Sleepy Swallows

I wish I could have watched the sun set on the horizon. It's always prettier the higher up you get. I could have been luckier if I left straight from work like my buddies, but I wanted to take some time to decompress at home. The office really takes a drag on me. Even though I was only 22, I felt like I lost all the energy I had back in college; to be able to party whenever and wherever. Now the sun was to my back as I drove up the mountain, and I could only catch glimpses of it whenever the road wound up. I had already been driving for twenty minutes to get to where I was, and had probably another twenty before I made it there.

It made me wonder, though, why my friends all loved going to this place? There were other bars we were practically regulars at by now, and they never seemed to have a reason to abandon them. But as the past two weeks went by, I saw that more and more of them stopped going, until last night it was just me. It's hard to beat the fact that those places were only a walking distance away from me, but fear of missing out got the better of me. Fuck it, if they're all willing to make that drive every single night, I'm sure its worth it.

I didn't realize how stuck in my head I had become - I had just passed up a sign for the bar saying it was coming up on the right in less than a mile. The sign was kind of odd, though. To begin with, the place is called "Sleepy Swallows", which is such a weird name for a bar in general. It sounded almost depressing, as if it weird made specifically for alcoholics or something. Past that, the actual imagery of the sign was just as confusing. It had a hand tracing a rocks glass with a bit of whiskey in it, and next to it was a man with spirals in his eyes, drooling with his head on a bar counter. I mean really, its as if the place was blatantly saying "we will roofie you here".

I'm sure it can't be too harmful if my friends are going. I shut those thoughts off as I rolled up on the place. I parked my motor bike and took the place in as I took off my helmet. There was similar spiral imagery around the sign that held the title. Sleepy Swallows. A shiver sent down my spine. Something was off about this place, before I have even stepped a foot in. I took a deep breath. Aside from the sign, it seemed like a totally normal little local mountain bar. My friends are here, I will be fine. I took one last look at the horizon to see the sun's rays disappearing behind it. It's time to head in.

Well, as I should have expected, the layout of the place was weird too. There were some tables strewn about.. but the majority of the space was taken up by these stalls that lined the wall. There must have been about ten of them, each with salloon-style doors that went all the way to the floor, and going about as high as maybe even five feet. Inside each stall was a simple booth seating setup, but the table space in each one was a small counter attached to the wall, it didnt match the length of the booth seating. The space between the seating was also seemingly larger than you would see for a table to be there - again, what the fuck is this place?

About half the stalls were occupied, with their doors closed. I saw one stall nearby with its doors still open, with my friend Brandon inside. I smiled a bit, finally seeing a friendly face, and made my way over to him. There was a man sitting across from him speaking quietly that I didn't recognize. I was a few feet away when I announced myself, "Hey Brandon!" It wasn't until then that I really noticed that his head was sagging down, and his eyes were barely open. Had he been drinking that much already? He began to stir when he heard my voice. The man across from him straightened up a bit and looked at me with a slightly annoyed face. "Sorry, we're busy."

I stopped before I got close to the stall. I chuckled a but nervously. "Oh, my bad. I just wanted to say a quick hello before I grabbed a drink." The stranger smiled back now and put up a half-assed wave. "Well, hello. I see you're new here - I would suggest you go talk to Matt over there at the bar." My gaze followed where his finger pointed: a burly man sat alone at the bar, reading a newspaper. He looked nearly twice my size, but only a few years older than me. "He'll break you in on the place," the man said, giving me a wink.

I nodded and smiled again awkwardly. I caught one last glimpse of Brandon before the man shut the saloon doors on the booth. He had stopped stirring as much as earlier. As I turned to walk towards the bar, I noticed something odd about that conversation. The entire time, that man was gently caressing the brim of a rocks glass, not once stopping. It was that sort of technique you can use to make glassware sound like an instrument; wetting your finger and circling the brim. It was a soft sort of humming sound. And now that I noticed it, there was a lot of it in the bar. It sounded like it was coming from every stall that was shuttered. I guess the patrons here really like playing with their glasses? It seemed so silly to me.

I made my way over to the bar, sitting a seat away from the man that other guy called Matt. I waved over the bartender and asked him for an old fashioned. The man perked up at my order, turning his head toward me with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "I wouldnt have expected someone of your age to order something like that. I would have figured you'd go for something sweeter," he said in a gruff, but kind voice. I returned the grin and responded, "I like my drinks with more bitterness to them. I feel like if you're trying to head the alcohol too much, you might as well just not drink."

He gave a short laugh and set down his newspaper, shifting his whole body to face me. "Well I think everyone has their reason to drink, they just can't all take the taste. Why do you drink?" He said, holding up his own drink and taking a sip. I turned myself to face him fully, too. I shrugged, "I drink because it's fun, I guess. Hard to have a bad time when there is a drink in my hand, and with friends around. Although," I gestured towards the stalls, "my friends wanted me to come here with them, and yet they are all not around."

Matt chuckled once more and took another sip. "Friends don't always follow through, do they? But I'm sure they have their reasons. The stalls are pretty comfy here, after all." I gave him an inquisitive look. What the fuck does that mean? He shook his head at me and got off his stool. The bartender was fixing to place my drink down when Matt motioned to give to him. "His tab is on me." The bartender nodded. He motioned his head toward an empty stall that was further away from the others, more secluded. "Come on, I'll show you." I shook my head and shrugged again. What's the harm? I got up and followed him over to the stall.

He wasn't lying, at least. the seats were pretty damn comfy, even the backs. It was weird to be sitting across from some stranger in a more intimate setting like this, but he said nice enough. Seemed like he really just wanted to sit and talk with me. He handed me my drink and clinked our glasses for a cheers. We set our drinks down on the small counter in the stall, but he kept his hand on his drink. I didn't notice, but he had slyly dipped his finger into his drink. "So, first time being here. What do you think of the place?" Matt began circling the brim of his glass with his finger, making a soft humming noise like I had heard earlier. Guess I should have expected that, since everyone else was doing it.

"Well, I don't think I've been to another place like it, that's for damn sure. I mean, the whole setup with the stalls and stuff is pretty strange, yknow?" Matt winked at me as he continued caressing the glass. "I know exactly what you mean. I was bewildered when I first came here. The name, the stalls, all the customers rubbing their glasses." I chuckled in surprise that he mentioned it. "Yeah, so what's up with that?" I said, pointed at his glass, "do yall just really enjoy the sound or something?"

Matt didn't laugh but kept a smile on his face. His eyes didn't gaze down to look at his drink, he was locked on me. His eyes had such a WILL in them, I'm not sure what it was. But looking into them, it made me want to be quiet, as if he had something better to say... and that I should listen. Such a strong will in his eyes. So hard to resist. I couldn't look away. "Well it's a nice sound, isn't it? This soft humming. And once you get good at doing this, you can really keep it in a rhythm. I'm pretty consistent in keeping it smooth. Can you tell? Can you hear how it doesn't speed up or slow down, its the same pace. Just humming and humming."

I silently nodded, looking him straight in the eye. Suddenly I realized how slack I had become - my nervous energy had left me all of a sudden. Listening to the humming of the glass, and listening to Matt talk.. I was really calmed. And the seat was so comfortable. I felt like I was sitting at my favorite bar back in the city. I felt right at home. Even better. I liked this place more than my bar, or even my home. This was exactly where I belonged. I felt good. I felt happy. I felt relaxed. So many things I felt. Matt had kept talking while I was thinking about these things. Or rather, he told me to keep thinking about these things. Told me how I should feel about this bar, this stall. How I should feel about him.

It felt so good to be at Sleepy Swallows, talking with my new friend Matt. It was so nice of him to show me what this place was about. It was nice of him to break me in, just like that other guy said. The energy in this stall felt so peaceful, so personal. The humming of the glass was beautiful. It was like it was putting a warm blanket on. My whole body felt comfortable, and my mind was even more comfy. It felt comfortable to sit in this stall with my friend Matt. It felt good, it felt right. I liked it. I liked listening to the glass hum my thoughts away. I liked hearing what Matt had to say.

In fact, I loved hearing what he had to say. I could just sit and listen to his voice for hours. I could listen and obey his words for as long as he wanted. Whenever I hear the glass hum, I listen to what Matt has to say. When I hear the glass hum, I obey what Matt says. Nothing else mattered in that moment. I was here with Matt, and I was comfortable. I was comfortable being alone with him in this stall. I was comfortable with him grabbing my thigh, like he was doing now. It felt good when he touched me.

I like when Matt touches me. It makes me happy for him to touch me. I want him to touch me more. And yes, I love staring into his eyes. Hearing the glass hum helped me to calm down, but seeing his eyes.. that's what really held me. I felt so good looking into his eyes. They were so, sooo deep. Deeper than I could imagine. I just can't even think when I am looking into them. When I am obeying them. And that's what good boys do. They obey. They obey and let Matt grab their thighs and pull them closer. Good boys like me. Im a good boy. A good boy like me lets Matt touch them however he wants. They let him stroke them through their pants.

God it felt so good to have Matt touch me like this. I really needed this after a long day of work. No more stress to be had here. I could just sit here with my friend Matt, and obey like a good boy. I could just sit here and let Matt stroke me. Because I should. Because it is right. Because I love it. I love staring into his eyes and obeying him. I love it. I love him. It's only right that I lean in to kiss him. Our lips touching sent electricity through my whole body. I had never felt so alive to kiss someone. His tongue explored my mouth, and my dick started to ache with how happy I was.

The seat was uncomfortable, so I slid off of it gently and kneeled in front of him. Now that I was closer to him and below him, I could really feel the power of his eyes above me. In this moment, in this stall, I was his slave. I was Matt's slave. And Matt made me feel so good. So at peace, so happy. I owed him for that. And I should pay him back. Pay him back for his kindness. Pay him back for taking control over my body and mind.

I lost myself in his eyes once more while he talked, not even realizing that my hands had already unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. His cock stood before me, 7 inches and throbbing. I had never seen another man's cock in person. But Matt made me realize that it didnt bother me that I was seeing one now. I loved it, actually. It was beautiful. It made me happy to see it, and to be so close to it. Matt sat for a moment, slapping his cock on my forehead, while I stared deep into his eyes. He said liked to revel over how much control he had over me. I smiled for him while he quickly pulled out his phone and took a picture of his cock on my face. I was so happy that he could have something to remember me by.

Matt said I should lick it, and so I did. I licked from the base, up the shaft to the head just liked he asked me to. Matt started to moan a bit and I felt his free hand go onto the back of my head. I continued licking, starting to linger at the bottom of his head because it made him happy. And it was making me so happy too, my pants were starting to get wet.

Yes, I should take him in my mouth. I tentatively put just his head in, but Matt's words got to me. I didn't have any fear for it to go in further. I didn't care how far back it went. What matters is that Matt is satisfied. So I started to suck harder on his cock while I slowly bobbed my head up and down. He seemed to really enjoy it, and he started to press on the back of my head when I went down. It felt good. it felt right. I love sucking Matt's cock. I am so happy Matt broke me in. I love Matt.

I don't care about gagging. I don't care about getting hurt. I don't care about breathing. Matt's pleasure is all that matters. His grip became more stiff, and he was forcing my head down harder. I accepted his control, and let him fuck my throat. Everything in my body screamed now, wanting release, wanting to choke, cough, even breathe. But I couldnt until Matt was finished. the back of my throat hurt, and kept hurting more every time his cock pounded it.

Soon enough, it stayed at the back of my throat as Matt held my head in place, and white hot cum poured into me. Swallow. Swallow. I must swallow Matt's cum like a good boy. Before I get to breathe, before I get to recover, I must swallow. And it felt good to swallow. I loved swallowing Matt's cum. I love Matt. He released me and I fell down onto the floor, coughing.

The humming from the glass had stopped, and I wasn't looking in his eyes. What.. had happened? I began looking at my surroundings, confused. I looked up when Matt suddenly grabbed my chin and I peered right into his gaze.

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I gotta say, I had a great night at Sleepy Swallows. I don't remember that much from it, but I'm definitely going back there every night. It's a shame I didn't get to see and talk with my friends much, but I get it now. Sometimes you just want to be alone with someone. I really liked being alone with Matt. And I plan on talking my other friends about Sleepy Swallows. I need to bring more friends so that they can experience it. So they can go there every night just like me. So they can meet someone just like I met Matt. So they can relax with someone just like I relaxed with Matt. So they can obey someone just like I obey Matt... So they can love someone just like I love Matt... So they can be sleepy and can swallow... just like I do for Matt...