Losing Control, Gaining Acceptance
#3 of What Are Friends For?
Jake spent the rest of the day brainstorming ideas for Mike's 'Training Room', writing his thoughts down in as detailed a manner as possible so that there could be no doubt as to his exacting specifications. Miles had told him he had free run of the place, and that anything the Clydesdale needed the Agency would provide. The horse decided to call the man on his bluff, and started requesting the most ridiculous training items he could think of: A refrigerator with a self-lubricating flesh-light instead of a handle, that the Doberman would have to fuck for fifteen strokes before it would open itself, prior to re-locking. A huge high-def TV that once turned on, couldn't be turned off again until 30 minutes had passed, and no matter what channel it was set to there would always be a hardcore bi-sexual threesome porno playing in the bottom-right corner, picture-in-picture style. Several pieces of exercise equipment that all had a butt plug standing upright exactly where the person would normally be sitting. At least on the pieces where it made sense to do so. In addition to his other requirements, Jake asked for high-def, night vision cameras to be placed around the room, which would constantly record every square inch of the space, but be so well hidden that the Doberman would never know they were there. The only exception to this was the bathroom, which the horse requested be in the center of the room and have plastic, see-through walls, along with five very obvious cameras pointing at the shower and toilet from various angles. Finally, he requested that a large bookshelf be brought in and filled with lots of man-on-man romance novels, preferably ones where the main character eventually found fulfillment in submitting to his authoritative, but caring, lover.
Jake was of course expecting his patently ridiculous requests to be rejected, so that he could tell Miles 'Well, in that case, never mind. We'll just let Mike stay in my apartment.' Instead, what he found when he woke up the following morning was that the work has already been completed while he had been asleep. Not believing the cheetah's claims initially, he demanded to see the room for himself. Sure enough, the young college student walked through the impressively sized Training Room in an awed state of shock. Everything he had jokingly solicited was right there in front of him, and much more. Even the center-room bathroom and shower had been installed, the facilities entirely visible behind their transparent walls. Though the Agency had thought it through even further than the Clydesdale had -- the cameras in and around the bathroom protected by clear containers. Likely in case Tiny tried to damage or disable any of them in a fit of anger. The result of this feat of engineer was clear. If the Doberman wanted to use the toilet, he was going to have to accept that any number of people could be watching him.
Finally, there were a couple more items that, while they had skipped Jake's mind, were not overlooked by whoever had been charged with making this kinky vision a reality. A king-sized bed with sturdy, but comfortable looking, hand and leg restraints, and a heavy-duty metallic man-sized cage, that had none of the comforts of the rest of the room.
Walking around the room, Jake caught the cheetah watching his reactions -- the business man's gleeful expression clear to the horse. "I can't believe it... this is just... holy fuck."
"Glorious, isn't it? I told you that the Chief Overseer position came with perks. As Tiny's legal guardian, you get to decide what's right for him. Want a masseuse to come in and give him an hour long, but ultimately unfullfilling, handjob every day? You got it. How about getting to watch the pup figure out that his cock can go off at any random moment of the day, without the slightest bit of warning. Pretty embarrassing for him, I would imagine. Particularly if at that moment his cock just happened to be pointing at his chest and face. You set the rules here, Jake."
"This is just so... out there, you know? I mean, I realize I asked for this, and you're going to think I'm full of shit for saying it, but I never in a million years thought you guys would actually do any of this. Not for real."
"We aim to please, Mr. Parker. Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?"
"Yea... can you get Tiny?"
Miles' only response was his one-of-a-kind grin.
Michael's expression was almost unreadable as he slowly made his way around the room, Jake trailing a few feet behind him.
"I know it's a lot to take in, Mike. I was just as surprised as you were. And when I heard about the restroom, I tried to get them to change it, but they weren't having in any of it. I got them to throw in a high-def TV for you, though. It should get all the sports channels."
"This is just... too much, man. I don't think I can handle this. What the hell is that thing sticking out of the fridge?"
"Uhhh, I think it's a flesh-light."
"Well why the fuck is a flesh-light sticking out of the fridge!?"
"Sorry, I forgot to ask. I don't see a handle on it though... maybe that's how you open it?"
"You're telling me some twisted freak decided that I needed to pound the fridge to be able to get a glass of milk?"
"I don't know for sure, bro. Try it out."
"What!? Fuck no, dude. You try it out."
"Mike, I hate drawing a line in the sand, but I told you yesterday that if you wanted me to stick around, that meant doing what I said. And right now, I'm telling you to fuck the fridge. You don't have to feel embarrassed about it -- I understand that in a normal situation you would never do something like that. But this isn't a normal situation. I don't want you to feel like I'm walking over you, or ignoring your opinions, but while you and I are working our way through this mess, you need to take my lead. Besides, you're going to get hungry sooner or later. Isn't it better to put your dick into the fridge because you decided to, rather than being forced to because you were starving?"
Jake could tell that the Doberman was so angry he was practically fuming. For a moment, it really looked like he was going to tell the horse off. But in the end, after half a minute of deep breathes and clenched fists, the dog's shoulders finally slumped in surrender. Slowly dragging his feet to the fridge, it took the slave longer than was probably strictly neccisary before he was standing in front of the fridge -- flesh-light attachment conveniently at crotch level for the perpetually-erect youth. After starring at the hole for a while like it might turn out to be a wasp's nest, Michael finally let himself sink into the device, his hips pushing his little-over-four-inches of dog cock forward until he was as far in as he could go.
"It's not workin'."
"Try fucking it. I'll tell you when to stop, if nothing happens."
Jake saw the Doberman's shoulders tense up in indignation at the command before moving to obey. To the Clydesdale, it was an amazing sight. His best friend fucking a kitchen appliance because he had told him to. It made the horse feel powerful. Not to mention intensely turned-on.
Sure enough, fifteen thrusts later fridge door popped open with a slight hiss of depressurizing air.
"I don't believe it..." Michael said, dick still embedded in the plastic flesh-light.
"Hey, at least we know you won't go hungry."
The Doberman didn't have anything to say to that.
Coming up behind Mike, Jake hugged the dog with both arms from behind, forearms resting on his friend's chiseled pectoral muscles. Startled, Michael jumped slightly, before allowing himself to be held. After they stood there few a minute or two, the horse felt his put-upon friend relax into the embrace.
"Thank you, Mike. I know that it couldn't have been easy to do that. I want you to know... or, rather, it's important to me that you know that I respect you. I don't care if you're naked and horny all the time, or that you have to do embarrassing things because people tell you to. I admire you, and I value your friendship. We're in this together, okay?"
"... Yea. Thank you, bro... I really needed to hear that."
"You bet. And I mean it, too."
"Hey, Jake...?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you find out anything about what they... did to me?"
"Yea... you're not going to like what you hear, though."
"I already knew that. Just tell me. Please."
"I didn't understand everything the Doctor said because of the medical jargon he used, but it sounds like you won't be going soft any time soon. And it doesn't sound like it's something that's going to fix itself on its own. But he also said it wasn't damaged or anything. It was just going to be, you know, stiff a lot. Or rather, the words he used were 'always turgid'."
Still hugging the Doberman from behind, Jake wasn't able to see the dog's reaction, other than a slight drooping of his head. "And the other thing? You know... getting off?"
"That part took some extra explaining from them for it to make sense to me. But I'll try and make it simpler for you. You know how your sack is bigger?"
"Yea...?"
"That's because they basically gave you a second pair of nuts, wrapped around the first pair. Remember that time you came, but it didn't feel like it usually does? That's because that second pair was shooting, rather than your own balls."
"Why would someone do that to me? I mean...fuck, man... just why?"
"They haven't shared everything with me yet, bud, but I'll keep asking until I get answers for you."
"Thanks, bro."
"No need to thank me, dude. I told you: we're in this together. And I meant it. Okay?"
"Yea. Okay. But, still. Thanks."
"No problem, man. There's a bit more, though. You ready to hear it?"
"Yea... I think."
"So, this is kind of a mixed bag -- good news and bad news. The good news is you're still able to cum. I mean, in a way that it feels like it should."
"... and the bad?"
"They have to use a remote control to allow it. Without a button on that control being pressed, you can't cum."
"That's the most fucked thing I've ever heard. You're telling me my dick is like a garage door now?"
"Well, more like your balls, but yea, basically."
"Well where the fuck is that control?"
"They still had it over at the hospital. I told them to drop it off in my room."
"Well, at least there's that. I was going a bit crazy, dude. I mean, I've been horny before, but this was on a whole new level."
"Mike... I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean to get your hopes up. Just because I have the controller doesn't mean that I'll be able to use it whenever I want."
"Well why the fuck not!"
"Because, every time I push that button, the device remembers and makes a log entry. A log entry that the Agency will be checking. They told me when they deliver the controller to me, they're also going to be dropping off a book where I'll have to make a note of every time I let you cum, as well as the reason. If I don't use the book, or if I don't write down a good reason, they take the controller away from me."
For a long minute the two friends stood there, silent. The quiet stillness was suddenly broken when Mike's fist hit the front of the fridge, hard, causing a surprisingly loud bang. "FUCK! Fuck these people! Fuck them!"
Arms still wrapped around the Doberman's chest, the horse felt his friend's deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to pull himself back together.
"Just... tell me what I have to do. You don't know what this is like... I spent two hours last night, just, you know, workin' it. I'm desperate, dude."
"They mentioned maybe you doing a photo shoot, sometime next week. If you want, I can have them bump that up to tomorrow. If you did it, I can guarantee you I'd be able to let you get off. But before you say anything, you have to know, it's going to be a porno shoot. With a couple of other people. A guy and a girl."
"Yea, okay, sure, fucking whatever. Tell them I'll do it."
"I'll tell them, Mike. But I'll tell you now, they're going to want it to be good. If you're pissed off the entire time and they think the photo shoot came out shitty, and then I let you cum anyway, I promise you they'll take the controller away from me for good. Are you going to be okay by tomorrow?"
"Yea... just, give me a day. It's just a lot to take in, you know?"
"You're telling me? I know it's a million times harder for you than it has been for me, but it isn't exactly easy being on this side of the fence either."
"Sorry man..."
"Don't be sorry. Just take care of yourself, okay? I'm still looking into your legal situation too, so don't give up hope yet."
And with that, Michael turned around, before squeezing the large Clydesdale in a suffocating bear hug, hard prick shamelessly pressing against the horse's crotch. "If you weren't here man... I don't know... I just don't know..."
"But I am here, and I'm not leaving you. Got it? Now go watch some TV or something. I got to call a lawyer."
Nodding, the slave reluctantly let his friend go, watching as the horse exited the Training Room using the thumb-print locked door.
When Jake got back to his room, he had originally intended to do just what he told Mike -- call a lawyer he knew. But that plan was forgotten the moment he stepped into his living room and noticed that his enormous TV was turned on. Looking at the screen, he realized he was watching the couch in Tiny's Training Room, from the perspective of the dog's own television.
From this angle, it looked like the Doberman was looking directly into the horse's eyes from the display, while slowly jacking himself off. Unable to resist the urge, the Clydesdale took off his pants and underwear before taking his own imposingly proportioned shaft in hand. Sitting on the couch in his luxury apartment, Jake saw what looked like a garage door opener on the coffee table, with a note card laying beside it that read 'For a show, flip the switch on the left and push the center button."
Feeling harder than he had ever been in his life, Jake followed the instructions, toggling the small knob on the side of the controller before pressing the center button with his thumb. Immediately, the screen in front of Jake became alive with a scene the youth would remember for the rest of his life: Mike's eyes shooting as wide as they could go in astonishment as huge streams of ejaculate fired out of his cock in every direction. The first one caught the Doberman directly in his open mouth, drenching his tongue and lips, while the rest of the shots went everywhere else -- his face, chest, arms, and stomach. Finally, Michael gained some control over his loose-cannon, directing the fire away from himself and onto the couch and floor.
Gripping his own rod, Jake soon followed suite to the outstanding display he had just witnessed -- drenching himself and the area around him with huge jets of cum. To the Clydesdale, it felt like the longest and most intense orgasm he had ever experienced.
Several deep breathes later, Jake finally forced himself to pay attention to the TV again. On it, Mike was still enthusiastically jacking his own arousal as fast as his beefy arm would move. Completely covered in spooge, the look on the dog's face was one of intense concretion, as if trying to will his small, disobedient cock to cum.
Still full mast, the horse started jerking his cock again, determined to match his buddy stroke for stroke. Fifteen minutes later, only one of the twenty-one year olds got to cum.
For Jake, the remaining hours in the day were spent figuring out how his television and computer interfaced with the live camera feeds coming from Mike's room.
Being an engineering student, he was quickly able to work out not only how to access all the various camera feeds, but also to program them to track movement so that no matter where the Doberman went in the room, the horse's TV always switched to the camera most optimal for keeping the slave in frame.
At one point, this meant watching the dog when he eventually was forced to use the restroom. Jake had the decency to blush as he watched his friend let loose a yellow stream of urine into the toilet. And when Michael set down so that he could continue to relieve himself, the Clydesdale found himself horrified, yet still unable to look away from the sight in front of him. What he was witnessing was an event that was only occurring because of decisions he had made. Decisions that he was completely responsible for. And while not turned on by the nauseatingly graphic images that were now appearing on his television screen, knowing that Mike only had as much or as little privacy as the horse allowed him was a frighteningly wondeful sensation. 'Who am I turning into? I would never have felt this way before coming here. Right?' Jake didn't have an easy answer as he watched the Doberman reach for the toilet paper.
Shaking his head to dispel the conflict that was raging in his mind, Jake grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen before sitting down at the kitchen table. If he was going to ask Miles to move the photo shoot to tomorrow, he wanted to be able to answer any question that the cheetah might have in regards to his plan. As the college student wrote down a general script for the next day's shoot, he realized he was actually pretty good at this, as much as he didn't care to admit it. 'If this turns out like I'm thinking it will, this is going to be fucking hot. Sorry Mike, but I'm going to make you work hard to earn that release. But if you enjoy being the star of this shoot half as much as I'll like shooting it, you'll be more than ready to get your nut.'
Finishing his notes, Jake reached for his phone.
"You sure I got to be dressed like this, man?"
"What are you talking about? You look, hot, bro."
Later that evening in the Training Room, and for the first time in days, Mike was dressed again. But not in what the Doberman would have described as anything close to his usual fare. Turning his head to face the dog, Jake again checked out his friend. Leather biker jacket. Too-tight white wife beater shirt that made each individual muscle stand out. Frayed, torn, and stained jeans. Boots and black fingerless gloves. The slave looked like stereotype come to life. The only thing the Clydesdale had been disappointed by was that the crotch bulge wasn't more visible, even with such tight pants. The only reason there was a lump at all was due to the canine knot, he figured. 'Man, I hate to even think it, but he really is tiny. It's kind of ironic that such a little package is causing him so much grief.' Jake thought to himself.
"If you say so. It's just, a little, you know, tight in the pants."
"You probably just need to adjust yourself a little. Here, let me." With his left hand, the insistent Clydesdale grabbed the top of Michael's jeans, right above the groin, while he thrust his right hand in between the pants and the dog's skin, until he found what he was looking for. Too shocked to protest, the Doberman allowed his cock and knot to be fondled by his Overseer's hand as it was maneuvered about.
Seeing a complete lack of resistance from his friend turned Jake on in a big way, so he allowed what was initially intended to be a quick readjustment to turn into a minute long fondling session. This, in turn, turned into even more as the horse unbuttoned the Doberman's jeans, pulling them down until they bunched up around the slave's ankles. The Clydesdale had decided to forgo underwear for Mike for tomorrow's upcoming shoot, so there were no additional layer of clothing that he needed to be concerned with. Instead, the always-ready-to-play erection was entirely vulnerable to its Overseer's attention.
Stripping his own shoes, pants, and underwear off in a hurry, Jake stepped behind Mike and started rubbing a foot of horse meat against the dog's nicely shaped ass cheeks. Then, reaching around with his right arm, he grabbed the slave's cock in his hand and began firmly yanking it up and down.
"Jake, please... don't..."
"Mike, I love you, bro, but I need to make this really clear to you. That's the last time you tell me 'don't'. Got it?"
The dog refused to answer the questions as the horse continued to tug on the undersized arousal.
"This is why I had to do this today, before the shoot. I can't have you whining and digging in your heels all day tomorrow, while we have people on site who we are paying by the hour. So I don't want to hear 'please don't'. I want to hear you beg me to jerk you off."
"Please, Jake..."
"Well?"
"Can't we just..."
"That sentence didn't sound like it was going to end with you begging me to tease your pretty little dick, bud. I want you to try again. And I want you to know that we won't be finished here until I'm convinced that you got the message I'm sending your way."
"... Please jerk me off..."
"You can do better than that, Tiny. Just try and imagine how you'll be begging me tomorrow, when you get your chance to shoot. Are you going to be mumbling then? If so, I might have to leave you hanging for another few days, or even a week. If you're not going to try, I really don't have much of a choice."
"No, please Mike!"
"'No' is another one of those words that need to fall out of your vocabulary, buddy. In case you're not seeing the pattern yet, other words that you should forget are: 'can't', 'won't', 'never', and 'stop'. Is that clear enough for you? Now, try again."
"... Please jerk me off! I need it so bad, I can't stand it! Don't make me wait until tomorrow! I'm begging you, bro!"
Hearing these words, Mike started stroking the Doberman's cock just as fast as he had seen the slave do to himself on the TV. "I might have considered it, but I heard a 'don't' in there. But not to worry -- you'll get your chance tomorrow. I promise you, Tiny, just do everything I tell you to and your handsome pump here will be getting its water all over the place."
"Please! It's too much, man!"
"Don't call me 'man'. Call me 'Sir'.
"Dude, this isn't cool! We were friends!"
"We still are friends, Tiny. You're just the kind of guy who can't be trusted to make any decisions -- not even over his own life. When I said I respected you, I was being completly serious. But while you're great at some things, taking care of yourself isn't one them. So that's why I'm here, bud. As your friend. And I'm not asking you to let me take care of things for you. I'm telling you. You know that I know better than you. So trust me."
"You don't get it, man. This is just so unfair! I never asked for any of this to happen!"
Using his left hand to lift the back of Mike's white wife beater shirt, the Clydesdale slipped his twelve inch cock under the clothing and against the dog's back, forcing the slave to feel every inch of him. "You never asked for a four and a half inch dick, either, Tiny, but things happen. You need to accept that you aren't in control. Just as you need to accept that I am. It's not your fault -- it's just how things shook out. You feel me against your back? Is it fair that I have all of this when you have so little? Mike, I'm going to be honest with you. Your dicklet is so small I'm having trouble even holding onto it while I'm jerking you. Life isn't fair, Tiny. That's why we need to look out for one another. That's why you need to let me look out for you. It's time to respect me like I respect you. It's time you let me take the reins for a bit."
"Jake, it's not that easy! I feel like I'm falling here. You wouldn't understand!"
"How could I not understand? I see you falling, dude. Right in front of my eyes. All I'm asking is, let me catch you."
"And you promise it'll be okay? You promise you'll bring me back up?"
"Mike, I promise you on my life and honor it will be okay. But I'm not bringing you back up, bro. I'm just bringing you down softly enough that you don't break. I know you won't like it. I know it won't be fun. I know it'll be hard to accept. But you fucked things up way too far for me to put them back the way they were. Just let go of the wheel, Tiny. You've done enough. It's time to let me take over."
"Okay, man... okay... fuck..."
As his fist continued to pound away on the Doberman's rod, the Clydesdale brought his left hand around and started playing with the slave's orbs. Even twice as large from the surgery, they still didn't compete with the horse's. "If only giving up control were that easy, bud. It's not going to happen overnight. But don't worry, we've got time. But a first good step would be to start calling me 'sir.'"
"I guess, dude... I mean, yes sir."
"And your cock?"
"...Sir?"
"You know what I'm asking, Tiny. It's time you admitted it to yourself. Tell me about your cock."
"Okay, so it's not that big."
Mike allowed his left hand to go from playful to punitive in the space of a heartbeat, making the Doberman stiffen up slightly between his arms. "'Not that big'? Try again, Mike. Tell me the truth about your cock."
"Fine! It's below average! Fuck."
Squeezing a bit harder this time on the slave's eggs, Mike replied "You know that's not the whole truth, pal. Let's not play this game all night. And you forgot the 'sir' again. Don't make me keep reminding you."
"OKAY! Fucking okay, god damn it. I have a small cock, sir! Is that what you wanted to hear!?"
"Yes, Tiny, that's what I wanted to hear. And now that it's out there in the open, we can accept it and move on. You have a small cock. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, and I don't love you any less for it. In fact, I think it's cute on you. Now say it again."
"I have a small cock, sir."
"Louder."
"I have a small cock, sir!"
"Be proud of it. Shout it out!"
"I have a small cock, sir!!"
"Yea, you do, bud. It's fucking tiny. And I love it. And I love you. Now, are you going to let me take care of you?"
"Yes... okay. Yes, sir."
"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear that, Mike. I'm proud of you, bro. And now that I know you'll let me take care of you, I can let you take care of me. On your knees, Tiny."
Under any other circumstances, the Clydesdale was sure, this would have a bridge too far -- one step past where the Doberman was willing to be led in a single night. But with his both his competence and his masculinity called into question and found lacking -- especially when compared to his successful-at-everything friend -- he just didn't have the will to keep fighting. Not this day, at least.
Instead, Michael meekly turned around and got on his knees, face to cock with the mammoth erection that seemed to mock him and his inadequacies. "You're going to be sucking on this in a just a moment, Tiny, but I want you to really take a good look first. I mean, you are starring directly at what you always wanted, right? There's no rush, bro. Get an eyeful. It's true, you were never meant for a member like this. But that doesn't mean you can't enjoy mine. I told you, you and I are in this together. If getting to suck on and play with my cock makes you feel better about what's between your legs, that's cool with me, Mike. And just like before, I'm not going to force you. If this is what you think you need, then I want you to take it. I know I said I'm in charge now, and that's true. But sometimes being in charge means knowing when to let someone else make the call. So I'm letting you choose, Tiny. Do you want a taste of a real cock? No ring gag this time. No arm binders. Just you and my foot long. This is your choice."
For Jake, it was the longest minute of his life -- he wanted Mike's lips around his length so badly. But on this point, taking what wasn't offered would have done more than merely tarnish the happiness. It would have destroyed it.
Just as the Clydesdale closed his eyes, despairing that he let his passion push the Doberman too far, too fast, he felt a moist warmth engulf the first few inches of his cock. And with that simple act, all the turmoil that had been storming in Jake's head became perfectly tranquil. 'Oh Tiny... this is right. This feels... right.'
With that last thought, the horse grabbed both sides of his friend's head and took control again. Since the dog's cock was still ineligible for cumming for the next twenty-four hours, Jake was more than happy to give Tiny an up-close demonstration of what a real orgasm looked like.