Tom was not having a good day. He sat, half strangled in Paul's uniform shirt, hardly daring to run his finger round the grubby collar. Distinctly aware that he'd lost something profound when he'd agreed to a role swap with his client Paul. The role play Tom had suggested was having the desired affect on Paul however. He sat with his legs firmly planted on the floor, every word confident and punctuated with a broad smile.
"Ok" said Paul, "I think we should take this to the next level, I want us to keep this role play up and intensify it. I need to take this out of the work place and show myself that I can keep this up for the long term. Get yourself down to the locker room and back into my, sorry your cycle gear, oh and make sure you bring the socks and underpants you're wearing now".
Tom was not able to argue with the new, confident, masterful Paul. He slipped down to the deserted locker room , and found himself in front of the locker 29, pulling on cold, damp and stinking cycle gear. He pushed Paul's black socks and grey underpants into the top of the bright yellow back pack. Why the hell had he agreed to this, why was he still doing it, at what point would he get his gear back and when would Paul let him go?
"Right buddy, time to take this further " said Paul as Tom got back to the interview room. " I'm off to drive to your place and you are going to follow on the bike."
It had been a long time since Tom had cycled anywhere. Paul kept pulling over in his Audi car to give Tom some time to catch up. The light Sunday traffic made the journey just about bearable. Paul pulled over a drug store, he bought some hair removal cream and thought about how Tom was really going to regret this role reversal as he paid from Tom's wallet.
As the late afternoon sun beat down Tom tried to rationalise just why he was letting Paul continue in this way. At some point they had crossed a line, this was not therapy anymore. It was something new and dangerous, dangerous because Tom was enjoying it in a strange way. He tried to find the part of his mind that was ready to comply with Paul's demands. Whatever it was, it was deep in his subconscious, something repressed, feral and in some way erotic. As they approached his apartment Tom secured the cycle in the basement car park and rode the lift up to his place. In the confined space of the lift, Tom became aware of the smell rising from him and was aroused when he saw his reflection in the mirrors of the lift.
"Nice place bud, " said Paul as Tom finally got to the apartment. Paul was lounged across one of the sofas, he felt completely invigorated and determined that Tom would continue to feel the degradation that Paul had been bottling up for years. As he smirked at Tom he noticed the beginning of an erection growing in the cycle shorts that Tom wore.
"I think you're really getting a different take on life bud, it's helping you to understand others and yourself I think?
"Yes Paul, I'm not sure what I'm feeling but its different", replied Tom. "From here on I think you should call me Tom, and I should call you Paul, even better if you call me sir from now on and you'll get a real sense of your new station in life, is that ok? Said Paul.
"Yes Paul, I mean Tom, I mean sir, came the reply and Tom felt his erection growing in the revealing shorts.
Walking through into the bedroom Paul opened s few closets. Picking out a Hugo boss t-shirt, Armani jeans, a pair of Andrew Christian underpants, some plain white socks, a fresh Spanks vest and some wonderfully soft Puma boxing boots. "Time for a shower I guess before we go out" said Paul, as he began to undress out off Tom's business attire.
Picking up the hair removal cream he walked to the shower, " come on then, no sense in wasting water, get out of that cycle kit, we have a couple more things to do to complete your role reversal" said Tom.
Tom climbed out of the cycle kit, his erection, another embarrassment, a reminder of the strange attraction he was feeling for this role play. Paul was standing in the shower, soaping himself. Tom was now fully erect as he climbed into the shower with Paul, who began to rub something into Tom's scalp. After a minute or so Paul pushed Tom's head under the shower head. Great matted hanks of hair began to wash down Tom's body.
Paul stepped out of the shower and began to towel himself dry. When he'd finished he passed the damp towel to Tom. Tom was mesmerised by his reflection, he was now as bald as Paul on top. Back in the bedroom Paul was making liberal use of deodorants and fine colognes. "The back pack has all you need, " said Tom as he busied himself dressing in the gear he had picked out earlier.
In the back pack Tom found the underpants and socks he had worn that day, some store brand jeans, a checked short sleeve shirt, a pair of soft, well worn linesman boots and a tin of cheap spray deodorant. The clothes smelt strongly, but not unpleasantly of Paul and cheap deodorant, the smell seemed to be keeping Tom firmly erect.
They were now both dressed, Paul, looking trim, relaxed and smiling. Slim in the vest that controlled his waist and posture. "0k we're off to the pub buddy, I've got a lot of cash in my wallet and it's burning a hole. " Beamed Paul. A couple of hours later Tom had downed a few pints of beer whilst Paul had sipped on a couple of whiskeys. Retuning to the apartment both men had the warm glow of alcohol in their veins and warming their appetites. Paul had become even more confident, demanding, controlling whilst Tom had shrunk, lost confidence in himself, undermined by an arousal he couldn't explain.
Placing his feet on the coffee table Paul stretched out and ran his hand down his artificially flattened stomach. "Come here boy, I've got a job or you, foot stool". Tom, his erection painfully full, knelt with Paul's feet resting on his shoulders. He stared, hypnotically at his own rich red Puma boots on Paul's feet. Suddenly overcome, he turned and began to lick them. His full tongue pressing the supple leather and the warm outline of Paul's feet. Paul reached out, caressing Tom's newly bald head and forcing it onto his feet.
Standing, Paul pressed him crotch into the face of the still kneeling man below him. Undoing his pants he allowed Tom to press his nose into his balls and begin to lick at his penis. Tom had never gone down on a man, he didn't know how to commit oral sex, but guessing what he hadn't tried he began to taste precum. It was not that he wasn't sober, but that he wanted to taste and smell Paul, to serve.
Yes serve, service was the thing that had got and kept Tom aroused. And selfishness too, as Paul was dressed, smelt and acted like him. He wasn't licking Paul's boots, he was licking his own. Paul pulled down the jeans and pants Tom wore. He was not gentle, Tom was very aroused but he made no effort to address that. Lifting his legs, Paul used his precum to start working Tom's arse. Thrusting him open Paul lifted Tom's legs until his boots rested on his shoulders. Pulling a boot off Tom's foot he inhaled his own sweat and thrust deeply into the prone Tom.
Paul had been gone an hour as Tom began to clear up his apartment. He had changed back into his cycle gear. The confidence slipping away from him as he adopted each old piece of clothing and each old habit. Tom smiled as he thought about the need to repeat the therapy to ensure the new behaviours stuck in Paul's mind.