This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use, and other adult themes.

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A new life

by ShavdLthr

Champagne glass hoisted high Victor Stephenson was the personification of the aggressive entrepreneur who had just completed the sale of his firm to a multi-national firm. When he started his company twenty-three years ago in the kitchen of his one bedroom apartment he had vowed to be a multi millionaire by age fifty. Only protracted negotiations with the European Union had prevented him from achieving that goal by four months.

For all his professional success Victor Stephenson was a lonely man personally; two failed marriages and a string of mistresses had not provided him the happiness outside of business he sought. He and his one son by his second wife had not spoken or seen one another in over ten years; their only form of contact in all this time had come just prior to the company sale when their respective lawyers met for the son to provide Victor with power-of-attorney for his five percent interest in the Father's firm so the sale could be consummated. Proceeds from his stock insured the son would have a far easier entry into adulthood than had Victor.

Three months into his new life of leisure Victor was bored to death. He had already learned one can travel only so much, visit his various clubs and date new women almost nightly without feeling even more lonely then he had when surrounded by loyal staff and supporters. Exiting his shower one morning Victor studied his body and realized once again that he still looked better than the average 51 year old man, but the past months of leisure living had taken their toll on his waistline, muscle tone and skin color. Victor decided then and there that his body was going to be his newest project.

Victor also knew he did not want to start visiting any of the gyms where he'd encounter former colleagues and/or competitors. He'd had more than his fill of their questions of how he was doing and what was he going to be doing. Searching through the yellow pages for a new gym offering personal training Victor's suddenly remembered a man who had worked for him in marketing whom Victor recalled appeared to have a considerably developed body. "What was the guys name?" An Italian name ... Tony, Tony Russo? No ... Tony Salvatore! Trying to be casual, Victor called his former secretary and after a few minutes of innane conversation he asked if she happened to know how he could contact Tony Salvatore. He was surprised to learn that Tony had given notice the day after the sale was completed saying the cash from his stock options allowed him to now live the life he had always wanted. Searching personnel files his secretary provided Victor with Tony's home address and phone number.

One week to the day later Victor made the phone call that would be the beginning of his new life.


Driving through a part of town Victor had only vaguely heard about previously, he wondered if he'd made a mistake in the address of the gym Tony Salvatore now owned. This part of town was definitely blue-collar working class and the street he was now driving down even more so, it seemed the only businesses that existed were neighborhood bars, tattoo studios and barber shops. Just as he knew he was lost, directly in front of him appeared a dramatic stainless steel and black sign proclaiming the home of Heavy Iron gym. Victor was relieved to see the guarded parking lot immediately adjacent to the building, just as Tony had said it would be when they spoke on the telephone.

Pulling to a stop at the parking lot entrance Victor gave his name to the guard who immediately checked his list and replied, "Oh yes, Good morning Mr. Stephenson, Mr. Salvatore said to hold space #2 for you; he's expecting you Sir."

Easing his Jaguar into the specified parking space Victor couldn't get his mind off the size and build of the security guard or his unique uniform. Victor had known buildings that did not seem to be as large as had the security guard, but none of them had been dressed in tight leather pants with shiny boots to the knees and a black tee shirt that appeared more painted on than merely covering the mans body. Walking back to enter the building Victor also noticed the man's haircut; it appeared to be an extremely short horseshoe shape of hair as black as the guards leather pants with all the rest of his head shaved to the skin and darkly tanned. Three big silver rings ("Why do some men insist upon wearing earrings?") were suspended from his left ear and one even larger diameter ring penetrated his right ear.

Pushing to open the entrance to Heavy Iron, two legends appearing below the name surprised Victor "Men Only-NO exceptions" and "No one under 25 years old accepted for membership". Both remarks assured Victor this was a serious gym for real men; not one whose real reason for existence was as a dating ground for oversexed young men and women.

"Vic! Damn it's good to see you again Vic!" came roaring across the small reception area of the club as soon as Victor had stepped in from the outside.

"Vic?" No one had addressed Victor as Vic since his freshman year in college when Victor had made it plain he detested the shortened version of his name. As Victors eyes adjusted to the lower light levels of the reception area he realized the greeting had originated from a massive man standing in the doorway which apparently led to the main gym. The man did and didn't look familiar to Victor. Moving to return the man's greeting Victor recognized the man to be Tony but looking considerably different and bigger then he had in a business suit and Victor had only seen Tony previously.

Tony had to be at least 6'4" tall and be carrying about 300 lbs of the most solid muscle Victor had had seen on a man. Naked to the waist Tony's massive chess was covered in what would have been a thicket of black hair were it not clipped so shortly. Even more surprising was that Tony's arms and shoulders were covered with heavy tribal style tattoos and one huge single silver ring, similar to the one in the guards right ear, hung from Tony's left ear. Nor did Victor recall Tony's hair being as black as it was now and it certainly had not be cut as it was now. A jet black Mohawk style haircut about one inch high swept back across Tony's head and down the back into what appeared to be a soft tail of hair. The Mohawk itself was so rigid and perfectly formed it appeared to be waxed or hardened by some method.

Tony's midsection was covered in what cold only be described as a leather jock strap with an abundantly filled pouch. His left leg from waist to ankle was adorned with the same style of heavy black tattooing as was on his arms and shoulders. Victor also noticed that both legs appeared to be free of any hair even though Tony's chest was a forest of black hair.

"Tony, it's good to see you again guy. I had no idea until the other day you'd left the company and gotten into the gym business." Victor stated while extending his right hand towards Tony.

Taking Victors extended had while at the same time placing his left hand firmly on Victor's right shoulder Tony locked his eyes directly with Victors. After what seemed to Victor as several minutes of silence Tony directly stated "Vic, let's get one thing straight up front, around here I'm the Boss and that's what everyone calls me, BOSS! That includes you, starting right now!"

Struggling to break Tony's almost hypnotic hold upon him, Vic replied "Yes BOSS, understood BOSS"!


Following BOSS (Tony) to his office located at the rear of and a floor above the main gym, Vic saw about 15 men working out, each partnered with their own personal trainer. Trainers were easily identified as they all wore black sleeveless tee shirts with black shorts and gym shoes. Also every trainer seemed to have the same color black hair as did the BOSS and the security guard Vic encountered when he first arrived. More unusual was that virtually all the members seemed to be wearing gray workout clothes with the exception of two or three in all white.

Arriving in the BOSS'S office Vic noticed the entire wall facing the gym floor was actually one way glass, not the series of mirrors as it appeared from the gym floor. Motioning Vic to take a seat in front of a desk, BOSS eased his massive frame into a high back black leather chair behind the desk.

"Vic, I was pleased when you called last week." BOSS began, "I always found you a good and fair man in your business and owe my present ability and freedom to live my life as I've always wanted to your success. I also feel there's a great emptiness in your personal life but I intend to change all of that once you agree to become a client of Heavy Iron and mine. Just as your company had employment contracts for upper management we too have contracts for all men accepted as members of Heavy Iron. You many find some of our terms and conditions unique but I have found them mandatory in order to accomplish the transformations necessary for men we accept."

With that said the BOSS removed a thick multi-page document from a desk drawer and handed it to Vic. With all his years of business experience Victor/Vic felt he knew all the benefits, as well as pitfalls, of such extensive documents; one reason he had maintained such an extensive staff of in-house lawyers. Glancing through just the first page of the document Victors/Vic's first instinct was to tell the BOSS he'd have his personal attorney review the document and get back to him.

Sensing Vic's hesitation BOSS rose from his chair and moved to a standing position directly in front of Vic. Without fully understanding why, Vic immediately stood since BOSS had done so and the two men now stood facing one another as BOSS again placed his left hand on Vics right should and locked Vics eyes in a stern, direct gaze. Within seconds Vic stated "I agree BOSS, contracts are a vital necessity in all agreements between companies or men. Where do I sign?"

Once the documents were signed, BOSS retrieved both copies saying Vic's copy would be kept in his personnel file since he was going to be on the property virtually all of the next two years. Vic accepted all of this as normal and didn't question a thing.

The Boss then explained to Vic that he had decided to be Vics personal trainer and would be taking complete control of all areas of his life including his diet, his physical conditioning and appearance, his housing and his social life. BOSS then told Vic he had 48 hrs to clear all his personal matters, including giving his long time friend and attorney complete responsibility for his financial matters, to prepare his residence for Vic to be away at least a year and contact his few personal friends and family informing them he would be traveling for the next year. He was to report for his initial training session at 09.00 Friday; just over 48 from now.

Vic said nothing during all of this, only smiling happily knowing this man, The Boss, his BOSS, was taking control of his life. That much he had gathered during his quick scan of The CONTRACT.

XXX

The clock was at exactly 09.00 on Friday morning as Vic walked through the main entrance to Heavy Iron gym. Since his leased Jaguar had been turned back to the dealer Vic had taken a cab this morning. "You're late Vic" were the first words he heard from BOSS who was standing in exactly the same position as he'd been just over 2 days before when Vic first visited Heavy Iron.

Looking again at the large wall clock which still said 09.00 Vic glanced at Vic with a confused expression. "Vic, you trained all your salesmen that if they we're 5 minutes early for an appointment they were late. You will follow that same procedure in all things from now on" said BOSS in a low tone which inferred anger.

"Yes BOSS, Understood BOSS" replied Vic, wondering to himself why he was now answering so subserviently to the man who just weeks ago had reported to him.

With no further conversation BOSS headed towards his office; Vic fell in one step behind him and followed in silence. Entering the office, instead of heading towards the seating area BOSS pressed a wall panel which pivoted revealing a large multi level loft apartment. Entering the apartment Vic was amazed both at it's size and how dramatic the space was decorated using only colors of white, gray and black along with a tremendous amount of black granite and stainless steel.

"Vic, since I am going to be controlling every aspect of your transformation and life from this point forward I have decided you will be quartered here."

Heading towards stairs that lead to what was obviously BOSS'S bedroom area, Vic wondered if he was meant to share a bed with BOSS. Sidestepping the stairs Vic pressed another hidden wall panel and the section immediately pivoted, as had the first panel.

Stepping aside BOSS stated "This will be your quarters".

Stepping into the space Vic was shocked at how spartan it was in comparison to all other parts of the apartment. The room was about 15 ft square, painted entirely white with the only window space being filled with glass block; natural light but no view. Two opposing walls were mirrored floor to ceiling, a commode and small sink were in one corner with no partition for privacy, the only furniture in the space was a steel single size bed with white sheets but no pillow.

Stationed every two feet at both floor level and about six feet off the floor where some type of heavy rings embedded in the walls; similar type rings were part of the bed frame.

"Store your personal items over there" said BOSS, indicating a small shelf attached to the wall beside the basin; adjacent to the shelf were three wooden pegs protruding from the wall.

Quickly placing the few items he'd been told to bring on the shelf and pegs Vic turned to join BOSS in the apartment; instead he found BOSS staring him in the eyes. "Vic, mental conditioning is an even more important element of the transformation you are going to experience than is the physical; it's time you begin to find the new Vic."

With this BOSS placed both hands on Vic's shoulders and Vic found himself sinking to his knees in front of BOSS while never breaking eye contact with this man who seemed to know more of him than he did himself. Vic wondered if there was such a thing as assuming a Marine brace position while kneeling, as that is how he now found himself.

Vic had no idea of how long he had knelt before BOSS or what had transpired during that time, all he knew was he was now standing along side BOSS in the entrance lobby dressed totally differently than he had been only a short(?) time ago. Instead of the jeans, tee shirt and combat boots he had worn into Heavy Iron that morning he was now wearing a tight white tank top that ended just below his nipples, white short shorts that revealed more than they concealed and white laced boots that reminded Vic of those worn by professional wrestler's. Through each pair of top lacing eyelets of the boots was a small Master brand padlock instead of laces.

"You remember your instructions Vic?" asked BOSS.

"Yes BOSS, completely BOSS" replied Vic.

"Good, you are expected by the men I told you of, you will see each of them in the order given and return to me with they've completed their assignments."

Exiting the gym Vic felt very strange being in public dressed as he was but knew if BOSS wanted him dressed this way it had to be right. Turning right Vic instinctively knew it was just over two blocks to Vito's Barbershop.

Arriving at the shop Vic noticed that all the glass windows in front had been painted black as had the glass in the door. The only indication this was a business was red lettering over the black painted windows that said Vito's Barbershop ... "You will leave here a new man". By Appointment Only.

Pushing open the door, Vic saw an older man who obviously spent a great deal of time lifting iron sitting in the one barber chair centered in the space. "I'm Vic, BOSS sent me" Vic stated.

The barber rose from his chair while giving Vic the once over and smiled as he said "Close the door and lock it."

"Strip off the shirt and those shorts, leave the boots since you can't remove them any, and let me get a good look at you" said Vito.

Vic immediately complied. For a man who would soon be 51 years old, Vic had an above average body even with his slight beer gut. His Irish heritage had given him considerable body hair with his chest being a forest of dark brown hair highlighted with red tones. Vic had spent months finding just the right stylist to cut his wavy brown/red hair in styles changing over the years but always just one step back from being cutting edge. Presently his hair was styled in what some would call a long buzz cut while others would think of it as a short, classic businessman's cut. Looking at himself in the full length mirror, standing virtually naked as he hadn't done in years except while toweling off after a shower, Vic realized he was actually a damn good looking man.

"OK boy, you've started long enough, get you ass behind those black curtains and onto the table you'll find there" ordered Vito. With only a moments hesitation Vic complied.

"Usually when the BOSS sends a man to me he tells me to do what I think is best for their bodies and hair" commented Vic as rolled a stainless steel table of tools next to the table upon which Vic was lying. "With you it's entirely different. The BOSS has claimed you as his personal project and has very definite ideas of how I am to begin your transformation. It won't do you any good to try and get me to change what I am about to do with you as I work for the BOSS too and I know better than to not follow his orders to the letter."

Vito then began rubbing all of Vic's lower body with some form of astringent. When finished with the softening agent he took the first of several straight edged razors from the rolling table and began to shave all the hair from Vic's lower body. Moving quickly and silently, his only orders to Vic being to lean in a certain direction, spead his legs or to role over, in just over an hour Vic found himself free of all body hair from his chin down. Offering no resistance either during the shaving process or now, Vic felt this was the way he was meant to be; especially if BOSS had ordered it so.

"Now, get your ass in the barber chair up front boy, we've lots yet to accomplish."

Once Vic was seated on the chair Vito took a heavy black Oster clipper with no guard in place and began to shear the sides of Vic's head. With no mirrors around him Vic had no idea how Vito was trimming his hair, only that it felt the clippers were going far shorter, and higher, than his hair had even been cut before. In what seemed to Vic as mere minutes he heard the hum of a machine grinding behind him and then felt warmth as Vito began spreading hot foam over much of his head first, then his face and neck. Working as quickly with another straight razor on Vic's head and face as he had his body it was no time until Vito indicated Vic should feel his new face and sides of his head. Doing so Vice realized they were a smooth as porcelain. Extending his hands up the sides of his head Vic could only sense what had to be a ribbon of long hair extending from front to back down his head. He thought Vito had to be done with his hair and body shaving. He was wrong.

"You may have noticed that all the men working out at Heavy Iron wear either white, gray or black" commented Vito. "White is worn by newbies to the gym (laughingly called virgins) light or dark gray is the uniform colors for men as they advance in their training and black is worn almost exclusively by trainers and others in the employ of Heavy Iron. Since the BOSS has taken you as his personal project and pupil he has issued very specific orders for your appearance". That said Vito began mixing a combination of powder and cream in a large metal bowl. Within minutes the mixture was being spread through the hair remaining on Vics head as well as through his eyebrows. Only then did Vic realize how foul smelling was the mixture. Next a plastic bag was fitted over the top of Vics head and twisted from the back to be so tight as to make Vic's head begin to ache.

"You might as well get some rest boy, you're going to be sitting like this for at least an hour."

Vic apparently fell asleep for the next thing he knew his head was extended back over a wash basin with warm water being massaged through this hair by Vito. Next his face and eyebrows were rinsed and washed as well.

Again seated upright in the barber chair Vito began trimming Vic's remaining hair with small clippers and then moved to do the same to Vic's eyebrows. Next Vito rubbed a jell-like substance into Vic's hear hair and again began trimming the hair with a combination of clippers and scissors.

"OK boy, get you ass out of this chair and get dressed. You've got two more appointments."

With no mirrors in the space Vic had still not seen how he now looked after almost three hours of Vito's ministrations. What he did know was the tight abbreviated tank top and shorts now felt entirely differently upon his body than they had when he has first put them on and hair had covered his body. Vic couldn't help it, his dick hardened under the tight shorts and suddenly the shorts filled out between his legs.

Exiting the barbershop Vic began walking to what he knew was his next appointment. About half way down the block Vic say his reflection in a plate glass window and stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't be seeing his own reflection, could he? Instead of the once hard-charging middle aged executive the reflection Vic saw was of a man totally whose body was totally devoid of hair except for a strip of hair running from front to back on his head. His once bushy eyebrows were now clipped short and appeared to be arched in the middle.

Suddenly it dawned upon Vic, his hair was now cut exactly as was the BOSS's except the Mohawk cut BOSS wore was jet black and his was white, as white as the tank top, shorts and boots he now wore. Not only was his new Mohawk haircut strark white, so were his eyebrows ... or that hair which remained above his eyes. Vic began smiling as he started walking to his next appointment-Metal Show.

As dark and foreboding as had been Vito's barbershop, Metal Show was in fact a show for all to see. Located on a corner both street side walls were floor to ceiling glass, brightly lighted from within and all white and silver in color. Centered in the space was a chair of all white leather similar in design to a dentist chair.

The apparent owner of the shop had hair died as brightly red as Vic's had been turned stark white. The owner was also a walking showcase for the metal he sold and inserted into others. At first glance it seemed there was not a body part that wasn't ornamented with silver rings, barbells or other more exotic shapes. Since the owner (named Eddy, Vic would later learn) wore nothing but silver metallic tights and black wrestling boots with locks in the top similar to those worn by Vic there was not much of his body not visible (or recognizable by outline) under the skin tights.

Eddy's brilliant red hair was cut in a severe recon with shaved sides and back and a landing strip top that left a horseshoe of hair less than an inch wide but three to four inches tall atop his head. His eyebrows were the same red as was the hair his head. The remainder of his body was as hairless as was Vic's. One difference was a one inch wide band of silver that encircled Eddy's neck and both wrists; none of the bands had an apparent seam or locking mechanism.

"I see Vito has completed his part of your transformation boy, now it's my turn. Strip!"

Only weeks (or was it days) Vic would have refused to even associate with a guy looking like Eddy let alone follow such orders but in seconds he found himself standing completely naked except for his locked-on boots. He knew what he was doing was to please BOSS and that was all that mattered.

"Ass in the chair boy, and drink this." Handing Vic a plastic bottle that appeared to be distilled water, Eddy began explaining how he too had specific orders from the BOSS on what was to be done with Vic. Vic drank the water as Eddy was talking and while screens began to drop from the ceiling which would shield Vic from being seen by anyone who might pass by outside.

It seemed to Vic that Eddy must be moving farther away from him as he was finding it harder and harder to hear what Eddy was saying. Within minutes Vic was out cold.

Looking at Vic's now lifeless naked form in the chair Eddy was amazed to think that this was the same man for whom he had once worked, of course that was before the BOSS took over Eddy's life as he was now doing with the man in front of him. Edward Jameson had been a midlevel sales representative for the company owned by Victor Stephenson. Eddy had been the BOSS'S first 'white' boy, but he knew plans for Vic's future was far different than had been his. He knew the BOSS better than did most and the BOSS was attracted to Vic in a way unlike he had been with any other man he had trained and made a part of Heavy Iron family.

"Sorry about the knock-out water guy, but our orders from the Boss required a lot of work to be done to you as fast as possible. The easiest way was to make sure you offered no resistance." Eddy was saying at Vic's eyes fought to open.

It seemed every part of his body ached, yet it was a good form of pain. "How long have I been here?" thought Vic as he noticed it was dark outside and the lights seemed even brighter than before. "Who is the man standing next to Eddy?" wondered Vic as well.

As if reading Vic's mind, Eddy said "Vic, this is Sal, my partner in business and now in life. Had you entered from the other side of the building you'd have seen the sign Heavy Ink for Heavy Iron Men."

There was no doubt Sal was part of the Heavy Iron family. Sal's hair was cut exactly as was Eddy's only shorter in height as was as black as was that of the BOSS; the rest of his body was hairless. Also like the BOSS a larger silver ring hung from Sal's left ear; unlike the BOSS a large silver spike pierced his septum. Heavy black tribal tattooing covering almost all of Sal's body that could be seen above his black leather pants; most striking of all were the black 'flames' that swept up Sal's neck and onto his face and the sides of his shaved head.

Now fully cognizant of where he was Vic looked around and realized aside from it being dark outside everything looked just as it had before he drank the drugged water. Had nothing happened?

"Get your ass up boy, the BOSS is waiting to inspect the changes that have been made to you today" boomed Sal.

Easing himself from the chair Vic came to stare at a reflection in the mirrored wall that was virtually unrecognizable. He remembered the stark white Mohawk haircut and clipped eyebrows but all else was unknown; no wonder his body ached as it did.

A large silver tube now pierced his right ear lobe. The tube had to be at least three-quarters of an inch in circumference and you could have seen through it easily were it not for a silver ring fitted inside the cylinder; the ring itself had to be at least two inches in diameter. Almost as large were the two silver rings that now pierced each of Vic's nipples. Realizing his cock felt hard Vic wondered why it seemed to be tucked back under his ball sac. Reaching down he felt a large ring that now ran through his piss slit; that ring was padlocked to another ring that now pierced his the back of his ball sac.

"How will I be able to have sex or jack off?" wondered Vic.

"Don't worry boy, those rings are silver too and just as permanent as all the others in your body." stated Eddy.

Bringing his hand up from feeling his now pierced dick Vic noticed for the first time that chains now circled both of his wrists, but they weren't metal. Whoever had done the tattooing was a genius with using wash techniques, the shading and dimension given these inch wide chain links was so good they appeared as actual chain upon first glance. Suddenly Vic realized the tattoos had been positioned low enough on the wrist so they could never be completely covered by a long sleeve shirt.

"Here boy, you missed something" said Sal, handing Vic a hand mirror and turning Vic's body at the same time. Raising the mirror so he could see his back, a large heavy black Roman-style "B" came in to view, placed exactly on the back of his neck where the white Mohawk ended. It too was high enough on the neck to not be covered by a shirt collar.

Vic's initial instinct was anger over these men having so changed his body in ways that couldn't be erased. He turned fully intending to attack them both but instead some form of conditioning kicked in and he found himself graciously, and submissively, thanking them both for carrying out BOSS'S wishes for him so well.

Putting back on the ultra tight abbreviated tank and shorts Vic couldn't wait to strut back to Heavy Iron gym and show off the 'new' Vic. Turning to say good bye to Sal and Eddy, Sal told him instead, "Don't worry boy ... you'll be seeing more of us. A lot more!"

XXX

Making his way back to Heavy Iron Vic was aware of strong emotional conflicts within himself. Why was he allowing himself to be so drastically altered in appearance while at the same time feeling a sense of euphoria from these changes that had previously been unthinkable to him? Why did he find all of his thoughts centered upon the man he now called BOSS but whom only weeks ago had reported to him? Why did the heavy silver ring piercing his ear create such a sense of arousal in him when he'd always disliked body piercing for men and had forbidden them for his employees? How was he going to enjoy sex with women now that the silver ring piercing the end of his cock was locked to a second ring embedded at the back of his ball sac?

Pushing open the doors to Heavy Iron Vic immediately spied the BOSS standing in the doorway leading to the main gym floor; a quiet smile was on the BOSS'S face. Walking towards BOSS the quickly found himself grasped tightly upon each shoulder by BOSS'S massive hands; again their eyes locked in unblinking contact.

"Good to have you back Vic. I hope you like the beginning of your new life with me" said BOSS.

"Yes BOSS, I definitely do BOSS" was all Vic could manage to say. Vic knew all was right with his world, he was back with his BOSS.

======================================

Life for Vic developed a very set routine. Awakening just before six each morning he would do only the most basic body functions before the door to his quarters would open and he'd join BOSS for a high protein drink mixed with fresh juice; the next hours were then devoted to intense lifting and body strengthening routines. One they completed their morning workout BOSS and Vic would return to the apartment for another protein enhanced beverage before showering up for the day ahead; for Vic this time included a complete body shave from the lips down. Only from the time the after-workout drink ended until after his shower was Vic allowed out of some pair of white boots. At all times he was inside the walls of Heavy Iron Vic never wore anything other than a jock strap type garment made of white spandex and his boots.

BOSS had an arrangement with a sports nutritionist (like most he too had jet-black hair and always wore black) who each morning brought in their meals for the day. After showering and dressing Vic would again join BOSS in the apartment for lunch followed by what BOSS called Vic's mind building sessions. BOSS was adamant about Vic's need for sleep each afternoon as he said sleep was the prime way the body was allowed to develop and grow the extremes he had planned for Vic. Vic was never sure how long his mind building sessions with BOSS lasted as he always seemed to fall asleep before they ended. Some days Vic would awaken from his nap by early afternoon, other days it would be early evening. BOSS explained he slept longer on the days he had done the hardest workouts. All Vic knew was he always awoke refreshed and ready for an hour of cardiovascular development after another of the premixed and waiting protein drinks.

After each cardio session ended, Vic would strip off his jock strap and spend the next ten minutes in an on-site Super Tan booth. Soon Vic's formerly pale skin was taking on a deep tan tone. After a month of tanning naturally, BOSS told Vic to begin liberally applying a lotion BOSS provided before each tanning session. In no time Vic's skin began to have the same swarthy, olive-ish undertones of BOSS'S skin. After tanning Vic would again shower and make himself ready for the evening and night with BOSS.

Every Friday at 16.00 hrs precisely Vic again entered Vito's barbershop and Vito would insure that Vic's hair remained as stark white as it had become upon his first time in the shop. The lotion Vito supplied him to use when performing his daily body shave seemed to be working as Vito had said it would. Vic had noticed that less and less hair was growing on his legs, arms, crotch and back than had originally.

Every second Friday Vic would leave Vito's and go visit with Sal and Eddy for a while but he could never remember much of these meetings; in fact he could not even remember going back to the BOSS.

One morning when awakening after having been with Sal and Eddy the afternoon before Vic was immediately aware of a soreness in his face, especially around his nose. Getting off his bed Vic stumbled over to the mirror above his basin to see his nose and surrounding face area covered with bandages. "Did I get into a street fight coming back to BOSS last night?" he wondered. Relieving himself it took all Vic's strength to get back to his bed before again falling asleep.

Awakening what he thought was the next time Vic felt very little discomfort in his nose and face; a minor tingle at most. Walking to the basin Vic looked at himself in the mirror and saw no bandages. "Had it all been a dream?" Continuing to look at himself Vic grew more confused. "My nose hasn't always been like this. It used to be small, actually too small for the rest of my face. Now it's what would be called a Roman nose, and a Roman nose that has been broken at least once" he thought. "My nose looks like it should be on BOSS, it's the same as his. Where are my eyebrows? I know I had white eyebrows before!"

XXX

BOSS'S circle of friends was mainly comprised of the men who worked for him. Most evenings would be spent with these men either in a meeting dealing with the gym or in the BOSS'S apartment where the men he invited would join him for dinner. Vic was always at BOSS'S side, assisting where he could but otherwise remaining quiet. No matter how he tried to retire into the background Vic's presence was always obvious, with his white Mohawk and white boots & jock strap he was a focal among all the others with their black hair and black spandex or leather and black boots.

Frequently after one of Vic's bi-weekly visits with Sal and Eddy one of the men would comment about how he liked the changes the BOSS was making in Vic but Vic was never sure what changes they were referring to and the BOSS always quickly changed the subject.

Many evenings after one of these private dinners ended BOSS would indicate that one of the men was to remain behind after the others left but Vic was never sure for what reason as he was always ordered to his quarters by BOSS at the same time as the other men left for the night. Apparently his quarters were soundproofed as he could never hear any sounds once inside, nor did he ever hear the remaining guest leave.

On those rare occasions BOSS decided they would be going out for the night Vic was permitted to wear a white spandex tank top that plainly showed the outline of his nipple rings underneath. White sailor-type pants were also allowed. The difference in regulation sailor pants and the ones Vic wore was that Vic's laced in both the front and back and fit far tighter than any Vic had ever seen a sailor wear. If the weather outside was too cool for just the white tank top, Vic was permitted to wear a warm-up-style jacket BOSS had made for Vic. Instead of being black as were the regulation gym jackets, Vic's was white. On the right side of the zipper front was a black Roman style "B" with "vic" in smaller letters directly below. On the back of the jacket, instead of the normal Heavy Iron Gym logo, Vic's jacket plainly stated "Property of Heavy Iron."

Vic had noticed on recent outings at night with BOSS that more and more men seemed to find him of interest, yet at the same time seemed to keep their distance more than they had in the past. Vic knew his body had changed significantly and assumed it was this body development that created so much envy in men they encountered. Vic's body was almost as massive and impressive, as was BOSS'S body. Especially since the street fight that left Vic with his new nose they could almost pass as brothers ... brothers with extremely developed bodies.

Entering the apartment after one such night out Vic headed for his quarters and turned to say good night to the BOSS before entering.

He was surprised when BOSS handed him the keys to the boot padlocks and told him to strip, including the boots, shower and then to join the BOSS in on his bedroom level. Vic was shocked, never before had he been allowed above the main level of BOSS'S unit. He hurried to complete his assigned tasks.

Moving as quickly and silently as possible Vic arrived at the entrance to BOSS'S bedroom level and was stunned by what he saw. Not only was BOSS totally naked he was lying upon a bed completely covered in black leather: black leather sheets, black leather covered pillows, a black leather bed covering was folded at the foot of the bed. Even more usual was the bed itself. Both the head and foot boards were fashioned of chrome barbells with the headboard being two pair of barbells with the area in between filled with panels of padded black leather.

"Come in Vic, we've got a lot to cover tonight." Following BOSS'S direction Vic laid down upon the leather sheet beside BOSS. This felt very natural to Vic. "Why?" he wondered.

"Vic have you wondered why much of your time since coming to Heavy Iron and me is impossible for you to recall?" asked BOSS.

"Not really BOSS, I figured if it was meant for me to know, or was important, you'd tell me" replied Vic. Interesting thought BOSS, the subliminal programming must have gotten deeper into Vic's subconscious than I had assumed. I had expected a more aggressive response.

"Vic I told you how much I had respected you when you owned the company and I was your employee. What I didn't tell you was that I've wanted you as my sex partner and partner in life since the day you hired me. When you called asking if I'd considering helping you create a new you physically you opened the door for me to not only have you as a friend and partner, but to also transform you into the man I've long wanted at my side. It was one year ago today you first walked through the doors of Heavy Iron. Some of the changes you've experienced these past twelve months you recall and see daily in the mirrors of the gym. Many more changes, both physically and mentally, have occurred which you have been programmed to not see or know. Tonight that all changes. In a moment I'll say a key word to you that will bring the new you to life as it will be from now on. I hope you like your new self and your new life."

Vic had listened silently to all BOSS had just said as he knew whatever BOSS wanted had to be right for him. Had it been a year since he'd first became aware of BOSS? How could he have lived so long without this man?

"Hello Vito" said BOSS.

XXX

Awakening Vito thought this must be the most glorious morning ever. The sun was streaming through the windows of the apartment he and BOSS shared and last night had been the most incredible night of sex he had ever experienced with BOSS. It seemed all of his body ached from their night of love making, especially his ass. He never felt more loved or cared for then when wrapped in BOSS's arms with BOSS'S cock deeply planted in his ass. Moving silently so as not to disturb BOSS, Vito quickly descended to the main level of the apartment and set out the protein powders and fruits to mix their favorite morning wake-up. He worked quickly and poured the thick mixture into two large glasses before heading back upstairs to shower and dress for the day. He set one glass on the table beside the still sleeping BOSS while Vito moved to the shower.

Emerging from the hot shower Vito had to use a towel to wipe a spot clear of steam in order to study his body while drying. He knew he had to schedule his heavy workout for later in the day now that he was in charge of all office operations and membership development. Mornings were always busy in the gym and Vito wanted to be first on the floor to insure the trainers and other personnel arrived on time.

Studying his reflection Vito thought he'd best check his weight; he waist looked a bit larger than it's normal 34". Moving up his body his chest was as massive as ever if not a bit larger. He'd get over this 56" plateau he'd been on the past month or so. His pecs formed the shelf every true body builder worked to achieve, accented even more by the 0g rings piercing each nipple. His biceps now measured 22" but he'd get them to 24" in another month or two, just has he'd finally managed the massive trapezoid muscle development which created the no-neck look he personally liked so much.

Continuing his morning ritual of examining each inch of his massive body he made a mental note to again thank BOSS for allowing him to get the extensive tattoo work covering his entire right side from toes to neck. Their good friend Sal had personally designed and inscribed every inch of the heavy black tribal tattooing, making sure it accented and enhanced every contour of his body. The giant swirls that arced under his pecs made them appear even more extreme just as did the snake-like design that moved from his toes, up around his right leg onto his torso, over his shoulder and down his right arm ending at his thumb. Vito had yet to decide which of his two newest additions he prized most, the three tapering spikes that moved from his right shoulder, up his neck onto his right cheek or the two stylized lightening bolts that now accented the space where most men had eyebrows.

No matter how much he liked all the custom tattooing that now adorned virtually all of the right side of his body, nothing would ever come close to the feeling he had for the inked chains that wrapped around each of his wrists. The two tattoos had been his first gift from BOSS.

Vito knew BOSS particularly liked the barbell that pierced the bridge of his nose. Sal's boy Eddy had designed and crafted it as an exact replica of the barbell in the Heavy Iron gym logo and BOSS had been present the night it was inserted into place and the threaded end had been permanently sealed, insuring it would never come out. Two more 0g rings had joined the once lone tunnel and ring in his right ear lobe and his left ear now carried twelve small silver rings lining its outside edge-one ring to mark each month he and BOSS had been coupled.

"Vito, stop this self admiration or you'll never get down to your office" he said to himself.

By size alone Vito intimidated many that met him for the first time; the tattoos and piercings served to make him even more a man to be feared. Only the men who are part of his and BOSS'S most inner circle knew the true story of his total obedience and service to the BOSS.

Moving quickly to dress Vito selected a black spandex tank top with deeply scooped out neck that allowed his pierced pecs to be totally exposed. To the tank top he added a pair of the black leather cod piece shorts BOSS had had custom made for him. The codpiece tightly contained his dick with its PA and 12 Frenum ladder rings; the PA that was locked to a Guiche ring.

After pulling on the double soled knee high logger boots he laced them quickly with the speed of a man who did this at least twice daily.

Pausing to insure his half inch high Mohawk haircut was precisely brushed into shape he wondered again why he was the only man a part of the Heavy Metal staff and management that did not have jet black hair. His hair was as white as newly fallen snow. Someday he'd have to ask BOSS about his white hair.

Closely the apartment door quietly behind him Vito bounded down the steps and across the main gym space to begin his new life.

XXX

Driving a truck he'd borrowed from his assistant, Stan Foster though he was on to the assignment of a lifetime. In three years time a small gym located in one of the worst sections of town had grown to a chain of twenty-two facilities located in major cities throughout the world. True to their first location all the gyms were located in blue-collar neighborhoods and the membership was limited exclusively to men over thirty years old; he knew twenty five had been the original age limit.

Rumors about Heavy Iron Incorporated were rampant within the business community yet virtually nothing of fact was known. Researching building permits, license applications and other public records the most known of the business was it was a series of interlocking corporations which all lead back to two men as owners who apparently had vast resources that funded all their operations.

As Business Editor of the leading daily financial newspaper Stan had developed a fixation with finding out about this company. He'd convinced his Executive Editor and Editorial Board he was the only man on their staff he could properly handle this story even though he'd not been a field reporter in over ten years. Personally he knew there is another reason he'd fought so hard for this assignment; the dissolution of his marriage. He wanted something that would keep him away from home and out of the office for a while. The elaborate cover story he'd developed along with the entire research staff assured him that no one connected to Heavy Iron Inc. could find out he was doing a story of their empire.

Using two of the papers less desirable underground contacts he'd been able to secure an appointment with one of the owners on the premise of wanting to undergo a complete physical change; not that he wasn't in decent shape for a 49 year old man presently. Stan had been a varsity football star in college and he knew the importance of physical workouts and visited the company gym two or three times weekly. His toned body, combined with the blond hair and blue eyes of his Nordic ancestors gave Stan the appearance of an aging boy-next-door.

Entering a security code that had been given him when his contact confirmed Stan's appointment he entered the underground parking facility of a building which appeared as being more ready for demolition then the corporate headquarters of what was obviously a thriving business. Two security guards greeted Stan at the elevators leading up out of the garage and after confirming both his identity and appointment keyed open an elevator and entered another code before the doors closed sealing him in a now rising chamber of polished steel and black granite. Black must be a popular color around here thought Stan thinking back to how the security guards were wearing black leather pants and waist length jackets and knee-high boots. Since both men also appeared to be totally hairless, including their lack of eyebrows the only discernable difference was one wore a black tee shirt under his jacket while the other wore gray. Did they both have a black barbell with one end being an "H" and the other a "D" tattooed on the back of their right hand?

As silently as the elevator had begun to rise it came to a stop and the doors opened. Waiting to greet him were two men standing side-by-side whose physical development could only be described as breath taking. Aside from one of the two being about three inches taller the men could have been fraternal twins. One was tattooed on his entire right side, including his hand and lower face while the other was covered with elaborate tribal designs across his shoulders and arms and down his left leg.

The shorter one must truly like body piercings as the edge of his left ear was lined with so many small silver rings as to almost appear as a solid silver rim around the ear – there had to be at least 36 or more of the small rings. His right ear had three of the biggest loops he had ever seen on a man. Silver rings also projected from both his nipples and it looked like a barbell pierced the bridge of his nose. Both men wore only black leather shorts (did the shorter ones shorts have a codpiece?) and knee light boots. Both men also wore short cropped, perfectly maintained Mohawk haircuts but this was the most noticeable difference too. The hair of the taller one was jet black while the shorter ones hair was snow white.

"I'm BOSS and this is Vito, together we own and control Heavy Iron Inc. We've been expecting you." While shaking hands with Stan BOSS placed his left hand upon his right shoulder. Looking aside to Vito and smiling BOSS continued "Now Tank, let's go talk about this desire of yours for a New Life".

========================================================================

This has been my first ever attempt at fiction. I wanted to try using men over thirty years of age as the prime characters. I hope you haven't found it too off putting. ShavdLthr

XXX

BOSS understood even before first meeting Stan Foster there would be the potential for danger in assimilating him into the Heavy Iron world, if indeed he held the potential for becoming a 'family' member. As a working member of the press Stan would be constantly alert to any potential deviations from normal training; additionally too many people to whom Stan reported were aware of his present assignment to discover the real story on Heavy Iron's now world wide success as well as the personal history of BOSS and Vito.

After his initial meeting with BOSS and Vito, Stan was assigned to a lower level personal trainer who worked with him five days a week. Unable to break his cover for this assignment Stan was left with a great deal of free time in which to attempt unmasking information on the men associated with Heavy Iron as well as its owners. Stan's frustration grew as he came upon one dead end after another; either no one knew anything of real importance about either BOSS or Vito or they were too afraid (conditioned?) to admit their knowledge.

Stan's reports to the editorial board of his newspaper were met with increasing skepticism on there being any real value to his continuing the project. Their urging that Stan admit failure on the Heavy Iron exposure and return to his 'real world' only frustrated him more.

Filling time one day Stan finally wondered into the barber shop he had past many times before. Once he had chatted with Old Vito the barber Stan's future was sealed; he was about to enter a new world and a totally new life from which he would never return ... .or be found.

XXX

Old Vito was like a Father to BOSS. Even though the barber shop he ran was actually owned by BOSS'S company and he was an employee of BOSS there was still a link between the two men unlike any that of anyone else within the Heavy Iron hierarchy. Only one man was closer to BOSS than was Old Vito - the 'new' Vito, BOSS'S partner/slave. It was because of his admiration of Old Vito that BOSS had renamed Victor Stephenson as Vito Sepulla upon completion of Vito's transformation.

Old Vito not only wanted Stan as his boy, he knew exactly how he wanted him: pumped to the extreme, penniless and dumb. Tank, as both BOSS and Old Vito agreed he would be christened upon his rebirth, was to have the physique of a world class body builder and the mind of a poorly educated sixteen year old. Tank would come to need Old Vito not only for emotional support and training but for every ounce of nutrition that entered his body and every piece of clothing that might cover his frame.

It took only one suggestion from BOSS for Stan to move into the lover lever 'apartment' once occupied by Vito. Stan thought he had just been given to keys to the city towards his planned expose' of BOSS, Vito and Heavy Iron Inc. Little did he understand the future life to which he had just committed himself.

Stan's now planned conversion held another benefit for BOSS. He would now see just how well his training of Vito had taken as Vito was now assigned as Stan's new personal trainer.

Stan was caught totally off guard when BOSS told him to move only his personal grooming items into the new apartment. As a "special" member of Heavy Iron all of his wardrobe and training apparel would be provided.

The starkness of the apartment was a shock to Stan, as was BOSS'S demand that he surrender his cell phone. Without his cell phone his only link to his employer's would be severed; with no television or radio on his new apartment he would not even have access to current news - the life blood of a long time reporter such as he.

The few items of clothing he found neatly folded on two shelves in the apartment could not possibly be meant for him to wear. Not only were they all in red or white or stripes of the two colors they were obviously two small for his frame - no clothing could that small could stretch enough to fit over his football player form. The one pair of boots sitting beneath the folded clothing were a bright red which reminded him of the color seen on fire trucks or old time barber poles. They also were way too tall, they would end just below his knees --- they had white lacings.

Stan was well aware that all members of Heavy Iron Gym wore only clothing of white, gray or black. Additionally all had shaved heads or jet black hair, except for Vito with his stark white hair. BOSS and Vito were the only two men daring enough to wear Mohawk haircuts, just as they were the only two members so heavily tattooed; especially Vito with his facial tattooing.

As objective as he tried to remain towards both BOSS and Vito he found himself drawn to them in ways he couldn't explain. The quiet forcefulness of BOSS appealed to him as did the way BOSS commanded all around him with complete ease. Vito was such an incredibly nice man it was impossible not to find him appealing. Although never discussed it was also obvious that a love existed between BOSS and Vito that was so strong Vito appeared to be a slave to BOSS. More than once he felt his should mention to Vito the need of being careful of his quiet actions around BOSS; no man as big and fierce appearing as was Vito could be any man's slave. Even more so, what real man would ever considering being property of another man?

Regardless of all the mixed emotions running though his mind, he was excited when BOSS suggested Stan join BOSS and Vito for dinner that evening. As excited as he had been over the invitation he was surprised to find it was the next morning and he had virtually no memory of anything discussed or the food that was consumed. The only thing he half remember was he and Vito moving to a quiet corner after the meal and Vito staring directly into his eyes suggesting they discuss his new life.

Now it was the next morning and his new life was about to begin.

XXX

Awakening far earlier than was normal for him Stan immediately was alert; it took him a few seconds to remember he was now sleeping in the unit which was a part of BOSS and Vito's apartment.

Quickly he did the basic morning hygiene routine and for the first time pulled on the red and white striped sleeveless tee shirt and the very short, and very tight, red shorts. Amazingly to have been as small as they appeared they stretched to fit his body, even if the fit was so tight he could see outlines of his chest and pubic hair showing beneath the fabric surface. Quickly pulling on the tall white socks followed by the red boots he laced the boots tightly and felt ready to start the day.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the wall mounted mirror he couldn't help but laugh; his reflection reminded him of an old fashioned barber pole.

At some point while he had been dressing the door to the outer apartment had opened - Vito was waiting. Something about Vito was different, he wasn't showing the same friendly, easy going expression normal to him. Vito looked hard, determined and in absolute control - it was like seeing a version of BOSS.

Two hours later Stan struggled to life one foot high enough to reach the next riser on the steps leading to the apartment; the same steps Vito had just bounded up after completion of Stan's first workout session with Vito as his trainer. Stan had thought he was tired when ending a session with his former trainer but that had been nothing compared to the absolute exhaustion and weakness that now permeated his body. When, and if, he reached his own unit he wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep.

Reaching the apartment door Stan saw Vito glaring at him and a slight smile for the first time all morning. "Drink this first then shower, finish your grooming and meet me in the kitchen in twenty minutes" Vito stated coldly handing Stan a large glass filled with an unknown thick creamy concoction. "Next we start your 'brain training' for the day.

As rejuvenated as Stan felt after downing the beverage he could not get his body to move fast enough to complete all required in a mere twenty minutes. Just over thirty minutes had elapsed before Stan joined Vito in the kitchen area wearing another of the barber pole suits as he was coming to think of his new apparel.

"Heavy Iron rules and schedules are not to be violated in any way, especially not by someone at such a low level as are you" coldly stated Vito. "You will learn quickly such violation warrants remedial correction. Now, let's eat, breakfast is ready."

Setting down to eat Stan found before him an immense egg white omelet, more steamed vegetables that any six men could possibly eat and two large glasses of another mystery beverage. Within ten minutes all of this food was in Stan's body and he was amazed how content and good he now felt. Vito started the mental training process of the morning but has much as Stan wanted to be especially attentive as he felt this might be the hidden portion of Heavy Irons success, he quickly fell asleep.

Awakening some hours later back in his unit Stan found a message from Vito. He was to immediately begin cardio listed before him, not for one hour as originally planned but for two hours. The second hour was to remind him of the importance of being on time and following all rules of BOSS, Vito, any other man superior to him. He was to do this second hour not just for one day but for the next month.

Only one week later Stan was amazed that he was seeing changes in his body structure and he was taking to steps to the apartment two-at-a-time. BOSS and Vito had been right, once again. Stan still hated the second hour of his cardio session but he had to follow orders, those were the Heavy Iron rules.

Entering the apartment after finishing his afternoon cardio session on his eighth day of training under Vito Stan was surprised to find BOSS waiting for him.

BOSS told Stan is was now time he start paying for all the special training and attention he was receiving and per his Contract Stan would start working on the night maintenance from four in each afternoon until midnight-seven days a week. Stan was tired, now he was furious. When he started protesting this new role BOSS produced a copy of the Contract to which he had referred and asked Stan to verify his signature agreeing to the terms. Stan had to admit the signature was indeed his even though he didn't recall ever signing such a document. BOSS explained all the details had been covered after dinner the first night with he and Vito and Stan had been so anxious to sign he had given the document only a cursory glance before doing so.

Stan still couldn't understand how he had given this man not only total control over his body and training but his entire life; but there seemed no used in arguing the point. Until BOSS, and only BOSS, as the document read decided to make the Contract null and void, Stan was "owned" by Heavy Iron Inc. the same as was every other piece of equipment in the gym.

Handing Stan a pair of black coveralls and heavy black boots BOSS stated coldly "Get dressed, you've ten minutes to report to your new position in life."

XXX

Initially Stan was embarrassed to be seen in the black form-fitting coveralls with "STAFF" emblazoned in white across his back and down the right sleeve; he was a high ranking executive of an international corporation, not a janitor. He was also surprised at the long list of rules to be followed while working in his new "staff" position. The long sleeves were to be tightly buttoned at the wrist at all times; only the upper most neck button could be left unbuttoned; the legs of the coveralls were to be bloused Marine style over the black tactical boots that had to be worn; and black latex gloves were to encase his hands at all times.

The coveralls of other men working maintenance each had their name in white over their right breast pocket: Stan's uniform was blank. As Stan was unknown by most of the staff and all the clients he was hailed in a variety of ways by others: "guy", "hey you", but most embarrassingly, "boy". Following another rule he always addressed everyone from BOSS and Vito, all clients, even other employees (as he was coming to think of himself more and more) as "Sir": "Yes Sir", "No Sir" and "Thank You Sir".

Stan was surprised how much comfort and security he began to feel during his hours working maintenance, the black coveralls were becoming a security blanket to him. Of course he frequently had to be given ever larger coveralls to wear as his body was changing shape and developing in ways he would have thought impossible in his old life.

Awakening from his rest after finishing his afternoon brain training session with Vito in his second month (or was it his fourth or sixth month, he couldn't remember) Vito handed him yet another pair of larger black coveralls to begin wearing. He noticed these coveralls had his name on the right front; looking more closely he realized they didn't say Stan, but instead "Tank". At the same time BOSS appeared and explained to Stan the coverall's had previously been worn by an employee who was indeed built like a tank and BOSS had decided with all the changes happening with Stan's body he should now wear them.

For some reason Stan was elated with this news, not only the fact his body had changed and grown so that he now fit into these huge coveralls but he now had a name, he was no longer just "boy", he was now "Tank".

BOSS went on to explain that Tank was being reassigned from the gym staff and would now be working at the barber shop under the direct control of Old Vito. Tank was to consider all orders of Old Vito as being the same as coming from BOSS and would follow them to the letter, without question.

Additionally since he was now assigned to Old Vito and the barber shop staff Tank would spend all his nights and time not in training with Vito, at the barbershop. Tank was to collect all articles of his from his former unit in BOSS and Vito's apartment and take them to the barber shop at once. "Yes Sir, BOSS Sir" responded the now "Tank".

Tank remembered being in the barbershop once several months before but had never been back and certainly never for a haircut. From the haircuts he had seen on men who had their hair cut there he knew it to be a shop that catered to those whose tastes in haircuts, and hair colors, was far more extreme than was his. His dark blond hair had been trimmed in the same moderate side part since grad school and he wasn't about the change now.

Entering the barber shop carrying a box containing his few grooming items and the red &white workout apparel along with his one pair of red boots Tank found the shop empty; and immaculately clean and maintained. "What will I do here?" wondered Tank.

A door in the real wall opened and out stepped one of the most impressive men Tank had ever seen. He had to be as tall as BOSS with what appeared to be a hugely developed chest and body under the black leather barber-style smock he wore over black leather pants and heavy black boots laced tightly outside the pants. The man could be on his 40's, or his 60's or 70's but Tank didn't care, the man was awe inspiring to Tank.

"My name is Vito, more commonly now known as Old Vito" boomed the man walking towards Tank. "I'm now your boss and you're my new boy". "I see there's a lot of work to be done to make you look like my boy and a part of this business".

Placing the box containing his few possessions neatly in a corner of the room Tank stood at attention and answered the man, "Yes Sir, where do you want to begin Sir?"

XXX

Since taking possession of Stan's cell phone BOSS had been monitoring both his voice mail and incoming text messages. He knew Stan's superiors at the paper were past the point of granting Stan more research time on Heavy Iron, Inc. BOSS also knew that Stan had missed two property settlement hearings in the ongoing proceedings with his former wife with a third scheduled for the coming Monday. When BOSS read the latest text message from Stan's immediate superior demanding Stan to appear in his office the at the same time Monday he knew there was no option but for Stan to resurface - for one last time. Additionally for the break with his old life to be totally effective Stan had to be seen before Old Vito began more extreme modifications to his boy.


Unable to fit into any of his old clothing Stan appeared the following Monday morning wearing jeans molded to his body like paint, a bright red spandex turtleneck sweater and his maintenance issue tactical boots. His dress, along with the significant changes in his physique and the fact his entire face and body were void of any and all hair combined to make getting past main lobby security difficult. The two leather clad, Mohawk haircut wearing friends flanking him did not help. Finally Stan was cleared for access to the executive level but his friends were only cleared to executive reception.

Stan's meeting with the Editor and Publisher lasted less than five minutes. When Stan insisted that under no condition would or could he leave the Heavy Iron world at this time he was immediately fired with no hope of positive references in the future.

Without being permitted even a stop at his old office Stan was escorted back to executive reception for company security who then insisted his two friends join them for the trip to the main lobby and out of the building.

Emerging from the elevators into the main building lobby Stan was quickly surrounded by a swarm of attorney's and court representatives; it was if all these various representatives had known of Stan's appearance at his former employers and had been lying in wait. Within minutes Stan was served with court papers indicating that due to his non appearance as previous settlement meetings all previously held joint investments etc. had been awarded to his ex-wife. The Quick Claim deed on his condo that he'd provided his attorney as collateral for representing Stan during the extended and costly divorce and settlement hearings had been exercised for non payment of his legal fees. After falling six months in arrears his leased automobile had been repossessed and he was being sued for both past due payments and the lease balance.

Stan Foster now had no job, no home, no money in the bank and was being sued for more money than he probably would ever again see in his lifetime.

Stripping off the red turtleneck a two inch wide tattooed collar was revealed at the base of Stan's neck. Anyone looking closely would see the pattern was comprised of individual razor blades on ean, one next to another and each blade had an "OV" engraved within its center.

With a broad smile of contentment spread across his face, Stan stood naked to the waist between the men with the black and the white Mohawks on either side of him and asked "Will you two Sirs please give Tank a ride back to his home with your friend Old Vito?"

XXX
Wearing a look of apprehension Old Vito was standing just inside the barbershop door as first BOSS entered followed by Vito and finally Tank. Any concern was quickly replaced by a sinister smile of great pleasure which spread across Old Vito's face after a quick, quiet exchange with BOSS.

Looking at Tank who now stood to his right and one pace to the rear Old Vito stated "boy, your life and work have just begun in earnest."

Within hours a large silver ring was suspended from the septum of Tanks nose and over ensuing months grew in both gauge and diameter size until settling at 000 gauge and two inches in diameter.

The true meaning of being a haircut slave became apparent to Tank as he learned the more remains of cut hair he collected the softer would be his sleeping pallet in the corner of Old Vito's bedroom.

The black coveralls he had worn at the gym were replaced with barber pole red ones with a few differences: the red coveralls were sleeveless and had no buttons or closures above the waist so his ever expanding chest and arms were on view to all who saw him. These coveralls also had built in knee pads as Tank soon came to know how the black and white tiled floor was always spotless; he cleaned it daily from a kneeling position with warm water, sterile soap and hand brushes followed by an application of warmed wax and buffing with natural chamois. Any portion of the floor that didn't provide a perfect reflection of Old Vito's handsome face was deemed unacceptable. Only after Old Vito had deposited the contents of Tanks pallet on the offending spot was Tank allowed to first collect all the hair clippings (which had to be deposited in the trash, not put back into his bedding) and begin the washing and waxing procedures anew.

Especially in the beginning it was not unusual for Tank to spend the eighteen hours he did not train with Vito attempting to get the barber shop floors shining to the point he would be rewarded by a simple "good boy" from Old Vito. Never had Tank known such happiness as when hearing Old Vito say those magic words.

In time Tank learned there were other rewards to doing his jobs correctly the first time; he was allowed to visit Old Vito's good buddy Sal the tattooist and his boy Eddy the piercer.

The bull ring suspended from Tanks nose was joined in time by five silver rings piercing his lower lip and three conical shaped 'bullets' projecting from his chin. Twelve silver rings were above each of his eyes in his now red eyebrows. Even though he longed to have rings in his ears as did Vito none ever were allowed by Old Vito, nor were rings ever to pierce his tits.

Tank came to crave man-to-man sex especially the honor of being allowed to swallow either the jism of Old Vito (would it make Tank look even more like the man he worshipped?) or his Master's piss with its acrid smell by wonderfully bitter taste.

Old Vito was a demanding taskmaster, both in the way he treated Tank and in the modifications made to Tank's body. Tank soon learned he was only to speak when told to do so by Old Vito and he has even less need to think. He was happiest when following the orders of Old Vito without question.
One spring evening employees of "The Wall Street Reporter" were treated to an interesting sight as they exited the building from a days work. Standing on the street directly in front of the main exit was a man dressed only in bright red leather shorts with knee high boots of the same leather and color.

Centered on his chest and back were placards with the legend "Start You New Life at Heavy Iron. Complete Your New Life at Heavy Metal Hair for Men".

Closer inspection revealed these weren't signs but tattoos applied directly to his body in the manner of old style sandwich board advertising. It appeared that all other parts of his body not imprinted with the advertising messages were covered with alternating stripe of red and white tattooing in the manner of traditional barber poles. Even his fingers were covered in the same pattern. When the stripes reached his chin they dissipated except for ones on either side that swept back up and over his ears which seemed to have been enlarged and elongated into 'wings' in the style of the mythical God Mercury. The only interruption to all these red and white swirls was a bright yellow stripe that encircled the mans waist just above the top of his shorts. Printed in bold black over the yellow was "Restricted - Heavy Iron Property".

The only hair visible on this creature aside from bright red eyebrows was a top knot of the same color which had been braided and extended past the mans waist. Bisecting the lowest end of the braid was a barbell which had been designed to look like to safety razors end-to-end.

Of those who gave the creature more than a quick glance (and their were several, especially men), several had a strange impression of having seen him before. Yet the wondered how anyone looking as did he and dressed as he was could have such a look of absolute comfort and happiness.

Standing in the shadows off to one side were a trio of men each in various forms of black leather clothing. Two of the men wore Mohawk haircuts, one black, one stark white. The older of the three men looked as if he could be the Father of the other two, especially the one with the black Mohawk. The older man especially seemed to be searching the exiting crowd for something or someone. Maybe there was yet another member of the family about to join them.

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