It was an Interesting Night...

Wrote this story...Kindof as self-therapy. I'm a bit nevous sharing it here. I hope you all enjoy.

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It was going to be an interesting night.

That's what had lured Joss to Mike's house.

It was going to be a BDSM party. Mike had invited Joss. “Master Mike”, as what most of the guests knew him as.

Joss knew /of/ this title, but he more knew Mike as Mike.

And while he was absolutely interested in BDSM, he told Mike he had no interest in exposing himself to strangers. He would be glad to chat, inspire ideas. But not participate.

Mike knew, he simply asked Joss to bring his leather jock, and collar. Mike knew of these items, he had only seen Joss in the collar, and only as a fashion statement. He had seen the jock, but never Joss in it.

And Joss was there earlier as it was requested. Mike wanted his help to set up.

But the place was already setup.

Joss knew it was going to be an interesting night.

“Let me see your collar,” Mike said, and Joss handed it over. It was an interesting piece. Solid, black leather, thick and strong, well bonded. Strapped around it was a chrome band with a thick O-ring dangling from the center. In back was the buckle for it. “This is a really lovely piece,” Mike said.

“Yeah, I got it because it went with all the chrome bracelets and spikes I like to wear.”

“I asked you to bring it over,” Mike began, “Because I wanted you to get involved--”

“I'm not going to participate. Just chat, watch, give id--”

“Just wait,” Mike said. He'd normally be sharply stern, being Master Mike, but Joss was...Different. He had to handle him differently. “I figured out...Lets call it a game. You don't want to expose yourself, I understand, you're scared,” he said as delicately as the place Joss was coming from in his own mind.

Joss didn't say anything, he gave Mike a sincere, wide-eyed look that said he was listening, but Mike also saw that it was a sincere beg not to be hurt. There were just some things the two friends knew about each other from the fact they were just friends, and Mike had never been Master Mike to him. He didn't feel the need to be that either.

“So, this is the game...I have a puppy-boy hood. We've talked about human dog play before, you know a lot about it,” Mike said. Of course, Joss knew a lot about anything that was considered a fetish. He was some intellectual fetishist. He just never let on what he really liked. “It'll completely mask who you are. Only I will know, and I won't hold you to anything.” Mike then picked up the collar, “So here's the rules of the game. You can wear as much or as little as you like. I will hold out this collar for you. If you choose to place your own neck into it, I will buckle it, and then you will get onto all fours and for the next 45 minutes, your only communication will be barks, whines, whimpers and howls, and the body language that comes with being on all fours. I'll even set an egg timer.”

“And then what happens?” Joss asked.

“What happens is the same as if you don't put the collar on. I will show you around how I have the house set up. I don't have to say how different that will be depending on the choice you make. If you want to end the game early, all you have to do is stand up. After the 45 minutes though, the game will be ended, the collar comes off, and we'll chat about how you felt, and how you might like to spend the rest of the night. It will only be 15 minutes after that before guests may start arriving though.”

Joss, who was normally a very articulate young man, was very quiet and considerate over this. So Mike was surprised when Joss only said, “Okay.”

It was a stiff moment, there was no further explanation or words on either behalf. Mike held out the collar towards Joss, holding it open carefully so as not to bend the reflective chrome. Joss had this tense look of consideration as he looked into the open ring.

The tension started to crackle as Joss reached to his waist, and unsnapped his baggy, gothic-raver pants. The chains clinked as he dropped the pants to the floor, leaving him in just body-hugging black briefs and his sneakers from the waist down. He leaned his neck into his own collar carefully, and Mike buckled it as he let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.

Joss then dropped onto all fours, looked up to Mike, straight in the eye, and he barked once.

It was the most earth shattering sound either of them had ever heard. Mike felt this rush as this boy who he felt was a steel, unchanging, unflinching wall opened up something he had only hoped to see.

It seems the trick is just getting the metal hot enough.

“Speak, boy,” Mike said to test the situation.

And Joss barked again. Then his rear wiggled behind him, swinging in the air in a way that broke the tension down. The boy didn't smile yet, no, he was still in his own test. Joss' own world was breaking down around him, and he wanted it to. The test was to see if he liked the way it came back together.

“Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?!” Mike said to Joss with cheery pet-talk as he leaned down and scratched the boy behind the ears. A shuddering breath broke out of Joss' mouth as his head rolled into Mike's hands, the touch reaching in past his skin to his quaking nerves.

It was overwhelming. The fingertips were marvelous, but relentless jackhammers that rubbed through his skin. The energy was an electric fire let loose from a dam that Joss held as his main support structure. It burnt so hard the boy whimpered and shut his eyes.

It was beyond interesting. It was growing terrifying, and Mike knew it. He knelt down and grabbed Joss tight to his chest. He wasn't violent, he wasn't restrictive, he was solid. Joss had given up one of the most solid things in his own life at that moment, and had Mike been more careless, or less observant, the night would've been a haze of fire and agony. But in that moment he held Joss, and cooed in his ear. He felt the energy boiling, and he tried to be the solid path through which it had to flow. He had to guide it. It was released now, and he was partly responsible for it. Joss let it out, and now it was Mike's responsibility to guide it.

And don't think Mike wasn't terrified as well. He never thought it could be like this. He never dreamed that it could be like this. He knew he was doing what he had to do now, but he could feel his heart pounding as he held onto Joss to see if he'd be able to trust him.

“Sshhhh...Shhh...There's a good puppy...Don't worry, Master's here...I won't let anything happen to you. Just relax...Shhh...Be a good puppy,” he said in calm desperation.

“Settle...” Mike cooed, the word popping up in his memory.

“Settle, boy...” he said as he stroked down Joss' sensitive body. “Settle...” he calmed, relaxing himself as he felt Joss' body slowly lose its tension.

The word came from one of the many long talks the pair had before. Joss used to help raise abused foster animals when he was a boy. The best command, he said, he had ever learned was to teach a dog, “Settle.” When the dog got upset, the trainer was supposed to hold them, and very gently say the word, “Settle,” while petting them down, and making them feel safe. It was a difficult command to master, as one had to remain in control, but still be gentle, while making the animal feel safe.

And that's what Joss needed now. Safety. He held on to the safety of his own reticence so long, and now he was giving it up. If he couldn't give his own safety, he had to know it was somewhere else.

Silence consumed the pair. The static sound of heavy breaths, and the tick of the egg-timer that had been set was the soundtrack to the room that grounded it back in reality. Joss slowly dropped out of Mike's arms to his hands again, then his head dropped to the ground, and Mike sat back on his knees in quiet contemplation.

Mike stood up and looked up the egg timer to see a shocking fifteen minutes had passed. He felt drained. Even he had pushed his limits, and barely anything had happened. Joss remained on the floor, once more a mask of whatever was going on in his head. There wasn't a way to describe it. Mike wanted to ask how he felt, hesitating as he wondered if the game was still on, or if it even should be on.

He reached for the egg-timer so he could twist it to its finish, make it ding and give it some symbolism of ending, but just as his hand moved he felt a bump against his knee. Joss nudged his head against it, and looked up at Mike with that same, wide-eyed sincere look that he had earlier. His eyes shimmered, and the message was clear. He was begging not to be hurt.

Mike took his hand away from the timer, he reached down, and he started to rub the boy behind one ear. Joss leaned his head firmly against Mike's leg, and the two breathed quietly together.

“Who's a good boy?” Mike asked in a soft, pet-talk. “Who's a good boy?”

Much to his relief, Joss barked. He quickly followed with, “Puppy want a treat? Does my good puppy want a treat?”

Joss looked up quickly. Oh, god, how he needed a reward. It was all he wanted to show Mike he was okay, that he was happy now, even if he couldn't smile just yet. He barked out, and his butt wagged behind him. Mike smiled, and led him to the kitchen. He had various snags for the party, and he grabbed one of the little, finger-sandwiches he had set out. He gave it to Joss, who very gladly ate the simple treat.

And from there, the tension that filled the house earlier flowed for the next half hour. Mike led Joss around the house on all fours to where he had a St. Andrew's cross set up, a bondage table elsewhere. He had a sling set up in the basement, various toys throughout the house. The living room was still a social area, but had light toys set about to be played with when guests arrived. Even a violet wand, which was the one thing that Mike knew was Joss' favorite sensation play. He promised the puppy would get some light zaps if he wanted it, no matter if he was a puppy or human at the time.

Joss wasn't the perfect human dog, and Mike knew it. Joss was clearly listening to every word, he interpreted things as a human acting as a dog...But his friend was still freeing himself, by acting as a dog, and that's what he loved. Mike kept track of the time on his own as well, so they were back within earshot of the egg timer as it dinged.

Joss snapped up to his feet as he heard the sound, and unbuckled the collar with the swift practice that came from personal ownership.

“I have to pee,” he said before Mike could ask anything, and Joss walked right off into the bathroom. As Joss had told him once before, he was highly unexpected.

Once he returned, there was a moment of silence as they both looked at each other. Mike was worried, of course, but Joss had this energy that was still flowing through and out of him. “So...How do you feel?” Mike asked.

“I feel...good,” Joss said. To start. “My world was just taken apart and put back together. You just saw something no one else has seen. Ever.”

“I know...” Mike said. He didn't know what else to say. He wanted to say he did very well, that Joss was a great pup, but it just didn't seem right to blurt out.

“But...It's okay...It's like...All the pieces that shouldn't have been there are gone now, and my world is better. It's like...I let something go that I didn't need, and it revealed something I enjoyed.”

“You were a very good pup. You had me scared for a moment at the beginning though.”

“Well...I felt like...Like it was too much. Like I couldn't handle it. I felt broken, I felt like all this joy was right in front of me and I couldn't take hold of it...And I felt that if I couldn't enjoy—feel joy...I was just broken, like I didn't work. I felt like I was dying...But you were there. You seemed to understand...Or if you didn't understand, you didn't hate me for it. You held me, you let it go...”

“I just wanted to know it was okay,” Mike said, and put a shoulder on Joss' shoulder, which turned into a tight embrace between the pair. “I didn't know what was happening, but you were scared, and that's fine. You were...I've never seen you like that before. No matter what, I just wanted you to be happy. If you didn't like it...I would've been fine. You shouldn't have to feel scared though.”

Joss leaned his head onto Mike's shoulder and let out a long sigh. “I don't. Not any more. At least...Not for that...How much time do we have before the party?”

Mike looked at the clock as he held the embrace. “Maybe...Ten minutes or so. That's when people should start arriving. I don't know when they will actually get here...”

“Everyone's always late for a party,” Joss said. “Promise me. When they get here...You won't let them touch me without checking with me first. I'm hyper-sensitive...If they do it wrong, it can hurt.”

“Yes, I know...” Mike murmured quietly. “Are you...”

He didn't have to complete the question. Joss hugged him, and then simply said. “I need something to eat, and something to drink.”

For the next few minutes, Mike and Joss enjoyed some of the snacks like the good friends they were. Joss was the same, intellectual fetishist he was when he arrived. They talked quickly about some of the things they expected to happen that night. Mike wanted to ask Joss about what the boy would be doing, but when Joss skirts an issue, he knew there was a reason for it. After the short snack and conversation, Joss looked at the time and simply said, “I need to get ready. Do you have a clean pair of black socks, and some tape?”

Mike nodded and went to retrieve them. Joss, meanwhile, undressed into nothing but his leather jock, and black canvas sneakers. Mike came back with the socks and duct tape, knowing what Joss was planning from what Joss simply knew about human dog play. Mike taped the socks over Joss' balled fists, then helped Joss into the puppy mask he said he had. Finally, Joss leaned his neck into his collar once again, and let Mike buckle it.

As Mike's guests arrived, they were all delighted by the food, and decorations at the party; and not a single one was able to resist the charm of the shy dog Mike had found. There was something different, the way that Mike made sure they all treated him...It was a timid, gentle joy they all experienced with him. It certainly was an interesting night.

But never quite as interesting as the beginning of it.