The Man in the Red Shorts

 I decided to take a vacation over to Europe. A few weeks country hopping to get some culture, y’know? You’re only 23 once and I wanted to do it while I was still young. Now this was mostly just a trip for me. Get away from it all, post-graduation. A way to avoid the job search just a little longer. Plus, I had the money left over from college savings, so why not? I started in the UK and then moved inland. The experience was amazing, but my time was winding down quickly. I was in Germany when my scheduled time in Europe was coming to a close. With only four days left, it was off to Paris, where my flight home would be departing. That was where I met him.

I had just gotten off the train and was heading into the city. The weather was beautiful, if not just a tad bit on the warm side. The streets of city were filled with locals and tourists alike. The sights and the smells were a lot to take in and I was immediately disappointed with myself that I allotted such a short amount of time to this city. I called a cab from the station to take me to the hotel near my airport. When I arrived at the check in desk they informed me that they had booked out my room by mistake and they were sadly filled along with the rest of the hotels nearest to the airport. My heart sank at my stroke of bad luck but I got a full refund on my room, leaving me with a little extra cash to find a place a little farther off.

When I exited the hotel I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find a man of imposing stature. He was easily six foot five and a solid 225 pounds of sculpted muscle. He was beautifully tanned. The most interesting part of him though was his dress. I knew people in certain areas of Europe were a bit less modest than others but this man knew no shame. He was dressed clear out of the Seventies in a retro red tank top that showed most of his perfect chest and shorts that just touched his powerful thighs. Hair sprung from his tiny shirt at my eye level. He looked down at me with a welcoming smile. “Hello, friend.” His English clear but the French accent piercing each word. “I overheard what happened to you in the hotel. I was visiting a friend who works at the desk when you came in. I live near this area and if you would like, you can stay with me.” The man in the red shorts looked at me with genuine concern and I felt that I should accept his offer. His eyes shined in the sun and I began to feel warm just being there with him. I nearby car horn pulled me back into reality.

“While the offer is very generous, I don’t know you. You’re a stranger in a strange city.”

He smiled at me and took my arm in his. “No worry! I’ll show you around for the day and we will get to know each other. Once night falls I’ll let you decide if you would like to stay with me or I’ll take you to a hotel.”

Next thing I knew I was being tugged off through Paris with this mountain of a man.

The day flew past. I learned the man’s name was Jacques. He owned a local gym and was a nutritionist. He took me to many of the city’s sights and led me to the some of the best food I had ever eaten.

“I’m so glad to have met you today, Jacques. I was scared my bad luck was going to ruin the rest of my trip.”

“Me too, friend. Me too! Have you decided where you wanted to stay?” He smiled that beautiful smile.

I stared up at him and that feeling of warmth took over once again. His eyes took me to all the places we had visited today and deep down I knew I could trust him. Before I could answer him he whispered to me, “Let’s go.” I go up and followed him.

I don’t remember how I got to Jacques’ home, but he led me inside by the hand. “Sit down just there, friend. I sat down on the couch he led me to. He brought in my luggage then sat next to me. I felt his arm drape my shoulders. “I am so glad I found you.”

“I am so glad you found me.”

“You really enjoyed spending the day with me.”

“I really enjoyed spending the day with you.”

“Tell me you want me.”

It was in those words that my mind realized what was happening. My body was acting on its own. I had lost all control. I didn’t want him. I was straight. “I want you, Jacques.”

His eyes met mine again and he could see into me. “Oh, your mind is awake again. Good thing, your body is still listening. I am going to change you tonight. When you wake in the morning, you won’t recognize who you are and you’ll be okay with that because I’ll be here. But for now, I’m going to give you a choice. One, you can stay the way you are now. Trapped in your body. Experiencing everything with no control. Or two, you can submit and do everything willingly. My happy little friend.”

My eyes stayed cold and constant. Stabbing into Jacques with as much resistance I could muster. “Oh poor friend. Number one it is. Strip.” I stood up and stripped my clothes off. “I dress like this to bring attention to myself. You thought my body was perfect even when you’re straight. Imagine being gay like me. Well you will be soon.” His shorts slid off and his cock stood at attention. “Bend over for me, friend.”

I bent over and felt him insert himself into me. I fought so hard in my mind but, Jesus, did this feel amazing. I felt what little resistance I had left slip away as his cock took my virgin hole one thrust at a time. He began to pant and suddenly I was filled with bliss, then darkness.

“Sebastian. Sebastian. Wake up, my Sebastian.” I awoke to the smiling face of my hero. The man who saved me yesterday. “Get up, lovely. We have to get to the gym. I laid out and outfit for you.” I stood up and walked the muscled god that was my hero, my owner, Jacques walk out into the living room in his favorite red tank and shorts. I walked to the side of the bed and saw a matching purple set for me. I slid them on walked over to the mirror. Staring back at me was a muscled god. Beautifully tanned. I smiled and trotted off toward my master.