*--*  Qmodem Capture File  04/26/90 18:51:19  *--*



04/26 17:52 11/1428min  FETISH/FANTASY Board (#4)
What next? v bill.txt


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                              BILL 
 
                          By Luke Owens 
 
     Portland can be a boring town.  Sometimes. 
     I was home on leave from the Navy and had gone out to Dahl 
and Penne's one Friday night (the Cell hadn't opened yet, this 
being only 1977).  I was 21 and wearing my uniform, so I was 
getting lots of attention, most of which I didn't want.  Then 
Bill came up and told me I was coming home with him. 
     Now Bill wasn't a prettyboy, but he was the hottest man I 
have ever seen.  He was wearing a khaki cop uniform and filled 
it out better than most cops I have seen. I couldn't see his 
eyes because he was wearing mirrored sunglasses, but that only 
made his fantasy image hotter.  I was not only turned on by his 
looks, but by his assurance that I would take his orders without 
question.  This was what I had been looking for!  We went to his 
place. 
     When we got to his place, Bill put me through my paces 

Press [ENTER] to continue; N for nonstop; or K for main menu: 
after a short talk. 
     "I ain't into no lovey-dovey crap," he told me.  "If I 
wanted that, I would've picked up a drag queen or somethin'. By 
accepting me, you've placed yourself under my orders and agreed 
to follow them without hesitation or question.  Understood?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!" I shouted, just like at boot camp. 
     "Good.  Strip and put your uniform on that chair." 
     I neatly folded my uniform and put it on the chair he had 
pointed to.  When I turned to face him, he was no more than six 
inches from me, holding something made of leather.  It was a 
hood with laces up the back.  He handed it to me and told me to 
put it on. 
     He made sure the hood was on right before he laced up the 
back and tied it down firmly.  Then he put another piece of 
leather over the eyepieces and it snapped on, blocking off my 
vision.  He then put my wrists into a pair of handcuffs and 
locked them behind my back. 
     "We won't bother with the gag until I decide you need it. 
And you will," he said with a grin I could hear, even though I 
couldn't see it. 
     He forced me down to my knees and pushed me down to his 
boots and ordered me to lick them.  I obeyed eagerly, boots 
being one of my favorite things.  I love the taste and smell of 
polished leather and get a raging hard-on just looking at a nice 
pair of boots or even thinking about them.  I'm not so turned on 
by the soles, but it's all part of the scene, so when Bill 
lifted the boots for me to clean the soles, I did.  When I was 
done with that, I took the toe of his boot into my mouth and 
sucked on it like it was a hot cock.  He laughed with surprise. 
     "Shit, you sure like my boots, don't ya, boy?" 
     I mumbled indistinctly through my full mouth, unwilling to 
give up that wonderful leather. 
     He hit me on top of my head, hard.  It didn't really hurt, 
because of the hood, but it sure got my attention. 
     "When I ask you a question, boy, you stop what you're doin' 
and answer me!  Got that?" 
     Reluctantly I pulled away from his boot. 
     "Yes, Sir.  I'm sorry, Sir, it won't happen again." 
     "Sorry ain't gonna get your ass fucked, boy.  I'm gonna 
have to punish you so you'll remember.  I'm gonna shave you." 
     I started begging him not to; I didn't want the guys on my 
ship to see me without any hair on my body.  I was promising to 
be good; to do anything Bill wanted me to, as long as he didn't 
shave me. 
     I should have saved my breath; all I got for my begging was 
a gag that snapped to the hood just like the blindfold. 
     He fastened some kind of collar around my neck and put a 
leash on it.  I was ordered to my knees and told not to get up 
from them until I was given permission.  Then Bill started 
jerking on the leash and I had to follow him on my knees. 
     I heard a door open and felt a cool gust of air hit my 
body.  I balked and Bill jerked the leash harder, but I kept 
fighting him; I didn't want to be seen like that from the 
street. 
     "Get your ass out here, kid," he growled.  "Ain't nobody 
gonna see ya.  We're just goin' to the garage through the back 
yard and that's fenced in."  With that he gave a mighty jerk on 
the leash and I fell out the door. 
     I managed to get back to my knees, no small feat without 
the use of my hands, and Bill kept pulling on that leash the 
whole time like he didn't care if I was following under my own 
power or not. 
     He got me into the garage and closed the door.  I heard him 
flip a switch and then he led me to the far wall and told me to 
stand up.  He pushed me over to where he wanted me and I felt 
him putting some kind of restraints on my ankles.  Then he undid 
the handcuffs and put my wrists, one at a time, into restraints 
that held my arms up over my head. 
     He took the collar off my neck and removed the hood, 
replacing the gag with another that didn't need a hood.  It was 
a leather band that went around my head and held my mouth open. 
I wasn't sure what that accomplished, but figured I'd find out 
later.  Boy, was I right about that! 
     He held up a straight razor in front of my face.  I'd never 
seen one before and the way the light glinted off it, I was sure 
I didn't want him to use it on me.  I couldn't do anything about 
it if he did, though. 
     "You see how sharp this is, boy?  You better hold still 
because I bet you don't want to lose your balls or somethin'.  I 
want you smooth and I want you to watch what I'm doin'.  We'll 
both enjoy it more that way." 
     With that, he started shaving my left pit.  He wasn't using 
any kind of soap or shaving cream or whatever, just the razor. 
It felt like he was sandpapering my pit. 
     Obeying his order, I watched as the hair came off my pit. 
I was kind of scared about what people would say when they saw 
me without any hair, but I was also turned on by what was 
happening; my dick told me that. 
     Bill's dick was just as hard as mine was, but he had more 
than I did, if the bulge in his pants was any gauge.  He was 
still wearing his cop uniform, right down to the mirrored 
shades, and looked so hot I thought I would die from wanting 
him. 
     But he kept right on shaving me from the neck down.  It 
took a long time, but he was patient and got the job done.  When 
he had finished, he took the gag out of my mouth and stood there 
expectantly for a few minutes.  Not knowing what he wanted, I 
looked down at my denuded body.  It looked just like a kid's, 
not a hair to be seen.  It was ugly, but somehow exciting at the 
same time.  The only reason I didn't get a hard-on was that I 
had had one all through the scene. 
     Finally he grabbed me by the hair on my head. 
     "Since you're not thanking me, I'll assume you want more 
taken off." 
     With that, he put the gag back in my mouth and walked off. 
When he came back, he was carrying a pair of scissors. I 
realized right then that he intended to shave my head.  I felt 
my eyes grow wide and shook my head violently. 
     "Too late, boy.  You had your chance to thank me; now it's 
gonna cost you your hair for not doing it!" 
     He started cutting my hair with the scissors until it was 
short enough to shave.  That didn't take long, since I wore a 
regulation cut.  It felt strange being completely hairless.  The 
air was both hot and cold against the areas Bill had shaved. 
     This time, when he took the gag out, I was sure to thank 
him profusely for the shaving and the lesson.  I sure didn't 
want my eyebrows taken off, too! 
     He didn't sSir!"  Then I had a thought.  "Permission to 
speak, Sir!" 
     "Granted.  What's on your mind, boy?" 
     "Sir, may my next drink be warm, Sir?" 
     He grabbed me by the back of the hood and tilted my head 
up. 
     "You sure about that, boy?" 
     "Sir, yes, Sir!" I shouted eagerly. 
     "Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered.  He unzipped his pants 
and shoved his cock in my mouth.  "Just remember, you asked for 
this, boy!" 
     His piss flooded my mouth and I drank it as though it was 
going out of style.  It tasted just like warm beer and I loved 
it.  His reminder that I had asked for it wasn't needed; I had 
done this before and was a big fan of recycled beer.  Evidently 
Bill was used to guys who hadn't done anything of this type 
before and had to be forced. 
     When h