The Intern learned his Lesson well

Introduction:
The college intern Dillon got more of an education than he initially had bargained for. After master Bobbie gave Dillon a new look to die for. He swiftly turned the lad into the factories-bottom and his personal submissive fuck-toy.

Disclaimer:
This story is strictly fictional and contains male-on-male (gay) sexual content, both implied and explicit. 

• If this offends you, please do not continue. 
• If you are under 16 years of age, please exit this story now. 

All character names, implied situations, parties, or locations are strictly fictional. Any similarities with real people are unintentional and purely coincidental. This fictional story is the author's imagination and is not based on real-life events or people. The author does not endorse any products or parties named in this story.

Copyright:
Any and all copyrights to this story remain strictly that of the author. No other publication or use, or reproduction of this story, or parts of this story, is allowed without the author's written consent. 

The shy intern Dillon got an education and a half.

I met Dillon, our new intern from the local technical college, a week or two into his internship. The scraggly-looking lad wasn't mother's nicest. The bashful and timid guy was in his late teens. Dillon always dressed like a bit of a vagabond. He had a scruffy hairdo and wore thick outdated plastic glasses. No, compared to the other interns we had, he came from the bottom of the barrel. Not that looks matter much in our plant. But his shy attitude did not do him any favors either.

We sat in the cafeteria when I first laid my eyes on the ugly bastard. Dillon sat way in the back corner. Eating a banana as if he was sucking on a big dildo. He was probably not even aware he was doing that. Dillon regularly gave off the wrong signals. The mostly male workers in our factory had seen him do it, though. Hence the nickname Dildo was born.
From that point on, the men teased him no end. And Dillon got really defensive about it. Even going to the woman from the HR-department to complain. I was called to her office to talk about the brat. She asked me if I could take Dillon under my wing. Teaching him in my unusual way. She had winked dirty at me when she said it. Asking me to mentor him gently for the rest of his internship. Full well knowing that I could sometimes get a bit too rough. But I had a unique set of people skills the woman from HR often called upon.

The people at our aluminum plant were a rowdy bunch of fuckers. But even the best of them sometimes got problems they could not work out for themselves. That's when I try to help them out. Either the men came to me or were sent by the HR department. If I saw that something was going wrong in our factory, I usually stepped in. I don't know why I was chosen to do this. But it worked. The men and women had great respect for me. And those that did not, quickly got to learn about my nastier side.

My name is Bobbie. A bad-ass MoFo that does not take no for an answer. A very manly dude, but queer as fuck. 28 years of age with arms like ships-cables. I loved my mean-muscled look. And worked hard to keep me in shape. I trained 3 times a week and worked out with a lot of the guys from work. Coaching them in more ways than one. Ripping them a second hole if one of them stepped out of line.
My well-hung cock usually got a solid workout as well. No end of married man, or women, wanted me. Therefore I did some stripping- and escort-work on the side too. Earning me a pretty penny. Much more than the hairdresser jobs I used to have before. So to say I am everything Dillon wasn't. I am outgoing, open, direct, honest, good-looking, and... well, ... gay.

As foreman of the melting shop, I had my own office at the back of our aluminum factory. Out of sight and at a prime location. Overlooking the main plant. It even had a secluded balcony on the outside.
I got a lot of leeway from my bosses and the union reps. Heck, they were sort of regulars of mine. Either giving me the inside scoop. Or begging me to rail their married cunts if their wives had denied them pussy again.
Every guy knew that being told to go to my office was very serious. They were either in severe trouble, or in for a nasty treat. Either way, they always came running. But I usually just had a quick word with them, and things got swiftly sorted.

I had not seen Dillon in a couple of days. He lay low after the incident at the cafeteria. Around 3 PM, I was taking a leak at the urinals of the melting shop. Dillon walked in on me and stood there looking at me in awe from a distance. Adjusting his package, he finally stepped up and stood beside me. Unaware that I saw him looking at me the whole time via the mirror. Dillon pulled his dick out and took a furtive glance at mine. His eyes widened in fright. My 10" dong was fully erect. He saw my wad of cum dripping off the urinal wall. Before his gaze turned back to his own. Dillon tried to piss, but his stiffening prick prevented him from doing so.

"Bit of stage fright, Dillon?" I joked gleefully. 

The lad got a real scare. Frightened by the realization that I actually knew his name and even dared to talk to him. Dillon had never thought that would happen. He had always looked at me with sort of a dreamy look in his eyes.
Dillon packed his meat back in his coveralls and ran out without washing his hands. I laughed my head off. Realizing that the ring on his finger was just there for show. "The brat is into cock," I thought to myself. 

At the end of my shift, I walked to the communal changing room. Pulling the chain that my clothes were hanging on from the wall. I let the clothes rack fly down from the ceiling. Nearly hitting Dillon on his head when he walked over to his rack. He stopped just shy of being hit by it.
In anger, he looked around. But when he saw it was my clothes rack, he got all red in the face. Instead of walking to his own, Dillon stared at my biker gear. Involuntarily rubbing the hardening bulge in his coveralls again. I walked over to my clothes and stood right behind Dillon. Looking naughtily over the lad's shoulder, down at what his hand was doing to the cock-bulge.

"Need a hand with that, boy?" I whispered hotly in his ear.

The boy saw water burning. Got weak in the knees and started to tremble.

"Oh, God... No!... I can't... I... I..." he stammered with a breaking voice. "Sorry..." Dillon added.

He walked away, feeling utterly humiliated. I just smiled and pulled off my work boots, ripped off my overalls, and walked nude to the showers. Willy was leaking pre-cum on my thigh as he swung happily from side to side.

Dillon got a long look at me. Feeling faint, looking at my muscular body. I proudly let him see every muscle group. Even flexing my arms as I walked past him. He let out a barely audible high-pitched sigh and a soft moan. When I came back from the shower, Willy was fully erect. I saw Dillon staring at my butt. He watched me put on my biker gear, straight over my naked body. Who needs underwear when you dress in full leather?
As Dillon walked to the exit of the communal dressing room, he looked over one last time. As I put on my cowboy boots. I quickly pulled my clothes rack back up and caught up with Dillon. 

I put an arm around his neck. Grabbing a shoulder tightly. The boy trembled severely. He had not expected this intimate touch. Certainly not from me. "Dillon... Ummm... I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning!" I said sternly. Punching out, then making some more chit-chat remarks at Dillon, "What kind of car do you drive?... Do you have far to go?..."

Shyly he answered, "I take the bus here... But it won't come by again for another 50 minutes... I live with my parents in the next town over."

"Ah, bummer... Where do you need to go?... Maybe I can drop you off?" I said as if it was normal for me to do so. "Come on, Dillon... Don't be so timid... I don't ask twice!" I handed him my spare helmet and maneuvered my motorcycle out the parking space.

Dillon reluctantly put the helmet on and sheepishly sat on the back of my bike. Not knowing where to put his hands. So I looked over my shoulder and grabbed an arm. "Hold on close, boy!" I ordered. As I put his hand into the pocket of my leather jacket. Dillon was shaking. He could not believe he sat on the back of my bike. And much less, he was told to touch my body. He heard me speak on the headset I had built into my helmets, "What's your address, Dillon... I'll drop you off at your front door... Or do you want to come by my place first?... I'll let you look at my cock again..." I said jokingly and laughed hard.
We drove off, and I waved at a couple of mates. They were stunned to see Dillon on the back of my ass. He had crawled on close and hung on for dear life.

I heard Dillon softly whisper to himself, "Oh hell... What is happening?... I must be dreaming... God, what a great feeling!"

"Glad to hear you're enjoying yourself, Dillon... Now, what shall it be?... A beer at my place or dinner at your mom's?..." I asked him through the headset.

"Really?... I... I am not... I am not gay!..." he stammered. Feeling caught realizing he was talking out loud. And inadvertently admitting that he knew that I was into men as well as women.

"Who are you fooling, boy?... But hey, if you say so... A beer with a work friend doesn't make you gay, you know... I just want to get to know you a bit better..." I said openly.
"Maybe even give you a few pointers... You seem very on edge working with all the guys... Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen to you... I promise... But you better tell me what it is that you really want because I have seen you looking at me all day... And you act as if all you really want is getting into my pants... Not that I mind that... No, not one bit... But I need you to say the words, boy... Or nothing is going to happen."

It went quiet for a while. Dillon was clearly making up his mind. Then the lad shyly asked, "Bobbie... Can I really come over for a beer with you?... I heard the guys talking about you... Telling what a nice big..." Dillon stopped suddenly and sighed, upset.

"You can say it, boy..." I laughed. "Nothing I haven't heard before. Rubbing his leg. But it remained quiet behind me. I stopped in front of my garage, and we drove inside straight off the street. I had opened my garage door remotely. It closed behind us when we came to a stop. "Time to get off, Dillon... Let's grab that beer and have a chat, boy..."

Dillon stubbornly remained seated. So I had to wriggle off my bike first. Then I saw why the boy had stopped talking. He had creamed the inside of his tatty cotton pants. A big wet spot had appeared in the most unfortunate location. He obviously had been thinking about seeing my 10-pounder in the toilets. I unfastened the lad's helmet. Pulled off the boys' thick glasses before pulling the helmet off. Dillon was openly crying in shame. Grabbing the lad under his arms, I lifted him clear of the bike. The skinny dude weighed next to nothing. I hugged him, telling him it was okay. "I just have that effect on people..." I said with a smirk. "Come on upstairs..." Dillon followed me up sluggishly. 

I sat him on the couch in the living room and went to the kitchen for a couple of beers. The wide-eyed Dillon looked around in amazement. My living room in my loft was much bigger than his entire house. He saw all my leather furniture and erotic art on the wall. Dillon's jaw dropped to the ground when he saw my sling and barber chair with stirrups. And the sex toys openly on display in a cabinet beside it. He noticed the leather hides as carpet on the floor. And he managed a reluctant smile when I came back with the beers and some snacks.

"Wow... what an amazing place you got here, Bobbie... How the hell are you able to afford this?" asked Dillon in wonder.

"Hard work and good looks got me this far... And having a few good jobs doesn't hurt either... Besides working at the factory, I also do some escort work on the weekends... " I had expected Dillon to show some reaction to that last bit. But the lad just smirked dirty at me. So I upped the ante by telling him, "Men and women are going crazy for my cum gun... They all want to be dominated by a leather master like me... Or pay a lot extra to screw my hot ass..." Even this revelation did not face Dillon. He just nodded understandingly. Now I was sure this asshole was into men and wanted nothing more than to get into my leather pants himself.
"And I used to be an award-winning barber before I got this job," I said. Lustfully rubbing my hand over the cock-bulge in my biker pants.
"Are you into that kind of thing too, Dillon?... Or do you still want me to believe that you rather eat pussy?..." I said, looking naughtily with squinted eyes at Dillon.
I butchly opened a bottle of beer with my teeth and handed it to him. Giving him an excuse not to have to answer me.

"Hey, Dillon... Would you like to grab a bite to eat with me later?... I could go for some Chinese... If you do, then you may want to call home to tell them you'll be back late." 

Dillon looked bashfully up at me again. "Don't worry, boy... Nothing is really going to happen if you don't want it to!" I said, calming him down. "On the other hand... Anything goes around here!" I grinned as I told him that. "And I really do mean anything..." Pointing at the leather sling in the corner.

Dillon's breathing got a little faster. Looking at me as if to scream; Yes, please, teach me, take me, sir!

"Sure..." said Dillon, after processing all the impressions I had bombarded him with. "I would love to eat you..." his breath stocked in his throat. 

Did he actually just say that out loud? I laughed my ass off at his Freudian slip. "Well... Well... now we are getting somewhere... What part of me would you like to eat first?" I grinned nastily at Dillon. And put an arm around him, taking a few sips of my beer.

At first, he laughed with me. But he squinted his eyes after a while. "I already told you I am not gay!" he snarled meanly. 

"That's cool two, Dillon... Do you care to explain that dripping wet cock of yours to me then?" I said equally harshly. Pointing to his wet pants.

Dillon lost control over his emotions again. I fatherly coached the boy. Saying, "Dil... I can't help you if I don't know what's going on... Try to explain what you're feeling... I am not trying to hurt you... I just want to help you!" I said very calmly. Giving Dillon time and space to find the right words.

"Bobbie... Ummm?... I don't know, man..." said Dillon sobbingly. "I don't know if I am gay or not... I certainly never had many girlfriends... Shit, I only had sex a couple of times before... I just... well, you know... I much rather help myself... When I saw you, I so wanted to be like you!... Tough, mean, muscular, and butch... But look at me, man... How the fuck do I do that?... You are more than twice the man I will ever be!... Even the guys at the plant think so!... I am nothing but a Dildo to them." He got angrier the longer he talked openly about his feelings. This was the longest coherent sentence I had ever heard Dillon string together. "Hell, I wished I would have you as my bigger brother... To guide me... Fuck, I would even let you..." Dillon stopped when he felt his prick twitch against the wet spot in his pants again.

I said nothing for a while. Sat back on my couch and laid an arm behind Dillon's back. Even inviting him to rest his head on my arm. And to my surprise, he did. Not long after that, I pulled him onto my broad chest. We sat there for a long time, sampling our beers and eating some snacks. "Call your folks Dil... I want to take you to dinner... Or do you prefer we dine here?" I asked softly. 

"Let's eat here... There is so much I want to learn from you... I am much more comfortable doing that in private... Hell, maybe you can give me a floor show or something?" he smirked dirty at me.

I grabbed the phone and asked Dillon what he wanted to eat and ordered out. Afterward, I handed the phone to Dillon, who called his folks. "Mom, I am sleeping over at a friend's home..." he said decisively. I looked at the dude and smiled. "Are you sure, Dil?... Aren't you going a bit fast?" I asked him after he hung up the phone.

You said you are a mentor and were a hairdresser. I think I can use both. Can you turn me into a good-looking guy like..." he stopped. This time not because he was dreaming out loud. But because I had stuffed my hand down the front of his pants. Jerking off the rock-hard boy-toy. He looked up at me, then back down at his crotch. Loosened his belt and undid the cord that held his cotton pants closed. Giving me full access. I pushed him on his back onto the couch again. Pulling his penis from his drenched pants. Looked at him a second and bent forward to suck him clean.

Dillon looked down at the muscle god between his legs. Gobbling up his 6" nicely shaped cock. I looked up at him and told him to grab hold of my head and to fuck my face. His eyes squinted again as he fucked himself between my lips. I made sopping and gurgling noises. Egging the guy on. I pushed myself off Dillon's manhood to lay on top of the dude. He hugged me closely. But could not help to feel disappointed. Not allowing him to cum in my mouth. We kissed for a while. Until the doorbell rang. I got up and came back with the Chinese takeaway we had ordered. Dillon had nearly forgotten all about it.

Over dinner, we discussed the mixed signals he unknowingly gave off nearly all the time. I had to give him a few examples. And when he heard them, the light in his eyes started to shine bright. Fully understanding what he had been doing wrong for years now. Even realizing how submissively gay he actually came across to others. Luckily Dillon felt totally relaxed with me. Talking openly about his feelings. Coming to the conclusion that he might even have been gay all along.

He asked me what it felt like the first time I got butt fucked by a guy. It surprised me he even used those words. The bashful and timid little brat was anything but now. Dillon also wanted to know where I trained and who cut my hair. He playfully rubbed a hand through my shoulder-long wavy hair. Sighing that he needed a haircut of his own.

Laughingly I said that I agreed. Dillon was indeed badly in need of a make-over. Telling him to lose the marmalade-jar glasses and to get some contact lenses. Suddenly I said with a commanding voice, and before dessert, "Dil... Strip!... I am going to give your cock and balls a make-over... Even your own mother won't recognize you after I am done with you."

He looked at me stupefied. Not really knowing what to do. But after processing the command, he willingly complied. I took the ugly swan and sat him forcefully into the BDSM barber fuck-chair. Hoisted his legs onto the stirrups. Binding them to the chair with some leather straps. His boyish chest and arms got tied to the fuck-chair with a thick rope as well. The boy got all tied-up and had nowhere to go. So he gave himself fully to me. And that was the precise response I had expected Dillon would have to this whole situation. He actually wanted to be dominated. And that was right up my alley.

I gruffly pulled his head back and quickly gave him a cool crew-cut. Dillon's nearly matted locks fell to the ground and onto him. I also shaved his cock and balls. The thick, scraggly bush of pubes also got a make-over. When even his butt cheeks were shaved bold, I sucked the dude off for real. Forcing him to unload deep into my mouth. Letting myself enjoy this dessert. Lubing his back door and gently playing with it. Penetrating it ever so slightly with a few thick fingers. 

Dillon struggled with the feeling of being tied up. He really wanted to caress my head and stroke my muscular arms. Dillon needed to show me that he loved me! So badly, in fact, that he screamed it down at me. I still was fully clothed in my biker gear and had no intention to change that either.

I pulled up a mobile washbasin behind his head and proceeded to finish the make-over. Washing his hair, combing it, and then bleaching some very blond locks into it. When I was done, I showed the anxious Dillon his new blond spiky crew-cut look. He was still tied into the chair. Dillon had his legs apart. His cock was rock-hard and twitching wildly. And his arms still wanting to hug someone. Anyone. His asshole was even gaping open. Very much wanting to be filled with man-meat.

When Dillon finally calmed down and looked at his new hairdo, he grinned from ear to ear. "Thank you, Bobbie!" he said happily, gazing at his reflection. "Please, fuck me already!" Dillon's breath quickened. His cock started leaking pre-cum again.
With a finger, I fed Dillon his own pre-cum. The rest I smeared over his butthole and fingered his boy pussy with it. Dillon rolled with his eyes and pulled his head in his neck. Moaning loudly at that feeling and breathing very heavily.

I slowly pulled out, caressing his balls a bit. Bringing him down from cloud nine. Unfastened the boy from the fuck-chair and picked the lad up in both my strong arms. His hands finally got to stroke my big pecs. He even dared to pinch a nipple. On the other, I wore a piercing. The boy was really smitten with me. Worshiping my masterful muscled look. Drinking in the look, the feel, and my sweaty musk. I dropped him rudely onto my leather-covered bed.

Dillon spread his arms to feel it all. The smell, the coolness, even the texture he took in with all the senses he could muster. Sending himself into sensory overload. He was totally gone. The lad was mine now! I could have had my way with him. Ripping his boy cunt in two until he bled. Using him nastily as I saw fit.
However, I did not. The ugly brat had grown on me. Dillon's new look made him even seem a little cool. I pulled an old pair of jeans from my closet as well as a leather denim-look jacket. Gave him one of my leather baseball caps and put on a spiked wrist band on his right arm. Signaling Dillon was a bottom. My bottom!
Before he dressed, I put a metal-studded leather cockstrap around his cock and balls. Playing with them for a while. Telling the boy, "Okay... You're mine now... You will call me sir... Everything you say or ask will start with that... Do you understand me, bitch?"

"Sir... Yes... I think I do, sir... It will be my honor to serve you, master Bobbie!"

"If I call you, will you come running?" I asked harshly.

"Sir... Yes, sir!" replied Dillon proudly.

"If I tell you to present your hole to be fucked, will you?... No matter if we are in public or surrounded by strangers?"

"Sir... Yes, sir!... I will keep it shaved and well lubed for use, sir."

"Good boy!... I'll make a proud little fuck-toy out your sorry ass yet... You just follow my lead, boy!"

We drank a few more beers together before I send my new bottom-boy home.

"I had fun, Dil... But now it's time to get to bed... We have to go to work tomorrow." I said as I handed him his glasses.

When he walked into the hallway, Dillon saw his own reflection in the mirror. "Damn, I really have to get myself some different glasses... Don't I?" he sighed at his new look.

"Thanks, master Bobbie... I will try to remember everything you taught me, sir!... You are so fucking good it hurts." he sighed with a big grin on his face. I kissed and wished the lad goodbye. He looked long - far too long - and lovingly into my eyes.
We kissed some more in the open doorway. The folks outside stared weirdly at us. "Dildo, you really need to go, boy!" I said meanly to him. Kicking him out the door. Outside he walked home. His head held high. As if he owned the place.
Even the street whores wanted the lad to spend some time with them now. Before, they would have looked straight through him. Not even acknowledging his existence. The new-look changed his whole outlook on life. And all he could do was enjoy the feeling.

The next day the HR-department woman called, telling me that Dildo took half the day off. And that his meeting with me would have to be rescheduled. I told her off. Not to call him by his nickname EVER again. She apologized immediately. Something that she not normally did.

Around lunch-time, Dillon walked into the cafeteria. His head held high, and his chest puffed out in front. The usually bustling place all of a sudden fell silent for a moment. The man whooped and hollered as Dillon strutted his stuff. The cafeteria lady even gave him some extra protein to eat. Dillon wore a vintage biker jacket over his coveralls. With nothing underneath, and the overall's top was left unbuttoned. Dillon had tied the arms of the coveralls around his waist. The dude had his face cleaned from all the nasty blackheads. His five-o'clock shadow was neatly trimmed as well now. Dillon had even bought himself some contacts.
The man walked straight over to my table. And set himself down directly next to me. He pulled up the arms of his leather jacket to eat. Revealing a new leather armband on his right wrist. On his feet, he had a pair of well-polished macho black boots. His coveralls were butchly tugged into his socks. 

The guys started chanting, "Dildo... Dildo... Dildo!"

But as soon as I snapped my fingers, that stopped. It stopped forever. 

Dillon commanded respect. After lunch, at the urinals, I saw Dil standing between a few other men. Taking a leak in the piss-trough. I walked in, cleaned my hands, and looked in the mirror. "Dil... Present your ass!" I called harshly. He ripped his overall off, arched his back, and placed his hands on the wall behind the urinal.

"Ready for this, boy?" I softly asked. Smacking Dillon's naked ass harshly.

"Sir... as ready as I will ever be... Give it to me!" he sighed in horny anticipation. Lustfully making his bumhole wink at his master's cock. The other men had to stop pissing. Looking at me and my new bitch-boy. Not that they could have kept going. All of them had a nasty case of rigor mortis hanging out their overalls. 

Dildo screamed as I plunged forward. "Ouch... Fucking hell!... Oh shit... God, your so big master... Argh... Oh... fuck, sir... Take my hole!... I am yours!"

I let the boy get used to the thick 10" uncut cock. It was stretching Dillon's boy-hole open for real now. I pulled out and snapped a rubber over the butch man-meat. Before I mercilessly slammed my uncut dick back in, balls deep. Smacking my hips against my bitches' ass.
The men cheered as Dildo took me painfully down. Having to brace himself even firmer against the back wall of the urinals.
I ravaged the boy-cunt extremely roughly and without any lube. The rest of the men were watching us in awe. Dillon screamed his head off in pleasure. Once the pig-pussy was gaping open, I got up and washed my hands. Asking the men, "Who's next?"
That afternoon Dillon got a proper education from the men. Filling his every desire. Teaching him to take cock like a power bottom on steroids. Making him eat cum and drink piss. Straight out of the thick straws provided to Dillon. Even the boss made use of the boy's newly found abilities.

We did not see Dillon again until it was time to go home. He walked straight over to my bike. Snatching my spare helmet from my motorcycle. Dillon drove with me in his new jeans and leather chaps to my place. That weekend I made him serve me like the bitch he had always wanted to be. Showing him what real discipline felt like. Humbling him, making Dillon worship my muscular body as only a real sub could have done. We screwed all weekend long. Went shopping and clubbing, where I made him serve my buddies and good-paying customers. He took it all in his stride. Knowing he was mine to do with as I saw fit. 

And that was all he had ever wanted out of life. He had just been too timid and shy to really go for it.

- THE END -

Thank you for reading this story.
Please, give it a Like or a Comment if you are so inclined.
And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spunk! ;-)

(C) StrykerJ - 2021-02