Missionary Service
Elder Sam Anderson stood outside a metal door in the alley. “This is the place?” he asked to himself. The other Elders was sent to help old ladies by mowing their lawns. He was sent here to this address, apparently a place called “The Hole”.
He was 21 years old and was almost done with his missionary work. He grew up in the church and knew it was his duty to spread the word of God, but he was unsure about this.
He looked around, confused. He was unsure if he should go in. It was sketchy and no one was around. He had a bad feeling, but he knew Jesus wouldn’t judge. He pulled to door handle, but it didn’t budge. He was about to turn around, but the door swung open.
A tall, muscular man stood there. Sam didn’t know what this man was wearing or why. The man had a dark black leather jacket with a matching leather shirt underneath. He had a sense of formality as he had a leather tie, but the man also carried a sense of power as he had thick black leather boots.
The man had short buzzed hair, but had a thick dark mustache that had a lit cigar right under it. This man was both scary and alluring to Elder Anderson, a feeling he couldn’t quite understand.
“Can I help you?” the man asked in a deep voice.
“Umm…Hello. My name is Elder Anderson. I’m here to help and hopefully talk about our Lord and Savior.”
The man looked at Sam up and down. “Please, come in,” the mysterious man invited him as he held the door open.
Sam stepped in and found himself in a bar. He didn’t know why he was sent to the bar.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Sam mentioned.
“Didn’t give it, but you can call me Boss,” the man said.
“…Okay,” Sam hesitantly replied while trying to smile, “I brought a copy of The Book of Mormon that you can have. What would you like me to help you with first?”
“Just set your book down and take a seat right here. Gotta watch a training video, even if you’re just volunteering,” Boss said as he grabbed the book from Sam’s hands and set it on the bar top. He placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders and guided him to a chair that was in front of a tv.
Sam felt uncomfortable being touched. The smoke from the man’s cigar made his eyes water.
Boss pushed him down in the chair, “Watch the screen,” he ordered.
The screen was nothing but static. There was a loud hum coming from the set. Sam watched and began to ask, “Are you going to play the vide—”.
The hum became soothing and Sam could not hear anything else. A quick shot of fear filled his body, but it soon disappeared. There was nothing else around him. It was just him, the hum and the static.
Images of men in leather, men smoking cigars and men nude appeared on the snow like screen. Words like “obey” and “serve” also appeared. He saw men kissing. He saw men fucking. He saw it all and thought of nothing at all.
The words “cigar boy” appeared and then the screen went black. The blank eyes of Sam saw a man placing a cigar in the mouth of another man on the screen, who then started puffing away without a thought in the world. But this wasn’t video. It was a reflection.
The static and hum returned. Sam didn’t feel anything but pure pleasure throughout his body. He didn’t think of anything else except an urge to serve and obey. An urge to make other men feel pleasure, like the pleasure he was feeling right now.
The hum started getting louder, almost like an aggressive buzz. The buzz came with a sensation of coolnesss. The screen went black again and it revealed a man smoking a cigar while getting his hair buzzed. Again, without Sam realizing or caring, this was a reflection. The sight made Sam moan uncontrollably, causing smoke to shoot out of his mouth.
“Good boy,” Boss said in a caring yet controlled way. Sam kept moaning in response, almost like he was agreeing.
The static and hum came back on. The words “You are”appeared with “Boss’ boy”, “a cigar boy”, “a good boy” and “the hole” flashing across the screen in turn, rapidly and repeatedly. The hum got louder and the screen brighter. Sam was blankly watching and moaning. His whole mind was being wiped and rebooted, trapped between pain and pleasure.
His eyes were widening until the tv suddenly turned off. Sam went limp. His moaning stopped, his eyes shut and his cigar fell out of his mouth, burning a hole in his shirt before hitting the floor.
—
“Boy,” Boss said, “wake up.”
Boy opened his tired eyes, “Boss, what happened, Boss?”
“You took a break and fell asleep,” Boss said, “And apparently had a wet dream.” Boss pointed down at boy’s pants. They were indeed wet.
“Boss, sorry, Boss,” boy apologized.
“It’s alright boy,” Boss assured him. He felt safe around Boss. He always tried to make Boss proud, but also knew he would be disciplined if he stepped out of line. “Get changed. Your gear is in the bathroom.”
“Boss, yes, Boss,” boy obeyed as he headed to the bathroom. Boy knew he must always start and end each sentence with “Boss”.
Boy went into the dimly lit bathroom. It smelled of smoke, sweat and sex. He loved that smell and all the actions that caused the odor. His gear was lying on the counter. He didn’t remember why he had a dress shirt, tie and slacks on, but didn’t want to think any more of it. He knew his Boss wouldn’t want him to think any more of it.
He first slipped in tight leather pants. He then unbuttoned his shirt and saw the thick chain with a lock around his neck. He knew he could never take this off because Boss had the only key. He put on his leather vest and then his boots. He was ready for the night. He was ready for Boss.
After getting changed, he bundled up his old clothes and was about to throw them away when he saw something in the garbage bin. He reached in and saw it was a name tag. It said “Elder Anderson.”
“Who the fuck is Elder Anderson?” boy asked aloud before throwing it and his clothes in the trash.
Boy came out of the bathroom. “Looking good, boy,” Boss complimented with a lit cigar in his mouth. He had an unlit cigar in his hand and handed it to his boy.
“Boss, thank you, boss,” boy said before placing the cigar in his mouth. He leaned in toward Boss who then lit the cigar with a torch lighter. Boy knew he had to smoke whenever his Boss told him to, which was a good thing. Boy enjoyed cigars and was starting to need them as much as Boss.
“Ready for a busy night? Bar’s opening up in 10 minutes,” Boss asked as his boy took a deep drag off the cigar.
It was boy’s job to make drinks and make sure the customers were enjoying themselves. “Boss, yes, Boss,” boy said as he exhaled a large cloud of smoke. He loved his life serving his Boss and his customers. It was the only life he knew of.
