SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Chapter 3

David's jeans were baggy enough to allow him to get the twenty-holers onto his feet without any problem. Getting them on were no problem, David just didn't know what to do next. He reached down and attempted to lace them up. He pulled the white laces through as far as they were already done, but then he had to start to thread them through himself. He may as well have been trying out for Mensa.

"I told you I can't do this, Buster. Shall I take them off again?"

"Nah, Lad, give it here..." said Buster, realising that his work was cut out for him. Buster pulled up a small stool in front of the settee where David was sitting and pulled the lad's booted foot and rested it on his own crotch with the sole of the boot pressing through his bleachers and onto his dick, which was beginning to have a life of it's own at this point, but not so much that it showed too much to David, whose whole effort was in getting the boots on.

"You take one end and put it in the top hole and then you thread the other one through each hole from the bottom up, like a ladder, then you wind round the rest of the lace and tie em tight at the top and tuck em in, see?"

"No, I don't get it."

"You will." Buster continued to lace up the twenty-hole boot onto the lad's leg. It fitted him well.

"Does it have to be so tight?" "Oh yeah, that's part of the fun, you'll never forget you've got a fuckin pair of boots on ya then, will ya, Lad?"

Nisbo had cleared away the plates and had taken his place on the settee beside David. "Well, what's it to be Lad? You goin to be a skinhead or not?" A glance from Buster told Nisbo not to rush the lad.

"Give me the other boot, Dave," ordered Buster, "nah, better still, you do it yerself."

Buster guided David through how to properly lace the Rangers and although it took a lot longer than if Buster had done it for him, he got there in the end. "What do you think, Dave?" asked Buster.

"They feel really heavy on my feet, but they're great. I really like how they feel on me."

"Well lets show you how they look, come out into the hall."

David stood up in the twenty-holers. He was only five feet four inches tall and they came almost up to his knees. Nisbo and Buster positioned him in front of the three-quarter length mirror. The young lad gasped when he saw the boots on his feet. His hand went involuntarily to his crotch where his dick was enlarging rapidly, so much so that even his jeans (which were quite baggy) could not hide the tentpole he was producing. "He likes them," said Nisbo to Buster. "Yep, he sure does," replied Buster as he briefly patted David's crotch. Dave gave a boyish smile, he couldn't help himself.

"Don't they look stupid on me though?" he asked earnestly.

"Nah, that's only cos you have such ridiculous gear on you, Lad. If you were wearin more decent stuff, they'd look fuckin excellent."

The three went back into the living room and David sat down on the settee again and went to unlace the boots. "Hey, hey, keep them on for a bit, Dave," ordered Nisbo. "You gotta admit, you like how they feel all tight on yer legs, right?"

"Yeah, I do, they feel great."

"Dave, say, "they feel fuckin great"," urged Nisbo.

"They feel fuckin great." David again involuntarily touched his dick.

"That's better," said Buster, "we gotta get you talkin' like a skin too."

Buster pulled up the small stool again and sat in front of David, and Nisbo sat beside him on the settee. David looked from one to the other. "So what's it to be, Dave?" asked Nisbo, rubbing the lad's number four crop. "Yeah, Dave, I reckon you want to be a skinhead, don't you?" Buster put the pressure on as well.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for it. My parents would freak out. It might be better to work up to it, get my hair cut shorter gradually, and I'll get a bigger pair of boots like these ones next time I buy a pair, how's that?" David was bargaining, but inside his heart was racing. He knew he wanted this more than anything, but in his mind he was thinking only of his parents' reaction, how they'd feel if he ended up looking like Buster or Nisbo.

"Tell you what, why don't you stay with us for the weekend, mate, then make your mind up?" Buster was saying this, but he knew he'd only settle for the kid making his decision that night.

"Yes, but I've got my exams on Monday and I should be studying."

"Yeah, well maybe if you relax you'll do better. Isn't that right?" "Maybe. My parents are expecting me back later tonight."

"But you like being around skinheads, don't you?" "Yes I do, Buster. I really am happy you let me come here tonight."

"And you know inside that you want to be a skinhead, don't you?"

There was a slight pause. "Yes, I do." By now, David was visibly breathing faster and his heart was in his throat. Buster moved his face closer up to David's. "You want to be a skin, don't you, mate?"

"Yeah, I do, but...."

"It's not goin to go away, mate, give in to it. You'd rather be wearin those boots on yer feet than anything else, wouldn't you."

"I love them, Buster, yeah." David was staring intently back at Buster. Nisbo was rubbing the lad's hair hard with his big hand as Buster mindfucked the boy.

"You're fuckin old enough now to make these decisions for yerself, ain't ya? If you want to be a skin, you'll fuckin be one, right?"

David looked straight back at Buster and could only swallow the lump that was in his throat and nodded quickly. The lump in his crotch was bigger than the one in his throat.

Buster turned his head slightly to Nisbo, without letting David loose his gaze. "Nisbo, get the phone. Dave's not goin home tonight."

Nisbo brought Buster the phone and resumed his position. "Phone yer folks and tell them you're stayin over. Tell them you'll be back early tomorrow some time." Buster handed the phone to David. It was a command not a suggestion and without further ado, David rang home. For the moment, Nisbo stopped rubbing his hand over the lad's head. Buster stared at David intensely as he made the phone call. David couldn't look Buster in the face as he phoned his parents.

"Mum, hi, it's David. Mum, my friend has asked me to stay over tonight, is that OK?.......Yes, I'll be home tomorrow sometime...........No, I haven't forgotten that the Prices are coming tomorrow evening.............Yes, Mum, I did my revision this afternoon........No, Mum, I've studied enough...............Yes, OK.......No, I'm really OK, see you tomorrow........Yes, tell them I said hello back.......Bye Mum."

"You want to be a skinhead, don't you. You've been wankin yerself off thinkin about bein a skinhead, haven't you?" Nisbo renewed his attack.

"Yes I have, how do you know all this. You even know what I'm thinking," admitted David truly astonished.

"Too fuckin right I do, Lad. I can see it in ya," replied Nisbo. Buster got closer to David and began to encourage him too. "Go on, mate, tell us you want to be a skin. Tell Nisbo what he wants to hear." David kept looking straight at Buster, mesmerized. "Tell him that you're up for it."

"You've fuckin wanted it for a while now, Lad," whispered Nisbo from the side into David's ear.

"Tell Nisbo that he's right," urged Buster.

The tactic changed.

"I fuckin knew he wasn't up for it the minute I fuckin saw him, Buster," said Nisbo, backing away from David and standing up.

"Nah, he wants it, Nisbo, look at him, he's fuckin shakin." That was true, David was shaking but not through nervousness, his heart was pounding inside his chest because he had fantasised about being a skin for at very least the last six months, ever since he first discovered what they were all about. He had dreamed of meeting some other skins so he could hang out with them and be like them. He just hadn't figured on meeting Buster and Nisbo, two pretty extreme looking skins. He just couldn't deny that he loved how they looked and how they acted. How they walked, God, even how they smoked and drank. Everything about them. The fact that they were queer was the icing on the cake....

"No he fuckin doesn't. I reckon it's better he fuckin goes home to his mum....," began Nisbo again.

"Mmmm.....yeah, maybe he can come back....." Buster was on the point of agreeing with Nisbo when the skins were interrupted.

"I'll do it," said a small voice from the young lad looking up nervously at the two big skins.

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