Bedtime Stories: The Magic Potion - Page 2
Story & Art by Amalaric
Series: Bedtime Stories
‘It’s awfully warm in here, don’t you think?’ The question was facetious and Jimmy didn’t feel compelled to answer. ‘I think you’d feel much better without that shirt,’ Ray quipped, as he stripped the landscaper to the waist. ‘You know, I remember watching last Spring, after you shed your work shirt, trimming the hedges outside…you really are in amazing shape, boy! But back then I had the crazy fantasy that maybe you’d go all the way- you know, shuck off the blue jeans as well. Maybe we can fix that now?’ Jimmy’s mumbled protests lacked any real conviction; still overwhelmed at the implications surrounding him in the sinister basement. ‘First thing is to get those boots off- move it!’ Jimmy, freshly amazed at the power of the potion coursing through his system, immediately complied and Ray finished the job by hiking his trousers down, which were then removed and tossed over a nearby bench. Ray stepped back to admire the progress that had been made. A mere hour ago, Jimmy McFadden had been a self-confident, twenty six year old entrepreneur workman with a steady girlfriend named Deb, swaggering through life with the easy grace and cock-sure attitude that all of those things provided…and none of that had really changed, except the fact that he now stood, trembling with anxiety, in Ray Torgisen’s basement stripped to nothing but his briefs and athletic socks, helplessly waiting for whatever Ray decided to do to him. From Ray’s point of view, the sight of Jimmy McFadden and the complete sense of power exercised over him were intoxicating.
Ray permitted Jimmy the scant privacy of his shorts for a while longer, though both he and the nervous young stud were in no doubt that they would eventually come off. ‘Please, man…you don’t have to do this,’ Jimmy stammered, ‘it’s not right…not natural.’ Ray merely smiled and sized up his prize. At six feet the landscaper was slightly taller than average with dark good looks and well-developed muscles that somehow made him seem even bigger than he actually was. His torso was smooth, with lightly tanned, naturally golden skin, which was undoubtedly the result of his Black Irish and Italian ancestral heritage. This was augmented by a full head of dark hair, that Jimmy kept cut short, thick eyebrows, full lips, prominent but straight nose, and large brown, expressive eyes. His wide shoulders accommodated a deep chest with defined pecs crowned with bronze nipples. Flat, hard abdominals descending to the dipping elastic of Jimmy’s briefs completed the perfect proportions of his upper body. The young landscaper’s legs were as well-proportioned as the rest of him; long, runner’s legs with good definition in thighs and calves matching the curved symmetry of his manly biceps and finely dusted with wiry fur. Ray found no reason to complain and said so to Jimmy, even commenting on the sizeable bulge denting his briefs, causing the waistband to dip suggestively over the merest whisper of a dark, feathery treasure trail.
‘OK!’ he exclaimed, ‘I think first up should be some intensive exercise…you know, to, ah, loosen things up.’ Jimmy waited, perplexed, flushed with embarrassment in his briefs and athletic socks. ‘Yeah,’ Ray chirped, ‘let’s start with some pushups- down to the floor, back straight, and I want to see your groin brush the pavement with every rep.’ Jimmy wordlessly assumed the position and, at Ray’s command, began the fifty count repetition. Fifteen completed and his body already sported a thick sheen of sweat. Ray placed his hand on the concrete floor to insure that Jimmy completed a perfect rep- relishing the brush of the stud’s cock and balls, nestled in worn cotton…but, occasionally, Jimmy failed to deliver. ‘Won’t do, Jim,’ delivered in the grim tones of a determined disciplinarian. Jimmy winced as the fast slice of a leather strap cut across his prone back, but far worse was the sudden jerk, pulling his briefs down to his knees. ‘Let’s try this,’ Ray said, ‘I want to feel the velvet-smooth head of your cock in the palm of my hand with every rep, understood?’ ‘Yeah,’ Jimmy panted, and pushed, brushing the sensitive head of his penis against Ray Torgisen’s open palm. The count of fifty was eventually accomplished with each rep marked by the soft push of Jimmy’s cock into the welcoming embrace of Ray Torgisen’s open hand. It had only been necessary to use the leather strap across the inviting expanse of the panting stud’s naked back three or four more times.
‘Stand up and face me.’ Ray’s command was immediately obeyed but a look of surprise creased both his and Jimmy’s faces as, turning toward the wizard, Jimmy had neatly hiked up his briefs. Well, well, thought Ray, seems there’s a small bug in the potion- if I don’t make a command explicit, my captive young stud here can modify the situation. He scratched his head, on the other hand…that could make things kind of interesting. ‘Did I tell you to pull up your shorts, Jim?’ ‘Uh…no, sir,’ Jimmy stammered, wondering what the consequences might be. ‘Why did you do it then?’ Ray’s tone was that of an exasperated school master. Staring dejectedly at the floor Jimmy replied, ‘Dunno, exactly.’ Well fark me! Ray marveled, there’s another bug…and far more serious; stubborn bastard can withhold information, maybe even tell lies if he phrases things right. ‘Listen careful, Jim- real careful: When I ask you a question or demand any information, no matter how personal or distasteful, you will immediately reply with the truth. Is that understood?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ mumbled in a hoarse whisper. ‘Good,’ Ray beamed, ‘now tell me, why did you hike up your shorts without being told to do so?’ Jimmy stared at the floor, pausing for two or three seconds, perhaps testing his ability to resist, before heaving a deep sigh of surrender, ‘Because I didn’t want you looking at my dick…maybe touching it again…you got no right!’ he blurted before trailing off. ‘But Jim,’ Ray’s tone was now suddenly reasonable, ‘Rights have nothing to do with it. I can look at and touch your big cock and handle your warm, firm balls any time and for as long as I like.’ Ray smiled even as his sweating captive shook his head in futile denial, shouting, ‘That don’t make it right, FUCKER!!!’ ‘Besides,’ Ray was still smiling, ‘you might as well admit it; maybe you’d enjoy the feeling of my hand on your thick cock just a little?’ Before Jimmy could reply, he added, ‘Or is something wrong with your manly equipment, something you’d be embarrassed for me to see?’ The young landscaper ground his teeth as a wave of hot rage surged through his tensed body, ‘Ain’t been no complaints about my equipment,’ Jimmy growled, ‘and NO FUCKING WAY,’ he was now shouting, ‘would I EVER get off on having your fat, clammy hand on my dick- or anywhere else for that matter. Bastard! I’d like nothing better than to beat the shit out of you!!!’ ‘And then what?’ Ray quipped, ‘Jump in your pickup and go home to watch the big game?’ 
Ray shook his head, clearly amused, ‘But you can’t do that, Jim…can you?’ ‘No,’ muttered in a tone of purest desperation. ‘And why is that?’ Ray was relentless. ‘Because I got to do whatever you say,’ suddenly near tears, Jimmy once again pawed the sweat from his forehead. ‘Good,’ Ray sighed, ‘we’re making a lot of progress…now, how about some more calisthenics to loosen you up? Right! First, down on the floor- I want to see thirty crisp reps of full sit ups, and then back on your feet for sixty jumping jacks. Let’s have a look at that muscular body of yours in MOTION!!’
When Jimmy McFadden was drenched with sweat and heaving with exertion Ray decided, at last, to call an end to the forced workout. Motioning toward a door at the far end of the basement room he nodded, silently motioning his captive to enter. ‘What’s in there?’ Jimmy asked, trying to control the tremble in his deep voice, as he walked toward the door. ‘I call it the examination room, Jim,’ was the cryptic reply ‘and’, Ray added ominously, ‘…it’s time.’