This choice: "-make you like Buck over there. He was even smaller than you at the start." • Go Back...Chapter #5Service Providers by: oldshep   Originally by: H. M.  on Muscle Growth: Go Nuts Guys
The goat smiles, his teeth glinting from the neon lights outside. "What if I told you I could make you like Buck over there. He was even smaller than you at the start."
You didn't even have to think of a response to that claim. "Bullshit."
The goat smiles, his hand scratching the whiskers on his chin the way an academic ponders his latest theory. "Ah, but you're wrong, pumpkin. Poor Buck there was the runt of his family and of his school, a product of a bad environment and bad genes. Poor thing could barely walk on his own feet when I took him in six months ago. Street living became a lot tougher when the steel mill shut down. Now he has his own place, his own car, and me makes more money than he could have ever dreamed of. " His eyes have a distinctly conniving quality...Machiavellian, even.
He walks over to you, and pushes you into a chair next to the bed, with its sleeping giant. "Come on...I know a lot more about you than you think, pumpkin. You want your ex and kid back, right? You want to be big and strong, right?" He was goading you now. You glare at him, too angry and afraid to respond.
"You see, every client has a different preference. Buck here, he's in high demand, but he's preferred by a clientele with more...brutish tastes. Now, it's not worth changing his appearance for every whim, but if the market is big enough, then maybe I should just take a new gentlemen under my employ." The way that he was describing this, like a business with markets and customer preferences, it was creepy. Something that you had always acknowledged to yourself, but still, really creepy to hear out loud. You didn't dare make a break for it, because you were pretty sure Charlie could knock you out, assuming Buck didn't wake up first.
"I can do it for you, pumpkin. How many chances like this are you going to get? You can either take my offer, or you can go back to that shitty apartment you rent and pity-jerk yourself to sleep. What do you have to lose?" Not like he was giving you much of a choice.
"And just what exactly were you thinking of doing to me for your clientele?" The black goat smiles, that creepy smile raising your hackles again. "Well, now we're talking, Pumpkin."
Your ears flatten. "Don't call me 'Pumpkin'." The goat frowns and cocks a brow at you. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you. And in this business, it's not good practice to use your real name...things have a habit of being used against when you do." He smiles as he says your full name, syllable by syllable. It was alarming how much he already seemed to know. Did he scout you out? Or was there something otherworldly to him?
"Let's make two rules clear, Pumpkin. One, you will pay 30% of your earnings to me, and you always do what I tell you. If I tell you to pay a client a visit, you do it. It I tell you to tease them, to keep your hands off, or to fuck them raw, you do it, every morning, every night. You will work out on my orders, you will travel on my orders, and if I tell you to strip naked in front of city hall, you'll do it on my orders." You shift uncomfortably, the proverbial iron manacle tightening around you.
"Second, you are junior to Buck here. If Buck wants a workout partner, you will do it. If Buck needs a ride, you give it to him. And if Buck wants a no-strings fuck up your tight little ass, you'll give it to him with a smile. The only person who takes precedent over Buck is me. Got it?" You nod silently.
Charlie places a firm grip on your bony shoulder. Christ, he had a grip like a vice. "Pumpkin, you're what I like to call a blank slate. You're pretty young and you have lots of potential. There are a lot of customers who would love to be escorted by a classy Lothario, or a moonlit night on the beach with an All-American Jock. Maybe they just want a call boy-next-door. It's just a matter of finding what feels like the best fit for you. and of course, we'll be growing you up in size...in more places than one," he says as he slides a hand over your limp and lackluster manhood." You want to push him off and run, but you find yourself hesitating to do so.
You rattle out an answer as he feels you up. "Yo-you can't do that. It doesn't work that way." The goat chuckles condescendingly. "Oh how little you know, Pumpkin. The right methods, the right work...and you too just might end up as big and buff as good ol' Buck here." The muscle-bound donkey was still sleeping on the bed, off in a world of his own. "C'mon kitty, you know I have what you need. Come under my wing, and we'll make you the most beautiful stud-for-hire this land's ever known." His words drip with a saccharine sweetness, a cunning master of the art of negotiation. You swallow as you nod, feeling the last vestiges of your personal freedom slip away.
The goat pulls you back up. The way he was built, hell, you wouldn't have a problem if you only grew to his size. And from the strained crotch of his pants, you could tell he was well-blessed himself. You couldn't help but ogle him just a little bit in the dim light of the room. "Oh no Pumpkin, I like my service providers big, strong and experienced. We have some work to do."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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