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Powerhouse Conversions

Category: Gay Male
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Falling flat on my face was not the greatest way to start off the evening but there you have it. I was unpacking taped cardboard boxes in my newly rented apartment. Such a hassle.

“How’s it going?”

Someone had stepped inside. I forgot I had left the front door open. He was a very big man, somewhere around 6’2 wearing all leather. Quite intimidating actually but he was smiling and seemed friendly.

“You must be the new neighbor.” He had a deep husky voice.

“Yeah, I started moving in today.” My voice was much softer.

“That’s quite a lot of stuff you got there.” He said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. Red flags went up and I began to feel a bit nervous. I wasn’t very tough at all. Never experienced a fist fight in my life. Plus, I was only 5’7 with a very slender body. No more than 130.

“Need any help with anything?” He asked me.

“Oh, no. I’ll be just fine.” I answered with a nervous, dimpled smile.

He kind of chuckled a bit. “Tell ya what. I’m gonna be ordering a large pizza later tonight. Why don’t you come on over and have a few slices with me?” There was something strange about the look in his eyes as he glared at me. Like I better not say no.

“Sure. I, I guess that would be ok.”

“7 O’clock. Don’t be late.”

“That sounds fine.” I answered.

He took a few steps towards me. “That should be ‘Yes Sir’ Don’t you agree?”

Red flags went up again but I was so nervous and intimidated I just blurted it out. “Yes, Sir.”

He stepped back and smiled. “Now doesn’t that feel better?”

I felt much more comfortable with him smiling so I just repeated myself without thinking. “Yes, Sir.”

“7 O’clock. Right?”

“Yes.” I replied.

He stepped towards me again with that glare in his eyes.

I quickly corrected myself. “Yes, Sir.”

“Apartment 4D, don’t be late.” And with that, he left.

Well, that was awkward. But still, I had to admit it would be nice to have a few new friends in the area. I didn’t know anyone around here. I continued unpacking for the next few hours. At 6:30 I took a shower and got dressed casually in jeans, a T shirt and sneakers. All this work built up quite an appetite and pizza sure did sound good right now. I stepped into the hallway, locked my door and walked down toward his apartment. “Let’s see. 6D, 5D, here we go, 4D.” I knocked on the door. There was some sort of metallic symbol bolted above the peep hole with the engraving ‘Powerhouse Conversions’ which I was admiring when the door suddenly swung open.

Once again he stood there towering over me. “Right on time. Come on in.” He said with a beer in his hand.

The nervousness reappeared but I stepped past him and entered the main room. I heard the sound of several dead bolts click behind me.

“Have a seat.” He pointed at a large flat pillow on the floor right in front of a large leather chair. He gently but firmly pushed me forward a bit. “The pillow is soft and warm.”

The television was on and the smell of Italian food swirled in the air. I guess he was like a hippy or something with the whole pillow thing so why not. I sat down indian style facing the TV which had a football game in already in progress.

“Hey.” He said in a stern voice. “Face the chair so we can have a conversation.”

I looked up at him standing over me and could see the seriousness in his face. Red flags went up again but I remembered the dead bolts being locked. Slowly I turned and faced the chair.

He smiled and became relaxed again. “Good boy.” He sat down in the chair with his legs spread wide. “I guess it’s time to eat. Why don’t you grab me a couple slices of pie and I got a small salad for you.”

“A salad?” I was starving. A small salad would do nothing for me.

“Well, you want to keep that slender body looking good don’t you?”

I laughed a bit. “It’s just how I am naturally. I don’t really . . .”

“Hey!” he cut me off while pointing his finger at me. “Answer correctly.”

I kind of froze in terror. He looked like he was about to beat the hell out of me. “Now. I’ll ask you again. Don’t you want to keep that slender body looking feminine the way it is?”

I knew how he wanted me to answer and I was so scared I couldn’t even stop myself. “Y, Yes, Sir.”

“Oh come on,” he sat back with a half smile. “You can do better than that. Say it with a softer voice like a sissy would.” He took a sip of his beer with his eyes glued to mine.

As best I could I gave it a try. “yess, sir.”

He placed the beer on a table next to the chair and put his arms behind his head. “That’s much more like it.” He paused. “Don’t you agree . . . Sissy?”

His posture was much less threatening which I very much preferred so I just went along with it. “Yes, Sir.”

“It makes you sound more feminine and faggy don’t you think?”

I had to agree but that didn’t mean I cared for it. I just didn’t want to see his mean side any more. He was the only person I knew in this new town and the last thing I needed was someone who disliked me.

“Do you agree you sound more faggy this way?” He asked again.

I looked up from the pillow. “Yes, Sir.”

He pushed back in the chair to make himself more comfortable. “Go get me some slices, Fag.” He said with a chuckle.

I guess he was just kidding around so I giggled and just let it go.

“Plates are on the top shelf, Fag.”

“Okay.” I started to stand up when he leaned forward again with a serious but not entirely threatening look. “How do you answer me, Fag?”

I quickly remembered. “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“Much better, Faggot.” Now get me my food.

Damn, he was demanding. Defiantly the Alpha Male type. Quite the opposite of me. I got up, walked into the kitchen, grabbed the pizza and salad, two plates and some utensils then headed back to the main room. Something was different though. There were three pairs of high heels next to the pillow. All the same color. Pink. He cracked open a new beer. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“I, well.” I was so confused.

“Size 8, right?”

“Size seven actually but I . . .”

“The pair in the middle. Try them on. I bet they would look good on you.”

I just stood there stunned. “I . . .”

He leaned forward and gritted his teeth. “Give me my food and try them on.”

I don’t know what it was but his commanding voice seemed to dictate my behavior over my better reasoning. I leaned down and picked up the middle pair.

“Actually, To make it work better.” He paused to drink from his beer. “Go into the bathroom and shave your legs.”

I just stared at him like how could you possibly be asking me to do this.

He stood up with his fists clenched. “Now, Faggot.” And just like a lemming following marching orders I went into the bathroom and shut the door. This is crazy. My mind began to come back to me again. This is friggin’ crazy. Then the weirdest thing happened. Somewhere deep inside I was curious to see what I would look like. And the way he was. His behavior. Pushing me forward. I didn’t really have much choice anyways. Several items were neatly spread out on the sink counter. A girls pink razor, some shaving lotion and . . . some clothing. I was then startled by the door opening. He stood there looking somewhat drunk. “Shave everywhere. From the neck down.” He slammed the door shut. That fear inside me took over again and before I knew it I had taken off all my clothes and was in the shower lathering up. My face, arm pits, privates and legs were shaved in no time flat. It felt so weird and different but kind of nice too. Touching my smooth legs was odd but they felt quite nice. I got out, toweled myself off and looked at the clothes on the counter. A very short pair of daisy dukes and a pink low cut tank top.

“Let’s go, Faggot.” His voice boomed making me go on tip toes.

I quickly put on the shorts and hiked them up. They sure were tight. Next was the tank top which I had to struggle with. It was so small but eventually fit around my small chest. I sat down and after a few tries I was able to get the heels on right. When I stood up I was in for the shock of my life. My reflection in the mirror. Wow, was I really this tiny? My ribs were very visible and the tank top really accentuated my thin arms. I had mixed emotions of shame and something else. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. That’s when the bathroom door opened again and he stood there staring at me. I felt like blushing. It was just awful. He walked over and stood behind me while looking into the mirror. I just stared at the ground feeling totally embarrassed. Even in 5 inch high heels he still towered over me. He grabbed my waist and positioned me directly in front of the mirror. “Look up.”

I hesitated.

“I said look up, Faggot.” His stern voice growled as he squeezed my waist tighter. I immediately did so. My body was so small in front of his. I nearly collapsed when I saw how much my blush was beaming. He bent to the side and ran his hand down my legs. It felt so good. He ran his hand back up my leg and over my ass and back to my waist again. I could see him looking at me in the mirror. “You sure are a little Faggot aren’t you?”

I could tell he was waiting for a response. “Yes, Sir.” Only this time it came out so soft and faggy without my even trying. He pushed his thumbs forward tilting me so my ass stuck out a bit.

“I get turned on by little Faggots like you.”

A sudden pulse raced through my body and I dropped my jaw, eyes widened. I couldn’t even speak.

He moved his hands up my sides and around to my chest. “Does that feel good, Faggot.”

I couldn’t answer. I was in a state of total shock. He pinched my nipples and moved his hands down to my ass again. “Go kneel down on the pillow.” He patted my ass several times pushing me out into the main room. My first few steps were more like wobbles but soon I got the hang of the heels. It was amazing how my legs tightened as I walked. I started to sit down but then remembered he said ‘Kneel’ which actually would probably be more comfortable anyways. As soon as I was in position he reached around from behind and placed something around my neck.

Before I realized what it was he locked it in place. A dog collar. Then a leash was attached which he held in his hand. I felt something metalic clasp around my wrist. Then my other wrist. I was handcuffed. He sat back down in the chair with his legs spread wide and grabbed the remote with his free hand. He tugged on the leash jerking me forward.

“Lick my boots, Faggot.” He said while flipping through the channels. He took off his shirt and watched some movie. Another jerk of the leash and my face was on the floor, my ass up high. “Spread you knees apart, Fag.” WACK! He slapped my ass with a riding crop. The pain instinctively forced me to place my tongue on his boot which was very difficult with my hands cuffed behind my back. WACK! I let out a little squeak and ran my tongue all the way up his boot, then quickly to his other boot. I couldn’t believe he was making me do this. WACK! “I want them polished to perfection, Faggot.” I worked every crack and crevice running my tongue inch by inch up and down the dark leather. And then something clicked. I was enjoying it. His masculinity, his confidence, commanding attitude. I didn’t even know his name. Once I was finished with the leather I began working on the laces.

“Okay Fag. Now let’s see what you’ve really got.” He grabbed my hair and pulled me upright. I was on my knees staring up into his eyes as he unzipped his pants. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t terrified. A bit nervous perhaps but mostly I was in a state of submissive lust. If my hands weren’t cuffed I probably would have reached in and grabbed his cock. But instead he decided to tease me.

“You know what’s next don’t you, Fag?”

“Yes, Sir.” I answered in such a sissy voice.

“What do you think is next, Fag?”

“You are going to force me to suck your cock.”


“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” I looked down.

“And after you suck my cock what does that make you?”

I looked back up with a confused expression.

“Would that make you a cock sucker?” He asked satirically.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What kind of a cock sucker?”

Again I looked at him with confusion.

“Would that make you a cock sucking faggot?”

“Yes, Sir.” I looked at the ground again with embarrassment.

“Say it.” He commanded.

I looked back up again, blushing.

“Tell me what you are.” He pulled his rock hard cock out of his pants.

“A cock sucking faggot, Sir.”

He grabbed my head and pulled me to the tip of his cock. I just reacted, no thought whatsoever. My lips grabbed the tip and he sat back to enjoy the show. Still cuffed, I had to lean forward carefully and as I did gravity got the better of me. His cock was completely impaled in my mouth and down my throat. I couldn’t breathe.

“That’s it.” He said as he tilted his head back and grabbed the back of my head. I squirmed and gagged and frantically gasped for air but he held me down. He was dominant and aggressive but he wasn’t stupid. After a few seconds he lifted me up bringing me back to life. I instantly felt safe and secure and took his cock back in my mouth willingly, wantonly. Moans and sighs came from the pit of my soul as I realized there was nothing for me to fear from this man as long as I obliged any command he ordered. Up and down ever so gently. My lips pulling on every nerve ending in his shaft. I wanted him to feel complete pleasure. I wanted to please him. I wanted him. Gentle tongue swirls caressed his tip and underside followed by a plunge down to his balls. My eyes on his as if to say You Own Me. My heart was racing, my lips working, my passion set ablaze. And his smile. That smile of his. He was enjoying it. I loved seeing him that way. It made me go wild. My lips and tongue worked in conjunction with the precision of a well oiled off-shore drilling rig. He was tensing up. He loved it. I was relentless. Not out of spite. Pure ecstasy. This man who I only met a few hours ago had completely changed my life. For the better. For the wonderful. And then it happened. He grabbed my shoulders with tremendous force. His entire body jerked and shook. Explosion. I swallowed as much as I could. The rest dripped down. I didn’t even consider the ‘Taste’, it was irrelevant. All these years being on my own I always had this fear within me. Having to stand up for myself, defend myself, worry about this person or that person or whoever might try to harm me. Here I was safe. I was protected. I continued pleasing him until he finally sat up and pushed me back. He stood to his feet and and looked down upon me.

“You did very well, Fag.” He said with that wonderful smile as he zipped up his pants and buckled his belt. “Tomorrow is spare ribs night. 7 O’clock. Don’t be late.”

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