Snow Job

“No way…Dude, it’s Santa!”

“Time to lay off the eggnog, Neil.” Craig whipped open the fridge and snagged another beer. “Besides, according to my sister, if Santa stopped at our house, he’d leave only coal.”

“How many times do we have to go through this? Forget what others think about our lifestyle.” Neil fiddled with the focus. “Here, see for yourself…” He stepped down, leaving Craig the telescope.

“Well?”

“That’s not Santa Claus, moron.”

“Look again, Craig.”

Craig adjusted the view. “Santa doesn’t wear black or leather–”

Neil pushed him back upon the step. “Then explain the rest.”

“Fine! A sleigh…overloaded with gifts…pulled by eight–” Craig rubbed his eyes and resumed spying the night sky. “Oh my god, Neil…It’s a Christmas miracle!”

“I bet you’re wondering why I’m braving the elements. Naked except for my harness, I’m rigged to this sleigh…and leading an eight-man team, who is undressed likewise. Eight rein-men, towering over me, most by half a foot and every one of them, built like a brick shithouse. Why would men, who missed their calling as professional athletes, follow my lead, obey my command, show me any semblance of respect?

“I’m not sure if it’s the joy in the recipients’ faces when we deliver their gifts or their words of gratefulness that keep me, but sometimes, even I pause to reflect on how I ended up here…”

Fed up with waiting in the cold, I’d all but accepted my fate of spending the holidays with Joe and Mike, the overpass our only protection from the elements.

Heavy boots crunched, as they covered the distance on packed snow. “All right, back in line men, straighten up-straighten up. Now! Time’s running short. Let’s get this started.” Cracks in rapid succession cut through the sting of winter air. A heated chill raced up my spine, halting me in my tracks…The allure of a man, leather-bound, cracking orders, and snapping a crop. I quickly rejoined the line of men awaiting audition. Of course, the money would come in handy too. I could feel the ground temperature through the soles of my boots and couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in a bed.

“Quite the selection we have this year.” Leather groaned, as the man made his way from the first to the second potential hire. Though I tarried twenty men down line, the bittersweet aroma wafting from this man’s attire set me on edge. Mesmerized, I fascinated in his every move.

“My name is Dirk. Though, you may not use my name without my authorization,” he snapped, as I watched him use the crop to lift the chin of a man, who stood inches over my modest five-foot-nine frame. Thankful for the toothbrush and paste I’d lifted not more than three hours ago, I looked on, as he pried the man’s mouth open to inspect his teeth. “In fact, if any of you so much as utter a grunt without my prompting, you will be dismissed.” Dirk stroked the crop along the side of the man’s neck, and I squirmed. “Take off you coat.” Dirk ordered, and the man obeyed. After copping various liberal handfuls of what appeared to be inhumanly layered muscle, he stepped to the next in line.

As he continued his inspections, I briefly pondered changing my mind. Regardless the money or this man’s irresistible aura, the eeriness of the waves reeking havoc through my body, had me reconsidering if the compensation for one night of hard labor was worth the costs.

I shuddered, when two men away, Dirk bellowed toward the front of the line. “I gave none of you permission to redress in your outerwear! You-You-You…” Dirk marched the direction from whence he’d begun. “You-and You…Go! You’re finished. You do not fit our needs at this time.”

Stomping, he swiped a hand over his brow, skipped the next two prospects, and stood before me. “Whom do we have here, hmm…?”

I dropped my gaze to Dirk’s black-as-soot boots. I was young, but far from stupid. “A runt if ever I’ve seen. What, are you afraid, little boy? Do I scare you?” Head remaining down, I tightened my muscles and reined in my breathing, slower and deeper. Dirk’s warm breath grazed the outer shell of my ear. “I asked you for answers. Now, speak!”

Apprehension vanquished, I accepted his challenge with concealed enthusiasm. “My name is Randall. I am twenty-two years old, a man of little means simply looking for work, sir. I don’t compare in stature to most others here, including you sir, but I can assure you, I am afraid of nothing or no one, not even you, sir.“

From the corner of my eye, I caught him raising a skeptical brow. My cheeks felt flushed, as leather caressed, and he tilted my clenched jaw skyward. “You’ll do.”

“David, Danny, Patrick, Victor, Carlos, Calvin, Donald, and Bryan, join Randall and head to the barn.” Dirk turned to those still in line. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen, maybe next year. You are dismissed.”

Dirk tugged the six-foot wide, metal-banded wood door closed behind him. We stiffened to attention, as he eyed our huddle around a bricked in firebox centered on the floor of the twenty-by-thirty foot barn. Chuckling, he gazed over the other men, hesitating when his eyes met mine. I looked away. “Get warm while you may. We’ve our work cut out for us, men.” He disappeared into a stall off to the left, as we exchanged puzzled glances, wondering what we’d missed.

Not five minutes later, Dirk returned, arms laden with leather harnesses. He dropped them into a mangled pile at our feet. “Strip down and strap up. I’ll be back.”

Mouths open, none took the initiative to intervene, as Bryan stepped forward. “Excuse me, sir. What do you–?”

Gloved hand clamped at his throat, feet hovering inches off the floor, Bryan struggled for oxygen. “You were not given my permission to speak, boy!” Dirk stayed his hold without a quiver until Bryan’s face turned purple. Dirk lowered him to a stand and eased his grip. With chest heaving, Bryan focused anywhere but on Dirk.

“Did the agency not inform you men of the job’s detail?” Dirk scanned our faces. “Apparently not,” he said, with a sigh. “It appears there has been an oversight. I will explain this once and only once, so listen well.

“As you know, this position is temporary. I requested eight youthful and strong men not afraid of hard work to help me with my duties for this evening. I am under employ of one, Mr. Claus, and assigned to head the North American branch of Christmas adult toy distribution.

“I need unshakable, sturdy, will-driven rein-men, unafraid of hard labor to pull my sleigh. You will experience biting cold, wind, rain, sleet, and snow. But, with a little magic, after fifteen minutes, your bodies adjust to the atmosphere. No harm will befall you, as long as you do exactly as instructed. Your assignment should last no longer than six hours. Upon returning, you will undergo a complete health check, be handed your pay-in cash, and be home before sunrise.”

Dirk turned to Bryan. “Now, answer me this question. Is three thousand dollars adequate compensation for six hours of your time?”

“Yes, sir, more than enough, sir,” Bryan said.

From the darkest of flesh to the palest, eight men with haltered, naked bodies of brawn gathered behind me. Between the jeering and whispering I tried hard to ignore, I heard it all. Why am I here if he needs only eight? And, why are they shoving me to the front?

“I’m not putting that thing on.” The others argued. From palm to palm, a leather-strapped invention passed between them. “Neither am I. Here, you wear it.” Attempting to remain calm, I inhaled the dark smell of my harness, as one of the eight men pressed the handful of leather into my palm.

“Oh, I see you’ve found your purpose, Randall,” Dirk said, strolling toward the group. I met his eye this time, only to rein in shock and focus on the contraption in my hand. As if reading my mind, Dirk retrieved from my grasp the modified cock harness. “Watch carefully Randall. I will illustrate how this works.”

Cupping my sac, Dirk rolled and pinched my skin until my testicles could no longer see each other across the room. I watched, as he circled each nut with leather then snapped it onto a thicker strap around the base of my dick. One jerk of his wrist took my breath away, literally, and I tried not to wince as my blood rushed south, engorging my cock.

I registered his eyes on me seconds before he delivered a sharp, leather-covered palm to my face. “Calm down, boy! You are well suited for this position, but this position only. With your girth, if you fail to dull your senses and your harness no longer fits, you’ll be out the door on your ass.” Reversing the blood flow to my smacked cheek compensated his command and he hurriedly cinched two strips of leather from the base ring to another, which he fastened just under the head of my cock.

Feeling gravity’s effect, I reached to examine the object dangling from the end of my cock. A burn like no other surged from tip to base and radiated throughout my body, as Dirk, cock whip in hand, more than dusted the head. “No touching unless I give the okay.” I dropped my hand to my side. “You, my dear man, have been assigned the most important task for this evening. My duties, the teams’ drive, safety, and ability to persevere, rely entirely on your performance. You fail, we all fail.” Like a cap, Dirk hooded the suspended object over the head of my cock, while flipping a switch.

Emanating from the cap, a blinding red glow lit up the darkness. Gasps and murmurs from the other men pulled me from my awe to join them. “Silence!” Gripping my chin, Dirk lowered his pointed stare to me and whispered. “You light my way, Randall. With the sensors under those straps, you control the beacon’s brightness. You won’t fail me, will you Randall?”

Dirk’s nod was all I needed to offer a tentative reply. “No, sir. I-I will make you proud, sir.”

He flipped off the switch and gripped the back of my neck. In shadows, he captured my bottom lip in between his. Unsure how to respond, I waited on edge. Part of me longed to taste this man in black, while my brain’s logical side warned of the certainty of pain if I acted or reacted undirected.

Dirk rolled my jutted flesh between his teeth. Holding steady, he fixated me with a hypnotic gaze seconds before clamping down, nipping, lacerating the inside of my lip. Warm, coppery flavor floated over my tongue, and Dirk pulled off with a start, shielding his eyes, as the beacon flared. “You understand, now?”

“Sir.” Impressed, I nodded.

Pretty much, that’s my story. I’ve been nodding for Dirk ever since, among other things, but at least I’ve slept in a warm bed for the last two years.

“Oh! How is it, the others have grown to respect me? Return year after year to audition for an opportunity to pull Dirk’s sleigh on Christmas Eve? Well, according to David and Calvin, the men were stunned by my ability to control the bondage master.

We’d noticed master Dirk had lightened his demeanor a bit, as we pranced and dashed about the snowy ground, trying to accustom our bare feet. David, Danny, and Patrick fastened in place, Dirk hollered for Victor. Snapping the lead onto his collar, he fed the leather line through the metal ring at his side. “Better to get used to the cold now.” Dirk commented shaking his head, as the bridled men danced from foot to foot blowing into their cupped hands. “You other four…Drop and roll!” He checked the straps of Victor’s harness, while mumbling. “It’s for the best.”

With the eight-man team harnessed to the sleigh, Dirk confronted me. I was nibbling a handful of freshly fallen snow. “Defeating your purpose,” he said, leading me to the head of the team. Dirk surveyed the men’s dispositions, noting emotions, informing me that everything from anxiousness to excitement showed in their stances. “You’ve got your work cut out for you tonight, Randall.” He threaded the lead through my harness and latched the lines to the rings on either side of my collar. “You ready to shine, my boy?” he asked, with a cocky grin and a leer in his eye.

Without permission, nor retribution for my forwardness, I said, “Hit me, sir.”