Stone Harbor

    by forfun6253

Stone Harbor is deserted eight months of the year, but from June to

September, the hotels are packed, the beaches are swarming, and those of us

with rooms to rent can rake in the cash. The tourists stay in the legit

places, but the kids who come here looking for summer jobs can't afford a

hotel room of their own.

    I'd rented out the studio over my garage for five years before I got

smart. I guess it was too many summers of watching hot college boys coming

and going from my yard without even looking in my direction that made me do

it. It wasn't that I didn't have a good time with the tourists, but I could

see that I was missing out on a great opportunity.

    The roar of the ocean is always in the background in Stone Harbor, and at

my house overlooking the jetty, it's an environmental constant. It's even a

part of my answering machine message. Half a dozen microspeakers hidden in

the room, wired up to an old computer in the garage below, and some carefully

scripted inductions designed to play constantly at a level just below

conscious detection, and I was set.

    With my luck, it wasn't surprising that the first couple of applicants

for the studio were girls or couples. But the Saturday before Memorial Day,

I knew I'd hit the jackpot. Chris was 21, average in height. He was a dirty

blond, scruffy looking, and with the beefy muscularity of a jock whose

physique comes from hard work and play, not just the gym.

    Before I walked him out to show them the room, I pretended to shut down

my computer, but in truth I sent a message to start up the subliminal

inductions in the studio. Almost as soon as I'd let him in, I pretended to

hear my phone ring, and hustled back to the house. When I returned five

minutes later, was sporting a hardon in his shorts that he was trying to

hard. I pretended to ignore this and offered the studio to him at a rent I

knew he would take on the spot. He moved in two days later.

    Chris was working the kitchen at nights, so he was hanging around in the

afternoons before leaving about 4 o'clock. After letting the generic

inductions run constantly in the background for about two weeks, I made my

move on him by recording some new inductions that began running as soon as he

came home around 2 am.. Asleep in his bed till noon, Chris's mind was

bombarded with the messages I wanted him to absorb.

    I spent the Monday morning cruising the beach, picked up a kid who was

all hot for a 35 year old muscle daddy, brought him back to the house, and

let him blow me on the back porch. I saw the curtains move in the studio

window, but I didn't do anything about it. I knew Chris was up there

watching, while my voice was whispering in his ear: "Suck cock. Eat cum."

Over and over he heard it.

    I repeated the scenario on Tuesday with the same kid. On Wednesday, I

brought home a gay couple who really enjoyed themselves. I fucked one of

them for good measure. By this point, Chris was watching openly from his

window.

    Thursday morning I took off like ususal, but purposely came home alone.

As I got out of my car, I saw Chris's curtain move; he'd clearly gotten to

know my schedule and was waiting. I didn't look directly at the window, and

just headed up the stairs to the studio. I walked in without knocking.

    Chris was just pulling on a pair of shorts; obviously he'd preferred to

be nude as he watched me get blown. He froze, his hands on the button of his

shorts, fear and lust mixed in his eyes. "I couldn't find any cocksuckers at

the beach today," I said, shoving down the waistband of my swim suit and

hauling out my thick, uncut rod. "But I knew you want to suck my cock."

    Wordlessly, he shook his head but his eyes were on my meat. "Suck cock.

Eat cum," I told him. "It's what you want." As I repeated the words I'd

been programming into his mind, I saw his crotch begin to swell. I took a

step toward him, hefting my rod. "Every time you watched somebody go down on

me, you wished it was you. Now's your chance."

    I reached out and grabbed his wrist. He flinched but there was no

resistance as I drew his hand toward my cock, and in six inches away, he

opened his fingers and reached for me. I let him feel my cock lying heavy in

his hand. "That's right," I told him, "I know you're a cocksucker. Suck

cock, eat cum."

    "I never...." he whispered as he began stroking me.

    "Doesn't matter," I told him. "You want it. You want to suck on it. You

want to taste my cum and swallow it. Don't you?"

    He nodded.

    "Say it," I said. "Say you want to suck my cock."

    He dropped to his knees. A good move, but I had to reinforce his

conditioning if I was going to take this kid where I wanted him. I jerked my

cock out of his hand. He whimpered.

    "You have to say it. You have to say, ‘I am a cocksucker,' before you

can suck cock. You want it don't you?"

    "Yes," he said, a little more clearly than anything else so far.

    "So that makes you a cocksucker. Admit it."

    I slapped his face with my cock and he lunged for it, but I pushed him

away.

    "Say you're a cocksucker and then you can have it."

    "I'm a cocksucker," he groaned, and I began to give him what he wanted.

    Over the next week I reinforced Chris's training everyday with a new

requirement. First, he could only suck my cock if he swore he wouldn't beat

off, which meant he didn't cum for five days straight. Second, he had to call

me "stud" whenever we were alone. Third, he had to shave his body everyday,

which was really just for the purpose of adding another control ritual for

when I wasn't around. Fourth, I made him tell me each time we began about all

the guys he had seen the day before whose cocks he had wanted to suck, Fifth,

he had to begin our sessions by sucking on my fingers, so that he could show

me how hungry he was. Sixth, on the day I finally let him cum for the first

time, I made him smear his own jizz into his asshole. And seventh, after he

swallowed my load, he would beg me to write the word "cocksucker" on his

chest with a magic marker (which meant that he stopped going to the beach).

    After a second, full week of this, the kid was mine. He looked at me with

a mixture of adoration and fear that he would somehow win my disapproval. He

was doing yardwork in the afternoons, and dropping to give me fifty push-ups

on command. I asked him if he wanted to go back to the way things were

before, and he started to cry.

    The kid was working six days a week, and finally, on one of his days off,

I put him in the car and headed up the coast to Shade Bar. My old buddy Vern

had a tattoo parlor up there and we pulled into the lot around lunch time.

I'd been telling him all the way up that he was a good cocksucker and he was

so goddam happy about it that he didn't seem to notice that his hardon was

leaking precum into his short. Now, I said, I was going to buy him a tattoo

and he should look through Vern's photo albums to pick something out.

    Vern Caldwell was the first guy I ever fucked. I was sixteen, he was

twenty two and already an accomplished bottom. He grinned as I walked into

his shop, still looking good in his early forties, a tall, rangy bastard with

red hair. His eyes took in Chris and his smile widened. After we chatted

for a few minutes, I called Chris over and introduced him to Vern. As they

shook hands I said, "Chris here is an A-one cocksucker."

    I could feel the heat coming off the kid as he blushed. Casually, I lay

my arm across his shoulder and dangled my hand in front of his face. "You

should see Vern's cock, Chris. A cocksucker like you would really love to

suck Vern's cock."

    Vern laughed a little nervously as I went on. "You see any men whose

cocks you wanted to suck today, cocksucker?" I ran a finger lightly across

Chris's lips, giving him the signal that he should be ready. Chris tried to

suck it in, but I pulled away. "Answer me, cocksucker."

    "Vern's," he panted.

    Vern's mouth was open in surprise, but as soon as I suggested he lock up

while we excused ourselves to the back room, he agreed. I stuck a finger in

Chris's mouth and led him to the room where Vern worked. He was sucking on my

hand like there was no tomorrow and I had to turn his head with my other hand

so that he could see that Vern had dropped his pants to reveal his thick cock

standing straight out from the red hair of his groin.

    This was Chris's first cock from another man, and I guided his head down

to it. "Suck cock. Eat cum," I told him. He impaled him mouth on Vern's

dick immediately.

    I knew Vern well enough to understand that as fascinated as he was by

Chris's behavior, once he was getting blown he would be ready for anything. I

stood behind him and used the finger Chris had been sucking on to finger

Vern's ass. "Fuck yeah," he grunted and without much further ado, I was

fucking him while Chris bobbed up and down on his rod.

    When Vern reached down to pull up Chris's tight t-shirt, he swore as he

saw what I'd been writing on the boy's chest.

    "He's a cocksucker, isn't he?" I said. Chris moaned around Vern's cock.

"Every cock he sucks makes him want another."

    So after we finished and Vern had tattooed a length of chain around

Chris's right bicep, it was an easy step. The boy had been sucking my fingers

eagerly while Vern worked, and he was still hard as a rock in his shorts.

"Let's make that permanent," I said, pointing to the word "cocksucker" on

Chris's chest. "You want that, cocksucker?"

    He moaned. Vern took it for an assent. And so it was done.

    In the car on the way home, the kid was silent. I was pretty pleased with

the way his training was coming along. and I told him he'd done good. He

smiled, but it was a soft, quiet smile, not the kind I usually got when I

praised him.

    "What's on your mind, boy?"

    "How come you never do that to me, stud?"

    What hadn't I done to him? "What do you want, cocksucker?"

    "I wanna get fucked too, stud. Like Vern and that guy on the deck. Why

don't you fuck me?"

    This was too good an opportunity to pass by. "Don't you like being a

cocksucker? Shit, boy, I just paid good money to put it right there on your

chest that you're a cocksucker. If you're tired of it already, you can go

back to pussy."

    "No!" he almost shouted. He twisted in his seat so that he was facing me.

He looked desperate, but determined. "I can't even think about anything else

but cock, stud. At work, on the way home, I see these guys and I want to get

in their pants and suck their cum out of their dicks. But, Jesus Christ,

stud, wouldn't you like it too? I wanna make your cock feel good any way I

can, and you liked it with those other guys."

    "Alright," I said, like I was making a big concession. "I'll think about

it, cocksucker." And that seemed to settle him down.

    That night, because he'd been such a good cocksucker, I let Chris beat

off after he'd blown me. He lay on his back on the deck in the moonlight and

threw his legs back so I could see his hole while he pounded his meat. It

was a tight little bud in a smooth, muscular ass. I got up and stood over

him, my cock pointing down. I squeezed the base and forced a last drop of

cum out of the head. It dropped down and hit just below his balls. He moaned

and shot in great panting heaves. When he began to move his hand to gather

up his jizz and smear it into his ass, I stopped him with a command.

    Now I knelt beside him and began gathering up his juice in my hand.

Gently I began to working it into his asshole with a finger. "A good

cocksucker isn't always a good fuck," I told him softly. "Boys who get their

asses fucked aren't just cocksuckers, they're faggots. Cocksuckers will do

anything to swallow cum, but faggots want cum in their asses. They want big

hard dicks inside them, pumping them full of cum."

    "I wanna be a faggot," Chris said.

    So I made him one.

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