter had multiple options; laugh it off, tell me to fuck off and leave, go without pizza, order his own, etc.

"You're serious, aren't you...?" Again, not a NO...

I just looked at Hunter and waited for him to decide on his next move.

With a sigh and a slight head shake, Hunter started to slide to his knees, but I intercepted him, "No jeans..." Hunter paused, shook his head again in amiable disbelief and smiled as he opened his jeans.

I would have thought you were nuts if you had told me this morning that tonight I would find myself in my underwear on my couch, drinking a beer while watching my good looking 22-year-old neighbor shuck off his jeans to get down on all fours at my feet, but that's what I was doing! It may have been due to my beer goggles, but Hunter was a perfect specimen of a young man in his prime...trim, strong and masculine. The kid should have been a model...OK, maybe the beer was skewing my assessment a bit and his black designer briefs weren't hurting either.

Hunter approached my bare feet that were splayed on the coffee table. He moved with the confident powerful grace of a panther between my feet until I felt the enticing tickle of his warm breath on my right foot. He glanced up at me with those blue eyes and tentatively smooched my right foot with his soft lips. I inhaled at the sensation. Fuck... I had a sudden urge to grab the young man at my feet and have my way with him!

Hunter smiled and nibbled playfully at the side of my foot. I had two realizations. One, I LIKED having my feet worshipped and two, Hunter was a playful bottom who enjoyed toying with me, just as I had enjoyed toying with him. I smiled down at him and gently stroked his cheek with my other foot. "Good boy," I complimented him.

Hunter smiled again and started to smooch, lick and nibble my other foot. I spotted his belt on the sofa and had an idea. Hunter got a little nervous, thinking I was going to whip him like he had done to me, but I looped it around his neck and held onto the end like a leash. I gave it a gentle yank, "Keep going, boy." Hunter could tell I was playing with him too and went to work on my feet. He really knew what to do down there, having had older slaves worship his feet. I guess I had it backwards, maybe you needed to be a good top to be a good bottom. Hunter really went to town on my feet, kissing, licking sucking, making me squirm and gasp at his ministrations.

DING-DONG!

Oh, right. Pizza. I grabbed my cargo shorts and stepped into them. Hunter moved to stand up. "Stay." I received a blank look. "The pizza isn't HERE yet, boy," I gestured at the coffee table. He settled back to the carpet. With a smile I gave him another tug, "C'mon, boy. Let's get pizza. Heel." I walked to the door and Hunter crawled along hesitantly like a good dog. Hmm...Hunter. What a good name for a young pup!

I could tell he was nervous about being exposed, but relaxed when I pointed to the space behind the door. Hunter crouched there as I opened the door and paid the delivery guy. I was tempted to say, "Stay, boy, stay," to Hunter while the door was open but I didn't want to embarrass him and I don't believe in inflicting personal kinks on the unsuspecting public. I closed the door, "Look, boy. Pizza!" I proclaimed with mock enthusiasm. Hunter played along and jumped like an excited pup, "R-Ruff!" he barked, sounding just like a young puppy. Hmm...maybe Hunter was a bit too enthusiastic with his role as a pup...

I kicked it up a notch as I walked back to the living room, talking to him like he WAS a pup, "Yeah,yeah,yeah, peeet...zaa!"

Hunter pranced along with me, back straight and head erect like a show dog, "R-Ruff!" "R-Ruff!" "R-Ruff!"

I dropped the box on the coffee table and Hunter sniffed it, "Peettt-zaaaa! Good boy!"

I ruffled his hair. "R-Ruff!" "R-Ruff!"

I laughed and took off his collar, "Let's eat!" We dug into the pizza, but I could tell Hunter was disappointed that puppy time was over. I think he was surprised himself at how much he had enjoyed it, but we dealt with it like all straight guys deal with awkward gayish sex situations, by turning to beer, pizza and football.

While I sat on the couch eating pizza and watching the game in my cargo shorts, Hunter sat on the floor in just his underwear wolfing down pizza and beer. I had done the same thing when I was his age but never with an older man in the room. Was he acting consciously subservient to me by sitting on the floor or just acting his age? Either way it was a major turn on for me to have a handsome young man at my feet in his underwear. Hunter was sitting with his back on the couch and at one point while we were talking about the game, he turned to face me and rested his elbow on my thigh but when he turned back to the game, he left his arm resting on my leg. I was all too aware that my hairy calve was in full contact with his smooth torso and my foot was touching his cotton clad butt and smooth thigh. Being straight guys neither of us said anything or made a move, we just enjoyed the casual physical contact with a strong fellow male.

We spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other's company, but it had to come to an end. Hunter started getting dressed and I invited him to hang again tomorrow night, "Hopefully the game will be better than tonight's was."

"Or at least less painful to watch," Hunter joked as he pulled on his jeans. "I'd love to hang, but umm..." I braced myself for the "this was a one-time thing" or "you know I'm straight" or "let's just be friends" speeches, so I was surprised when Hunter started to blush. "Maybe you could help me out. I made some stuff in my shop that my, umm, customers might like...maybe you could, umm, try it out for me for comfort and all...if it's not too weird for you..."

Just when I didn't think the kid could get cuter, he gives me this whole bashful toe in the ground speech. I just HAD to tease him, "So what kinda WEIRD stuff are you making in your shop young man..."

He smiled, "No, no, no...It's just some heavy-duty cuffs and collars and a fancier spiked set that I figured I could use and charge more for..."

"Hmm...OK," I answered, my curiosity peeked about what Hunter did and what he was capable of in his metal shop. "But dinner and beer are on you."

His face lit up with his goofy grin, "Cool. Chinese?"

"Perfect. It's a date," I steered him to the door with my hand in the small of his back, silently signaling that I was the man of the house and young Hunter was my date tomorrow night.

"Umm...OK," he agreed a bit flustered. I closed the door wishing him good night and feeling pretty good about our dynamic. The first round went to Hunter, but after that he had been in varying degrees the pup to my alpha for the evening.

My main concern was that come morning the young stud would panic over his actions tonight and chicken out at the last minute.

Only time would tell.

Sure enough, Hunter arrived on my doorstep early Sunday afternoon with a bag of Chinese food in one hand with a case of beer under his arm and a heavy canvas bag in the other. I relieved him of the beer and food from Ming's while he dropped the bag in the living room.

"Geez. What do you have, bricks in there?" I kidded as I put out the Chinese food on the coffee table with the pregame show on the TV.

He smiled his toothy grin, "Well, it is over a hundred pounds of steel."

"You're shitting me. I know you mentioned it was heavy duty, but a hundred pounds, seriously?"

"A little bit over when you add the locks and chains..." Hunter added sheepishly as he sat down and cracked a beer.

"No wonder you wanted to have me try it out...Wait. Did you say locks and chains?" Exactly what the fuck DID Hunter have in that bag?

Hunter chewed and swallowed his Lo Mein and nodded, "Uh-huh. Guys who are into that kinda heavy stuff like to hear it jangle around when they move."

"Ohh-kayyy, I guess whatever floats your boat." Suddenly I felt a little less worldly when it came to the world of heavy-duty kinky sex. We turned our attention to our meal and the start of the game. After a dismal first quarter, a couple of beers and some excellent Chinese food I got down to business, "OK. Let's see what you got in your bag of tricks, kiddo."

Hunter looked like a kid showing off his new toys after Christmas. He pulled out a box of almost comically large padlocks with the keys in them, which I was going to quiz him about when he mentioned padlocks. I sure didn't want to be locked into anything only to find out there were no keys handy. Next came about ten lengths of HEAVY chains that were about five feet long. Geez, the links had to be about 3/8 of an inch thick!

Then with a goofy grin, Hunter handed me the cuffs. HOLY SHIT! They probably weighed close to ten pounds each and looked like something from a gladiator movie. They were tapered and about six inches long and almost an inch of solid steel thick. "Let me help you with those," Hunter offered. I pulled my tee shirt off and offered my left wrist. The cuff hinged open, Hunter placed it around my wrist and closed it with a heavy clank. I was impressed with the workmanship. The cuff was narrow at the wrist, then flared out to fit up the forearm. The hinges were internal and there were tabs and slot on the rim to ensure it was a solid, flush closure. Hunter slipped one of the smaller padlocks through the solid eyelets and clicked it closed. I moved it around at different angles to see how it felt and fit. Hunter looked at me expectantly.

"Hunter, you made this in your shop? I'm really impressed. It's heavy, but not too tight and not too loose. Perfect. Your umm, customers will love this."

Hunter was almost beaming. I couldn't blame him, he must have put a lot of work into these cuffs. "Thanks, they might feel good now, but we need to see how they feel in a couple of hours."

Hours? Really? Great. What was the old saying? Never volunteer.

Hunter locked up my other wrist, then I had to strip to my tighty whities as Hunter secured my ankles with a different set of cuffs. They were similar to the wrist cuffs in that they tapered to the ankle but were bigger and heavier. I took them for a test walk and while not uncomfortable it was like walking in a set of very heavy ankle weights. Then Hunter had me kneel to put on the collar. It was big and heavy, about two inches high and an inch thick. It was hinged in back and Hunter secured it with a huge Master lock in the front. The collar must have been ten pounds and the lock another three pounds!

Hunter had locked a good fifty pounds of steel onto me!

"You doing alright?" he asked. I nodded. It wasn't too uncomfortable, but I would probably feel it in the morning. "Good. Wait till you try the belt!" UGH. More weight...

Hunter had to take another set of spiked cuffs and collars out of his bag so he could take out the "belt". HOLY CRAP. Except for it being a dull steel color, it reminded me of the old Batman utility belt. "It's the track from a trench digger," Hunter explained. It was about six inches wide and made up of interlocking steel plates at least an inch thick. It must have weighed in at more than fifty pounds and I had to help hold it around my waist as Hunter pulled it tight and closed the hasp in front, securing it with a lock as big as the one on my collar except this one dangled right above my junk!

I figured that even though it fit me like a tight steel corset that it was so heavy that it would fall off if I stood up. Hunter was way ahead of me. He hung a couple of heavy steel chains over my shoulders, crisscrossed them across my chest and back and secured them to the belt like suspenders. He had me stand up and attached a long chain to my wrists then secured it to my ankles. I could only lift my hand if I lifted my ankle and couldn't spread my ankles more than shoulder width apart.

Hunter looked me up and down, then gave me that toothy grin, "Tim, you look great." With a dubious look I went to look in the mirrored door in the entry closet. I looked reminiscent of one of those slave gladiators in those old movies. Hmm...kinda hot, I guess. I got that all of these restraints were supposed to make me feel confined, weak and powerless, but for some reason I felt powerful in all this heavy steel.

Hunter came up and hooked what looked like a tow chain to my collar, "Let's take it for a test run. Hands and knees." He yanked the chain and I obliged, crawling after him into the living room. I jangled as I crawled along behind Hunter and the heavy steel belt chained around my middle weighed down on me in this position like an anchor. It was a bit surreal to crawl through my apartment in just chains and my underwear while being led by a fully clothed handsome man young enough to be my son.

Hunter sat down on MY couch, in MY usual spot...the punk, and put his feet up on MY coffee table in triumph as he pulled me forward by the heavy chain. I crawled forward until my head was between his sneakered feet again. Unlike last night I wasn't in the mood for teasing, so I attacked his laces with my teeth, unknotting and loosening them quickly. Hunter kicked off his sneakers and peeled off his tee shirt as I latched onto the heel of his sock and almost ripped it off his foot to gain access to his bare foot. Instead of slavishly lapping his foot, I went after it like a hungry dog after a bone. I noticed that Hunter squeezed a couch cushion as I lapped and nipped at his tender toes.

If locking me up in chains and heavy irons was supposed to make me a submissive foot slave, they seemed to have the opposite effect on me, turning me into a foot destroyer. My mouth engulfed his foot and my tongue dove between his toes as I gnawed with my teeth on the instep and sole of his foot like a great white shark. I wanted to send a message to the cocky young stud sprawled on my couch - don't fuck with me kid, I'll eat you alive. Hunter tugged on the chain to direct me to his other foot. I pulled off, but I had other ideas. I licked and nibbled up the top of his foot and attacked his ankle. Hunter sucked in a breath as I gnawed on the sides of his ankle, making him squirm when I nibbled on the bone.

Then I moved on to the other foot, ripping his sock off his size twelve foot with my teeth and tossing it aside with a shake of my head before diving in to feast on the sweet meat of his foot. In the last 24 hours I had come to appreciate the masculine perfection of Hunter's young athletic feet. But I wasn't some pathetic sub who would crawl on my belly to worship the feet of a young god, if I was going to be part of some homoerotic foot worship scene, it was going to be masculine, unbridled, groaning, sweaty, man to man action.

I sat back on my heels and grabbed Hunter's leg, sliding his jeans up so I could gnaw on his ankle. "Easy..." he ordered with a yank on my chain. The heavy steel collar bit into my neck but I just bit down on his foot and gave him a "Don't fuck with me, punk" look. He relaxed back on the couch and I went easier on his perfectly formed foot. I found his sweet spot of a combination of kissing, licking and nibbling on his foot that had him squirming on the couch.

Hunter must have been into it since he had his hand down the front of his jeans, stroking his hard cock while watching me going down on his feet and breathing hard at the sensations I was sending through his feet straight to his cock. Finally, he couldn't take any more. Hunter stood up and yanked my chain, "On your back, bitch." I rolled over onto my back on my living room carpet and Hunter dropped down with his knees on either side of my head. He opened his jeans and hauled out his hard cock and balls. He started stroking his cock over my head while looking at his damn phone again. Fucking kids and their phones. I yanked it out of his hand and tossed it under the table, grabbed onto his hips and attacked his balls with my tongue.

Hunter groaned in surprise and pleasure as I lapped at his balls and he jerked his cock faster. He bent over me and grabbed one of the chains on my chest, confirming my suspicion's that the heavy chains and gear was Hunter's kink, not his customer's fetish. I was surprised myself that I had willingly decided to get my first taste of another man's genitalia, but I wanted to prove that even though I was on my back beneath the young stud, that I was the one in control. I reached into my briefs and pumped my own cock in time with Hunter's as I took each of his balls into my mouth one at a time for a good tongue bath. Above me, I felt and heard Hunter lose control as he stiffened and shot volley after volley of his hot load onto my chest.