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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/small-town-slave-boys/small-town-slave-boys-16.html
Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 16 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded) ● Wishcraft (Concluded) ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys 16 Author's Note: There is some unfortunate language from a racist closet-case in this chapter. The man is clearly a villain and he will get what's coming to him. Cory "Take it, you sexy little bitch!" Roger demanded as he thrust his big cock inside me all the way to the root. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that cum shoots out your mouth!" "Do it, Master! Drill my ass harder. Make me scream!" I cried. Roger always knew when I needed a soft, gentle fuck and when I needed my ass pounded hard. This morning I needed it hard. I was still angry over what Craig had done to Dylan and I was trying to use the pain to get past my feelings. Roger could read me like a book. He grabbed the rings in my nipples and twisted them while he pistoned my ass harder than before. Then he let go and slapped me in the face hard enough to make my teeth ache. "Stop daydreaming and pay attention to me, Bitch!" "YES, MASTER!" I cried. "SORRY, MASTER!" He smacked my ass, and the sound of the impact rang around the room. It excited me that I was going to have a red mark for the rest of the day. Roger's voice was gruff, but he was smiling at me. "Damn right! You should be sorry, disrespecting me like that. When my cock is your ass, you keep your mind on that and only that!" When Roger fucked me this fast and this hard, he wasn't able to hit my prostate with every stroke. I could tell he was getting close. I was leaking precum all over my abdomen, but I knew from experience that I wasn't close enough to cum. I was different from most other men in that I didn't really care about ejaculating. Don't get me wrong; I loved to cum. It was just that I derived a different kind of satisfaction from a painful fuck. If Roger brought me off afterwards, it would be great, but if he left me horny and unsatisfied, that too was a thrill for me. Roger flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled my hips up. He rammed his cock back inside me and started rabbit fucking me while he pressed my chest into the mattress. The force of his thrusts was knocking the breath out of my lungs. He gasped, "Going to... fuck you... like... a... bitch. Going to... pound... you... into... the bed. Going to... break... your... slave... cunt!" I was breathing hard too, but I had the energy to milk his cock with my ass. Contracting and relaxing my ass rhythmically was like masturbating. Now my orgasm was closer. "Do it master! Ruin my ass!" I begged. Roger's hand moved beneath me and felt my throbbing dick. He grabbed my balls and squeezed them. Most men would have screamed and lost their erection, but my nuts could take a lot more force than he was using. Instead, the pressure sent me over the edge. I'd been expecting to be left in a state of delirious sexual frustration all day, but Roger still managed to surprise me, even after twelve years. I wasn't going to complain about an orgasm, however, especially one this intense. "YOU'RE SQUEEZING MY LOAD RIGHT OUT OF MY NUTS, MASTER! I'M CUMMING... OH FUCK! CAN I CUM, MASTER? PLEASE LET ME CUM!" Roger yanked harder on my nuts and sank his cock all the way inside me. He barely managed to grunt, "Do it, sexy slave stud! Cum while I shoot my load inside you." I felt the tension in my body release as my spunk shot out all over the sheet below me. Roger bit down on my neck and sucked hard. He was leaving his mark somewhere visible this time. Usually, he expelled a stream of profanities and derogations, which only added to my pleasure. This time he couldn't say anything because he was leaving a line of hickeys on my neck, but I could feel him tense and release. I could feel his cock swell in my ass and then spray his load inside me. Kurt Dad wasn't hiding anything about his relationship anymore. Dylan and I could hear him and Cory in their room. From the sound of it, they were enjoying an extremely vigorous fuck. Dylan looked at me with sad eyes. "I wish that was us." I kissed his lips and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. It was getting pretty long, and I thought it was very sexy. His uncle Cory kept his hair short, but there was something androgynous about Dylan. Steven had designed an exercise program for him that included mostly yoga and stretching, with some calisthenics. He was beginning to get some tone in his muscles, but he was never going to be muscular like his uncle. I liked the way the longer hair made him seem more effeminate. I nibbled his earlobe and said, "Me too, Slave Boy, but the doctor said nothing rough." He whined, "She said that I couldn't lie on my back, but she didn't say you couldn't fuck me, Master." I hadn't fucked him in two days. He couldn't even take a shower, so I was giving him a sponge bath every night. I couldn't risk him making a mess on his bandages. I sighed. "I can't, Dylan. Even with a condom, I could get poop on your bandages if I wasn't careful and I'm afraid of your wounds becoming infected. I could use my hand since we're limited..." Dylan was shaking his head. "Please, Master. I'd rather just wait. Everything I've read on the internet says that slaves should only cum when fucked by their master. Could I just suck your cock for you before breakfast?" I pulled the sheet off and exposed my rampant erection. "Go ahead, Slave Boy. Suck your master's cock." Dylan had been sleeping on his stomach, as the doctor had ordered. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and moved down so that his mouth was level with my groin. He was breathing heavily, and I could feel his breath on my cock, making it swell even more than it was. He extended his tongue and licked the shaft from my balls to the head. The look on his face when he pulled back my foreskin and kissed the slimy head was one of utter adoration. I've said it before, but Dylan's devotion to me was so intense that sometimes it scared me. Sometimes it made me want to run away. It was too much responsibility. But it would crush Dylan, and if he ever recovered, he'd fall victim to whatever creep took him in. Maybe he'd be different with some maturity, but the way he was now, he needed me to take care of him and to keep him safe from abuse. Dylan was trying to swallow my cock, but it was too much for him. He could barely open his mouth wide enough to take the shaft inside and he couldn't fit more than the head inside his throat, leaving half my cock outside his mouth. He was skillful with his hands, stroking it and playing with my full balls. I'd been dreaming about him. I'd been dreaming about my dick in his tight ass. That's why I was already so close to orgasm. And Dylan's mouth felt so good on my cock. His soft lips and warm mouth were teasing the head, sending sensations of pure pleasure throughout my body. I lay back and let them wash over me. I didn't even have to look to know that Dylan wasn't rubbing his dick. He was more devoted to the whole slave thing than I was. Do not get me wrong. It was a fantasy of mine, and it made me feel like the luckiest man ever in the world to have such a pretty guy willing to give me total control. I loved keeping him naked and horny. I loved spanking his firm round butt. I loved having him drop to his knees and kiss my feet. But I was also practical enough to understand that sometimes things happen, and the rules needed to adjust to accommodate them. I would have stroked Dylan's cute little cocklet for him, but he was the kind of guy who would rather remain horny than break the rules. How could that not make me feel like the king of the world? I ran my fingers through his hair. It was getting shaggy, so he needed it trimmed or styled. I was debating what would make him look prettier. Maybe a loose perm so that his blond hair would hang in curls. Once he turned eighteen, I would get his ears pierced and he could wear earrings all the time. His nipples too. Cory was so sexy with his nipples pierced, and there was no reason uncle and nephew couldn't match in that way. I moaned, "Keep that up, Dylan. I'm about to cum. Do you want to taste it, or do you want me to shoot it down your throat?" "Mwanna dasd id," he mumbled around my cock. "I'm going to let you do it your way, Slaveboy. Just... um... just... get ready... because... here... Oh. My Godddd! YES! SUCK IT, SLAVEBOY. HERE... IT... CUMS!!!!" Dylan pulled back and held my cock tightly in one hand while the other held my balls in a firm, but not painful, grip. My body tensed. My cock filled with cum. My nuts drew up closer to my body. And then I shot a massive load into his mouth. And then I shot again, and again, and again. He swallowed as fast as he could, but a few drops had escaped and were running down his chin. His little dick was still red, hard, and throbbing when he climbed up next to me and wrapped his arms around my chest. It was poking into my thigh. I kissed his cum-flavored lips and pulled him as tight as I dared without hurting the wounds on his back. When it was time, Dylan jumped up and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, then he returned to carefully wipe my cock and balls clean. He helped me dress. I had football practice today after school, so Dylan started to pack me a change of clothes. I jumped up and took over. "No. I'll do that Dylan. You get one of your pretty thongs on and you can choose one of my tee shirts." He was confused because he always packed my stuff when he was here. But I couldn't let him see the anal douche in my gym bag. I'd received a text from Mr. Williams. He'd been circumspect so as not to incriminate himself, but reading between the lines I could tell what he was saying. If Dylan couldn't come over tonight to suck his dick and get fucked, then I would have to do it. I was pissed. All I wanted to do was to beat his smug face in, and I would have in an instant � to hell with the consequences. I'd survive it. But after what I'd seen this week, I couldn't risk Pastor Morgan finding out. I honestly feared he would kill him. I'd never been fucked. I didn't even like a finger up my ass. I'd tried my own, and Alicia had stuck hers up there once. As for sucking cock, I'd been thinking lately that I might want to put Dylan's in my mouth if he'd let me. (Strange thought that, since he was supposed to be the slave in this relationship!) But Dylan's cock was small, the smallest I'd ever seen, and it was completely hairless. I thought it was cute, but Mr. William's ugly, hairy, smelly cock made me want to vomit. But somehow, I was going to have to do it. And I was going to have to let him fuck me. Hell, I had no choice. I had to let him do anything he wanted with me unless I wanted Mr. Williams to out us. I could probably survive it unscathed. My father wouldn't care about the gay sex, although he'd be royally pissed about Dylan and I defiling the altar. And of course, he'd blame me, rightfully so since Dylan always did what I told him to do. It was Dylan who was in danger from his father if all this came out. And I couldn't let that happen. Dylan had finished getting dressed. He'd chosen one of my sports tees that came down about four inches lower than his butt. He'd be covered unless he stretched or bent over. I should have made him wear a pair of shorts, but he liked walking around in what amounted to a mini dress, and he was wounded. As strict as he was, there was no chance that Dad would have me punish him right now. And Dylan was kind of taking advantage of it. But who could blame him, given his upbringing? I wrapped an arm around his shoulders as we walked downstairs. Steven raised an eyebrow when we walked down and shook his head. "Now that's a look!" I snorted. "You're just jealous because Damian's not here to strut around half naked." He shrugged. "Yeah. Damian would probably get into it if he saw these two." He gestured into the kitchen where Cory was preparing breakfast wearing nothing but booty shorts and an apron. Dylan ran in to help him. When Cory and Dylan weren't here, I usually just grabbed something fast like cereal, but Cory was getting egg sandwiches with cheese, sliced fruit, and coffee ready. I looked over at Steven and said, "We're going to get so spoiled if Cory moves back into the house." He nodded and added, "And with Dylan right there helping him. If Damian were to move in, I know he'd insist on doing his part too." "Does this make us lazy entitled `gentlemen' just sitting here expecting our `boys' to wait on us hand and foot?" I asked. Dad came down the stairs and said, "Not at all. It makes us very lucky men who have lovers who enjoy serving us. Remember what a mess I was when your mom died? I had no idea or appreciation of all the things she did for us. I remember that I was feeding you guys a lot of cereal and junk food, and the place was a mess." Dad rarely talked like this, even twelve years later. "Yeah, when you started seeing Cory, he started cleaning and cooking and... well, we never blamed you, but we were really relieved. Even if we did think it strange that our dad was having sleepovers with a friend. Some of our friends told us that it was weird. Their dads never had sleepovers. That was a kid's thing." I couldn't help but laugh. "I was eleven when Billy Daniels told me that you two were... his words not mine... fucking faggots." Dad sat down and sighed. "Sorry about that. I tried to shield you boys from that kind of trouble at school, even though it meant keeping Cory at more of a distance than I wanted. When you were eleven and, Steven, you were twelve, I wanted to marry Cory, to give him some official status. I was still debating the possible ramifications for my business in this lovely little backwards town when Cory's sister threw a fit over me allowing Cory to see Dylan, so I had to push him even further away. Well, that's almost over." I perked up at that news. "Does that mean that you two are going to get married?" Steven sighed. "Haven't you figured it out? He's just waiting for Dylan to turn eighteen so his parents can't force him to stay away from our house. Don't let all the `master' and `sir' stuff fool you." He turned to Dad and said, "Unlike my na�ve little brother, I figured it out on my own. It was sometime those first few years. I was nine or ten, but I already knew that I was different from the other boys. I remember one day when I was about to go upstairs to bed and you two were in the kitchen. I saw you standing in the kitchen, your arms around Cory from behind and you were kissing his neck." "Hmm. I thought I was more careful than that," Dad said. Steven shook his head. "Nope. You could keep things from Kurt because he ran through the house yelling and stomping. I was a lot quieter than he was. But don't worry about it. That was the exact moment that I knew how I was different from the other boys. Suddenly everything made sense to me, and I understood that I liked girls just fine, but it was other boys who made my heart beat a little faster and my palms break out in a sweat." Dad sighed. "I'm glad you didn't say anything at the time." He swallowed and then exhaled slowly. "Confession time. I didn't understand things back then the way I do now. I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't had feelings for boys back when I was in school. I didn't understand what they were until later, but I'd always denied that they were romantic or sexual. I liked women too, so when I fell in love with your mother, it was the perfect solution. I didn't have to think about it deeply, but..." He was getting choked up, so I interrupted him. "It's okay, Dad. You don't have to share anything if it's going to bring up bad memories." Steven put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Let him talk, Kurt. I think he needs to tell us something." Dad nodded and then said, "The shame I have to confess is that I was ashamed of being gay. I was totally, one hundred percent in love with Cory, as deeply in love with him as I had been with your mother, but I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want you boys to be ashamed of me." Steven whispered, "Does Cory know?" "Yes, son, he does. We had this discussion years ago. Trust me, his internalized homophobia was so deep that he didn't even know how it was affecting his behavior. It was the key issue behind his low self-esteem and his need to be punished." "How did you deal with it?" I asked. I needed to know. I was sure that Dylan had similar issues. How could he not, given who his father was? "Counseling son. Lots of counseling. We visited a gay counselor friend of Josie. He helped us to deal with our issues." I shook my head. "I can't believe you were homophobic dad. You've always been so tolerant of everyone." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and said, "Believe it son. It was the way I was raised." Memories of Dad's family flashed into my mind. We hardly ever saw them. Grandpa George and Grandma Gladys were really unpleasant people. I'd never forgive them for referring to my mother as Dad's "nigger bride". They didn't know I'd overheard them. If that's what they thought of her, what did they really think of Steven and me? We were black. My skin was as black as mom's. And they were whiny and greedy. All they ever did was ask Dad for money. They never came around unless they wanted something. "It's all right, Dad," I said. And Steven gave a weak smile. "We've met your parents, Dad. If anyone should be ashamed, it's them." We all laughed a little at that, then Dad stood up and said, "Come over here boys. You're not too old to hug your old man." "Never," we agreed, as we embraced him in a triple hug. I was his size now, maybe a little taller, and Steven towered over both of us. My nose was burning, and my eyes were threatening to tear up as I realized that I was basically a man at seventeen and my relationship with my dad was changing, not for the worse, but becoming something different. We were still hugging when Dylan came into the room and announced, "Breakfast is ready, Sirs!" We sat at the dining room table, while Cory and Dylan served us our breakfast. Egg sandwiches with sharp cheddar cheese on grilled multigrain bread with fresh sliced tomatoes. Each of our plates came with a cup of orange and grapefruit wedges. They'd also made strong coffee. They didn't eat with us; they stood back and made sure we had everything we needed. Afterward, Steven, Dad, and I had to leave for school or work. Cory was taking the week off to look after Dylan, who was completing his schoolwork online until he healed. When I was behind the wheel of my car getting ready to pull out of the lane, I got the text I'd been waiting for. Just like always, Greg had my back. I had to stop and take a few breaths before I continued. Suddenly the day seemed a little brighter. Tommy "Get your lazy ass up!" Donny yelled from the kitchen. I sat up and kicked the sheet off my body. I was wearing sweatpants and a tee shirt, and my dick was painfully hard. For the last two days, I hadn't had Dylan around to suck my dick and I was stubbornly refusing to beat off. I was saving my ball juice for him. I'd been sleeping on Donny's couch since Dad had come home on Tuesday. After she had returned from seeing Dylan, Mom had described his wounds to me. We were sitting in the living room when he came in and Mom called out, "Come in here, Craig. I need to speak with you." I'd never heard her be so forceful with him. I sat upright to listen. "What do you want now, Beth? I have things to do." She didn't get up. She sat back in her chair and said, "I thought you'd like to know that Dylan is under a doctor's treatment because of the beating you gave him." "It wasn't that bad. I had worse in my day. He'll be fine," he said dismissively. He turned and started to walk away, but Mom said, "I'm not finished talking to you, Craig. Turn around and face me." Dad's face was red when he spun around. "Don't you talk to me like that! I am the head of this house. For the husband is head of the wife, as also Christ is head of the church." Mom's voice was calm and even. "Shut up, Craig. You need to hear what I have to say. If you strike one of my children like that again, I will make you sorry that you were ever born." "Don't threaten me, woman!" he said. Then he looked around. "Where is Dylan?" Mom smiled. "My brother is taking care of him until he's able to return to school. That's right, Craig. He's not allowed to go back to school until next week. That's how badly you hurt him," Dad yelled, "Great. Now Paul knows our business. You turn everything around you into shit. Did you know that, Beth?" She lost her decorum. She stood up and raised her voice. "Don't worry. There's nothing you can do that would make Paul have any less respect for you than he already does. He knows what you are. But Dylan isn't with Paul. He's with Cory." Dad's face grew even redder. "I will not have Cory around our kids. He's an unrepentant faggot and he'll corrupt them. We've had this discussion before. You agreed..." Mom started yelling, "I agreed to shut you up, and to keep you away from my baby brother, you sick hypocrite. I'm changing the rules. Cory is welcome to see Dylan... Tommy too. And if you say one thing about it or try to interfere in any way, I will tell a not very pretty tale to everyone, starting with the Ladies Auxiliary at the church! Don't fuck with me on this one, Craig!" Dad threw his hands up in the air and said, "Fine. Dylan's a little faggot too, just like his uncle. I should have beaten him harder until I drove it out of him!" And that was when I jumped off the couch and tackled dad. He fought back more effectively this time. He split my lip, but I think I broke his nose. I heard a crunch, and he started yelling. When he let go of me, I jumped up and started kicking him. He grabbed my leg and pulled me down onto the floor with a crash. He was choking me, and I was digging my thumbnails into his wrists. Mom picked up a lamp and broke it on Dad's head. "ENOUGH! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!" Dad and I were both startled by that outburst. We stopped fighting and dragged ourselves to our feet. Mom looked at me and said, "Go pack enough clothes for a week. You'll be staying with Donny until the two of you cool down." She sighed and pointed toward Dad's home office. "Go sit in your office and calm down. Don't come out until Tommy has gone." ********** I was lost in thought, rubbing the cuts on my knuckles. It looked like I'd been punching a wall, but I'd actually drawn blood while fighting with Dad. It was more painful than most people imagined to punch someone in the face. Donny tossed me a pepperoni hot pocket wrapped in a paper towel. "Don't get cocky just because you punched the old man. You weren't the first." I unwrapped the hot pocket and juggled it between my hands. It was still burning hot. "Maybe, but I was the one who got Mom to stand up to him." Donny shook his head. "Fucking bitch just ignored him while he was beating on me, but as soon as he laid a finger on precious little Dylan she crawls out of her bottle and says something." I shrugged. "You were capable of taking care of yourself. Dylan isn't." Donny gave me a long stare. "Why did you decide to protect Dylan anyway? You weren't clear on the details." "I just lost control when Dad started beating on him. Dylan curled up into a ball and didn't even try to fight back, and Dad kept beating him anyway." "Bullshit!" Donny said. "There has to be more to it than that. Tell me the truth." I hesitated. If I told him that it was none of his business, he'd never let it go. I was trying to think of anything I could say that would satisfy his curiosity, but nothing came to mind. I decided to go with the truth. "Dylan is my bitch. He sucks my dick whenever I need it. And I fuck his tight ass at least once a day." Donny gave me a high five. "Damn, Bro! Just fifteen years old and already a man." I asked, "So you don't think I'm gay because I'm fucking Dylan?" Donny shook his head. "Nah, Bro. You could be gay. You could be bi, like me. Oh yeah. You look surprised, but I've got a few fags who take care of my needs. Usually, they're less trouble than chicks and you don't have to worry about them getting pregnant." I was a little confused. "What do you mean that I could be `gay' but not a `fag'?" Donny settled back into the recliner and said, "You can be a gay man, or a bisexual man, or a straight man. But that doesn't mean that you're a `fag'. A fag is a guy... well, I personally do not think of them as guys... a fag is someone who was put on this earth to serve men like us. People like Dylan. They'll happily suck any cock that's given to them. They get whiny like girls do, but they're not girls. You can just slap them around until they do what you tell them. And no matter how much they get slapped around, they get hard when they suck your dick. That's how you can tell that they really like it." That was me and Dylan. I had to slap him around to make him do what he was told, but only the first time. After that he'd been happy to suck my dick. Donny had given me the idea in the first place, but I thought he'd been joking until I proved it to myself. Still, the last thing I suspected was that Donny was making use of fags. I took a bite from my hot pocket, chewed it slowly so I had time to think, and then asked, "Do I get to meet any of these fags of yours because I haven't dropped a load since Dylan went to stay with Cory." Donny sighed and ran his hand across the front of his sweatpants. "Have you seen our uncle Cory?" I shook my head. "No. Why?" He sighed. "Imagine Dylan, but instead of being skinny he's got muscle. He still has the same face, just a little older. Could you imagine having both of them here, on all fours on that carpet? The two of us fucking them until they shot their fag loads on the floor?" I was trying to picture a muscular Dylan. To tell the truth, I didn't really see the appeal. Since the first time I fucked Dylan, I'd been noticing other guys at school. The big muscle boys didn't really do it for me, but there were a few guys like Dylan, short, skinny, and kind of girly. That's what I liked. I laughed inwardly. If Donny liked the muscle boys, did that make him gayer than me? I finished chewing the last of my hot pocket. "You didn't answer my question, Donny. Do I get to meet any of these fags of yours?" He gave it some thought and then replied, "This weekend. You'll still be here. I'll get one of them to come by and clean the place. We can fuck him when he's done, but only if you remember to call me `Don'. I'm not a kid anymore." "Sure thing, Don." ********** Donny dropped me off at school and went to work. I paid special attention to the boys today. By lunchtime, I'd found what I was looking for. There was a boy named Patrick O'Rourke who'd been in class with me since elementary school. He was part of a group of smart nerdy kids who hung around together and played card games at lunch. This year, he and I shared a lunch period and all his friends had lunch the other period. He usually ate alone. Patrick was Dylan's size, a few inches shorter than me. He was one of those September births, so he was almost a year younger than the rest of us. He'd be turning fifteen at the end of the week, but I'd be turning sixteen in October. He had dark chestnut hair that hung loose to his collar, and his eyes were dark green. He probably didn't weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds, giving him that scrawny body type that made me chub. I sat down next to him at the table in the lunchroom. "Hey, Patrick, how are you doing today?" He seemed startled by my presence. "Um... okay, I guess. How are you doing today?" I pressed my leg against his and scooted right next to him. I'd been right. He'd positioned himself so that he had a clear line of sight to the table where the football team was seated. His view of Greg Miller and Kurt Groth was unimpeded. That's why Patrick had been so distracted when I walked over. I ignored Patrick's canned response and asked, "Do you like what you see?" He sat up straight and stared at me with a fearful look on his face. "W... w... what do you mean?" I didn't waste any time. I reached over and pinched the erection that tented his jeans. "You're hard from watching the football team eat their lunch. You must be a very horny boy." He put his hand down and tried to pull mine off his cock, but he wasn't strong enough. He whispered, "I'm not. I just..." I squeezed his erection tighter and said, "Don't lie to me, Patrick. I've known you were gay since fourth grade. Don't try to deny it." Damn! Tears were springing to his eyes. "What do you want? Please don't tell anyone." I whispered, "Shh. Everyone here already knows." He shook his head. "They suspect, Tommy. They don't know." "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me, so long as you do what you're told," I promised. His shoulders slumped. "What do I have to do?" I took his right hand and put it on my crotch so that his small hand was pressing against my hardon. "For now, just rub my dick for me. After I eat, we're going to go somewhere more private." It looked like I wasn't going to have to slap Patrick around at all to get him to fall in line. I wondered if someone else had already taught him his place. He was looking around nervously but didn't stop rubbing my dick through my jeans. I took my time eating. The food was terrible, but Patrick's hand felt good on my cock. When we were through, I made him take both our trays up to the window to turn them in. I was going to make him my bitch here at school the same way that Dylan was my bitch at home. A sudden image of Dylan bussing Kurt Groth's tray, Dylan running to fetch a bottle of cold water from the vending machine, and Dylan sitting glued to Kurt's side here in the cafeteria and in the pews at church burst into my mind. Fuck me! Kurt Groth was Dylan's secret boyfriend. He was the one Dylan was shaving his clit and pussy for. I'd overlooked what was staring me in the face because Kurt and Dylan had been best friends for so long. And my parents had let him stay over at the Groth household, all these years, for weeks at a time. How long has Kurt been fucking my brother? How long has he been fucking my bitch? I was Dylan's brother. His ass rightfully belonged to me. I just didn't know what I was going to do about it. I led Patrick to the third-floor bathroom on the far side of the building. It was usually empty during the day because the corridor contained the Exceptional Student Services office and classrooms. There weren't a lot of students there. I pulled Patrick into the far stall and locked the door. He'd grown so pale that his skin looked like Dylan's. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Turn around and take your clothes off. I want to see your butt while you're stripping, not your penis," I commanded. He was an obedient boy. While he was doing what he was told, I took out my phone and set it to record audio before putting it back in my hoodie pocket. I planned to record our conversation here and edit it later. Aside from a few pimples on his back, Patrick was looking fine. He was thin but not so scrawny you could see his bones sticking out. His butt was a little less round than Dylan's, but it was still sexy. (Dylan had a bubble butt like a girl. It was the only fleshy part of his body.) When Patrick bent over, I noticed that he had only a few sparse hairs around his hole. I could pluck them out with my fingers in just a few minutes, and I would later if I had to. Now, I didn't have time to mess with his butt pussy. When he was done, I took his clothes and put them in the corner between the toilet and the walls. "Turn around and kneel in front of me, Patrick." He was crying a little, but his cock was hard and leaking. I reached out and ran my hands slowly across the shaft, making his legs shake a little. "Tell me that you want to suck my cock." He sniffled and then said, "I want to suck your dick, Tommy." I patted his cheek. "Tell me again, and this time make me believe it. And call me Sir." I still had one hand on Patrick's little dick. I was so fucking happy that his cock was tiny, maybe even smaller than Dylan's. It was like this boy was made for me, and I hadn't even noticed him until Dylan had opened my eyes to what I was missing. When I had told him to call me Sir his little cock had jumped in my hand. Patrick cleared his throat and spoke clearly. "Please, Sir, let me suck your cock. I want to put it in my mouth and suck it until you cum." I motioned with my hand for him to say more. I wanted to see where he went with it. And he did not disappoint me. "I want to swallow your cum, Sir. I want to see what your man seed tastes like." I wanted more confessions for my recording. I asked, "Will this be the first cock you've ever sucked, boy?" I was surprised when he shook his head. "No, Sir. I've sucked... I can't say whose I've sucked, Sir, but it won't be my first." "So, you're a cocksucker," I stated for the recording. He nodded and replied. "Yes, Sir. I'm a cocksucker. I like sucking cock." "How long have you been a cocksucker?" He took a deep breath and then said, "Four years, Sir. I've been sucking cock for four years now." Damn! This boy had started sucking cock when he was ten years old. When I was in sixth grade, I could have gotten him to suck my dick. That was the last time I'd gone over to his house, and I'd spent the night. Now that I knew, I planned to make up for lost time. Still, I had to wonder � whose cock was he sucking when he was only ten? He was turned on by this confession. I could tell by the twitch in his tiny cock. I looked him in the eye and ordered, "Pull down my pants and get my cock out." He reached up and undid the waistband of my jeans and then pulled them down, followed by my boxer briefs. My cock was hard and ready to explode, so this was going to be a short encounter. He looked up at me and asked, "Can I please suck your big cock, Sir?" "Yes, boy. You can suck my cock." Patrick licked his lips and then opened his mouth wide to take my cock inside. He knew how to keep his teeth covered, just like Dylan did. I pulled out my phone and switched to video. When he looked up and saw it, a look of panic crossed his face, but he quickly resigned himself to the fact that I wasn't going to stop recording no matter what. "Look up at me while you're sucking my dick and spread your legs so everyone can see how hard your dick is while you're sucking cock," I said. Someone had trained this boy well. He spread his slender thighs exposing his tiny erection. He didn't seem to have any embarrassment over it, despite it being only about three inches long and extremely thin. I made sure to record it long enough to catch the glint of precum dripping from the tip. The way he was moaning and smiling around my cock, he looked like a sexy little whore. I felt my scrotum tightening, pulling my nuts tight against my cock. I had to keep my voice low because I didn't want to be overheard. "Fuck, Patty! You're an expert cocksucker! I'm... going... to... blow... my... LOAD!" I put one hand on the back of his head and pulled him close to me, burying my cock in his throat. I still held the camera with the other. "Get ready... to swallow. Here... it... comes! Fuck! Suck it down so I can mark you as mine!" Patty's mouth on my dick was sending wave after wave of pleasure through my cock, my belly, my heart, even up my spine to the top of my head. My cock was tingling like a tongue on a 9-volt battery. Then my whole abdomen tightened. So did my ass and my scrotum. When those muscles released, my cock exploded in his mouth. I hadn't cum in days, so I shot six loads and he swallowed them greedily. After the last he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue showing the camera the glistening layer of semen covering it. Then he pulled it inside and showed me that it was clean. "Now masturbate for me, boy. Catch it in your hand and eat it," I demanded. He smiled up at me. Damn he was pretty. "Can I clean your cock for you first, Sir?" I nodded and said, "Yes." So, he took my cock back into his mouth and used his tongue to clean all the spunk off it. Then he spread his knees as far as they could go and used two fingers and his thumb to start masturbating. It took him almost no time before he started gasping, his narrow chest heaving. Then he cried out softly, "I'm cumming, Sir!" He caught all his spunk in his hand and then brought it to his mouth. He looked up at the camera and stuck out his tongue. He stirred the little pool of semen and then lapped it up. I laughed and said, "You've done this before." He nodded. "My... um... my lover is out of town, and sometimes he makes me do this for him on video chat." "You sound devoted to this lover of yours," I said. He nodded. "I love him more than anyone else, and... I have to tell him about you. He won't mind, but he may be angry that we did it without permission." I shrugged. "Let him know but remind him that I have you on video. If he cares about you, he'll play nice. Where did you meet this lover of yours?" Patty grinned. "I met him at my house, actually." "A friend of the family? An uncle? A cousin?" I asked. "Something like that," he replied coyly. I put one hand on his bare shoulder. "You're not afraid of me anymore, are you?" He shook his head and replied, "No. I was afraid you were going to hurt me or denounce me in front of everyone, but not anymore." "Why not," I asked. He shrugged and said, "You wouldn't beat up someone who was willing to suck your dick for you whenever you wanted, and you wouldn't tell everyone about it either. If you did, you wouldn't get your dick sucked anymore." I laughed at his bluntness. "And what if I want to fuck your sexy ass?" He sighed, "Mm! I hope my lover will let me. I haven't been fucked in a while and toys aren't the same." I couldn't help but laugh at his boldness. We both got dressed and went to class. We were ten minutes late, but we didn't care. Damian I left school as soon as possible. With Dylan injured, Steven was available to see me. I know that it sounded petty and selfish of me, but Steven had been tasked with transporting Dylan around and it was cutting into our time together. My parents didn't like me staying out late on school nights, and my mom always got a little upset when I missed dinner. I was the youngest and the only one still at home she could try to force feed. She was an excellent cook, and I loved her dearly, but I'd be as big as a house if I tried to eat everything she put in front of me. When I got to the Groth house, Dylan opened the door. He was wearing one of Kurt's tee shirts, belted with a tie. It looked like a dress. Of course, he was smiling. I gave him a cautious hug, being careful to avoid his back. Cory came into the living room dressed in a tiny pair of shorts that left the bottom of his buttocks exposed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his smooth chest was exposed. Cory looked a lot like Dylan, but what little muscle he had was fully toned. I appreciated the sight. Cory stood on his tiptoes to give me a hug. "Steven will be back soon. Let me get you some iced tea and... a sandwich?" I seldom ate lunch at school, so I accepted his offer. Dylan put an arm around my waist and said, "You usually dress so... stylishly, but today you look kind of drab. Is there something wrong?" I shook my head. "No... yes... maybe. My brother asked me to tone down my dress at school so no one would know I was gay." Dylan smiled and started unbuttoning my shirt. "But everyone here knows that you're gay. You need to get sexy before Steven gets here." I let him undo all my buttons, revealing the bright rainbow striped muscle shirt I'd worn underneath my plain seafoam green polo. "That's better!" He pulled my shirt off and folded it neatly before laying it across the back of the couch. Then he looked at my jeans and shook his head. "That's good enough for the guys. But you don't want to be one of the guys, do you? You're one of the boys at heart." He put his hands on my waistband and waited for my approval before undoing the first button. Then he rapidly undid them all and pulled my jeans down revealing the thong I was wearing, a charcoal gray band, trim, and strap with a neon pink pouch. I laughed and said, "There isn't a pair of tiny shorts here that will fit me, so I think the jeans have to stay." "Or..." he paused... "you can just wear that sexy thong so that Steven knows exactly what you're here for." I couldn't help but laugh. Dylan joined in and I let him take my jeans off. When Cory came in with glasses of iced tea, he shook his head. "Roger is going to lose it when he sees you dressed like that." I stopped laughing and said, "I should just put my jeans back on then." Cory broke out laughing too. "No. It will do him good to get his heart pumping. It's not that he won't appreciate the sight. He just thinks he shouldn't have underage teens running around bare ass naked or in their underwear just in case someone came peeping through the windows." "I don't want to make him mad," I said. Dylan chimed in. "He won't be mad at you. He'll just chew Steven out in private and then send him to spank you. That's what he did to Kurt the last time I came into the kitchen naked." Cory was still laughing. "You can always say that I told you it was okay. I'm always up for a spanking." I started laughing again too. "Is that what we boys do here at the Groth house? Break the rules and hope to get a spanking?" Both Cory and Dylan started laughing and nodding their heads. Cory looked young enough to be Dylan's older brother. With only twelve years between them, they were closer in age than me and my oldest sister. I didn't know the whole story, but Dylan's mom had kept her baby brother from seeing her kids for years. Now that these two were together they acted like long lost siblings. Cory put on some music and got the three of us dancing. I hadn't felt this gay since Indianapolis and I was loving it. We didn't even hear Steven come in, and we didn't see him until he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest. He started swaying to the music and kissing my neck. I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He moved them up to his shoulder and put his hands around my waist instead, letting them slide down to cup my ass. He tugged on the strap of my thong, causing it to rub against my hole. Shivers ran up my spine and my dick pressed against the stretchy cloth of the pouch. He kissed my neck and then whispered, "You shouldn't be naked outside the bedroom until there are no more minors in this house. It'll look bad if someone comes by." "I know. Cory told me that your dad would order you to spank me for breaking the rules. We could always save him the time. You could take me upstairs and spank me before your dad gets here," I said. "Damn, you're sexy! Dancing here in a thong, your dick poking out like a pointer, your sexy ass sending out undeniable `come fuck me' signals. And now you're begging to get spanked." "If my ass is telling you that it's so hungry, maybe you should listen to it and do as you're told," I replied. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. "Spank first; fuck later," he said. He started walking toward the stairs, but I said, "WAIT! My clothes!" Cory grabbed them and brought them over to hand them to me. He was laughing. "I don't want to delay your spanking." Steven laughed and said, "I know you two got this started. When they get back, Dad can take care of you and Kurt can spank Dylan." As Steven started climbing the stairs, Dylan called out with a fake pout, "Kurt won't spank me; I'm injured." And Steven replied, "I'll make sure he spanks you once you've healed and he'll add another ten swats for every day he's delayed." Steven took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the top, he put me down and swatted my butt. "Go to the bathroom and douche your butt. And use saline, not tap water!" I hurried into the bathroom and found my douche under the sink. Steven had labeled it for me. I also found the neutral saline and a big pump bottle of lube. I made sure to clean myself out and then washed the douche carefully before putting it away. Steven had the music on when I got to his room. He was sitting on the bed, and he had a round leather clad paddle lying next to him. He was wearing only a pair of briefs cut high on the side. His dick was so hard that it was jutting up, threatening to burst through his underwear. He tapped the paddle with his finger and said, "I believe that I owe you a spanking, stud. The question is, should I give you a gentle sexy spanking, or should I give you a real spanking, like Kurt gives Dylan." I knew he was challenging me, but I couldn't resist. "I can take anything Dylan can take. Bring it on big boy." He handed me a pair of dice. "When Dylan gets a spanking, he rolls these two dice to determine how many swats he gets." I grabbed the dice and rolled them on the floor. They came up 5 and 6. "That's near maximum, but I can take 11 swats." Steven started laughing and shaking his head. "We multiply them together, so that's 30 you have coming. Of course, I can substitute 10 swats for a solid smack to the balls. That's 30 swats, 3 smacks to the balls, or some combination of the two. You know 1 ball smack and 20 swats, 2 ball smacks and 10 swats." "With the paddle?" I asked. He nodded. "Yep. Swats and ball smacks, both with the paddle." I shook my head. "I'll take 30 swats, thank you very much." He waved the paddle in my face and said with a smile, "This is punishment, not playing around. You get another 5 swats for not saying sir." "Mm, how did you know that I'd like this game, sir?" I asked. He smiled wickedly and replied, "You told me that you wanted to be treated like my submissive when you were around Cory and Dylan. And that's another 5 swats for thinking this is a game." "I'm going to shut up now, sir, so I don't earn any more swats," I said. Steven I'd been skeptical when Damian told me that he wanted to try and be submissive when around my family, but then I came home and saw him dancing with Cory and Dylan. He was wearing a rainbow muscle shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, showing off his sexy body, well-toned by years of swimming. His amazing ass, so firm and round, was displayed nicely with a dark gray strap running between his cheeks and a neon pink pouch barely containing his swollen cock. Damian fit well with the other two. His dick, although average in size, was the thing that distinguished him from them. They were both much smaller than average, making only the barest bulge in the front of their tight shorts. Although taller and sturdier in build than Cory, their bodies were similarly muscled, and he seemed right at home dancing with them. He wasn't truly submissive, but he deserved the chance to indulge his submissive side when he was able. I almost didn't want to interrupt the dance. I was incredibly aroused by watching these three sexy guys, even though one of them was my brother's boy and the other belonged to my father. I didn't really consider myself dominant, but maybe that was because I was comparing myself to Dad and Kurt. I was coming to realize that, compared to Damian, I was pretty darn dominant. I had to stop Damian and put some clothes on him before Dad got here because my father had made it clear that there would be no nudity in the common areas so long as minors were present. It wouldn't do for stories to pass around town that we were "corrupting minors". Things were at a delicate stage with Dylan. Pastor Morgan could make trouble in countless ways. I walked up behind Damian and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tight to my chest. I wasn't a great dancer, but I moved to the music as best I could. I kissed his neck and ran a hand across his tight belly. When he turned around to face me, I moved his hands to my shoulder so I could move mine lower to feel his smooth ass. He gave the tiniest of moans, so I pulled the strap of his thong tight to make it rub against his hole. I kissed his neck again and whispered, "You shouldn't be naked outside the bedroom until there are no more minors in this house. It'll look bad if someone comes by." Cory smiled at me and suggested that I spank him before my dad came home and ordered me to do it. And that was when I knew that he was asking me for a spanking. My cock seemed to like that idea. It pressed painfully against the crotch of my jeans. I decided to give him what both of us obviously desired. I threw him over my shoulder and took him upstairs, pausing only long enough for Cory to hand him his clothes. While he was getting ready, I took all my clothes off except for my briefs. My ass had a metaphorical itch that I really wanted Damian to satisfy for me, but that wasn't going to happen today. I had to let him play out his submissive desires. And I had to give him a real spanking. I knew for a fact that he'd never had one. His parents weren't the spanking type and Damian was a good boy, following all the rules his parents laid down, except for the one about no premarital sex. And he broke that one with great regularity and enthusiasm. I made sure that he wanted a real spanking before having him roll dice to determine how many swats he had coming. I loved the look on his face when he rolled a 5 and a 6 and thought he'd earned 11 swats instead of thirty. He earned another 10 swats for failing to call me "sir" and for treating the spanking as a game. I had intended to put him over my lap, so I could feel his erection poking into my thighs, but I wanted to make this as authentic as possible. He had to know what it felt like if he was going to make an informed decision. As much as the idea of spanking his fine ass was exciting me, I was not going to create this kind of relationship with Damian unless I was completely sure that he was making an informed decision. I reached down and adjusted his cock and balls, making certain that they would be protected by his thighs. "Let's keep your jewels safe from harm, stud. I'm going to keep an eye out, but I need you to let me know if your cock and balls aren't safe on the other side of your legs. I don't intend to strike you anywhere but your nice round butt, but you could always move at the last moment, and I could hit down here." I ran a hand up his muscular thigh. He moaned and arched his back. "I trust you, sir." I shook my head. "It's not about trust, Damian. I hope you never have reason not to trust me, but this is about safety. While we're on that subject. This spanking is going to hurt. It won't be anything that Dylan and Cory don't get, but you have the opportunity to end it at any time. If you want me to stop, just say... `June bug', and I'll stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir. If I say `June bug' you'll stop and you won't ask questions," he replied. I ran a hand over his smooth round ass and then held the paddle in front of his face. "Good. I'm glad you understand. Now kiss the paddle." He wasn't smiling and his face said that he understood that it wasn't a joke. He looked serious but determined. I placed a hand in the small of his back and pulled the paddle back. I swung it in a wide arc. When it hit his ass, he jumped forward a little and cried out, "That's one! Thank you, sir. May I have another!" I chuckled. "Someone has been reading naughty stories online." He blushed and his ears turned red. "Yes, sir. I have, sir. I want to experience this exactly the way it's supposed to be, sir." I struck him again, making him cry out a second time. He kept the words the same, like a mantra. Each time I waited until he was back in a safe position before striking him again. I wasn't holding back. I let him have the full force of the blow. His ass reddened with each strike, and by the tenth it wasn't fading back to white. It remained rosy. I paused. "Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?" He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "NO, SIR! I have 30 more coming, sir." I rubbed his ass. It felt a little warm. Then I slid my hand between his legs and felt his erection. Damn if he wasn't still hard as a steel rod and leaking like crazy. I withdrew my hand and put it on the small of his back again. Then I swung the paddle again. This time he cried out, "FU... FUDGE! That hurt... ELEVEN! ELEVEN, sir. That was eleven, sir. May I please have another!" He'd almost forgotten to count, and he'd almost used "naughty language". It was sweet how he tried to keep his language clean like the "good boy" he was. I kissed his reddened butt cheeks and then pressed gently down on the small of his back again. I gave him another nine hard swats without comment. He didn't fail to count them out. His body had become slick with sweat and his nose was running. Damian sniffled and said, "Please, sir... " "Please stop?" I asked. He shook his head and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "No, sir. Please don't ask me if I want to stop, sir. I want to see it through, sir. I need to see it through." I thought he was going to start crying. I put an arm around his shoulder and kissed his sweaty temple. My mind wanted me to call it off, but my body was responding to Damian's vulnerability, his need to submit to my hand. I was ready to drop a load in my briefs without touching myself. Was this what Kurt and Dad experienced every time they had their submissive lovers beneath their hand? Having him so completely in my power sent a thrill through my entire body. I knelt upright beside him on the bed and made sure he was in a safe position. Then I signaled that I was ready to resume by placing my hand on the small of his back again. Damian was a determined stud. He arched his back a little, raising his hips to give me a better target. His butt was red now. I pulled the paddle back and swung it against his cheeks. I reduced the force by cutting the arc of my swing in half. As I suspected, his reaction was the same because he was sore enough now that it felt the same to him. He counted each stroke and asked for another. By the time he reached 30, he was crying openly. Before I could pause, he cried out, "Please, sir! Don't pause. Just give me the last 10!" I was regretting my decision to add those extra ten swats, but it was too late to back down now. If that was what he wanted, that was what I was going to do. He knew the safe word and he was making the conscious decision to continue. I gave him the last ten as quickly as I could without risking his safety. He was openly sobbing as he counted them out. When I landed the last blow, he cried out, "40 sir! Thank you, sir! Can I have another, sir?" He was running on automatic. I put the paddle down and slid into bed next to him. I pulled him into my arms and held him until he stopped crying. "I love you, Damian. Is this really what you want? Do you want me to spank you again in the future?" He nodded. "If I screw up, I want you to spank me. But I'm never going to play around and tease you into spanking me again." I laughed as I brushed his damp hair back from his sweaty forehead. "Damian, you are the best-behaved young man I've ever met. I'm kind of a straight arrow myself and you make me feel like a bad boy. You'll never get another spanking again in that case." He kissed my lips and ran his hand down my chest. "I want you to be in charge. My dad never raised a hand to my mom, but no one doubts that he's in charge. That's what I want from you. I want you to be the boss in our relationship and I want to do what you say." I kissed him back and said, "You don't need me to spank you for that." He laid his head against my chest and said, "I know, Steven. I just wanted to see what it felt like, and I wanted you to know that I was willing to submit to you in this way." I stroked his hair gently. "So, you aren't interested in an equal relationship?" He shook his head. "My parents have a perfect relationship. They love each other, they support each other, and I've never heard them argue. That's what I want. It's the only model I know that works, and it's what I want." I kissed him again, this time with passion. My tongue thrust inside his mouth and wrestled him into submission. We both started laughing, which kind of ruined the moment. I said, "If that's what you want, Damian, it's what you'll have. If we get married, you can even promise to obey me, but no more spanking when you make a mistake. Your parents don't have that kind of relationship and you said you wanted one like theirs." He ran one hand along my jaw and asked, "Can I still have the other kind of spanking? The sexy kind?" I would have swatted his butt playfully, but I was afraid of hurting him. "Of course, you can, Damian. If you want me to warm your butt a little before fucking it, I will." He put his hand on my erection and said, "You must have liked that. You're ready to burst any moment." I touched his hard cock through his sopping wet thong and replied, "So are you." He moaned, "Please, Steven, make love to me now." I rolled him over onto his back and pulled his wet thong off. His cock was pulsing, and it was harder than I'd ever seen it. I knew that he would cum immediately if I touched it. That's how close he was. I pulled my briefs off and tossed them over my shoulder. I wasn't going to last long myself. That spanking had been a highly charged experience for both of us. Damian pulled his legs back and held them back on either side of his chest. His cheeks were an angry red, but his sexy hole was winking at me. I grabbed the lube and rubbed it gently around the rim. He inhaled sharply and said, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph! I'm so excited my... anus... feels like it's on fire. I need you inside me now, sir." I applied more lube and slowly worked it inside him. "I can't rush this, Damian. We've been through this before. I will never hurt you during sex, ever. You're a little loose because you're excited, but you need to relax just a little more." Then I patted the side of his face. "And just call me `Steven' or `Steve'. I don't need a `sir' from you." He arched his back and sighed with pleasure as my finger slid inside him. "Yes, s... Steven." His lips were parted, and he was breathing heavily. He was staring into my eyes, and I could see his need. Oh my God, he's beautiful, I thought. And that's when I realized it. I'd been fighting to deny my feelings for him for the last two years. This beautiful and innocent guy had made his feelings known to me through his devotion time after time, and I'd rebuffed him. But now I knew for sure. I was in love with Damian. When he looked at me like that, with adoration in his eyes and a smile playing along his lips, my heart melted in my chest. He already wore my class ring on a chain around his neck, but I was imagining another ring, this one on his finger. He was too young for such a step. Hell, I was too young for such a step, but it was going to happen. I had no doubts. "I love you, Damian," I said. His eyes shot open wide, and he gasped, "I love you, too, Steven. I've been in love with you since the first day I saw you at swim practice." Tears came to his eyes. He sighed loudly and said, "Just fuck me now, Steve. The spanking, you playing with my butt, that declaration of love. I'm going to cum hands free any minute now, and I need you inside me when it happens!" I bent down to kiss him and said, "Yes, sir, my studling! If you need fucking, let me get to it!" I spent another minute stretching his hole, then lined up my cock and pushed it inside him, slowly, enjoying every sensation. It was the quickest fuck I'd ever experienced. I'd barely thrust inside him a half dozen times when he started yelling. "I'M CUMMING! OH... MY... GOD... I'M CUMING NOW!" His cock exploded sending his first load flying through the air to land on his neck, the other five making a trail of ever diminishing size all the way down to his abs. His hole clamped down on my shaft like it was making out with my cock. I grabbed his hips and buried myself as deep inside him as I could. "TAKE MY LOAD, STUD. TAKE MY SPUNK INSIDE YOUR SEXY ASS!" When I withdrew, we didn't bother to clean up right away. We lay there in each other's arms, our breathing slowly returning to normal. We caressed one another gently and lovingly, and we kissed, not with the urgent passion of need, but the soft passion of post-coital bliss. "Did you mean it, Steve? Did you mean it when you said you loved me, or was it just something you said in the heat of passion?" I turned his chin so I could look directly into his eyes. "I meant it, Damian. I'm sorry that I didn't say it earlier. And I'm sorry that I allowed an idle dream to stand in the way of what I had in front of me. You're the one. I more or less stopped hooking up with other guys once we started having sex. Sure, I did it a couple of times to convince myself that I wasn't in love with you, but all I was doing was fooling myself." This was too beautiful a moment for me to want to go into detail about my indiscretions. I'd been with the lifeguard at the lake the summer before last, and I'd been with Elliot Park, the church organist. The last time had been earlier this summer. He was only twenty-five years old, and we'd been having sex since for three years, ever since he'd started. But I was done with that now. Damian sighed, "I'm so glad, Steven. I... I've waited to hear you say those words for so long. I wish I could stay here in your arms forever and never get up." Of course, we couldn't stay there forever. We got up and took a shower. Then we got dressed and Damian had to go home to his parents. Kurt After football practice I hung around in the locker room until everyone else was gone. When the coach left, he reminded me that I'd be able to get out the main doors, but not back inside since I didn't have a key. I already knew, of course. All the buildings were secured that way after 4:00 o'clock. Once I was sure I was alone, I pulled the douche and the bottle of saline I'd bought out of my bag. I didn't really want to do this. I knew that I was being unenlightened, but cleaning out my ass felt gay to me, and I was bi. If Steven were here, he'd tell me that I was making unnecessary distinctions, that there were girls he'd consider trying to have sex with and that didn't make him bi, that it was more of a mindset and a sexual identity than a firm rule. Still, I was going to let Mr. Williams play with my butt today. Last time we'd been together, he'd shoved a finger up my butt and then wiped shit on my face when it came out dirty. I didn't want to experience that again, or anything worse. Mr. Williams had never texted anything obviously incriminating, but he'd strongly implied that he was going to fuck my ass and then make me suck his dick afterward. I thought that I would die if his dick came out dirty. I had to get Dylan and me out of this situation. I didn't like to see that man touching Dylan. Dylan belonged to me, and no one was ever going to touch him again without my permission, not if my plan worked. I was so glad that Steven had made me learn all about anal douching when I first started talking about fucking Dylan. Maybe there was a plus side, though. Maybe, just maybe if it wasn't too bad, I'd start cleaning up before having sex with Dylan. And then maybe I could get Dylan to lick my ass. He seemed to love it when I ate his butt. Who was I kidding? If Dylan even suspected I was interested in it, he'd have his tongue in there as fast as I could drop my pants. Of course, I hadn't thought of it at all until Greg had asked me if Dylan had ever done it to me. He'd read about it online, but he'd been too afraid to ask his girlfriend to do it for him. But I had noticed that Greg seemed very interested in Dylan ever since I'd allowed him to fuck my boy. I knew that he was hinting that he wanted me to share my little slave boy with him again. Truth was that I liked it when I saw Greg fucking Dylan, knowing that I was in control of the encounter. Once my boy was healed, I'd have to have both of them stay over again. I filled the bulb with saline and then opened a packet of lube. Damn! My fingers were cold and trembling. I tried to ignore my jittery nerves and apply lube to the tip of the bulb. It didn't look too scary. No, the scary part was when I lubed up my finger and touched it to my asshole. It clenched tight, anxious to prevent the intrusion, but I persevered. The feeling of my slippery finger sliding around my anus sent a shiver through my body and made my cock twitch. I pressed a little harder and the tip of my finger pushed past the anal ring. I didn't hate it. I made sure to use enough lube to make my ass super slippery, probably more slippery than I needed. Then I knelt down with my ass in the air and pushed the nozzle inside me. I squeezed the saline into my ass. There was pressure, but not much. Steven had told me once that too much pressure meant you had used too much water. So far, so good. I stood up and did some twists and stretches. When the need to expel the liquid grew too great to contain, I sat on the toilet and voided my bowels. I repeated the process four times before I was satisfied that I was clean. Then I cleaned the bulb and put it away. I decided to put a couple packs of lube up my ass before getting dressed. I put on a pair of sweat shorts and a tee shirt. No need to make this more complicated than it had to be. I left my underwear in my bag. I had just one more text to make before heading over to Mr. William's house. The drive was short, but uncomfortable. I could feel my ass leaking lube into my shorts the entire way. He lived in a small farmhouse with a long lane. I was just outside of town. I pulled up to the side of the house to park next to his car and I saw him coming toward me. He has a smug expression on his homely face. "Just leave your cellphone in the car, boy. My wife and kids won't be back for two hours, so you can leave your clothes there as well." So much for plan A, or rather the first part of my plan. I looked around. We were far enough back from the road that no one would see me, so I stepped out of the car and stripped off my clothes. Mr. Williams was smirking at me. "Throw me the keys, boy." I tossed the keys in his direction. He caught them handily and put them in his pocket. Then he walked over to me and grabbed my dick. I wasn't aroused, but I was five or six inches long when soft. Mr. Williams leered at me and said, "You are one fine looking buck. But we have to establish the rules for your first visit to my house. While you are here, you are to be respectful and obedient. You will call me `sir' at all times, and I had better never hear the word `no' come out of your mouth. Do you understand me, boy?" "Yes, sir," I said. He patted my face roughly with the hand that wasn't holding my dick. "And you'd better not hesitate. If I give you an order, I expect you to obey it immediately, boy. Do you understand this rule, boy?" It was better to just agree and get it over with, so I replied, "Yes, sir." His constant use of the word "boy" struck me as more racist than playful. Whenever I used that word when talking to Dylan, I said it with a tone of affection in my voice. He let go of my dick and said, "Get down on all fours and crawl in front of me, boy." He pointed toward the door to his back porch, and I started crawling. He said, "Spread your knees apart so I can see your nuts swinging while you crawl, boy." It seemed that Mr. Williams was planning on humiliating before fucking me. I had been raised to be proud of my heritage. I wanted to try and maintain a little dignity, but I had no time for even performative resistance. I needed both of us to be inside the house as soon as possible if my plan was going to work. I crawled up to the door and waited for him to open it. Then crawled into the house. I knew that this was going to be worse than I feared when I saw the confederate battle flag hanging on the wall. Mr. Williams strode into the room and picked up a yardstick. He swung it through the air a few times. Then he looked down at me and sneered. "You'd better get that dick of yours hard and keep it hard. If it goes limp, I'll beat it with this stick. And if you cum without permission, I'll beat it with this stick. Now get to stroking!" My ears were burning with anger, but I'd resolved to see this through long enough for the plan to unfold. The fact that he wasn't really in control almost made me smile. I was in control. At any time, I could get up and beat the ever-loving shit out of him and he was too weak to stop me. I was choosing to participate in this sick fantasy of his. It was my decision to save Dylan that had me kneeling here, that and my certain knowledge of what was to come. I took hold of my cock and started to stroke it, but nothing was happening. This whole situation was as unsexy as it could be. He swung that stick and hit me on the shoulder. "If you can't get that nigger cock of yours to work, I'll hit it with this stick until you do get hard, boy!" I stared off into the distance and thought of Dylan, his skin like fresh cream, his pouty lips so damnably kissable, the feel of his smooth thighs wrapped around my waist, the way his little hole winked at me and how it clamped so tight on my cock... hell, the way it tasted on my tongue. Picturing Dylan worked wonders. My dick came to life, and I was able to stroke it to full erection. Mr. Williams tapped my cock with his yardstick. "This isn't a human dick. It belongs on a donkey, boy." I didn't say anything, I just stroked my cock in silence. When he didn't get a rise out of me, he barked, "Look at me, boy, open your mouth and keep it open." His face betrayed a host of emotions. Anger, fear, disgust, and envy were chief among them. I held my mouth open, and he spat inside it. He stared at me as if daring me to say or do anything except obey him. I steeled my spine and stared back at him impassively, while he spat in my mouth over and over again. I knew he was trying to demean me, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much it hurt inside. I had to endure it, and I had to keep him distracted. It was essential to my plan, the only way I was going to get us free of him. I hoped everything was going to work out as planned, but I had no way of knowing yet. "Okay, boy, you can swallow that spit now," Mr. Williams said with a grin, like he was expecting me to thank him for it. I kept my eyes locked defiantly on his. In order for this to work, I needed to get him to become more extreme. And he did. Too bad I couldn't record any audio since my phone was in my car. I just hoped the other parts of the plan were working. "Look at you, down on your knees where you belong. I'm glad your little faggot boyfriend isn't here tonight. It gives me a chance to put you through your paces, boy. And if you keep putting your fucking nigger dick in that little white boy, it's just going to get worse for you." Damn, I wished that I was getting this on audio! He pulled his dick out of his pants and slapped my face with it. It was humiliating, but I managed to keep my cool by imagining what would happen if it were my cock slapping his face. I'd knock him on his ass. His dick was what I'd come to realize was average. When I first started showering with the team at school, I thought everyone else had a tiny dick. No, mine was just big... really big. The way Mr. Williams kept staring at it, I was sure that he felt small and inadequate. "Open your mouth, boy," he demanded angrily. When I did, he placed the head of his dick just outside my mouth. "Don't spill a drop, boy." Then he started pissing. It was bitter and it was the worst thing I had ever tasted. I gagged and coughed it up all over my chest. It rolled off my body and flowed onto the floor. Instead of getting angrier, Mr. Williams was smiling. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but I swore never to ask Dylan to drink my piss again. Mr. Williams pissed all over my face and made a mess on the floor. He wiped the last few drops in my hair. My anger was getting the better of me, but I forced it down inside me where he couldn't see it. His voice boomed, "Get down there and slurp up that piss with your tongue, boy." "Yes, sir," I said without emotion. I still had my anger and indignation in check. As I bent down and licked up the mess on the hardwood floors, I had to work hard to suppress my urge to gag and vomit. As if licking his piss off the none too clean floor wasn't torture enough, he swung that yardstick through the air, and it struck my ass with a resounding "THWAP"! I hadn't expected it, so it threw me off balance. I fell forward into the puddle of piss. Mr. Williams continued to strike my ass and the backs of my thighs with that stick until I'd slurped up every disgusting drop. When I finished, he hit me so hard on the back with that yardstick that it broke. "Damn, boy! You've got a strong back. Now get yourself up and bend over the arm of that recliner over there. I'm going to fuck your black ass, just like you fuck that little faggot." He was obsessed with Dylan. I couldn't help but chuckle inside. That was the one thing the two of us had in common. And I had the satisfaction of knowing that Dylan had chosen me, not him. The only reason that he'd allowed this man to defile him was to protect the two of us. And that was the reason I was allowing this fucking rapist to degrade me this way. He didn't worry about foreplay or preparing my ass, he just pressed his cock against my hole and forced his way inside in one fell swoop. My stoicism gave way to a mighty scream. "That's right, boy! Scream out loud just like you make that sweet little faggot scream." I didn't disappoint him. Sharp pain shot through my ass and all the way up my spine. I screamed again as he pulled almost all the way out and then thrust back inside. It hurt like hell, but it also served to make him let down his guard, to think he was winning when he was really laying the foundation for his own destruction. He started ranting, punctuating every sentence with another painful thrust. "That's right. Cry you bitch! You may wonder why I was gentle with your faggot boyfriend, but I'm treating you like the piece of shit you are. It's simple. Dylan can't help being a faggot. He comes from a family of faggots. His own faggot daddy is probably fucking him at home as we speak. I've seen the pictures that hypocrite, Pastor Morgan, has hidden on his computer!" All concern for myself vanished and was replaced with fear for Dylan. What did Mr. Williams mean about a family of faggots? Did he mean the pastor? Was pastor Morgan abusing Dylan? Were there pictures that needed to be destroyed? I almost jumped up and threw him off me prematurely, the plan be damned. I wanted nothing more than to beat the truth out of him. But I caught sight of a shadow outside the window that reassured me; it brought me back to my senses. I had to follow this thing through to its conclusion - and Mr. Edgar Williams wasn't going to like that conclusion one bit. "Goddamn! Your black ass is tighter than fuck. I could almost believe that you weren't spreading your legs for the whole damn football team." I knew he was just trying to get under my skin, and it was almost working. I just kept asking myself, what would Steve do. The answer was simple. He'd follow his plan to its conclusion and then beat the shit out of the racist mother fucker later. I had to be like Steve. I had to remain calm and make him lose control, to cross a line he couldn't explain. "Who are you calling a faggot, Edgar? You're the one who can't get laid without blackmailing teenagers. I've seen the way you look at the boys." I was just throwing shit against the wall to see what would stick. And that last accusation struck a nerve. I wondered what he had on his computer. He grabbed my neck with both hands and started digging his fingers into my throat. Because of the odd angle, he couldn't really choke me. I was still able to speak. "Of course, with a little peewee like yours, they'd hardly feel it, pencil dick." He punched me hard in the side a couple times. I hoped we had enough on him by now. I stood up abruptly and knocked him on his ass. "Get up, you pathetic pedophile! Get up, so I can kick your ass from one side of this house to the other! You made your first mistake when you dared to lay one perverted finger on Dylan. And tonight, you just made your last mistake." He jumped up and said, "Don't forget the video I have of you and the pastor's son! I can still release it. How do you think Pastor Morgan will react when he sees a fucking nigger, the son of a man he fucking hates, egging on his little faggot son while he jizzed all over the altar?" Dylan and I hadn't gotten any semen on the altar. It had all landed safely on Dylan's thin chest. I'd been stupid to have orchestrated the whole scenario, but I felt that I'd needed one last test of Dylan's obedience, his willingness to be my slave. Of course, I'd been a fool. I should never have questioned Dylan's devotion to me, just my fitness to be a responsible master for him. Greg came into the room pointing his phone at Mr. Williams. His expression was grim, and his tone was severe. "I got it on video, Kurt. We can make sure that this sick son-of-a-bitch goes to jail for a long time." Mr. William's made a lunge for Greg, but I grabbed him by the shirt and punched him in the face. "That's for being a fucking racist!" I punched him again, spraying blood all over both of us. "And that's for putting your filthy hands on Dylan." I changed targets and punched him in the stomach with all my strength, causing him to double over. "And that's for even thinking about putting your filthy hands on him again." "STOP!" he cried out. "I give up. I'll leave you two alone." "Damn right you will. Now delete the video from your phone." I demanded. He grabbed his phone and showed me the video he'd been using to blackmail us. Then he deleted it. While I went to get dressed, Greg walked over to him and held up his own phone. "My video goes straight to the cloud. I'm sure that you thought of that as well. Let me see your phone." Mr. Williams unlocked his phone and handed it over. Greg looked through the apps until he found what he was looking for. He set everything to be deleted, then he pocketed it. "I'll drop this along the side of the road so you should be able to find it. I don't want you to be able to cancel the deletion before it's done." I was dressed, but still moving tenderly from the beating Mr. Williams had given me with that yardstick. I asked Greg, "Are we done?" He shook his head. "Not yet. This sick fuck is going to show me all the computers in the house." Reluctantly, Mr. Williams showed us his laptop and the desktop shared by his kids. Greg made him log into them as an administrator, then he changed all the passwords so that only he knew them. He made sure the google drive was deleting all the files, then he found every video file on both computers and deleted them as well. Finally, he looked at Mr. Williams and smiled. "I'll send you the new passwords once all the files are deleted, and you prove to me that you deleted any copies on the church server." The defeated man sighed dejectedly. "I'll do it first thing in the morning." "Good," I said. I was really glad I'd brought Greg into this with me. He knew computers really well, better than me for sure. It had been embarrassing knowing that he was seeing the whole humiliating show, but my only other option had been Steve. And I would have had to admit to him how badly I had screwed this situation up. I couldn't face that right now. For some reason it was easier to admit to Greg that I was an idiot than to admit it to Steve � and Dad could never know! He'd be angry, really angry, and worse he'd be disappointed. We drove back to Greg's place. He had the whole basement to himself, and I was able to enter through the side door and take a shower without his parents seeing me. We made sure to document all the injuries Mr. Williams had inflicted before I got dressed and left. Greg put a hand on my arm. "Hey man, this whole thing was fucked up. But I don't want you to worry about me. I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone. A secret between bros is sacred." I gave him a quick side hug. "I know I can count on you, Greg. I'm just happy that we've put an end to this. Once Edgar deletes the files from the church servers, Dylan and I will never have to worry about the threat of that stupid video again." Craig Morgan The lawyers for Kieran's trust had sent me another registered letter saying that I had no access to Kieran's trust. They hadn't said anything threatening, but I suspected from the tone that they were going to report me. I was fairly sure I hadn't actually broken any laws. I had been Kieran's legal guardian, and no one could prove that I hadn't spent that money on him. Still, I wasn't an expert on the law. The computer was finally finished. I'd backed up the entire server onto the Terabyte drive I'd purchased. Then I tossed the janitor's keys onto the desk in the tech office and left the door unlocked. Let the janitor take the blame when they were found. Donny and three of his partners in crime were in the parking lot. I couldn't count on my oldest son for much, but this was theft � and that was something he knew a lot about. "Is everything open and the alarm off?" he asked with a smirk that made me want to punch him in the face. I couldn't hide my distaste for my oldest son and the way he'd chosen to live. "Yes. Make sure you leave the janitor's keys on the desk where the police can find them. Take all the computers, the cameras, and the AV equipment. Just make sure it gets sold far away from here. I don't want it traced back to us," I replied curtly. He smirked at me and said, "No problem, Dad. We're going to take everything else of value before we trash the place too. But I'm sure your insurance will cover it." I'd had enough of his disrespectful tone. I snapped, "Thief." He shook his head. "Lying hypocrite! Pedophile! Child abuser! We can keep this shit up all night. You're stealing from your own church, and you have the nerve to look down on me. Let me tell you something, asshole. You... are... no... better... than... me." He punctuated each of his words by poking his finger in my chest. He jabbed me in the chest one more time and added, "Tommy's going to stay with me for a while longer, so you don't have to worry about getting your pathetic ass kicked by a fifteen-year-old again. He needs a real man as a role model, not a sad loser who never had the courage to take what he wanted." He leaned closer to me and said, "If I had wanted Cory as badly as you did, I would have made sure I had him. I wouldn't have lost him to another man and spent the last dozen years crying my eyes out over him." Then he gave me a malicious smirk. "He's still fine, you know even though he's eleven years older than me, I may just go fuck him myself. Or maybe I'll fuck Dylan instead, something you've wanted since he turned twelve but never had the balls to do. Fuck, Dad, you'd have been a pedophile, but at least I could have respected you for being a man instead of a sad, pathetic, never-has-been who's going to live his whole life as a coward." He and his friends laughed at me as they went into the church. If I didn't need them, I'd leave an anonymous tip with the police. Let them laugh, but Donny was right. I really wasn't any better than them, was I? And I had been a coward. Donny was right in one thing. I had to put my fear away. I wanted Cory and I planned to take him, at least once. Donny and his fellow thieves would give me an equal share of their profits, and the church would collect a payment from the insurance company for the stolen AV equipment and Roger Fucking Groth would get off my back about the finances. I hated him almost as much as he hated me. I'd lost Cory to him twelve years ago. And I'd never forgive him for that. I'd laid all the groundwork for Cory to move in with me and Bethany. His room would have been just up the hall from mine, and I would have visited him every night when she was asleep. I'd have had my marriage, my respectability... and I would have also had Cory. Then everything had blown up. Cory had been tossed out on the street before I could come up with another plan to claim him. It took me a while to find an apartment I could afford. I was going to put Cory in that apartment. He would have been so grateful to me that he would have stopped arguing and pretending that he didn't want me, that he didn't crave my touch as much as I craved his. I'd have had him all to myself. I'd have kept him in that apartment and not let him out. If he resisted, I would have kept him there naked, safe, and protected, always ready for me to show up and make love to him. I'd have had him all to myself, but then Roger Fucking Groth had swooped in and stolen him away from me. I still saw Cory sometimes around town. I couldn't get him out of my mind. And now I was sure that Roger was fucking both him and son. Those two beautiful faggots looked so much alike, who wouldn't fantasize about making both of them his? I sighed and started the car. I wanted to be home just in case someone saw the panel van outside the church and called the cops. I'd get someone who knew computers to help me find and organize all the files. Not Edgar Williams. I didn't trust him. I was sure he was stealing money from the church anyway. If there was something incriminating that he'd hidden on this drive, I'd find it. Roger I'd had to pay Edgar Williams $1000 to get him to make a copy of all the church's hidden financial records. And then he'd offered me Craig's hidden files for another $5000. I'd been reluctant to give him that much money. His lack of morals and ethics had argued against it. But it had been worth it. I flicked through the images from Craig's personal laptop. Edgar had downloaded them when he installed the latest security software on his boss's machine. There were pictures of several boys from the church. None of them were pornographic, but they were... titillating and would be hard for him to explain. There were pictures of the underage redhead boy in Indianapolis, the one he paid for sex. The pictures were... well they were hot. The boy was very pretty. He did look a lot like Kieran and Kieran's father. And Roger had been stupid enough to take pictures of the two of them in bed together, their naked bodies pressed together in the selfies. Most damning of all, there were pictures of Dylan. I knew Dylan so I knew he was probably twelve or thirteen in the nude shots, but he looked younger. I had him. I just had to find the perfect time to make use of them to bring him down. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 120 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps, six years her senior and the manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He is of average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscles, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah. ● Josephine "Josie" Kurtz. A doctor who's in a relationship with Phyllis MacDonald. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father's. He stands 6 feet tall and weighs 175 pounds. He is muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness. ● Patrick O'Rourke. A 14-year-old sophomore who turns 15 before the end of September. He's gay and has a mysterious boyfriend who lives out of town. Tommy Morgan decides to turn him into his bitch, but Patty is more than willing to play. ● Phyllis MacDonald. A lawyer and friend of Roger Groth. She handles a lot of civil rights cases, including LGBTQIA+ cases. She's in a relationship with Josie Kurtz. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
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Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 18 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded) ● Wishcraft (Concluded) ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 18 Tommy It was Saturday, and I was spending the night at Patty O'Rourke's house. I'd always been a little jealous of him and his family. His dad was a lawyer and his mom was a manager of some kind at the bank. They had more money than anyone I knew, maybe even more than the Groths. They lived in a house that I'd always thought looked like a castle. It had an octagonal thing on the front that looked like a tower. It even had its own pointed roof, separate from the rest of the three story red brick house. It had a viney plant growing up the front of the tower and a broad porch that wrapped around the front of the house and the side opposite the tower. Their garage was big enough to hold four cars. All that space and there were only five of them: Patty, his older brother Ian, his parents, and his grandmother. They didn't even clean their own house. They had a maid who lived on the third floor. I knew that Dad hated the O'Rourkes. He hated them because they had money. He hated them because they were Catholic. And he hated them because Patty's mother, Helen, had once been a member of his church before converting and marrying Charles O'Rourke. She'd called my dad a hateful bigot once in the supermarket in front of everyone and she'd convinced some of her friends to follow her to the Catholic church she attended. And with her and her friends gone, the Groths were the only wealthy members left in his congregation. When Patty and I had arrived at his house, he'd made me a ham and cheese sandwich for a snack and brought me cold coke. He'd grabbed a small salad with chicken breast on it and a glass of water with a lemon slice for himself. "You don't eat much, do you?" I asked. He leaned forward and whispered quietly, "My master wants me to eat a bottom diet. Lots of leafy greens, not too much fat or sugar. It makes it easier for me to keep myself clean." "Does this master of yours fuck you?" I asked. He grimaced. "Shh. You have to whisper. I don't think my parents know. I mean, they know that I'm gay. It's hard to hide that, but I don't think they'd be happy to know that my master has been fucking me for four years." Shit! I thought. This boy had gotten fucked for the first time when he was only ten years old. I wondered again who this master of his was. It was completely fucked up, in my mind, for someone to be doing sex things with a kid that young... unless it was another kid, I suppose. I was disturbed, but also weirdly impressed at the same time. Sex is everything to me, so why not get into it as soon as possible?! Patty swallowed a mouthful of salad and then continued in the same whisper. "Of course, he lives out of town now, so the only action my butt sees is... my dildo." He'd mouthed the last two words instead of saying them aloud. And he waggled his eyebrows when he did. He was so damned cute. I couldn't help but smile at him. He scooted his chair over and put his hand on my thigh while he ate. Without me even asking he said, "If my master says it's okay, I'll let you fuck me tonight. I know how to make you feel good." We finished our snack and then went upstairs to his room. I hadn't been up there for a few years, not since we'd stopped hanging out together. I looked around and grew jealous again. He had a full size bed instead of a twin like mine, a large shelf unit that had twenty five cubed sections in it, some of which had drawers, others doors, and the remainder were filled with books and toys that he'd obviously decided to keep, mostly Lego models that he'd left assembled. He had the Millennium Falcon and the Imperial Walker. Both of those sets cost hundreds of dollars. He also had a television with a Nintendo, an Xbox, and a PlayStation hooked up to it. His desk had a copy of every text book we were using this year in school, and an amazing Alienware laptop. This was what being rich was like. Having anything and everything you could ever wish for. Not having to put up with hand-me-downs or thrift store finds. Not having to convince yourself that going without and feeling ignored were building character and preparing you for the real world. The only thing we had was a more modern house than the O'Rourke's, but his room was so much bigger than mine even though his house was older. He pulled me over to the bean bag chairs in front of the television. "Do you want to watch a movie or play video games?" What I wanted was to throw him down on the floor and fuck him hard until my jealousy went away, but I didn't want to attract any attention in the middle of the day. I decided on video games. We played Call of Duty together for a while until he died in the game, then he switched it over so I could play online and he scooted over between my legs and looked up at me. "Can I please suck your cock, sir?" "Here? Isn't someone home?" I asked. He shrugged. "Only grandma and Mrs. Knowles, our housekeeper, are home, and no one comes in my room without knocking and waiting for me to give them permission. Mom and Dad say that privacy is important. Well, Mrs. Knowles comes in sometimes, but she doesn't care." He looked up into my eyes and smiled. "She's seen me sucking dick before. She just tells me not to make a mess." What the fuck! This was some weird ass shit he was saying. His housekeeper had caught him sucking dick in this room and she kept it a secret? I wondered if his parents knew. My mind was racing with this new information. I didn't really pay attention to Patty until the third time he said, "Please, sir." I shook my head. "Sure, Patty. Go ahead and suck my dick." He lay down flat on the floor in front of me and pulled my pants and underwear down. I'd been hard since Patty and I had gotten here, so my cock sprang to attention immediately. Now that we weren't rushed in the school bathroom, he took his time, kissing up and down my shaft, then licking it for several wonderful minutes. "I love your cock, sir. It's really big and even thicker for its length than most guys," he said. Then he wrapped his lips around it and swallowed the whole thing without choking. His eyes were saying that he really enjoyed what he was doing. He started humming, sending the most amazing waves of intense pleasure vibrating through my cock. I lay back and started a new game while his talented mouth sent shivers through my body. His attention never wavered, which is more than I could say for my game playing. I kept making stupid mistakes and my character kept getting hit by enemy fire. And that song he was singing was running through my mind. I knew the tune, but I couldn't place it. I should have felt guilty playing a video game while Patty was sucking my dick, but it had been his idea and he was bobbing his head in time to the music and playing with my heavy balls while he focused all his attention on the job at hand. When I looked down at him, his eyes sparkled up at me like he was enjoying himself even more than I was. The warm wetness of his mouth, the feeling of his tongue teasing the head of my cock and rubbing the sensitive underside of my frenulum made my dick tingle like electricity was running through it. I tossed the video game controller to one side and leaned back in the beanbag. My on screen character was getting riddled with bullets, but I didn't care. My cock exploded and sprayed the back of Patty's throat with load after load of my spunk, and that boy swallowed it all. When I was spent, he sucked even harder so he could get the last drops out. Then he pulled off my cock and kissed it on the head. He stared up at me and said, "Thank you, sir, for giving me your cum. You taste so manly and so strong. I look forward to the next time you let me suck your cock." I couldn't believe this guy. He not only knew how to suck cock even better than Dylan, but he made me feel good just for letting him suck my cock. It was like I was the one doing him a favor. If I were gay, I think I'd be in love with this boy. I pulled him up next to me and held him in my arms while he snuggled against me, pressing his face into my armpit. We lay like that, taking occasional breaks to kiss, until Mrs. Knowles knocked to announce dinner. Dinner with the O'Rourkes was different from Dinner at my house. First, everyone smiled and said hello. Mr. O'Rourke gave me a firm handshake and said, "We're pleased that you're joining us tonight, Tommy. I know that you and Patrick will have a good time." If only he knew how good a time we were going to have! I thought. I replied, "Thank you, Mr. O'Rourke. I'm looking forward to it." Mrs. O'Rourke didn't shake my hand. She pulled me into a soft motherly embrace, or at least what I had always imagined one would feel like. My mother was bonier than Mrs. O'Rourke, and she hadn't hugged me since I was little. Even then, her arms had never felt this comforting. "I'm glad to see that you and Patty are getting along again." She sounded like she meant it. Mr. O'Rourke began dinner with a prayer, but, unlike my dad, he didn't sound like he was preaching or chanting it. "We thank you, Lord, for the food before us, for those who work so hard to grow it, for our family and friends, especially for bringing Tommy and Patrick back together again. Amen" He gave me a wink when he said that last phrase. "I hope I didn't embarrass you, Tommy. But you and Patrick used to be close and then you drew apart. He's been talking about this sleepover for the last couple of days and I wanted to let you know how happy we are that you're becoming friends again." He squeezed Patty's shoulder when he said that. And then enigmatically he added, "Most of Patrick's friends are like him. School can be a tough place for sensitive and artistic boys. I'm glad he has a friend like you there." I'd heard more genuinely supportive things directed toward me this evening than I had in years from my own parents. And what did he mean by that last part? Images flashed in my mind of Patty being slammed into lockers, images of him eating alone in the cafeteria, his friends all in the other lunch group, the look on his face when I'd first sat down next to him, the tears that had come to his eyes when he thought I was going to hurt him in the bathroom. It occurred to me that Mr. O'Rourke was asking me to protect his son at school. Did he know that Patty was a fag and that he was targeted by bullies? I'd already decided to protect Dylan. Now Patty belonged to me as well. There was no way I was going to let him get hurt. What the fuck? Was I becoming The Fag Protector? Would people think I was one too? Then I gave an inward chuckle. No, they wouldn't. And even if they dared, I'd already put my dad on his ass. I wasn't really afraid of them. I was big for my age, and Donny had been teaching me to box since I was little. I put my arm around Patty's shoulders and looked directly into Mr. O'Rourke's eyes. "Don't worry. Patty is my friend and I take care of what's mine." It was Mrs. O'Rourke who spoke next. She was smiling, but she had a dangerous glint in her eye, like she was fiercer than her short stature and motherly appearance would suggest. "I'm so glad to hear that, Tommy. Patty has had a hard time this year now that Ian and Lucas have gone to college." Ian was Patty's older brother and Lucas was the son of the housekeeper, Mrs. Knowles. He'd lived with his mother in the apartment over the garage for as long as I'd known them. He was a year older than Ian, but he waited a year to go to college so they could go together. Ian was on the football team and no one had messed with Patty while he was still at the school. She paused, like she was unsure whether to say more, but then she added, "And I've heard through the grapevine that you did a good job protecting your brother Dylan from his worst bully." Her smile told me that she knew what I'd done. Furthermore, she knew how my dad treated Dylan. Did everyone in town know? Fuck! If they knew, if all the adults in town knew, why didn't anyone do anything about it? Why did it have to wait for me, a fifteen year old, to put a stop to it? I fumed inside for a while but managed to keep smiling on the outside. Thankfully, the rest of dinner was less serious. Conversation was lighter. It centered on amusing things that had happened at work for both Mr. and Mrs. O'Rourke. Neither of them sneered or laughed at the misfortune of others. They just laughed about little things. Mrs. O'Rourke told a story about her boss at the bank wearing a pair of mismatched socks and suddenly realizing it during a meeting, getting distracted and messing up the serious talking to he was trying to give the tellers. And Mr. O'Rourke recalled events about how the opposing counsel in court had accidentally argued against his own client and then had to ask the judge to strike his own statements from the record. Apparently there was no objection and everyone in the courtroom had laughed, but the lawyer was able to go back and make his proper argument. After dinner, Mr. O'Rourke pulled me aside and said, "We're going to leave you two alone for the rest of the night to do whatever you boys get up to when we're not around. But Tommy... hm... you have a bit of a reputation for being unkind to boys who are different. It sounds to me like you're turning a new leaf. Patrick isn't like me. I was the star quarterback when I was in high school, and I played at college as well, although I was never the starter on the team. But, no matter how different he may be, I love him very much and I would not want you to be the guy who hurt him in any way." There was no way I could take that as anything but a threat. He'd never raised his voice, but I took him very seriously. He smiled and patted my back. "That's why I'm glad that you're Patty's friend again. I can't be there at school to protect him." I climbed the stairs to join Patty in his room. He was wearing a bathrobe with fox ears on the hood that came down to the middle of his thighs. He was pretty cute, with his red-brown hair hanging in waves down to his collar, and his brown eyes. His mouth was kind of small for his face, especially considering what he could fit in there, and his chin came to a point. He grabbed a toilet bag and said, "I want to go get cleaned up for later. Why don't you play video games or something until I get back." I lifted his robe up in the back so I could grab his butt. I ran one index finger along his crack. "Shave your crack while you're in there." He opened the toilet bag and held up two tubes of Nads hair remover, one specifically marked for the genitals. "You sound like... um... my boyfriend. He sent these to me and gave me the same orders!" "I would love to meet this guy," I said with a smile. He grinned ear back at me. "You're going to. Well, you're going to meet him online. He won't let you fuck me unless he talks to you first." I kissed him. I don't know why I did. He was supposed to be my little bitch. He was supposed to suck my dick, get fucked and that was it. I was kissing him and getting all lovey-dovey. It made me feel gay, like Patty was my boyfriend instead of just a boy I was using to get off. I almost wanted to feel angry or disgusted, but when he flashed me that happy smile of his, I kissed him again. And then again. And... about five minutes later, I finally swatted his ass again and said, "Go clean your ass and get rid of that hair. And then I may just decide to play with your ass a little bit before I fuck it." He pulled his robe closed and put a loose tie in his belt. Then he almost ran out of the room to get to the shower. I threw myself down on Patty's bed and adjusted my cock in my jeans. I wasn't sure what was going on. First it was Dylan. I'd kissed him and cuddled him after sex. And now I'd kissed and cuddled Patty even before fucking him. I wasn't gay! Or was I? Donny had said it was possible that I was gay. And he didn't make it sound like it was such a bad thing. In theory, I'd always been straight, but I'd never actually been with a girl. Looking at tits got me hard, but I was a fifteen year old and everything got me hard. The thing was, looking at girl's asses didn't get me as hard as looking at Dylan's or Patty's. The big muscular guys on the football team or the basketball team did nothing for me. It was just the little pretty guys. Did I get hard when Jamie knelt in front of me naked and sucked my cock? Hell, yes, I did! But looking at Patty in his shorts... or in that ridiculous robe with the fox ears made me spring instant wood. Was I bi, like Donny? Maybe. I'd hated fags all my life because they were weak, but I wasn't weak. I was big and strong for my age, and I knew how to protect myself. Maybe it wasn't so bad that boys like Dylan and Patty were weak. Maybe they just needed guys like me to protect them. Don't guys protect their women? How was this different? I was still trying to figure it out when Patty returned. He shut the door and crawled onto the bed. He straddled my crotch and rubbed his ass back and forth over my erection. Then he took hold of the hem of my tee shirt and pulled it up, exposing my belly. I resisted at first because I was embarrassed. I mean, I knew that I was thick around the middle and I also knew that it was natural for me. I was built like my grandpa Lundgren, and like my uncle Paul, Mom's older brother. Patty was insistent however and pushed my tee shirt up farther, bending down to kiss my belly. I was surprised that his little cock was as hard as a steel rod. It was like he didn't care that I had a bit of a gut and that my body was rectangular, not vee shaped like Kurt or thin but muscular like Donny. I wanted to ask him about it. I'd seen him staring at the football players. How could he be excited by me? Patty pressed his face between my pecs and his cock against my belly. "When we used to be close I kind of had a crush on you, Tommy. It hurt me a lot when you stopped talking to me at school." I brushed that hood with the fox ears off his head and stroked his hair. "I didn't know you had a crush on me. Why? We were just kids." He wrapped his arms around me and said, "You were my best friend. Everyone else made fun of me because my parents have money and I wasn't good at sports." That surprised me. I hadn't really thought of him as my best friend. He was just a kid who used to follow me around and... Shit I felt guilty all of a sudden... he was a guy who shared his lunch with me and gave me comic books and always bought me the best birthday presents. "I used to look up to my dad, before I realized how much of an asshole he is, and he hates your dad. I think it's because he's jealous. Oh, and he hates Catholics. I think he came between us." I was lying. I'd gotten tired of him because he was such a teacher's pet... and he was a fag. I wanted to hang out with cooler kids. But it wasn't a complete lie. My dad did hate Patty's parents. I blurted out, "I saw you staring at Kurt and Greg in the cafeteria. I know I'm strong, but I'm not built like those guys." He looked up at me and shook his head. "I wasn't looking at Kurt or Greg. Quarterbacks and wide receivers don't do it for me. They look like gym bros. I was looking at Lenny and Scott. I like big burly guys. When you're a senior you'll be like that." Damn! Little Patty liked linebackers. No wonder he didn't mind my thickness. Those guys were built like me, just bigger. An alarm sounded on Patty's laptop. He jumped up and said, "We need to login to the videochat in five minutes." Because there weren't two chairs for the desk, Patty put the laptop in front of the cabinet with the video game players on it and then we settled on the same beanbag chair. It wasn't until the videochat began when I realized that he was obviously naked under that robe. When the chat began, I was a little startled to see Patty's brother Ian and his best friend Lucas Knowles. They chatted for a little while, catching up on family matters, while I just sat there next to Patty. I was bored because I had no idea who and what they were talking about. But in about ten minutes, the conversation turned to me. Lucas looked at his cell phone and then said, "Mom says that she promised to keep an eye on you two so Charles and Helen can go to a friend's house over in Evansville. They're leaving now," he said. Ian looked into the camera with a serious expression on his face. "So, you've been getting my baby brother to suck your dick, Tommy." Lying would have done no good. I sat up straighter and shrugged. "I'm not going to deny it. He's a cute guy and he's willing." Ian looked a lot like his brother, but he was taller and had broader shoulders than Patty ever would given his slight build. Lucas Knowles was a year older, much broader across the shoulders than Ian, with blond hair, a rectangular body, and a square jaw. I knew both of them, of course. I'd known them at school and I knew them from years ago when I used to spend time at the O'Rourke's house. It was Lucas who spoke next. "Patty belongs to me. He shouldn't have let you use him without my permission, so he's going to have to be punished for that. But what about you? You touched my property." Fuck this guy! I thought. Who does he think he is? I gave him a half smile. "Look. I'm not interested in power games with you. I didn't know you had any sort of claim on Patty when I took him under my wing. And as far as Patty goes, he's a little fag. It's his nature to get on his knees around dominant guys. If you punish him for being who he is, you're not taking very good care of him. And, since you're not here to take care of his needs and protect him, you should be paying me to do it for you." Ian started laughing. "Damn, Tommy! You haven't changed a bit, you cocky little shit!" He turned to Lucas and said, "I told you that he wouldn't be easy to intimidate. He was stubborn as a kid and he is still stubborn as a freshman." Lucas started chuckling as well. "Okay. I am not going to pay you, but you are going to pay me. Not in cash, but you are going to watch over Patty. You are going to make sure that no one hurts him. You can use him, if that's what he wants, but you'd better not hurt him." Ian said, "Wait, wait, just wait a minute. If Patty gets out of line, you know, like he risks exposing himself to the assholes at school, you can spank him." Lucas pointed at the screen and wagged a finger. "Patty! Pay attention. You may not engage in risky behavior so Tommy will spank you. I'm sure he'll be happy to warm your ass if you ask him to." "Yes, Sir!" Patty replied. Then he undid the belt on his robe and climbed on my lap with it hanging loose, only held up by his arms through the sleeves. I didn't know what to think about this guy. Here, behind the doors of his bedroom, Patty turned into a complete sex pot. He must really trust that no one was going to come in and interrupt him. He was pressing his smooth, naked butt against me and running his hands under my shirt. Ian spoke again. "In all seriousness, you need to listen to me, both of you. Do not rub Mom and Dad's faces in the fact you're having sex. They'll ignore it if they can, but they won't like it. Not because they have a problem with Patty being gay, but because he's young. They have no idea what he gets up to." I gave Lucas and Ian a questioning look. "He's young, but he's not as young as when you two introduced him to cocksucking. You are the two who taught him, right?" Lucas shook his head. "No. We're the ones who found him sucking his friends' little dicks behind the classrooms at church. We had to take him in hand before he did something dangerous, like get exposed in front of the whole church." Patty gave me an innocent look and said, "I'm incorrigible!" I turned him over and smacked his ass three times in rapid succession. "And this is what I do to disobedient boys." "He'll do," Lucas said. We chatted about a few rules. They made a big deal out of condoms, but I didn't want to use one, so I told them I wasn't having sex with anyone else. They didn't need to know about Dylan, but I figured Dylan was being loyal to Kurt, so he was bound to be safe. Besides, I had to admit to myself that I may not be able to get my hands on Dylan for a while... Maybe not ever. I was comfortable at Donny's and I had no idea when Dylan was coming back to Mom and Dad's house. Ian and Lucas wanted to watch us fuck the first time, so Patty set everything up. He put his laptop on the desk and adjusted the webcam until it had a good view of the bed. Then he pulled the pillows down to the middle of the bed and covered them with a towel and put the bottle of lube on the mattress within easy reach. He shrugged the robe off and tossed it aside. "How do you want me, Sir? On my back, on my belly, or on my hands and knees?" I pulled my tee shirt off and then kicked off my pants. My hard cock was pressing against the front of my boxers. Only a single little button kept it from escaping its confines. I yanked them down and climbed on the bed to kneel next to him. Even with both of us on our knees on the mattress, he was small next to me. I grabbed him and pulled him tight against me, crushing his lips. He went limp in my arms, allowing me to squeeze him tighter. I bit his lip, hard enough to make him gasp, but not hard enough to leave a mark. "I'm going to fuck you on your back, so I can see your eyes when I shove my dick inside you." He moved my hand to his butt and batted his eyelashes at me. "Please play with my butt, Sir. You promised." I squeezed his ass and then ran a finger along his crack. I rubbed his little hole until he moaned. Then I pushed him back onto the mattress. "Roll over on your belly and hand me that lube," I demanded. He wasted no time following my orders. He positioned himself over the pillows so his ass was raised. It was round, soft, and smooth. It was... unbelievably sexy. What the fuck was I saying? I mean, I couldn't deny that on a skinny boy like Patty, a guy's round butt was just as exciting as a girl's. I'd seen Patty's butt when it was covered in his tight pants and, like Dylan, his ass was better looking even than the girls on the cheerleading team. Uncovered, it was... fucking amazing. I ran my hands over his ass, squeezing those soft mounds, and catching peeks of his pink hole whenever I pulled them apart. I bent down and kissed both his white cheeks, sliding my lips across his smooth skin. I hesitated, about to take a step that would be so fucking gay that there was no coming back from it. My breath was coming fast and I was sweating. I swallowed hard and then pulled his cheeks apart so I could plant a firm kiss right on that pretty pink pucker of his. I closed my eyes and stuck out my tongue and ran it along his crack. I'd wanted to do this with Dylan, but I'd been afraid to take that step. So many thoughts were rushing through my mind about how wrong this should be; sinful, evil, perverted, bad. But I'd done it now. I was an ass licker. But I'd watched a lot of porn. It was straight porn, but the guys in those stories would lick and kiss a pussy before fucking it. Patty whined, "That feels so good, Sir. Please... eat my pussy." My last shred of resistance melted. Patty called it his pussy, and in a way it was. I dove in and thrust my tongue against his hole. I'd been afraid of what I would taste, but there was none of the nastiness I'd feared. It shouldn't have surprised me. Dylan kept his ass clean, and Patty had just cleaned his for me... for me! Fuck it! If I was going to do it, I wasn't going to be a pussy about it. I chuckled inwardly at that. It was all about the pussy and I was all in. I paused and said, "It's not a pussy, Patty. It's your ass. You cleaned it up for me, and I'm going to eat it because it's mine and I can eat it if I want to." It was weird that this declaration made me feel less wishy-washy. I felt stronger and more masculine when I acknowledged that I wanted to do it and more or less demanded it as my right. And fuck pretending it was a pussy. Patty wasn't a girl. He was a cute little fag boy and he was the one I wanted to be with right now. I didn't care what anyone thought, especially that nagging voice inside me that I now recognized as my dad's. I wanted this boy. I was going to eat his ass. I was going to fuck him. And fuck anyone who had a problem with it. And if that made me gay, who the fuck cared. Not me. I pressed my face back into his crack and thrust my tongue inside him. He was warm and smooth, and his hole squeezed against my tongue. I swabbed the inside of his ass and made him squirm. I had no idea what I was doing, but every time he squealed, I knew I was doing something right, and I did it again. I was shocked when his hole stopped resisting me. It grew loose and just allowed me free rein like it had decided that it liked what I was doing. I sat back on my knees and grabbed the lube. My dick was painfully hard and it was already slimy from all the precum I'd been leaking, but it had to wait. I drizzled lube onto his hole and thrust my finger inside him. He was loose enough that I risked a second in only a minute. I had no idea how much lube I needed. Dylan had always taken care of it himself. So I kept adding more lube as I fingered him. I added a third finger and continued until he was dripping. I pulled my fingers out and patted his thigh. "Turn over now." Patty was happy to comply. He positioned his butt over the pillows and spread his legs. His little dick was as hard and slimy as mine. I almost kissed it, but that was a step too far for me at this time. Maybe later. Not yet. I put some lube on my dick to make sure everything was slippery enough. Then I rubbed the head of my cock against his hole. That was a mistake. The sensation nearly drove me over to the edge. I had to pull back and count to ten. When that didn't work, I counted to one hundred whilst rubbing and fingering his hole. Then I prepared to enter him again. This time I just lined up my cock and pressed forward. I slid inside his silky warmth. He offered me no resistance, but he was still plenty tight. "Fuck! Your ass feels amazing, Patty," I groaned. He arched his back and cried out, "Your cock is stretching me so good, Sir. Fuck me. Fuck me, hard!" Who was I to argue with a request like that? I pulled out and then thrust back inside him. When I did it the second time, Patty relaxed his ass muscles as I pushed inside and then tightened them when I was pulling out. He could do things with his ass that Dylan didn't even know existed. Or maybe Dylan just didn't care to show me everything he knew. Either way, Patty was making my cock feel all kinds of good things. "Oh, I am going to fuck you hard. And then, when I'm done, I'm going to rest for a few minutes and do it all again," I declared. Patty laughed and wrapped his legs around my waist. "You're such a stud, Sir!" I pounded him harder and faster. "You'd better believe it, Patty. And I am going to show you just how much of a stud I am." He groaned and precum spurted out of his cock. I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I'm fifteen, going on sixteen. You will be surprised how many times I can cum in one night." He let out a whimper and replied, "I... can't wait... to... find... out!" Tingling sensations were running up and down my cock. My heart was pounding and I was dripping with sweat. I grabbed his hips so I could pound him even harder. His whimpers turned into high pitched whining. "UHN... UNH... UHN... I'M CUMMING, SIR! I... AAAAARRRRGH!" His tight hole gripped my dick like it was trying to squeeze it flat. I called out, "TAKE MY FUCKING JIZZ, YOU SEXY LITTLE FAGGOT! I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU RIGHT THROUGH THE MATTRESS!" And I thrust as deep as I could inside him and gripped his hips even harder. I hosed the inside of his ass with my cum. And when I was done, I left my cock inside him and started kissing his cute little mouth. I never lost my erection completely. I just dropped down to semi-hardness. We made out until I hardened completely again. Then I started fucking him for the second time. It took longer, but I fucked him to second orgasm. We went three more times that night, although the last two came after a couple hours rest. Ian and Lucas had enjoyed themselves until the end of the third round. At one point they'd even begun masturbating each other. "That was hot boys," Lucas said. And Ian chimed in. "Make sure to take care of my baby brother, Tommy. Don't hurt him, and don't let anyone else hurt him either." After that, we said goodbye and logged out of the chat. Patty and I finished the last two rounds alone. We put shorts and tee shirts on when we were done and went to sleep in Patty's bed. If anyone did look in on us, they wouldn't see anything more suspicious than two teens sleeping in one bed, the larger one with his arms around the smaller one. It would look like we were really fond of one another, maybe even boyfriends, but there was no sign of last night's sexcapades anywhere to be seen. In the morning, I noticed that I'd been included in a text chat with Ian and Lucas. The message read, "Text us if you have any questions or you just want advice about being a good Dom. We can video chat any time." Donny I had to let Tommy know about Jamie. There was no way that I could hide it from him now that he was sleeping on my couch. And... I didn't really want to hide Jamie. I mean, I wasn't going to make an announcement or anything, but I wasn't ashamed of... whatever it was that we had. Last year, I'd had a different girl every few weeks, but that had changed. I'd gone longer before finding a new girl each time one got too clingy and I had to dump her. What was the point in rushing into anything when I had Jamie waiting at home willing to do whatever I wanted without asking for anything in return. The closest he'd come to asking was when he'd handed me the key to his chastity device. Even then, he hadn't asked in words. When Tommy went to the O'Rourkes' house to spend the night, I decided that I would bring Jamie to my bed. Usually I went to his apartment when I wanted to get my rocks off. I hadn't wanted to let him get too comfortable in my apartment, but it occurred to me that I hadn't bothered with a girl in months. It should have disturbed me, but it didn't. Being with a girl had never been about being with a girl for me. Maybe I'm a narcissistic asshole, but it was always about me getting off. And I could do that with Jamie, and he seemed more than willing to make it all about me. I picked up my phone so I could text him and demand he come over. I stared at the screen and began typing. Then I erased it. I put my phone away and decided to go and tell him in person. His apartment was downstairs and over near the front parking lot. I didn't knock because I had my own key. I was surprised to find his place kind of a mess. He usually kept it very tidy. The whiteboard he kept in the living room was full of notations. #15, toilet not flushing. #21, kitchen sink leaking. #6, sliding door off hinges. The list went on. He was working hard to get all the repairs done, and it was technically my job. I took a picture of the board and then went to find him. I tried apartment #15 first. Mr. Collins, a heavyset older man who was wearing just a sleeveless white undershirt and a pair of sweatpants opened the door. I could see straight through the living room into the dining room where Mrs. Collins sat at the table peeling potatoes. He gave me a stern look. "What do you want?" I hated the kind of old person who used their age as an excuse to be a fucking asshole to everyone, but I bit back a sharp retort. "I'm just looking for the property manager. Has he been here?" Mr. Collins narrowed his eyes and replied, "He came here and fixed our toilet. He's running all over the place today and doesn't have time to be bothered. If you have a problem, you should put it on the list and wait your turn like everyone else." "Whatever! I'll find him." I assumed he was working the list in order. I went upstairs and knocked on the door to apartment #21. Mrs. McFeeters opened the door. She was an attractive woman for her age, probably around forty or so. I seemed to recall that she was a teacher, but I couldn't remember what grade. I didn't remember her from high school, so she was probably in the lower grades. "Hello," she said, keeping the door partially closed so she could close it if necessary. "I'm just looking for Mr. Beck, the manager. Is he here?" She nodded. After a brief hesitation, she opened the door and ushered me inside. "He's in the kitchen." I walked in and saw him under the sink adjusting the bolt on the trap under the sink. I seldom saw him in clothes these days, but he was wearing jeans tonight. I couldn't see his chastity... well, I kind of saw it but it wasn't clear what it was. It made him look like he had a bigger cock than he did. I thought that was funny. Locking up his dick in a cage kept him from getting hard, but it made him look more endowed than he was. I squatted down so I could see him. He started a little and then slid out. He glanced toward the archway to the dining area and kept his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry, Sir. I have a lot of repairs to make this afternoon. I... I can't ignore them even if I would rather be doing... something else." I shook my head and whispered back. "I wouldn't ask you to ignore it. I need the money from this job and I don't want your daddy to put someone else in here to manage the place." I patted his thigh and said, "I'm going to help out. After all, it is my job. I've got the job list, so I'll hop to the next one. Text me when you're done, and I'll do the same. I assume we have to share the tools?" He nodded and gave me a half-smile. "Sorry." I backhanded his caged bulge lightly (okay, not lightly, but not too hard) and winked at him. "I'll make you pay for it later." I went to check on Mrs. Billings' sliding door in apartment #6. I had no idea who thought it was a good idea to put sliding doors on an apartment in Indiana. They leak heat like crazy in the winter and they're constantly streaked with mud when it rains. Not only that, they also aren't very secure. The one in apartment #6 was off because its track had collected small pebbles. I had Mrs. Billings hand me a whisk broom and brushed all the stones out onto her floor. Then I lifted the door up and slid it back into the track. As easily as I had fixed it, I could have opened it from the outside. A little jiggling of the handle would cause the locking mechanism to fail and then the door could be removed. And since it wouldn't break the lock, the door could be put back and the homeowner would think they'd left it unlocked. "There you go, Mrs. Billings. Good as new. Keep this track swept out and you won't have a problem like this again." I visited three more apartments. I had to tighten the bolts on a garbage disposal, reattach a cabinet door, and then change the float mechanism in a toilet. Jamie was faster than me because he'd been doing it longer. When we'd finished, I followed him to his apartment. He turned and looked at me. His face was apologetic. "It won't take me long to clean up this mess, Sir. Then I can make you some dinner and I'll massage your feet." I have no idea what came over me. Maybe it was a moment of weakness. I patted his shoulder. "Just get cleaned up, then join me in my apartment. I'll order dinner." I gave him a wicked smile, "But you'll be paying. Then we'll eat together before you massage my feet." He seemed shocked. "Yes, Sir! I'll get cleaned up and be right there!" I left him to go back to my apartment. He was there in thirty minutes; his hair still damp from the shower. I wanted a cheeseburger, so I pulled up Wendy's on the DoorDash app and we ordered dinner. I had a Baconator with fries and a coke. Jamie had an apple pecan salad. Of course he did. I already had his debit card on my account so I used it to pay. Jamie fixed himself a glass of water and then asked, "Should I be naked, Sir?" I chuckled. "Are you in my apartment, or yours?" "Yes, Sir! Sorry, Sir!" he said. Then he started undressing quickly. He was flustered and blushing. For some reason that made me smile. He really was handsome, better looking than me for sure. And I liked the way he looked. The fact that this handsome man had surrendered everything to me filled me with a sense of power that went straight to my cock, stiffening it. I'd never had this feeling with a woman. Even if I found a woman willing to do all the things for me that Jamie did, it wouldn't be the same. It was the fact that a man was surrendering everything to me, even control over his own cock, that sent that thrill through me. A sudden realization came to me like a bolt of fucking lightning. I was no longer thinking of this thing with Jamie as temporary. I didn't want to let him go. I knew I couldn't keep him if he decided to move on, but for the first time I felt a sense of emptiness at the thought. I looked down at him kneeling at my feet and said, "I'm going to paddle you for not stripping naked as soon as you came into the apartment." His eyes were wide, not with fear, but with anticipation. "Yes, Sir." When the food arrived, I sent Jamie to get it. "You can shield yourself behind the door when you get the food, but you can't lie to the delivery guy." Jamie stood behind the door and peered around it. The delivery driver was a thick bodied guy with a medium length beard and a Colts cap. I made sure that I was visible from the doorway. The man glanced at me, fully dressed, and at Jamie, visibly bare from the waist up hiding behind the door. As he was leaving, he said, "Have fun, you guys." Jamie was blushing even harder when he brought the food to the table. It didn't seem to bother Jamie in the slightest to sit naked at the table and eat his salad while I was fully clothed. He used only half the vinaigrette. I pointed to the few slices of roasted chicken in his salad. "How do you stay fit and toned when you don't eat very much protein?" He swallowed his chicken and said, "There's more protein than you think, sir. In addition to the chicken, there's pecans and blue cheese." "Damn! Do you always eat healthy like this?" I asked. He nodded. "I can't give up cheese, but this is close enough to the bottom diet. I eat healthy to make sure I'm always... um... clean. Sorry to talk about toilet stuff while you're eating, Sir." I laughed and shook my head. "Nothing ruins my appetite. And just for the record, I have no intention of switching to rabbit food even if we are going to be eating together." He stopped for a moment and looked at me timidly. "Are we going to start eating together, Sir?" Now my ears were burning. Talk about being uncomfortable. I didn't have conversations like this with anyone, guys or girls. I didn't really do relationships, but whatever this thing with Jamie was, it was the longest... situation... I'd ever had. I cleared my throat. "Yes. We are going to start eating meals together. You're already cooking for me. I just think I'd like it if you sat down with me and had your meal at the same time." "Yes, Sir. I would like that too," he said quietly. I stared at him until he looked up at me. Then I smiled and shook my empty cup. "Of course, even if we're eating together, you're still going to be serving my needs. I'm empty. Go get me another Coke." His face brightened as he grabbed my glass and said, "Yes, Sir." I wondered if I'd made him uncomfortable changing the nature of our relationship. Had I gone too far, or too fast? He handed me my drink and took his seat again. I took a sip and then asked, "What are you thinking, Jamie?" He paused and thought for a while before replying. "I want to spend more time with you, Sir. And I want to enjoy time like this, but I don't want to stop waiting on you and taking care of you, Sir. I like being your slave." "Is that what you are? My slave?" I asked. He moved over and knelt on the floor next to me. "Yes, Master. I am your slave. It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want that to change. It's... I'm... Serving a man like you is my fantasy. The fact that I get to do it for real instead just in my head is... it's overwhelming, Sir. I never thought I'd find a master who could fulfill that fantasy so perfectly. And then I found you, and you are so much more than I'd dreamed. You're demanding and... you're handsome. You're fit. You're strong. You have a big cock and you know how to use it. I just don't want that to end." I smiled at him and nodded. "Good. I wouldn't have it any other way. I can be your master and you can be my bitch. If I decide I want to go out to a movie or a bar or anything, you can go with me and be my bitch in public." I had a sudden desire to parade him around and show everyone he was mine. I'd been thinking about it. There was no way this thing was going to be a secret forever. If it was going to get out, I wanted to be in control of the narrative. I wanted to be out in front of it. I'd show him off whilst making sure everyone knew that I was still the same guy I'd always been. The guys could just suck it up and get jealous of the fact that I had more control over my bitch than they did over their girlfriends. And if they didn't like it, I could put one or two of them on their ass so they knew I hadn't gone soft. "Thank you, Master," he replied. Then he reached down and pulled my boot off my foot. He always took a whiff of my boots when he tended my feet and today was no exception. His penis swelled inside its cage but couldn't get hard. That didn't stop him from leaking precum like a dripping faucet. He pulled the other boot off and did the same thing. "Do you like my feet, Jamie?" He grinned and shook his head. "You don't like my feet?" I asked incredulously. "No, Master. I love your feet!" He pulled my right foot up and pressed it against his face. I used my left foot to bounce his caged cock. He spread his knees further to give me better access to his crotch. His scrotum was full and swollen. I'd have to do something about that. I didn't know if it was healthy for him to go so long without emptying his balls. Jamie rubbed my smelly sock all over his face before pulling it off and kissing my feet. I loved it when he ran his tongue between my toes. And from the little moans he was making, he loved it as much as I did. And after he was done, he sucked each toe individually, then ran his tongue over the bottom of my foot before moving on to the other. I pinched his nose with my left foot and his swollen scrotum with my right, not hard, but it made him squirm. I told him, "You can clean up the dinner mess afterward, but I need you in bed now." "Yes, Master!" he exclaimed, jumping up to move to the bedroom. I let out a sigh. His ass was fine. It wasn't wide and bouncy like a woman's ass. But It was also firm and round like a bubble and I could see the muscles move beneath the skin as he walked quickly out of the room. I caught up with him and smacked his ass, making him jump. I had the opportunity to swat him twice more before he climbed up onto the bed. "Do you want me on my knees or on my back, Master?" he asked. The Master was new today. It had been his idea, but damn if I didn't like it. I walked over to the wall and picked up the big wooden paddle I kept on a hook. It was apparently an old fraternity paddle. It was a long and broad piece of polished wood, three inches thick with holes drilled into it. Three Greek letters were burned into it, but I didn't really know what they were. I swung it hard against my hand, making a loud CRACK. "On your knees, of course. I'm going to redden that sexy ass of yours before I fuck it. Do you remember why?" "I forgot to strip naked as soon as I entered my apartment, Master. And I did it again when I walked into your apartment," he replied. I rubbed the paddle against his ass. "That's right, Jamie. When I'm done you're going to start remembering the rules." "Yes, Master," he said loudly. I swung the paddle through the air, the holes causing a WHOOSH sound. It impacted his ass with an audible THWACK! He jumped forward and cried, "One, Master. Thank you. Please give me another!" I could see the bright red mark left by the first strike. I rubbed it with my hand and felt the warmth. His caged dick was still dripping, so I knew he was enjoying it. I pulled his ass up higher and pressed his knees closer together, trapping his scrotum on the other side of his thighs. I loved the way his glutes bounced when I hit them, the way his cheeks reddened a little more with each strike, the way he jumped, the way his cock showed its excitement by dripping more copiously, the way he moaned, reveling in the way pain turned to pleasure in his body, and the sense of power when he surrendered himself to me so fully. But I found it fascinating that I had no desire to hurt him seriously. It was more like I was helping him to test his limits. I pushed him to the boundary of what he claimed he wanted and then just a little further. I don't know who was prouder when he broke his new boundaries, him or me. It almost, and I do mean almost, made me wonder what it would feel like if our positions were reversed. I gave him five more solid strokes at a slow pace so that three impacted loudly on each cheek. He counted out each one, thanked me, and asked for another. I took a break to rub my hands along his warm cheeks. They were a medium shade of red. I was trying not to cause ugly welts that would be long lasting or interfere with his job or his workouts. I did not want to do anything that got in the way of whatever exercises he did that made his ass stand out in that firm bubble. "Are you ready for the remainder of your punishment?" I ask, running the paddle across his ass gently. He stiffened his spine, which flexed the muscles in his thighs and tightened his glutes. Dammit! Now I'm soaking my jeans with precum. "Yes, Master," he insisted. His skin was already tender, so I could use less force for the same effect. I gave him twelve rapid swats, six on each cheek. I used about half strength, but his reaction was the same at the beginning of the set, but more extreme by the end. He barely had time to end one exclamation before the next began. By the time he said, "EIGHTEEN, MASTER! THANK YOU! PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER!", tears were streaming down his cheeks, and that pool of precum on the towel beneath him had turned milky. He was oozing cum as well. I took his swollen scrotum in my hand and squeezed his balls firmly. His caged cock leaked a steady stream, like I was forcing it out with each squeeze. I made sure to shield him with my hand, then I swung the paddle hard, landing it right across the center of those sexy glutes of his. He yelled, "NINETEEN, MASTER! THANK YOU, MASTER! PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER, MASTER!" When he tried to jump forward, I held him still, using his balls as a handle. My hand was getting slimy. His ass was an extremely bright shade of red, but it didn't seem right to leave it at nineteen swats. I landed one more solid stroke. "TWENTY MASTER! TH... THANK YOU! PLEASE... GIVE ME... ANOTHER!" he cried. It was clear to me that he'd had enough. He was almost sobbing. I squeezed his balls tighter, making him groan. Then I leaned down and whispered in his ear. "No. I decide how many you get, and I'm cutting you off now." Of course he knew that I knew that he didn't really want anymore, but he played the game anyway. For both our sakes, I had to pretend that I was denying him something he wanted. It had to appear to be my decision... but did it have to appear to be motivated by pure selfishness? I patted his ass gently. "I'm the... Dom (I struggled a little to make sure I got the terminology right) in this relationship, Jamie. And it's my decision how much you take at any given time. I'm cutting you off because it's my responsibility to know how much you need and how much you can take." Jamie broke down and started crying. I put my arm around his shoulder and pulled him over so we were sitting next to one another. He kept crying against my shoulder. "What's wrong?" I asked. He brought his sobbing under control. "I'm sorry, Master. I've been trying not to get emotional on you. I know that you don't do relationships. But... I've been waiting for someone to be a real Dom for me. I..." He pressed his face against shoulder and sobbed quietly. "What, Jamie? If I'm your master, I'm ordering you to answer me." He kept his head buried in my chest, but I could hear him mumbling. "I... I love you, Master." I stroked his hair and then I turned his head so I could look directly into his eyes. "I've been involved with you longer than I ever have with anyone else before. And I haven't been tempted to fuck anyone else for months. I think this is a relationship whether I wanted it to be or not. And... it is way too early for me to say the L-word... but I can say that I may be beginning to have deeper feelings for you than I've had for anyone before. Bear with me. Wait to see if what I'm feeling is... what I think it may be." I held his chin tight in my hand and then I kissed him. I'd never kissed him before. I'd kissed girls, but it hadn't been like this. He wrapped his strong arms around my chest. I crushed his lips with mine and thrust my tongue inside his mouth, claiming him as mine in a way that was new to me. He was stronger than any woman I'd been with, his lips were firmer, and his scent... he smelled like a man. He'd showered after all the physical work this afternoon, but he'd also built up a good sweat from our recent exercise. I could smell the faint masculine muskiness of his body. And it smelled good. I'd always liked the way I smelled when I worked out. And Jamie's scent was heading straight for my dick. I was leaking almost as much as he was. We kissed for several minutes, and I was free with my hands. I'd been wanting to stroke his body instead of just slapping him, no matter how much he loved it. The feel of those firm, well-toned muscles moving beneath his skin was incredibly arousing. "You don't have to say anything, Master. Words aren't necessary," he said. I hugged him tighter against me. "I'm going to burn out on the `Master talk', so I'm going to set some rules. When I give you orders or when we're having sex, I want you to call me `Master'. When we're around other people, or when I address you as Jamie, or when I talk to you with this tone of voice or put my hand gently on your shoulder, then you call me `Sir'." "Yes, Sir," he replied. I could almost hear the capital S in his tone. I kissed him again. (I decided that I liked kissing him � a lot!) Then I pushed him back onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck you on your back tonight." He lay back and spread his legs. Then, with no prompting from me, he pulled his knees back and held them tight, exposing his hole. I'd never fucked him like this. I'd always taken him from behind. It was partially due to my complete lack of experience fucking dudes until I met him, and partially due to my aversion to looking at his face and lack of tits while fucking him. Tonight I wanted to try it, looking at his face, looking at his firm masculine pecs, with no way to pretend I wasn't fucking a guy. I grabbed the lube and began rubbing it into his ass. It didn't take much because he'd lubed himself after his shower. But my cock was pretty big and I wanted his hole slippery enough for me to just slide inside without trouble. It helped that Jamie had some pretty impressive toys he used to stretch his hole. And, unknown to him, today I had one I was going to surprise him with. But he'd have to wait until I'd finished fucking him. I lubed my cock and pressed it against his hole. Jamie didn't like it soft and gentle. Frankly neither did I. It was another reason why I preferred fucking him to fucking women. I pressed harder against him until the head of my cock popped inside. I loved that feeling, when his ass sucked me inside like my dick was its favorite treat and it couldn't get enough of it. How had I ever resisted this? I'd never seen such a look of pure bliss on a lover's face. There was no doubt. Jamie loved the feeling of my cock inside him. When I was with chicks, they'd always made it seem like they were doing me a favor, but Jamie acted like I was the one who was doing him a favor. "Do you like that, Slave Boy?" He nodded and breathed heavily. "Yes, Master. I love it. Your cock is bigger than anyone I've ever been with before, and you really know what to do with it." Before I'd stopped using condoms with Jamie, I'd made him show me a clean test for venereal diseases, and now he was monogamous with me. He had been for half a year, and I had only been with him for two months now. The realization that I could fuck him bare without fear of disease or pregnancy was yet another reason fucking him was better than fucking women. I pulled back and then thrust inside him again. This time I managed to hit that spot that made him moan. And it happened again the second time. And the third. I chuckled. "I must be getting better at this." Jamie moaned and panted. "Fuck yeah, Master. You get better every time. Of course, it's easier to hit my g-spot this way since it's on the same side of my rectum as my cock." I took that as a challenge. If it was easier to find this way, I intended to stroke it every time. Jamie's ass always made my cock feel amazing. It was tight, warm, and moist, so long as he and I kept it lubed. I was already throbbing and tingling, but I knew I could hold out for a while. I ran my hands up his thighs and then up his tight abs to his pecs. I rubbed his nipples, pinched them hard, and then twisted them. Jamie called out, "Do it, Master! Pinch them harder!" I set up a rhythm where I pulled almost all the way out slowly, and then thrust back inside him quickly. I made sure to stroke his g-spot each time. His cock wasn't leaking any precum now. It was pure cum that was oozing out of him. "Are you cumming just from me fucking you?" I asked. "Yes, Master! Fuck the cum right out of me! Pound my ass! Smash my balls with your abs!" he shouted. I leaned forward so I could press my abs against his balls and caged cock like he asked. It also gave me a chance to kiss his neck. I decided to mark him as mine, consequences be damned. I sucked hard and bit his neck with enough force to leave a bruise. I left a line of hickeys along his shoulder and then up the side of his neck. Now that my body was pressing his legs back, Jamie let go of his knees and wrapped his arms around my neck. He kissed my neck. He was much gentler with me than I was with him. He kept moaning and saying, "Yes, yes, yes! Please, Master, please. Fuck me. Bite me. Mark me. I want everyone to know that I belong to you." "You do, Slave Boy. You belong to me. I'll use you anyway and anyhow I want. I think I may even get my name tattooed on your body," I said. "Fuck yes, Master. Do it. I want everyone to know." Then his ass started clenching on my cock. He cried, "I'M CUMMING, MASTER! FUCK ME! THAT FEELS FUCKING AWESOME!" Despite being muscular and fit, Jamie trembled in my arms. My balls tightened and my cock swelled. And then I exploded inside him, shooting six loads deep inside him. "TAKE MY LOAD, YOU FUCKING BITCH SLAVE! I'M GOING TO SEED YOU SO HARD THAT IT SHOOTS OUT YOUR MOUTH! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I fell on top of him and panted hard for several minutes, before rolling off. For the first time while he was awake, I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight against me. I brushed his sweaty hair back and kissed his forehead. Then I ran my finger across his lips. I let that same finger wander down and through the thick puddle of cum on his abs. "I was going to take your cage off and edge you for a while before giving you one of those ruined orgasms you love so much, but you came so much from me pounding your pussy that I don't think I have to do that now." "No, Master, you don't. So long as you fuck me like that, I don't care if you ever take it off except for cleaning and shaving." I scooped some of his cum off his belly and pushed it inside his mouth with my finger. He greedily sucked it clean. "You always ooze cum when I fuck you, but this is the first time this happened," I teased. "I haven't been able to cum like this before, not this hard. It's not easy with sex toys and you're the only man I've ever given my key to, so I haven't gone this long without real release before," he explained. In between bouts of me feeding him his own cum, we were able to hold a conversation. I said, "I can't really mark you with my name. Won't your dad get mad when he finds out you're gay?" I asked. He shook his head. "He already knows. He isn't happy about it, but he's accepted it. I don't think I can tell him that I'm paying you and doing your job, or that I'm basically your slave. I doubt he'd tolerate that." "How about if you tell him that you're my boyfriend?" I asked. His eyes opened wide. "Really, Master?" I slapped his face hard but with a smile on my lips so he'd know I was playing. "We're cuddling now, so `Sir' is correct." "Yes, Sir. Can I really tell him that you're my boyfriend?" I nodded. "I'm going to tell my friends that too. There's no way they're not going to find out about us eventually. I want to be the one to tell them. Of course, I'll tell them that you're my bitch and you'll always call me `Sir' around them." He was positively beaming now. "Yes, Sir. That would be great." I leaned back and rested one arm under my head. "And I'm going to tell my dad. I want to rub his smug face in the fact that I'm not afraid to be who I am while he's a degenerate old pervert who can only get his jollies sneaking pics of the underage boys in his congregation. The dumb fuck thought he'd erased the hard drive on the computer he asked me to sell for him, but I had my buddy Ralph restore more than enough to put him away forever if I decided to share it." Jamie ran a hand through my chest hair with a nervous expression on his face. "Um... Sir? I can't really call you `Sir' in front of my dad. He'll figure things out." I shrugged. "In front of your family, you can call me Don. Although, I think your brother Rick is more of a faggot than you are. If one of my friends decides to tame him, I'll show him just what a bitch you are." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think Rick is gay, Sir. He's married." "So's my dad, and he's not just a fag; he's a perverted pedophile. You should have seen the way he used to watch my younger brother, Dylan. Of course, Dylan's as much of a fag bitch as you are. I was going to fuck him and take pictures to show Dad that I'd done what he'd only dreamed about, but now he's my brother Tommy's bitch." We kept chatting until I was ready to fuck again. The second time, Jamie only oozed cum from his locked dicklet. The same with the third. After that, I showed him the present I'd gotten him. It was a butt plug, the kind with the narrow neck that was supposed to stay in. The website said that it could be worn for long periods of time without causing medical problems. I worked it into his sloppy hole and said, "I want you to keep this inside you for a couple hours every time I fuck you. I want your ass to absorb all my sperm. I plan to pump so much of my seed into your ass and your mouth that soon you'll be made entirely of my semen." Jamie snuggled against me, pressing his plugged ass back against my cock. "I like that idea, Sir. I like it a lot." I wrapped my arms around him and held him while we fell asleep. Usually I woke up in the middle of the night holding him like this but fell back to sleep on my own side of the bed. But now, I wanted to establish my ownership of him by this display. Fuck it. I mean, that was true, but the real reason was that I liked the feel of his body against mine. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 120 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps, six years her senior and the manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He is of average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscles, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah. ● Jamie Beck. 25 year old manager of an apartment complex. His dad owns the place but leaves Jamie to run it onsite as he owns multiple other rental properties. Jamie is a gay submissive who has surrendered himself to Donny Morgan. He's totally in love with him. He's a handsome, fit guy. Average height and weight, but well-toned from working out a lot. He has brown hair and brown eyes. ● Josephine "Josie" Kurtz. A doctor who's in a relationship with Phyllis MacDonald. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father's. He stands 6 feet tall and weighs 175 pounds. He is muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness. ● Patrick O'Rourke. A 14-year-old sophomore who turns 15 before the end of September. He's gay and has a mysterious boyfriend who lives out of town. Tommy Morgan decides to turn him into his bitch, but Patty is more than willing to play. ● Phyllis MacDonald. A lawyer and friend of Roger Groth. She handles a lot of civil rights cases, including LGBTQIA+ cases. She's in a relationship with Josie Kurtz. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
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Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 14 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded) ● Wishcraft (Concluded) ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 14 Dylan Tuesday morning, I woke with a start. Tommy's hand was covering my mouth and he was pinching the head of my penis. I tried to pull away from him, but despite the fact I was two years older than him, he was heavier and stronger than me. He pinched my penis harder and said, "Stop struggling or I will hurt you this morning." When I stopped resisting him, Tommy let go of my penis and took his hand off my mouth. He ran one finger across my lips. "Tell me how happy you are to see me this morning." I sighed. "Tommy..." He glared and I corrected myself. "...Sir, I don't want to do this with you. You're my brother." Tommy grabbed my balls and squeezed them hard enough to make me gasp. "That's right. I am your brother and that means you owe me. You're a faggot and that means that someone is going to be fucking you, and that someone may as well be your goddamned brother. Besides, your hard cock tells me that you were dreaming of me. Now, tell me the truth." He didn't want the truth. He wanted me to lie. Since I didn't want to feel any more pain, I lied to him. "You're right, Sir. I am happy to see you." He scooted into the twin bed next to me and said, "Good. Now suck my cock." I moved down to... blow my younger brother, and he scooted over so he was in the middle of the bed. Tommy wasn't a very good-looking guy. He had all the traits of our older brother Donny, but where they were handsome on my older brother, on Tommy they were less appealing. Donny had dark red hair, almost brown, that hung in soft curls down to his collar. Tommy's curls were tighter and more orange in hue. Donny had a lot of freckles, but they were only a few shades darker than his skin and they made him look masculine, like Prince Harry. But Tommy's skin was almost as light as mine, and his freckles were dark, looking like the spots of a cheetah. Donny was tall and his stocky frame was covered in muscle. Tommy was solid and he had a lot of muscle, but it was under a layer of flab that could no longer be called baby fat at his age. I used to think his cock was big, and I suppose at six inches it was a good size for a fifteen-year-old, but after seeing Kurt's cock I tended to think anything less than eight inches was small. It was almost two inches thick, which made it look like a little fire hydrant. I swallowed the whole thing easily, and I was able to rub my tongue around the shaft because Kurt's was a little more than two inches wide. His dick tasted of his cum and my ass. I guessed he hadn't washed it since he'd fucked me last night. I couldn't really say that I hated the taste. If it were Kurt's cock, tasting of his cum and my ass, I'd be loving it. But it wasn't Kurt's dick. It was my brother's. Tommy ran his hands through my hair and moaned, "Oh fuck, that feels so good, Dylan. I used to hate that you were a fag, but now I'm glad you are. There's nothing like having a live-in cocksucker." Maybe he thought he was turning me on, but he wasn't. I thought about biting his dick and making him scream, but I knew that Mom and Dad would just blame me. It would be my fault for tempting him, just like it was Uncle Cory's fault for tempting my dad. Of course, it couldn't be Dad's fault for basically molesting his younger step-brother. The fag was always to blame. That's how it worked in families like mine. Tommy was young and he had a hair trigger. Soon he was beginning to tremble a little. That's when he pulled my mouth off his dick and said, "Stop! I want to cum inside your ass." "You can't..." I started to explain, but Tommy was fast for his weight. He grabbed me by the hair and jerked me to the side of the bed between him and the wall. Then he jumped on top of me and started choking me. His face was red, and his fingers were digging into my neck. "Don't tell me what I can't do! I'm trying to be nice to you, faggot, and you keep pissing me off." I broke down and started crying. That had never made Tommy back down before, but it did this time. He let go of my neck and he said, "I'm sorry I had to hurt you, but you need to stop disrespecting me. I have to punish you when you get out of line so you learn to be a good little faggot and then I won't have to hit you. Now, why are you crying?" "My ass isn't clean." I hastily added, "Sir" to avoid another beating. Tommy laughed. "Is that all? That's easily fixed; you can clean it." I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Sir, but there's no time. He sighed. "Okay. I'll let you suck my cock some more while I'm thinking. Get back down there and start sucking." He scooted back to recline against my pillows, and I moved back down between his legs and took his cock in my hands. His legs were really hairy, and he had an unruly orange bush around his dick. Like me, he had no foreskin to play with, so I just swallowed his cock again. Tommy spread his legs and sighed. "This is the life. Morning blowjobs, blowjobs before bed and fucking your skinny butt in between. And I have a solution to your problem. You need to get up however early it takes, clean your ass out really good and be waiting for me by 6:00." He called it my problem, like I was the one who wanted to get fucked by him. He snapped his finger then slapped my head in what he thought was a playful manner. "Better idea! You get cleaned up and come naked into my room and wake me up with a blowjob. When I wake up, I'll fuck your ass for you and then you can get ready for school." He was already starting to groan softly, so I knew he was close. I employed every trick I knew to make him cum as fast as possible. Soon enough he was grabbing my hair and trying to choke me with his dick. Like that was going to happen. Maybe I couldn't take all of Kurt's dick in my mouth yet, but I could take the first six inches easily enough. But I decided to humor Tommy and to stroke his ego, so I forced myself to gag a little. It worked. He had a big smile plastered across his face. "Yeah! Choke all you want. You'll learn to take my big dick with practice - and you are going to get a lot of practice!" And then he flooded my mouth with his load. He was so loud I was afraid Mom and Dad would wake up and come rushing in. "God fucking dammit, that feels good. Suck it you little faggot! Suck all the spunk right down your faggot throat!" I swallowed it all while Tommy held my head tight to his groin. When he finally let go, I tried to get up, but he pulled me back up next to him. He kissed my forehead and said, "I told you last night that you belonged to me, Dylan. I'm going to take care of you. Next time Dad comes at you, I'm going to tell him to fuck off. And if he gives me any lip, I'm going to put him on his ass like Donny did." He was waiting expectantly for something, so I hurriedly answered, "Thank you, Sir." Tommy kissed me again. Unlike last night, he avoided my mouth this time. I guessed that he wasn't familiar with the taste of cum. He'd have to get used to it eventually. Wait! Why was I even thinking that? This thing between us was going to end as soon as I could find a way to do it. Then he ran one calloused hand over my smooth butt and patted it. "Go get dressed now, and don't forget our new schedule." As I was getting up, he gave me a smile he must have thought was friendly � or maybe sexy. "After all, I don't want to have to beat you." I cleared out of there in a hurry. Was this my life now? Was I my fifteen old brother's unwilling boyfriend on the downlow? How was I going to keep this a secret from my real boyfriend, my master, Kurt? Should I? If I didn't, what would Kurt do? And how could I possibly get out of it? Once I turned eighteen and moved out the house, sure, it would be no problem. But until then... What was I going to do? Damian Last night had been intense. I'd always hoped, heck I'd always believed, that my brothers, Michael and Brian, would accept me. They'd always said they loved me and had never been afraid to show it. But I'd always held doubts. It's not that they ever said or did anything to make me think that they would be angry, but that nagging doubt had always been there. I suppose it was like this for all gay kids. But I'd decided to stop hiding. I had no intention of coming out, not for a few weeks, but I didn't want everyone to be blindsided by my great revelation. Normally, I wore somewhat sedate clothes to school, but today I pulled on a button down shirt of silvery gray over a light blue muscle shirt. I tucked it into a pair of light blue distressed jeans. I'd been playing with my bracelet for a long time, picking it up and running my fingers across the polished wooden beads. I put it back down, then I picked it up, swallowed hard and put it on my wrist. The heck with it! I thought. Why not? In for a penny, in for a pound. I normally avoided wearing anything I thought made me look too gay to school. I took out a complimentary necklace of braided multi-colored strands of leather and put it around my neck. It too had polished wooden beads between the strands. It was almost short enough to be a choker, but not quite. Now I looked like the gay boy I was. As a final thought, I attached a small cross to it. Being gay didn't mean I had to give up who I was. My priest had told me many times that Jesus loved me. If that was true, and I felt deep in my heart that it was, then he must love the gay me, because that was the only me that was real. The last piece was the silver chain with Steven's class ring. I made sure the ring was safely hidden beneath the muscle shirt. I'd promised Steven I wouldn't let anyone see it until I was eighteen. It was lying next to my heart, where I could feel it all day. ********** School was good. It's not like anyone had ever harassed me there. For one thing, I was a jock. I mean, we weren't considered tough guys, like the football team, the basketball, and the wrestling team, but we swimmers were still athletes. And of course, my brother was also a teacher at the school. That helped. But there was a downside to having a brother on campus. "Damian, could I see you in my classroom for a minute?" I said goodbye to my friends and said, "Sure, Mr. Wilder." Michael closed the door and looked me over from head to toe. "What is this, Damian?" "What? My clothes?" He put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a hug. "You know that I love you, and that I am on your side, but... don't you think you're being a bit obvious? This isn't Indianapolis or Evansville. This is rural Indiana." "I know that, but..." Michael interrupted me. " ...but I don't want to see my baby brother harassed by a bunch of homophobes." He adjusted my collar and patted my cheek. "And you are way too pretty to get this face messed up." I laughed and pulled back away from him. "I don't plan on staying in the closet. I plan on coming out on my 18th birthday, and the school is going to have to accept it." He shook his head. "I don't know if you're being brave or being foolish." I was suddenly second guessing myself. "Are you saying you want me to stay in the closet?" He shook his head and sighed. "No. I want you to do what you feel is right for you, but I want you to be careful because I worry about you. And I want you to be careful not to put Steven in danger. He's an adult. You're not. If anyone finds out... or even suspects that the two of you are having sex, he could be in really big trouble." I didn't want anything to happen to Steven. I nodded and said, "Okay. I can put myself back into a box, if you think it's necessary." He put a hand on my shoulder and asked, "Don't you?" I sighed, "Yeah, I think so." "Good. I'll see you tomorrow. Tell Mom and Dad that I said `hi'." Then I went to swim practice. I took my jewelry off and put it in my bag. And after practice, I didn't put it back on. I drove back home to get ready for a date with Steven. We were going out to dinner. We'd gone out before, but everything seemed different after Indianapolis. Before it was just a thing we did as friends. Now it felt like a real date! I put on my sexiest underwear, a pair that the website had laughably called a "fashion jock". It had thin little straps and a tiny pink pouch that barely covered me when soft and provided no support whatsoever. The only thing keeping it from being a thong were the two straps running under my cheeks instead of a single strand running between them. Then I put on the most basic pair of Levi's in the most boring shade of indigo blue ever seen. I finished this most pedestrian of looks with a plain red polo shirt. At least I was gay underneath the clothes. I drove over to Steven's house to meet up with him. No matter how much he pretended he wanted us to have an equal relationship, he dominated me as effectively as Kurt dominated Dylan, just in a different way. There was no way he would let me drive when we went out, and there was no way he'd let me pay for dinner. He'd even been unhappy with my dad giving him money for our Indianapolis trip. I'd found the same amount of money in my wallet, which Steven must have slipped in there when I wasn't looking. I wasn't complaining. I wouldn't have it any other way. I would have gladly paid my way, don't get me wrong, but I liked him being truly himself when we were together. Which meant him being the man. Steven had picked the restaurant. Liddy's was the closest thing we had to fine dining in our small town. It was a small restaurant owned by Liddy Johnson, a woman about my mother's age. I knew her because her son Randy was a year behind me in school and he was on the swim team with me. He worked part time at the restaurant and his sister Donna worked there full time. This date was the riskiest thing Steven and I had done so far. It wasn't that having dinner together was illegal, but we risked people knowing we were more than friends. We were sitting at a booth in the back corner, and Steven kept touching my hand when no one was looking. A chill went through me at every touch, and I felt like my skin was on fire. I imagined him leaning across the table and kissing me, but I knew he couldn't. And the kissing led to touching, which led to me crawling under the table and sucking his dick right there in the restaurant. If only such options were realistic... Steven pulled back his hand just before Donna arrived with our food. She was pretty enough. I could see why someone would be interested in her if they were into girls. But she pissed me off the way she'd been making eyes at my boyfriend since we came in and the way she kept leaning over so he could see down her shirt. "Let's see. Damian is having the brats and you're having chicken," she said, sliding the plates in front of us. She wasn't wrong. No matter how much she flirted with Steven, I was the one who was going to have the sausage tonight and Steven was going to have chicken. I was forcing it, but there was definitely a metaphor there! Not that I was really "chicken" as far as Steve was concerned. He was only two years older than me. Half his age plus seven was sixteen and a half. I was older than that, so it wasn't creepy that we were dating - it was just illegal that we were having sex. "Thank you, Donna," Steven said politely. He didn't even roll his eyes when she asked, "Is there anything else I can get you?" "No thank you. We're fine." He even smiled at her, which made her smile back a little too obviously. I may have been too hard on her. As far as she knew, Steven was unattached. How could she know that we were seeing each other and that she was actually hitting on my boyfriend while we were on a date. I tried not to be too obvious while she chatted with Steven over nothing, but my knee was going up and down quickly and I was gritting my teeth. Steven was too polite to just cut her mid-sentence, but as soon as there was a break in the conversation, he said, "It was nice catching up with you Donna. Maybe I'll see you around sometime." I breathed a deep sigh when she left, and Steven smirked at me. "You're jealous, aren't you?" "Yes. I am. She can come over and flirt with you. She can practically flash her breasts at you. But I can't sit next to you and... kiss you." Steven glanced around the room and didn't see anyone looking in our direction. Then he took my hand and lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "She's not a bad person, but she's had a crush on me since middle school. And you're the one I'm here with tonight, not her." That made me feel better. I hadn't realized how jealous I'd been. Perhaps threatened was more realistic. She was someone society would approve of Steve dating. Some would be upset because he was black and she was white, but none of them would be as upset as they would at the thought of me and Steve. I'd just needed to hear him say the words, to reassure me that it was me he wanted. I touched my fingers to my lips; the tips were still tingling from where his mouth had caressed them. I didn't even give her the stink eye when she kept dropping by for a quick chat while we were eating. But I did kick off my left shoe and slide my foot up Steven's leg. Of course, my boyfriend was imperturbable. He didn't let it show on his face. Instead, he reached under the table and pulled my foot over and pressed it against his bulge. When she left, he whispered, "That's for you, not her." My own cock sprang to life at his words. The fact that his fingers were stroking the bare skin of my ankle excited me even more. I leaned back and ran my tongue over my lips. It was an involuntary reaction on my part, like the racing of my heart and the blushing of my skin. In as low a tone as I could muster, I said, "If you don't let go of my foot, I think I'm going to..." I mouthed the word "cum". He stroked it a few more times and then slid his hand up the leg of my jeans to rub my smooth calf. I had always shaved for swimming, but then Steven had commented that my dick and balls would look better if I shaved my pubic hair, my ass too. When my guy had told me outright that he liked my smooth skin, I did it without question. Since then, I'd been keeping everything below my eyebrows smooth, even when I wasn't training. Finally, he let go and leaned forward to say, "What I really want to do is to kiss you or pull you under the table so you can suck my cock." I chuckled and replied, "Great minds think alike. That's what I was thinking earlier." I made as if I was going to slide under the table, but Steven grabbed my arm and said, "No! It's too risky." I sat up straight in the booth and gave him a wink. "Gotcha!" He kicked my leg playfully and then we finished eating. Neither of us wanted anything off the dessert menu. We were full from the massive portions served here, and besides we both knew we would be finding something else to satisfy us once we got to Steve's house. I was in such a good mood that I didn't even roll my eyes when Donna brought Steven his copy of the receipt and wrote her number on it. He'd made it clear to me that he was mine, just as much as I was his. And he showed it as much as he could without raising too much suspicion. He touched my back gently as we were exiting the restaurant, and when he opened my door for me to get into the car, he let his hand brush against my butt. Dylan Kurt and I were bad. Steven was out to dinner with Damian and Mr. Groth had taken my uncle back to his apartment so they could "take care of some things". We were supposed to be studying, but Kurt smacked my butt and said, "I think they want to have noisy sex and they don't want us to hear." I shook my head. "How much noisier could it get, Master?" Kurt took hold of my shirt and pulled it off my torso. Then he pinched one nipple between his fingers hard enough to make me gasp. "Have you seen some of the toys my dad has hidden in his office?" I shook my head. "I don't snoop in his stuff. That would be wrong of me, Master." He unbuttoned the waistband of my jeans and then worked his way down my fly, opening each button in turn. "I don't snoop either, but one time when I was in there working, I noticed the cabinet was open and I couldn't help myself. My dad and your uncle are into some seriously kinky stuff." He yanked my pants down so I could step out of them and then he held up a small whip, only a few inches long with multiple strands of leather on it. I raised both eyebrows and asked, "Did you take that from his collection, Master?" He lashed my hard dicklet through my underwear. It was covered in cloth, so it didn't really hurt. Then he gave me a wicked smile. "I don't borrow my dad's stuff. I saw one like this in his cabinet and I ordered one for you." "For me, Master?" "Oh yes. For you. I am going to whip your penis with this toy. Would you like that?" I held my breath and nodded slightly. "Yes, Master. Will it hurt?" He squeezed my cocklet through my jock. "It's going to hurt." Then he got serious. "Dylan, I know that you're into this kind of thing, and I really enjoy punishing you, but... you need to let me know if it becomes too much." "My body is yours, Master. You can punish me as hard as you want." He sighed. "I know that, Dylan, but I don't want to hurt you. I mean, I do want to hurt you, but only in ways you enjoy it. I don't want to really hurt you." I lowered my jock slowly, letting my hard little erection bounce. I looked him in the eye and said, "I trust you, Master." He shook his head and said, "Dylan, I know you trust me, but I want to know that I can trust you as well. Sometimes you scare me with how eager you are. I'm not my father. I don't know where all the lines are and when I'm crossing them. If I do something that crosses a line, I need you to tell me. Promise me that you will say `I'm not into this' if it gets to be too much." He dropped to his knees and took hold of my thighs. "If that's what you want, Master, I will do it, but I want you to do whatever you want with me. That's what being a slave means." Kurt I couldn't seem to get through to him. I loved the whole slavery thing. Having this sexy boy at my command made me feel powerful. It was the greatest rush I could imagine. But I'd be equally happy just ordering him around and having him serve me. I didn't want to hurt him for real. I just wanted to give him what he wanted. I'd read about safe words, so I thought I'd give him a phrase he could say. Unfortunately, he was not happy with the idea. I sighed. "Okay. New plan. You tell me when you're not into it, then I will decide whether to stop or not. If I want to go on, I will. If I decide to stop, I will." That seemed to make him happy. He said, "Thank you, Master. That's the way it should be. I belong to you, and I have no say over what you do with me." I didn't let it show on my face, but he was disturbing me. I had to talk to Steve. No, I had to talk to Dad. I'd always been more comfortable talking to Steve about things, mainly because he could give me advice, but couldn't order me to do anything. This, however, was an issue for Dad. What was I to do with a boyfriend who refused to put any limits on what I could do to him? I wondered if he'd ever gone through this sort of thing with his slave. I steeled my resolve and lashed his hip with the penis whip. "Get down on your back. I'm going to beat your cock until you... until I decide you've had enough." I'd almost said "until you beg me to stop" but I couldn't be sure that he would ever ask me to stop. Dylan was a stubborn little guy. I was going to have to watch my words around him. Dylan When I saw that little whip, my heart leapt into my throat and a tingle of excitement ran through me. I'd included a folder with all kinds of images of BDSM devices on my hidden Google Drive, the one I shared with Kurt and Steven. I'd been hoping he would take a look. I didn't know whether he had seen the whip in my folder or in his dad's cabinet, but it didn't matter. He'd picked one up. With Tommy I was terrified he was going to hurt me. It's what he'd always done, and he'd learned it from Donny. But with Kurt, it was different. With Kurt I wanted this, I wanted to feel his hand, his whip, his... I wanted him to hurt me because I trusted him. I knew that he'd never truly injure me because he enjoyed hurting me. He would only do it to make me happy. I lay down on the carpet, my muscles trembling in anticipation. Master ran the whip up each of my thighs and then dragged it gently across my throbbing dicklet. I let out a little whimpering moan. Then Master dragged the strands of the whip across my scrotum, making it tighten. He turned my face so that he could look directly into my eyes. Then he drew back the little whip and lashed it against my erection. I cried out, "Uuungh! That's one Master!" The pain was sharp, and it hadn't felt like my master had held anything back. It shot through my penis and swept straight to my head. I knew there was something weird about me. It had hurt like hell, but it had also triggered a sense of intense pleasure in my brain. Maybe it was because I knew that I deserved it? Kurt lashed me again, and again I cried out. "Two, Master!" And again. "Three, Master!" He struck me twice more on the short shaft and then he moved to my balls. Kurt It didn't matter how hard I hit him. Dylan just moaned and writhed beneath the lash. It wasn't like this little whip was going to cause real damage, but it amazed me to see his cute little cocklet throb and leak when I hit it with the small switch. He never missed a count either, not even when I moved to his balls and started lashing them. He was trembling when I stopped after ten strokes to his shaft and ten strokes to his nuts. I grabbed the lube and pumped a small amount into my hand so I could get him ready. Dylan always douched before leaving work, so I knew he was clean. His ass had tightened even more than usual from the light CBT I'd given him. I rubbed around the outside of his pretty hole, making him moan and whimper. Sometimes I wondered who was really the slave in this relationship. For a master, I spent a lot of time worrying about giving him pleasure. Not that I minded. Dylan was so devoted to me that it was frightening sometimes. It had taken me longer to realize it than either Dad or Steve. I pushed the tip of my index finger inside his hot bottom. He wiggled his butt and pushed back against me. I added more lube and pushed farther inside him. "Do you like that, Slaveboy?" I teased. "Yes, Master, yes!" "What do you want?" "I need my master's cock inside me, Master." Damn that was hot. He didn't say he wanted me inside him. He said he needed it. And if the look on his face was to be believed, he wasn't lying about that. He absolutely looked like a guy in need. He was breathing hard. His pupils were dilated. His pale skin was warm and flushed pink. "Do you think you deserve my cock, Slaveboy?" I asked with a fake scowl. Dylan shook his head. "No, Master. I know that I don't deserve it. I beg you to take mercy on me and give it to me anyway." I slapped his ass hard enough to leave a handprint. "Put your legs up, Slaveboy!" He pulled his legs back to his chest, exposing his pretty hole to me. It was quivering when I touched it and he'd relaxed enough for me to stick three fingers inside him. I had to use a lot of lube. His ass was small, and my dick was, in the words of my brother, a giant mutant monster cock. Every girl who'd seen it had freaked out. No girl had ever been able to take it in their mouth and only Alicia had let me fuck her. And that was a miserable experience. She'd complained about the width, and I don't think I came close to getting more than halfway inside. The guys on the team had been impressed, but I'd begun to wonder whether anyone would ever want it inside them, until Dylan. He'd seen it before and he didn't hesitate to try and take the whole thing the first time we'd been together that way. I couldn't express how disappointed I'd been that he couldn't. But, unlike anyone else I'd been with before him, he had kept on practicing until he could. He was special that way. He didn't even call it a mutant monster. He called it a "giant masculine magical cock. I put the head against his hole and pressed in. Dylan moaned, "Uuuuuuungh! Thank you, Master!" It always amazed me to see that tiny hole expand to take my cock. It was about ten inches long and about as wide as a coke can. I pushed it inside him inch by inch. When I hit that inner sphincter, I moved my hips around so that the head of my cock was teasing it. It took a minute or so, but Dylan's ass was well trained by now. Once I'd let it know that I meant business, he opened fully for me and let me slide the last three inches inside. Now I could fuck him for real. I pulled nine inches out and then thrust them back in slowly. Dylan was making incoherent little "ungh, ungh, ungh" noises, broken occasionally by high pitched cries. He arched his back and pushed against me with his butt, trying to get as much of my cock inside him as he could. His little cocklet was still red from the whipping it had taken and it was hard and shiny with precum. His eyes were closed, and he was trying to control his breathing. His anus was stretched smooth around the shaft of my cock. Dylan's toes were curling, and his hands were digging into the carpet. Seeing my boy enjoying himself so much was the most arousing thing I could imagine. No one seemed to enjoy sex as much as Dylan. I leaned over to kiss his lips while I fucked him and I said, "You were built to take my dick, Slaveboy." I knew it would excite him. He loved to hear things like that. But what he said in return, disturbed me to my core. "It's all I'm good for, Master." I couldn't deal with that right then, not when I was so close to orgasm and so was he. If I didn't want to ruin the moment, I had to force it out of my mind and concentrate on how his warm ass was gripping my cock, like a mouth trying to rip it out by the root. For a boy with very little muscle development, or should I say young man, while he is my boy, he really isn't that immature, his ass muscles were incredibly strong. And I had no idea if other guys had control over those muscles the way Dylan did. I knew that I couldn't feel any muscles moving inside my own rectum other than the anus itself. I'd tried it with my finger once, out of curiosity, and there was nothing. I was trying to hold my orgasm back until Dylan came because it felt amazing when his ass started clenching on my cock like there was no tomorrow. My breathing was ragged, and I was dripping sweat. A droplet fell on his cheek, and I licked it up. I knew what would speed his orgasm. I grabbed his wrists, held them to the floor above his head and shifted so that my body flattened his little cock and balls with every thrust. I growled in his ear. "Cum for your master, you little fuck hole. Spill your load all over your belly. Do it. Cum now." I kept encouraging him while I fucked him. Finally, he let go with a loud, "I'M CUMMING MASTER!" And then I could let go. His ass was working its magic on my cock. And, frankly, it was a huge ego boost to be able to make my little guy cum just by fucking his ass and talking him over the edge. I made a final thrust as deep inside him as I could and my cock exploded, spraying the inside of his colon with my seed. "TAKE IT SLAVEBOY! TAKE YOUR MASTER'S LOAD INSIDE YOU LIKE THE LITTLE FUCK SLAVE YOU ARE!" I fell on top of him and lay there until I could breathe normally, then I rolled over on my back. Dylan jumped up and swallowed my cock. He could only take two thirds of it in his throat, but he was able to lick the rest of it clean. I patted his shoulder and said, "Let me up. I need to piss." He looked me in the eye and swallowed just the head of my cock and started sucking. I'd introduced him to this activity back when we'd first decided to become master and slave. It had been hot, but it was also pretty extreme, so I'd backed off on it. But apparently Dylan wanted it. I let loose and he swallowed greedily. When he was done, I asked, "Do you like that?" He shook his head. "No, Master, but I like doing it for you, even though I don't like it." I started to tell him that he was a sick and twisted guy, but I stopped myself. If that's what he thought about himself, I didn't want to feed those thoughts. I patted him on the head again and said, "Go brush your teeth because I want to kiss you." While he was brushing his teeth, I gathered up our clothes so we could change. My mind couldn't get past Dylan's need to debase and demean himself. I had no idea what to do about that. It was yet another thing I was going to have to discuss with Dad. I didn't really feel comfortable talking about my sex life with him, even though he had always been calm and non-judgemental, but I was going to have to bite the bullet and do it. My boyfriend needed help, help that I couldn't give him on my own. When he finished, I had Dylan make us some simple turkey and cheese sandwiches, and I watched him while he ate his. It looked like he'd lost weight, and he didn't have any extra pounds to spare. He worried me. He was happy when he was here. I knew he was. So the stress and unhappiness had to have come from "home". After he cleaned up, I picked him up and carried him into the living room. Then I held him on my lap on the sofa for a while and we made out until Steven got home. Steven After dinner, I took Damian to my house. We would have an hour and fifteen minutes before he'd have to go home. Kurt and Dylan were naked on the couch kissing, so we just said hello and then ran upstairs to my room. As soon as we were inside, I grabbed him and crushed him in my arms. I kissed him roughly and pulled his polo shirt up because I loved to strip him naked. It was like opening a present. I could see my class ring hanging on a chain around his neck and it reminded me that Damian was a lot more romantic than me. It had been a casual gesture on my part, but it meant so much to him. I had to be more aware of that. If he wanted more romance, I had to give it to him. I pulled him down onto the bed next to me and gently stroked his naked torso, while I kissed him gently on his soft lips. He was a swimmer, like me, so we had similar builds. He presented as having a slimmer build than me, but that was an illusion. Proportionally, we were probably both the same, but I was half a foot taller than him which meant that I was a couple of inches broader than him in the chest. I bent down to lick one of his nipples. He giggled, so I moved to the other and did it again. His laugh made me hornier than hell. He was so sexy lying there, his light skin contrasted with my own, like... like a creamy... like when you add cream to... or no, like chocolate with... you know when the darker thing and the lighter thing... oh, fuck it! We looked good. No, we looked better than good. We looked fucking fantastic lying there next to one another. And his slender body was covered with smooth muscles. Like me, he shaved his body. I ran a finger down his chest, between his pecs, then down his abdomen to his navel. I brushed them against his bulge. Of course, that was the place where we really were different. Sure, I was bigger than him, eight inches to his almost six, but where I was sporting a full "head" of pubic hair, Damian was totally smooth. Over the summer, I'd casually asked him if he'd ever thought about shaving his pubes and ass, and of course he'd run off and done it. He saw me staring at him and asked, "What?" "What do you mean?" "What are you staring at?" I ran my hand back up his torso and then along his pretty lips. I replied, "You. You are one of the most beautiful guys I've ever laid eyes on." He blushed. He, Dylan, and Kieran all had that in common. They had that kind of skin that turned an alluring pink when they were embarrassed. Not all white boys had it, but I guess I liked the ones who did. He said, "Stop it. You're the sexy one." I pushed him onto his back and undid his belt. "I just had dinner and you look good enough to eat." I licked his navel. He was super-sensitive there and he started laughing and rolling around on the bed. "Stop before you make me pee all over the place." I stopped licking him and pulled his jeans open, revealing a tiny pink pouch underneath. His cock was straining to break free, the cloth patterned with splotches of dried and fresh precum. I ran a finger over its length, making it jump. "Not with this erection you won't," I teased. "Oh God, Steve. When you touch me like that, I feel like I'm going to shoot immediately." I bent down and kissed his erection. "And what about that?" He moaned and bit his lip, in that sexy way he had. "Steve, don't freak out." He took a deep breath and let it out. I knew what he was going to say, so I joined him. At the same time, almost in unison, we said, "I love you." He wrapped his arms around my neck and crushed my lips with his. Not too long ago, I would have frozen before getting the words out and Damian would have panicked that I would become "distant and prickly". That instinct was still there, lurking below the surface waiting to spring out on me when I least expected it - or wanted it. But it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders over the last weekend, allowing me to feel comfortable in leaving myself emotionally vulnerable like this. I welcomed his initiative. I squeezed him tight and thrust my tongue inside his mouth. Then I moved my hands down and grabbed the waistband of his jeans and tugged them down over his round ass. I loved Damian in this underwear; his butt was exposed, allowing me to run a finger along his crack. Damian moaned and pushed his butt back against my hand. I whispered in his ear. "I know what you want." Damian buried his face in my neck, "I want you to rip my pants off and fuck me hard." I pushed him back onto the bed, grabbed his jeans, and ripped them off, exposing his long lean legs. I started kissing his left leg, beginning at the ankle, and working my way up to his knee. Then I did the same thing to his right leg. Damian grabbed my arm and said, "Fuck me now, Steve. If you put your lips on my cock, I am going to cum as soon as they touch it and I want to feel you inside me tonight." I kissed the inside of his thigh. "How about I suck your dick, and then fuck you? "Hold on," he said, grabbing his phone. I didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. Here we were, talking about whether I was going to suck him off before I fuck him, and he decided to make a phone call. He made a call and then said, "Hi, Dad. Um... it's getting late. Can I stay over at the Groth's house and go to school from here?" That explained it. I'd never gotten in trouble as a child, but compared to Damian, I was a bad boy. He was the perfectly attentive, rule-abiding son. I half expected him to ask his dad whether I should suck first then fuck or do it the other way around. I didn't hear what Mr. Wilder said, but Damian said, "Yeah, I know, but Kurt and I want to put the finishing touches on that government paper, and it may take us a while." And now he was lying to the old man, and he was doing it for me. It was so hot that this guy was willing to go all out for me. I was turning the altar boy into a bit of a rebel. I nuzzled his neck and whispered, "You're a naughty boy lying to your father that way. I may have to spank your butt before I pound you into oblivion." He bit back a laugh and said, "Thanks, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow." He ended the call and threw his hands around my neck. "I am all yours." "All night?" I asked. He grabbed my dick through my pants and grinned. "All night, all month, all year... however long you want me." I grabbed his pretty little pink jock. The silky pouch of his jock was soaked through, so I pulled it off and held it to my mouth and sucked his sweet precum right out of the cloth. His cock was red and throbbing. and his hairless penis was also covered in his delicious juices. I bent down and licked his cock, tasting his semen straight from the source. I licked my lips and said, "Yummy. Oh, and I'm going to hold you to that offer." "What offer?" I kissed his lips gently. "You gave yourself to me and I plan on keeping you." "For how long?" he whispered. "All night." I kissed him again. "All month." And again. "All year. For however long you want me to keep you." "Promises, promises, promises," he said. "And speaking of promises, didn't you promise to suck my dick?" "Yes, sir! It will be my pleasure, sir!" I replied. Then I slid down to take his cock in my mouth. Damian groaned and ran his hands along my head. It was cute how he was imitating me. I loved wrapping my fingers in his hair while he sucked my dick. I loved his wavy locks, but I kept my hair cut to only a few millimeters. Kurt and I shared the traits of our Caucasian father and Black mother in different ways. My skin was more like caramel, and my eyes were so light that they looked almost golden, while Kurts was darker, more than coffee with cream, almost chocolate milk. But his hair had looser curls that naturally twisted into dreads if he let it grow out whereas mine was so tightly curled that it looked like a solar eclipse behind my head if I let it grow out. And afros went out in the seventies. Meanwhile, Damian, who had honey brown hair with gold highlights, kept four inches or so on the top of his head with a tight fade on the sides. He was darker than Dylan, who always looked like he'd burn if the sun so much as touched his skin, but still fair skinned, unless he'd been working on a summer tan. I always wanted to lick him all over whenever I saw him naked. Damian's cock was a healthy six inches. If you read a lot of porn, you may think that was small, but it wasn't. It was on the larger end of average. It was also about as big as I felt comfortable taking in my throat or my ass. He was a better man than me to be able to take all eight of mine. "Oh f... frack! Your mouth feels so... God... blessing good!" He was breathing hard. I glanced up while rubbing my tongue along the sensitive head of his dick and I caught sight of my class ring on its chain around his neck. His usual cross was missing, though. That was unusual. Damian was a good boy. That's why he tried so hard not to use curse words. I had to push him to his limit before he lost control and would use vulgar language. He had gone through a period where he tried out nasty words during sex, although I didn't think he really liked it. I always counted myself successful when I got him to yell out "fuck" when we were... you know, fucking. It was kind of strange how Pastor Morgan's kids all had pretty foul mouths, but sweet little Damian was too much of an altar boy most of the time. His body tensed and I could feel his cock swelling with cum. I slid my hand slowly down his crack and rubbed his tight rosebud. Damian inhaled sharply as I worked my index finger inside him and found his hard prostate. I rubbed it only three times before he shot his warm, delicious cream inside my mouth. "FU... FA... FANTASTIC!" he yelled. "Suck me harder Steve! I'm... GOD DAMN THAT'S SO FUCKING GOOD!" I continued to play with his ass while he finished cumming. Given the fact that he'd lubed his sweet hole before we went out and wore his "come fuck me" undies, I knew what the boy wanted. I left my finger in his butt when I moved up to kiss him. He was surprised when he discovered that I hadn't swallowed his cream yet. It was still in my mouth and now we were sharing it back and forth. When it was all gone, swallowed by one or both of us, we took a break and lay there. I was working a second finger inside him, and he started unbuttoning my shirt. "You didn't even get undressed first," he said, still breathing heavily. I bit his lip gently and pressed more insistently on his prostate. "I like you being naked while I'm still clothed. It's sexy and it makes me feel powerful." "Does it make you feel like the man?" he teased. I shoved a third finger inside his hole. He was already relaxed enough to take me; I was just trying to get him excited again. I spread them out, stretching him a little. "Are you saying that I'm not the man?" He put his hand back on my rock-hard cock and rubbed it intently. It was snaking down my right pant leg. He licked his lips and replied, "Oh, I know that you're the man. Does that make me the boy?" I nibbled his neck. "Only if you want to be the boy. As far as I'm concerned, you're my sexy man. Even bottoms are men, Damian." "Hm, so I'm your sexy man, despite the fact that I'm mostly a bottom, and you're the man, the big man, the boss man... the main man." He was squeezing my dick with each phrase. "Is that what you want me to be, Damian? Do you want me to be your boss man? Do you want me to tell you what to do?" "Mm-hm. When you told my brothers that you would be making the decisions for me the other day, I thought I was going to cum just from your words alone." I pulled my fingers out of his butt and put them in my mouth. I licked them and made an exaggerated look of pleasure, despite the taste of lube still clinging to them. Then I smacked my lips. "Your sexy bottom is ready for me, which means I am about to fuck you so hard you'll be weeping in ecstacy before you know it." I moved my hand to the waistband of my pants to undo the top button, but Damian put his hand on my wrist. "Can you leave them on this time?" I gave him a puzzled look and said, "You want me to leave my pants on when I fuck you?" He nodded. "Just this once. I think it's kind of sexy to be naked when you're dressed. I want to know what it feels like to be... taken when you're still clothed." I whispered, "On one condition. Tell me what you want me to do." "Make love to me," he asked. I shook my head and said, "Not good enough." He exhaled sharply and smiled up at me. "Fine. Fuck me, Steve! Fuck me like there's no tomorrow!" I unzipped my trousers and worked my cock out the opening. I rubbed the head against his pretty rosebud and said, "Your wish is my command." Then I thrust inside him slowly, with just enough force that he couldn't resist me even if he wanted to. I pressed until I was lodged inside him all the way. He was running his hands up and down my arms. I wasn't sure if it was just because it was new, but this felt almost more erotic through my shirt. He was breathing heavily and his dick was beginning to come back to life. He moaned. "Your cock fills me up completely. When you're not inside me, I feel like I'm empty, like something is missing." "And your tight hole is gripping me like a glove. Your ass is like warm, velvety butter." He laughed and said, "That's a strained analogy." I chuckled and replied, "Fuck you, Damian. I'm not getting graded on my verbal skills right now." He let a bit of the campier Damian peek out, the Damian who'd been hiding all day. He batted his eyes and patted me on the arm. "Oh honey, you are definitely getting graded on your performance. Luckily for you, the verbal section is much less important than the sexual prowess and technique categories. You always earn a hundred percent in those parts of the test. But I am wondering how well you'll do on the written exam..." I laughed as I leaned forward and wrapped my arms under his shoulder from below and started thrusting with more force. "Is my prowess great enough?" I asked. Then I stroked his prostate with my cock a couple of times. "And what about my technique?" "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! That is some prowess, and your technique shows great promise!" I didn't think he was going to cum again just from getting fucked. After all, he'd just dropped a massive load in my mouth. So, I let go of his shoulders and put my left hand firmly on his thigh while my right grabbed his cock and stroked him until he was moaning again. I was holding back my orgasm by sheer force of will, so I was overjoyed when his noises became more urgent, and his hips started to buck against me. My cock was swollen, and it was threatening to explode, but, somehow, I held out until he started shooting a second, smaller, load. When his ass started clenching repeatedly, I came. "TAKE MY SEED! TAKE IT ALL! TAKE IT DEEP. FUUUCK! I'M CUMMING!" I don't know how many times I shot inside him, but we were both drenched in sweat when we were done. Once we were both able to breathe normally, I got out of bed and peeled off my now damp clothes. "Was it what you'd hoped for, getting fucked like that?" He nodded and stretched, barely suppressing a yawn. "It made me feel powerless, maybe a little inferior. It was good. Maybe not every time, but sometimes, maybe when I least expect it, maybe when it will show me who's the boss man?" I laughed and shook my head. "So long as you don't want it every time. The zipper was scraping the edge of my cock." "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think about that." "Don't worry about it. Just be aware that I may take you like that again sometime when I'm wearing my jeans. They have a button fly." Then I slipped into bed with him and pulled his tight against me, his back to my chest. It didn't take long before we were both sound asleep. Kyle It was time to take Dylan back to his parents' house. I couldn't think of it as his home. That term was reserved for my house, where he belonged. I texted my dad, "Not urgent, but I need to talk to you about Dylan. I need your advice on something big. Actually a few big things." Then I put my phone away and watched my boy pulling on a pair of plain white briefs. It was like watching him camouflage himself. He blushed when he saw me staring at him. He was so cute when his pale skin took on that rosy tint. And it was on every bit of his exposed skin except for a darker spot around his neck. I jumped up and lifted his chin so I could get a better look. "What happened to your neck?" Dylan shook his head and said, "It's nothing, Master." "Bullshit!" I yelled. I hadn't meant to make him flinch, but he did. I pulled him into my arms and said, "I'm not mad at you, but you need to tell me the truth." "It was Tommy, Master," he whispered. I made him look me in the eyes and said, "I don't want him hitting you. Do I have to beat the shit out of him?" He started crying. "No, please don't. I just have to deal with it until I'm old enough to get out of the house. He's always been like that, and you can't make him stop without everyone figuring out about us and then I'll get sent away to one of those conversion camps and I won't be able to see you and it's only another three months." I stroked his back to calm him down. He was having a panic attack like I hadn't seen in a year. "Shh. It's okay. I won't do anything if you don't want me to." He was holding onto me and sobbing. "I do want you to help me, but you can't. Don't you see? It's better to just deal with it?" "Okay, okay. We can wait until Saturnalia." I loved that Dylan was born on December 18th, the old Roman festival of Saturnalia. He was like my own special Saturnalia present, at least he would be this year when I would be able to make him mine completely. I'd have to wait exactly thirty-one days later for my birthday on January 18th to make it public. It looked like Tommy had grabbed him around the neck, but Tommy had done that to him before when they were fighting. There had to be something more to it or Dylan wouldn't be panicking like he was. I wanted to pound Tommy Morgan into a smear, but it would look bad if a senior beat up a sophomore. I held Dylan and soothed him until he stopped sobbing. And that gave me time to think. I couldn't lay a hand on Tommy, but Greg's younger brother Jonah was a freshman. He was at least as tall as Tommy and, unless Tommy was hiding more muscle than I thought under that fat of his, Jonah was a lot stronger than him. Dylan Kurt always knew how to make me feel better. I couldn't let him know that Tommy was fucking me now. I'd seen him punch the wall after our encounter with Mr. Williams. If Kurt started beating on Tommy, he could really hurt him, and I didn't want that. Not only would Kurt get in big trouble, but I realized that I didn't want to see Tommy get hurt. He'd bullied me most of my life, but he was still my younger brother. He was only fifteen years old, and he still had time to learn how to be a better person. It wasn't that late when I got home because it was a school night. Mom was already upstairs in her room, drinking, and Dad was sitting on the couch, glaring at the TV. I was just about to head upstairs to put my backpack down when Dad looked at me and pointed to the floor in front of him. "Get in here, Dylan!" I put the bag down on the landing and moved to stand in front of him. I was trembling. Horrific scenarios played out in my head. Had he found out I was gay? Had Mr. Williams told him about the video even after Kurt and I had let him do things to us. I'd sucked him off and he'd played with Kurt's butt. Hadn't that satisfied him? No, that couldn't be it. Kurt and I were going over to his house on Wednesday to do whatever he wanted to us. He was holding a letter in his hand. With a start, I realized that it was the certified letter he'd received, the one that had him and Mom arguing. He shook it at me. "Did you call your cousin Kieran and tell him about this letter?" I shook my head frantically. "No, sir. I don't even know what that letter is." It was amazing to me how quickly lies came to my lips when dealing with my dad. I didn't call Kieran. He didn't talk to me, but I had told Steven and Steven had called him. I still didn't know what was in the letter, just that it had arrived. Dad jumped up and slapped me across the face. I saw a burst of stars and fell down on the floor. He was screaming at me. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE? YOU'VE COST US A HALF MILLION DOLLARS YOU STUPID LITTLE FAGGOT PIECE OF SHIT!" I was trying to back away, but I scooted up against the TV. Dad pulled his belt out of his pants and grabbed me by the arm. He pulled me over and threw me across the coffee table onto the couch. "YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS, UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT. I'M GOING TO BEAT THAT FUCKING MONEY RIGHT OUT OF YOU." I was crying and trying to curl into a ball so his belt wouldn't hit my face. It felt like the leather was cutting into my flesh. And then it suddenly stopped. There was a loud crash as Tommy tackled Dad to the ground. Dad hit the end table on the way down and broke it. I'd never seen Tommy so red in the face. He landed on top of Dad and started punching him over and over again. "LEAVE HIM ALONE! DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HIM AGAIN YOU FUCKING PERVERT. I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU." The noise brought Mom stumbling down the steps. "What's going on here?" she slurred, so drunk she could barely stand. I put my hands on Tommy's shoulders and said, "You can stop now. He's not fighting back anymore." Tommy let me pull him off of Dad. I could see that Dad's face was bloody. He had a split lip and it looked like his nose was crooked. Mom stumbled forward and looked at Tommy's bloody fists. She was trying to collect her wits. She said, "I should..." Tommy turned on her and shouted, "You should just go back to drinking and ignoring all the problems. It's what you're good at, BITCH!" He kicked Dad savagely in his side, making him groan, and then he put his arm around my shoulder and started walking toward the stairs. He didn't even look back at her. He just shouted over his shoulder. "You can take care of him if you want, Mom. I'll take care of Dylan. Just leave us the fuck alone." He led me upstairs and walked me into my room. I was numb and kind of in shock. He started pulling my clothes off and looking at the welts that had already begun to form on my body. He was gritting his teeth. "I'm so fucking sorry. I said that I would stop him, but I froze. I knew he was mad, but I had no idea he was going to lose it like that." "It's not your fault, Sir," I said, looking at his bloody fists. I wasn't sure all the blood was Dad's. "Stay here and let me go get something to clean this off." I went to the bathroom and grabbed the disinfectant and... of course we had no bandages. That would have meant one of our parents had to be responsible enough to buy them. I wet a washcloth with warm water and then went back into my room. I knelt in front of Tommy and cleaned the blood off his knuckles. It turned out that it was mostly Dad's blood after all. But Tommy had some cuts on his hand that probably came from Dad's teeth. "It was my fault." I looked up at Tommy and said, "No it wasn't, Sir." I started to admit that I'd passed some information along to Steven, knowing it would get to Kieran, but he interrupted me. "Don't argue with me. It was my fault. I'm the one who was going through his desk. He probably thought it was you." He winced a little when I cleaned his wounds with the disinfectant. Then he grabbed my hands and held them tight. "I told you, Dylan. You're mine now and I'm going to protect you. I won't freeze next time. If he lays a hand on you again, I'm going to break more than his nose." I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't belong to him. I belonged to Kurt. But he was so sweet and... despite his shortcomings his heroism was making him seem handsome right then, like physical appearance wasn't as important as other factors. I swallowed hard and said, "Please don't get yourself in trouble, Tommy. He's still your dad. He can still make your life miserable." Tommy laughed and shook his head slowly. "I'm not afraid of him. He won't say anything because I know his secret. Now, thank you for tending my wounds, but it's time to get naked and get on my cock. Giving that asshole what he deserved has got me so fucking horny. I want inside that tight ass of yours again." I didn't have a choice. I took the rest of my clothes off while Tommy undressed himself. His cock was a lot bigger than mine, even if it was smaller than Kurt's. It was almost as big as Greg's and Greg was a senior. It was partially concealed by his paunch, but I could still see it well enough to touch it. I was touched by his heroism earlier and I wanted to show him gratitude. He only really wanted one thing from me, so I decided to give it to him with more enthusiasm tonight. I pushed him down gently onto the bed and climbed on after him. He put his hand out to stop me. "No, Dylan. I don't want a blowjob right now. I want to fuck you." "Trust me," I said. Then I climbed up to straddle him. I held his erection upright and rubbed the head against my hole. I had lubed myself early and I still had one of Kurt's massive loads inside me, so I knew I wouldn't have any trouble getting him inside me. Tommy was staring at me with a sense of wonder, like he'd never thought of doing it this way. I said, "You were my hero tonight, so just lie back and let me show you my appreciation, Sir." "Do it, Dylan. Sit on my cock." I pressed myself down slowly until I was sitting on his groin, his dick lodged firmly inside me. I still felt unfulfilled because he wasn't long enough to even press against the opening to my colon, but it felt good enough. Besides, I didn't need to feel good. I didn't even want to feel good while taking my younger brother's cock. It was better that way. I noticed that his paunch wasn't as visible when he was lying on his back. I also noticed that he had a lot of muscle underneath that layer of fat he carried. I could even see the individual tendons underneath. I realized that he'd have a nice body if he lost the flab. I rode his cock, and I kept a smile on my face the whole time. I ran my hands across his chest until he grabbed them in his own and held them tight. He started grunting. "Damn, Dylan. I was thinking you could live with me and service my cock even after I get married, but I don't think a real pussy could be better than yours. I don't even think it could be this good." I didn't know what to say to that. Was I flattered that he assumed my ass was better than any pussy out there? Damn right I was. Did I want to service my brother's cock for the rest of my life? That was an emphatic NO. "You'll find someone who will make you very happy, Sir." He grabbed my hips and pulled me down tight against him. "I already have, Dylan. Now take my load in your sweet fag pussy! FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING RIGHT IN YOUR TWAT!" He bucked like a bronco underneath me like he was trying to throw me off, but his hands held me tight. When he finished cumming, he pulled me down on top of him and kissed my head. When I tried to get up, he held me tighter and said, "Stay where you are. You don't weigh anything, and I like the feeling of you on top of me." He held me there for a long time, his hands gently tracing the welts where Dad had hit me with the belt. He wasn't trying to hurt me, but it did cause small jolts of pain. Finally, he said, "Get up. From now on, you sleep in my room. I have a lock on my door." It was true. Kieran had been allowed to have a lock on his door, and Tommy had taken his room when he moved out. I was still in the one we used to share. Since Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer, I followed him naked into the hall and then into his room. It was like he was flaunting his possession of me. Maybe he was spoiling for another fight with Dad. I'd have to convince him to tone it down for both our sakes. End Chapter 14 Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He has an average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah. ● Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
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Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 15 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded) ● Wishcraft (Concluded) ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 15 Wednesday after Labor Day Dylan I had set my alarm to wake me up 30 minutes early so I could shower, douche my ass, and get ready to service my younger brother. It was not a task I was looking forward to, but it was a task I was resigned to. I made sure to dry myself completely. Standing in front of the mirror, I took a long look at my face. I had a black eye, and my lip was split. I had bruises from Dad's belt on my arms from where I'd shielded my face. And when I twisted around, I could see welts on my back and my legs. I brushed my teeth and combed out my hair, checked my ass to see if I needed more lube, then I returned to Tommy's room. I closed the door and flipped the lock. Then I crawled back into the bed. Tommy's alarm was going to go off in five minutes, so I carefully took his cock in my mouth and started sucking it. He began stirring in his sleep, but he didn't wake for a few more minutes. His cock grew hard, and he moaned. Then I felt his hands in my hair. It was still damp, and I hoped that wouldn't piss him off. I probably shouldn't have worried. Getting his dick sucked was all too new for Tommy to think about anything else while it was happening. "Fuck, Dylan. You suck cock like you were made for it." I applied a little more suction and used my hand to fondle his balls. Tommy's hands became more insistent. He must be getting closer because he was pulling me tighter down on his cock. "Fuck! I knew Dad was full of shit. If there is a God, he made you just for sucking cock. FUCK! Keep doing what you're doing with your tongue." I continued massaging the head of his cock while I sucked him harder. I squeezed a little firmly, but not enough to cause pain. That made Tommy start bucking his hips and pulling my head down harder. I sucked as hard as I could and he yelled, "Suck that shit right down your fucking throat!" I continued sucking until he stopped cumming. Then Tommy patted my arm and said, "Come on up here. I want to be able to play with your ass until it's time to get up." I was glad that I'd decided to make sure I was always clean for Tommy because I had no idea when he'd demand my ass instead of my mouth and I was terrified of what he would do if I weren't clean enough for him. I moved up and lay next to him. He pulled me closer and said, "Don't be afraid of me, Dylan. I won't ever hit you unless you need it. So long as you do what you're told, no one will ever hurt you again." He moved his fingers along my crack. When he found my hole, he stopped and rubbed it. Then he pushed his finger inside. He wasn't gentle. It was probably more due to inexperience than to cruelty, but it still hurt. Still, I forced myself to smile. "I'll do what you say, sir. I want... I need to thank you for what you did last night. I'm afraid that... I'm afraid that Dad will get his revenge on you." Tommy thrust his finger in and out of my hole. I was glad that I'd lubed so well. I realized that when Kurt did this to me, he was trying to make me feel good. For Tommy, it was about his own wants and needs. At least I thought it was until he said, "Does it feel good when I play with your ass, Dylan? I want to make it good for you, too." What was I supposed to do? If I said no, would he try harder or would he be angry and hit me like he did Dad? I didn't want either of those two possibilities. I didn't want him to try to make me enjoy having sex with him. I didn't ever want to enjoy it. I wanted it to be bad, to be painful, to be so fucking repulsive that I couldn't ever get used to it. And as happy as I was to see him lay into Dad the way he had, he'd terrified me. If he turned on me and hit me the same way, I was afraid of what he could do to me. Tommy shoved a second finger inside me and said, "Answer me, Dylan!" I lied. "It feels great, Sir. You make me wish there was time before we had to go so you could fuck me, Sir." "GOOD!" he said. "I'm horny again and I don't think it will take too long for me to cum." He rolled me over onto my stomach and smacked my butt. I flinched and inhaled sharply. To his credit, Tommy apologized. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Does this still sting?" He ran a finger over a welt on my butt and let out a low whistle. "That looks painful. I'll try and be careful when I fuck you. Now let's get your ass up so we can do this." He lifted my hips and positioned me so that I was kneeling on the bed with my ass up and my head down. He moved between my legs and rubbed his cock up and down my crack. He knew nothing about foreplay, so he pushed his cock inside me as soon as he found my hole. Kurt was bigger, much bigger, but he always made sure I was ready for him. The pain was sharp enough to make me gasp, "Aaargh! Fuck, that hurts!" Tommy snarled, "Shut up and take it Dylan! It's your own damned fault if you're not ready to get fucked." It was like he had two personalities fighting for control of him. One was tender and sweet and unsure of himself, a young man who'd just lost his virginity and was grateful to me for helping him. The other was the bully I'd known all my life, the one who modeled himself on our older brother Donny. I felt sympathy for the first, but I was afraid of the second. Tommy shoved all the way inside me. His cock was a little more than half as long and wide as Kurt, so it didn't take long for me to adjust to the intrusion, but my hole itself was still throbbing as he pistoned in and out. I felt no pleasure from this fuck, and I didn't want to. I worked my ass muscles, squeezing when he pulled out and relaxing when he pushed inside. I was trying to get him to cum quickly, and I was succeeding. "Work that ass, Dylan! Work it like the little faggot you are!" His breathing was growing heavier and he was slapping my hips, heedless of the pain he was causing. "Take it, you little bitch! Take my load! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" He thrust all the way inside and then collapsed on top of me. He almost pushed me to the mattress with his weight, but I held on with my legs trembling. Finally, he stopped panting and pulled out. He pulled me next to him and put his face next to mine. I could have sworn that he was about to kiss me, but at the last minute, he pulled away and jumped out of bed. "We have ten minutes before we have to be downstairs," he announced. Kurt When I got home last night, I had a text from Dad asking me to wait up for him, so I sat at the small kitchen table, collecting my thoughts. When he came in, he grabbed a glass of cold water and joined me. "So, what's up, son?" I was sitting there deep in thought, so he waited. I was usually much more comfortable talking about sex with Steve, but he and Damian were upstairs in bed. Besides, this really was a question for Dad. He would know more about the issue. I let out a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding. "It's Dylan, Dad. Sometimes he scares me." Dad smiled at me and tried to make light of the situation. "Since he's a lot smaller than you, I assume you are talking about something more than just physical fear." "Yeah. I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid for him." Dad scooted his chair over and put an arm around my shoulders. "You're going to have to elaborate if you want me to help you out." "He has some... problems? Issues? I don't know what to call it. He has low-self-esteem, real low self-esteem." Dad nodded. "We've known this for years. He's had to grow up with Craig Morgan. With that kind of abuse, how was he supposed to gain any self-esteem?" I nodded. "Yes, I know, but it's more than that. I'm afraid that I'm going to hurt him. He won't use a safe word and... I'm afraid I'm going to take things too far, Dad." Dad closed his eyes for a moment and then replied, "Cory was the same when he first came to me. He was self-destructive. He had a need to be punished that drove him to recklessness. The secret that bad doms never learn is that it is the sub who is in control. A good dom allows the sub to lead the action while maintaining the appearance of domination. In your case, however, it has to be different. As his dom, you're going to have to be aware and impose limits on yourself. Dylan's low-self esteem and his self-destructive urges make it too difficult for him to have that power. Hopefully, he'll gain some self-esteem and get past these dangerous impulses as he matures and then he can do his part as a responsible sub." I looked around warily. "Where's Cory?" Dad replied, "I sent him up to our room. I told him this is private, so he won't come down and interrupt us." I said, "Good. I don't really want him to hear us. I'd hate to trigger him or something..." "I get that. Cory had his own issues with self-esteem and destructive impulses when he first came to me, but he has gotten past that now. And with your help, Dylan can get past it as well," he said. "What if he doesn't accept my limits?" Dad chuckled. "You're the dom, Kurt. When push comes to shove, Dylan is going to do what you tell him to do." I sighed. "That's a lot of responsibility." Dad pulled me against his strong chest and hugged me tight. "Being a dom is always a lot of responsibility, but even more so with Dylan because he is a special case. It's the only reason that I hesitated when I realized you were set on having him. If it's any consolation, I have faith in you. And if you're ever unsure, ask me. Just do it in private; you don't want to undermine your authority with your sub." "And you say that Cory has gotten over his need to be punished severely?" I asked. Dad hesitated before responding. "Mostly. Sometimes he still falls back into his old ways. What I do in those situations is to use my own judgment. I have clear lines that I won't cross, no matter how eager Cory is." "Why are they like that, Dad? Is it genetic?" He shook his head. "No... maybe... yes... I think it's a combination of things. It's probably at least partially genetic. Craig's younger brother, Kenneth, Kieran's dad, was almost as submissive as Dylan. He found a woman to tell him what to do, which I think helped him to manage his gay urges, but he was timid around Craig until the day he died. But most of it is probably the way they were raised. You know what Craig Morgan is like. Well, old Thomas Morgan, Craig's father was as bad as Craig. And Silas Lundgren, Cory and Bethany's dad, was no better." I understood. I knew Pastor Morgan well enough to know exactly what Dad meant. Dylan, Cory, and apparently Kieran's father, had grown up hating themselves for their own gayness. Suddenly I was overcome with emotion. I hugged my dad tight and said, "Thank you, Dad, for never making us feel bad about who we were. Sometimes when I look around this town, I'm thankful that you are my dad." He hugged me back, just as tight. "And when I look around this town, I'm glad that you and Steve are my sons." ********** The next morning, I was in a better mood. I had thought a lot about what I needed to do with Dylan. Dad had given me some good advice, but I was beginning to think that I should talk to Cory as well. Maybe he could give me insight into what worked for him, but I'd need Dad present. He'd told me that Cory still had problems from time to time and I didn't want to trigger anything. Dylan and Tommy had gotten into the car without incident. I always avoided looking directly at Dylan when he first got in the car because he had the habit of smiling so big that I thought he'd give himself away. Heck, if Tommy weren't in the car, I would probably have kissed him good morning, so I was no better at keeping secrets than he was. We hadn't gotten very far however before I noticed Dylan's split lip and black eyes. One was really dark and the other only lightly bruised. We were passing a field on our right, so I pulled over. Overwhelmed with anger, I slammed the car into park and got out. I opened Tommy's door and dragged him out of the car. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, TOMMY?" I yelled as I pushed him up against the car. I'll give him credit. The kid wasn't showing fear, despite the fact that I was taller and a hell of a lot more muscular than him. He stared straight into my eyes and said, "I didn't do anything, asshole!" Dylan had gotten out and come around to where I was pressing Tommy against the side of the car. I had him held there with all my strength, so it took a few seconds to understand what Dylan was saying. "It wasn't him, Kurt! It was Dad! Tommy stopped him!" I shook my head to clear my anger. I heaved a sigh and then backed off. "Okay then. Tell me what happened." Dylan told me the whole story. How his father had accused him of getting into his stuff in his office and telling Kieran about some letter. And then he'd beaten him, first with his fist and then with a belt. "And that's when Tommy attacked him," Dylan said. I let Tommy go. "Why would you do that? Why would you hit your father like that?" The boy gave me a smug look. "I didn't just hit him. I beat the shit out of him. I did it because Dylan is my brother, and my dad is an asshole. Why do you care?" I sighed. "Dylan's my bo... he's my friend... my best friend." I'd almost let the cat out of the bag on that one. I was going to have to be more careful. But if Tommy noticed, he didn't say anything. Michael Wilder I had my planning period coming up, so I'd gone to the teacher's lounge to get a cup of coffee. I had to fish around in the Keurig box for a plain black coffee. I needed to start bringing a thermos from home. These things were bad for the environment, but I needed my morning caffeine. I was just about to head back to my room when I saw Damian. At first, I didn't recognize him. His hair was hanging limp on his head, and he'd parted it on the side and brushed it back. He was wearing a plain blue shirt and khakis and he'd left his bracelets at home. And for the first time since he'd come to this school, he had a dejected look on his face. I'd asked him to tone down his dress and his affectations just a little, but I hadn't expected him to crawl into a shell. I needed to talk to him. But just as I was about to head in his direction, I saw something else that I had to deal with. Dylan Morgan was coming down the hall and it looked like he'd been in a fight. I had to check on him before I dealt with Damian. It wouldn't be the first time that he had gotten roughed up by bullies because they thought he was gay. I called out, "Dylan, come in here for a moment. I want to talk to you." Dylan was a small guy, a little less than five and half feet and very thin. I knew him well because he'd taken algebra with me twice before he passed. All the other students thought he was gay. In fact, I'd heard his own brother, Tommy, refer to him as "the fag". I had to know if another student had jumped him or if it was something worse. Dylan came into the lounge and looked around fearfully. He always looked like he expected to be attacked. It looked like someone had punched him in the mouth and maybe in the eye. I pulled out a chair and said, "Sit down, Dylan." He sat down and stared at the table. I sat down next to him. "Am I the first staff member to ask what happened to your face?" He nodded. "Whom did you have for your first two periods?" He whispered, "Mr. Crenshaw and Mrs. Martin." Damn! I thought. They were two of the worst. Martin was so old that she never really paid attention to anything more than a few feet from her face, and Crenshaw was a sanctimonious homophobe. He probably enjoyed seeing that the fag had been put in his place. "So, tell me what happened, Dylan." "I got in a fight, sir," he responded. "Not good enough, Dylan. Who did it?" I demanded. He sat there shaking. I could tell he was on the verge of tears, but he wasn't speaking. I asked, "Was it your brother?" "NO!" he said. "It wasn't Tommy. It was... Do you promise not to tell anyone?" I shook my head and put a hand on his thin shoulder. "I won't lie to you, Dylan. I may have to report this. It's my job. Do you feel like you can tell me who it was who hit you? I take my obligation to help you very seriously." He started crying then, openly and loudly. I had to hold him for a minute or so until he stopped. Then I asked again. "If it wasn't Tommy, who was it?" He whispered, "It was my dad. He was angry and he hit me." "Did he use his hand?" I asked. He nodded and said, "He used his fist and then he hit me with a belt." I asked him for more details. He told me a story about his father thinking he'd been in his office and taken a letter. I told him to let me know if he thought of anything else. Then I walked him to his next class. I called the Department of Child Services to report the incident, but I doubted it would do any good. This state had laws to specifically enshrine a parent's right to use battery to discipline a child. Whatever the state said, I knew my duty as a teacher, as a human being, and as a Christian. Dylan's father was a pastor at one of the Protestant churches in town, but he clearly didn't know the first thing about morality. I'd met him often enough in parent teacher conferences to be painfully aware of that fact. Dylan I knew school was going to be hell today, and I was right. No one asked me about the bruising except for Mr. Wilder, and he'd been so compassionate that I broke down and cried in the teacher's lounge. Sitting had been difficult, and my back and butt was itchy. I couldn't get comfortable however I sat. And to top it all off, Kurt said we couldn't hook up at school today. We had to meet Mr. Wilson at his house this evening when his wife would be taking the kids to visit her mother. Somehow, I made it through the day. I was relieved when I climbed into Mr. Groth's car. Cory didn't own a car of his own, but he drove this one to come pick me up at school. We hadn't even pulled out of the school lot, when he looked over at me and scowled. "Did Craig do that to you?" He'd hit the nail on the head. He acted as if he knew somehow. I had to ask. "How did you know?" He snorted and replied, "I know Craig Morgan. What I don't know is why he did it." I was getting tired of telling the story, but I told it again anyway. Cory seemed a little confused. He said, "I don't get it. He beat you over a letter? A letter you didn't even take? A letter he still had in his possession? It doesn't make sense. I thought maybe he'd discovered that you were gay." I shrugged and then winced at the pain in my back. "It had something to do with Kieran, and Dad said that I cost him half a million dollars." Uncle Cory pursed his lips and said, "Let's get you to work. I want to see what's causing you pain." My back, butt, and legs had been hurting me all day; it was maddening. I couldn't wait to get into Mr. Groth's office. I was going to ask if I could shower before putting my work clothes on. While we were walking through the parking lot, Cory put his hand on my back and then pulled back with a start. "Let me take your backpack, Dylan. I want to get you into the office quickly and quietly. Let's go through the side entrance." He guided me around the side of the building and in through a side door that led to auto bays. We crossed quickly and then went into the business office through the back door, and then directly into Mr. Groth's office. He was sitting behind the desk when we came, but he looked up when Cory locked the door. "What's the matter?" he asked. Cory set my backpack down on a chair and he replied, "I don't know. Cory, take your shirt off." I pulled off my tee and placed it on the chair. The cool air from the air conditioner didn't make my back feel better. It made it sting. Cory came up behind me and turned me around so Mr. Groth could see. "Look at that, Roger. That's Craig fucking Morgan's handiwork." Roger rose from his chair. He was even more calm than usual, and yet he seemed to radiate an aura of menace. I knew it wasn't directed at me, but still I felt it. He touched my shoulder and sighed. Then he walked around to look into my face. "Dylan... Son... have you been walking around with your back oozing blood all day?" I looked up and said, "I'm sorry, sir." Mr. Groth shook his head then he pulled me tight against his chest, being careful not to touch my back. "You have nothing to be sorry for." "I'll kill that son of bitch," Cory said. Mr. Groth shook his head. "There is a better way, Cory. Get a blanket on the couch. Get Dylan out of his clothes and put him face down. I'm going to call Phyllis McDonald." Uncle Cory helped me get my pants off and then my underwear, breathing heavily as he did. Then he had me lay down on the blanket. I asked, "What's wrong? How bad is it?" He squatted next to me and stroked my temple. "Shh. It's going to be okay. It looks like the welts your dad left on your back rubbed raw while you were sitting in class today and the ones beneath your waistband got the worst of it." "Who's Phyllis?" I asked. "She's a lawyer, one of Roger's friends. She'll help." I could hear Mr. Groth on his phone. "I know, Phyllis. But this is a big one. I need you and I need Josie." "Yes, here at the dealership." "Trust me on this one. We need a thorough examination." "As soon as possible." "Good. I'll see you soon." I looked over at him and said, "Don't I have to go to work?" Uncle Cory chuckled. "Dylan, you can't put your clothes back on yet, and it would be scandalous for you to go out front naked." Mr. Groth came over with a can of carbonated water and a straw. He handed it to Cory who held it for me to drink from. Steven After classes, I'd had an interesting text chat with Kieran. He'd spoken with some accountants. It sounded like he'd had a trust fund when he came to live with his uncle, who had received $1000 a week after taxes to take care of him. I knew for a fact that the bastard hadn't spent that money on him. Who knew what he'd done with it. And now that Kieran was eighteen, his uncle had tried to get his hands on the remaining money, which was a little more than half a million dollars. Craig Morgan, so-called man of God. Cheap, hateful, hypocritical, lying, cheating, son of a bitch more like. I texted a summary of what Kieran had told me to Dad. I knew about his secret vendetta against Pastor Morgan. I was just glad that Kieran had gotten ahold of his own money, although that boyfriend of his seemed to come from a very wealthy family. Damian had left his wallet on my nightstand this morning when he left to go home. I knew that he'd done it on purpose, so he'd have a reason to stop by on the way home. He'd texted me at lunch to let me know he was coming right after school. I jumped in the shower and then changed into some more casual clothes, shorts, and an Indiana Pacers muscle shirt. I wanted to be ready if Damian was in the mood for a little fun. I'd just finished making lemonade and cleaning up when Damian knocked at the door. I was a little shocked when I saw him. He looked... ordinary. He was dressed in drab clothing and his hair was flat and parted on the side. He threw himself into my arms almost as soon as I opened the door. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my chest. He was inhaling deeply, like he couldn't get enough of my scent. I was almost sorry that I'd showered. I kissed his temple and said, "Hey. It looks like you've had a hard day. Do you want to tell me about it?" He inhaled again and replied, "Yes, but do you mind if I run upstairs and shower? I need to get cleaned up because I need you to pound the gay back into me." I turned his face upward and kissed him gently. "Go ahead. I'll make some sandwiches and then we can talk." He kissed me back and said, "I love you, Steven." I didn't even hesitate this time. "I love you, too, Damian." As he ran up the stairs, he shouted, "I'm going to raid your closet for something to change into." He was only four inches shorter than me, so my shirts wouldn't be too long on him, but they would hang loose. I made us some turkey and Havarti sandwiches and grilled them in the panini press. Damian was always hungry after school. He was even more active than me these days. I didn't have a PE class anymore now that I was in college. I was going to have to join the YMCA so I could get some swimming in. Damian had managed to find the gayest shirt I owned. I'd bought it on a trip to Disney World the family had taken during spring break of my junior year. It was a rainbow tee with the Disney logo on it. I'd forgotten that I had it. It almost fit him. He'd also taken a pair of my shorts. They were long and baggy. He'd tousled his hair so that it was an artful mess atop his head. "I feel so much better," he said as he sat down to eat his snack. I joined him. "You look better, too. Do you want to tell me what's happening?" Damian finished chewing a mouthful. "Good sandwich, by the way." He hesitated a moment and then said, "I got called into Michael's classroom yesterday. He never said a single thing about the way I dressed or did my hair until he'd found out I was gay. Now that he knows, he says I need to be less obvious. I walked around all day like an imposter, like I was wearing a disguise." I sighed. "If necessary, I'll risk legal trouble and just tell your parents about us. I don't think they'd press charges. I think that the worst they would do would be to yell at me and throw me out of their house." Damian shook his head. "But it's only six weeks. I can endure it for six weeks, with the proviso that I come over here and you remind me that I am totally fracking gay." I pointed at his food. "Eat first; then I'll fuck you." He started shoving food in his mouth, which wasn't usual for him. Normally he chewed his food slowly, his face making it clear that he was really enjoying it. I laughed. "Slow down. I'm going to finish my sandwich before fucking you." He shoved the last bite in his mouth and downed half his glass of lemonade while he was shaking his head no. Then he smiled and slid down under the table. He crawled between my legs and took hold of the waistband of my shorts. "Enjoy your sandwich, while I enjoy your cock!" I lifted my hips and let him pull my shorts down. Then I stretched my legs out on either side of him and continued eating. I wouldn't have to eat fast after all. His mouth was warm, wet, and sensual on my cock. I groaned, "Oh fuck! Your mouth feels so fucking amazing. You are a talented little cocksucker, my love." He mumbled something around my dick. I couldn't understand a word, but it felt good when he did it. I was beginning to understand Dad and Kurt better. Sitting at the table going about the simple task of eating while Damian serviced my cock made me feel strangely empowered. For just a moment, I saw myself in Kurt and Dylan's fantasy, as a Roman slave owner casually going about his daily business while his slave tended to his sexual needs. It was a compelling fantasy. And Damian became a better cocksucker every day. He worked my cock like a professional, applying just the right amount of suction and using his tongue in all the right places. It felt great from the beginning, but most of that was on the surface where his tongue caressed the most sensitive areas. Just as I was finishing my sandwich, a tingling started deeper in my cock, in my balls, my taint, and the head. I ran my fingers through his hair and thought about how far he was willing to go to please me. He used to keep his hair almost as short as mine, but now it was long enough that he'd have to wear a cap for swimming. And he'd done it because I said he'd look cuter with longer hair. I wasn't wrong. I was hoping he would continue letting it grow out because it made him look like a surfer boy. He'd been shaving all the parts of his body not covered by his speedo since he joined the team as a freshman, but I'd mentioned that he would look good with the rest shaved bare, and he'd done it. And that too was a bit of a power trip. Damian ran his hands along my thighs as he sucked with even more intensity. The sensation in and around my cock continued to grow until I grabbed his head and yelled, "Oh yeah! Suck my cock, baby. Suck it hard. Here... it... comes! TAKE IT! TAKE MY LOAD. SWALLOW IT! RIGHT DOWN YOUR THROAT!" My whole body tensed then released. It was like my cock exploded. I sprayed his mouth and his throat with my spunk, and he swallowed it like it was the nectar of the gods. And he kept sucking as I slowly detumesced. When he climbed out from under the table, I jumped up and hugged him close to my body. "Do you feel gay again? Because sucking my cock, that's pretty gay," I teased. He sighed and melted into my arms. "I'm starting to feel it, but I still need you to pound me hard to drive it home, so to speak." I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder. It was moments like this that made me envy my younger brother. Not only was Kurt stockier and stronger than me, but his boyfriend was barely 120 pounds. Damian was 40 pounds heavier. I carried him into the living room and put him down on the couch. I grabbed the waistband of his shorts and said, "Now I'm going to suck your dick." He wagged his eyebrows and smiled. "I want you to pound me good, Steve." I yanked his shorts down, revealing his handsome and hairless dick. "I need a recharge, Damian." Then I knelt down to kiss his cock. He was hard and leaking, so I ran my tongue up the shaft, getting a good taste of his delicious precum. He moaned and arched his back a little. I licked around the shaft and then across the sensitive head. Then I took it in my mouth and sucked it hard enough for my cheeks to sink in a little. Then I relaxed my mouth and slid another inch inside before sucking it hard again. I continued to take him inch by inch until I'd taken his entire cock into my mouth. I alternated swallowing him into my throat and pulling back so I could tease the head of his dick. I fondled his hairless balls with my right hand and slipped my left down under his butt so I could rub his smooth hole. He'd taken long enough to get ready that I knew he must have douched his butt before coming downstairs. I slid a finger inside his already lubed hole and probed until I found his pleasure spot. "Oh yeah, Steve. That's the spot. You always know how to make me feel good," he groaned. "Mm-hmm." I tried to get out, I love sucking your dick, but it sounded like gibberish. Damian seemed to love the feeling of my throat vibrating on his cock. "Fu... flipping heck! You're ten times the cocksucker I am!" I continued to suck him until he was almost ready to cum, then I backed off and kissed him for a few minutes until his urgency faded, just so I could go back and suck him again. Each time I repeated the cycle, it took less time to get him to the edge of orgasm. I managed it six times. His body was drenched in sweat. He moaned, "Do it, Steve. Make me cum! I need it bad!" I brushed his sweaty hair aside and kissed him on his sexy lips. "Is that what you want now? I thought you liked being edged like this." "I do. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I do, but I can't handle it anymore. I need to cum... please?" "Your wish is my command, sexy stud," I replied. Then I swallowed his cock again and stuck my finger back in his ass. It was a matter of mere moments until he sprayed his load down my throat. "OH, FRACK ME SIDEWAYS! SUCK IT, STEVE! SWALLOW MY LOAD!" I continued to suck him until I'd swallowed the last of his cum. Then I sucked a little longer, until he started to soften. Then I got onto the couch so we could kiss gently for a while. Dylan When Phyllis and Josie arrived, Mr. Groth ushered them inside the office. Uncle Cory had placed a sheet gently over my butt to give me some modesty. Josie pulled a chair over to the couch and said, "Hello, Dylan. I'm Doctor Josie Kurtz. It looks like you have some injuries. Do you want to tell me what happened?" So, I repeated my story again. Josie seemed a little shocked when she found out that I was almost eighteen. "Oh, I am so sorry, Dylan. I've been treating you like you were younger." I whined a little when I asked, "Is it going to scar? Am I going to look terrible? She put a hand on my shoulder and said, "No, not if we can get you proper treatment." "What does that mean?" Cory asked. Josie looked over at him and said, "He needs bed rest. He needs to stay off his back. He needs the medicines I'm going to prescribe antibiotics, a pain-relieving cream, pain pills for use when the cream isn't helping. And he's going to need someone to wait on him, so he doesn't do anything to irritate the wounds. And most importantly, he needs to be kept away from the animal that did this to him." Mr. Groth got up and walked over to the couch. He looked at Phyllis and said, "What's the possibility of getting a judge to grant custody of Dylan to his Uncle Cory until he turns eighteen. It's only three months." Phyllis sighed. "We can try, but you know the laws in this state. If we give him proper treatment so that he won't be scarred, the right judge could rule this beating to be within the bounds of the parental exemption to the anti-battery laws. We'd need one of the parents to agree to be sure we got the result we wanted." Cory jumped up and said, "Fine! I'm going to visit my sister and have this out now." Cory I expected Roger to tell me to wait, that it was a bad idea, that he would handle it. Instead, he gave me a hug and kiss. "Be careful, Cory. Do you need me to go with you?" I told him no and then I grabbed the keys and drove to my sister's house. I'd driven by a few times, but I'd never been invited, and I'd never stopped and knocked without an invitation. Now I parked in the driveway. I had to stop and take a few breaths before getting out of the car. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Craig's car wasn't there, and Beth had totaled hers a few months back in a drunk driving incident. I knocked again and again until she answered. Damn she looked bad, I thought. Her nose was swollen and bulbous. She had bags under her eyes, and she was unkempt and disheveled like she had been asleep when I knocked, despite it being only 3:00 in the afternoon. She blinked at me and gasped. "Cory? What are you... why are you here?" I stared unwaveringly into her face. "We need to talk. It's about Dylan." She hesitated for a moment. I could see the pain, guilt, and shame on her face. Then she opened the door all the way and said, "Come in, Cory. I think you're right." The house was a bit of a mess, but that didn't surprise me. Dylan had told me that he was the only one doing any cleaning. She sat on a recliner and gestured toward the sofa. I took a seat and then said, "Did you know that Craig beat Dylan badly last night?" She shook her head and exhaled heavily. "I was upstairs sick when he did it. I came down as soon as I heard him, but Tommy had already put a stop to it." She must have been drinking because she was slurring her words. I was angry, but I couldn't help thinking how miserable her life must be for her to be reduced to this state. I hadn't seen her in twelve years except at a distance. I hated her, but I loved her. Before I was thrown out of the house � because her husband got caught kissing and groping me � she'd been the one who'd taken care of me. We'd been close, once. I rubbed my temples and sighed, "Beth, Craig hurt Dylan bad. He had welts all over his back and his legs. Going to school today rubbed him raw and he's been bleeding all day." She sat up and her customary scowl came across her face. "Where is he?" "He's at work, lying face down on a couch while a doctor attends to his wounds. Do you want to come back with me so you can see for yourself?" She stood up and replied, "Yes! Just let me get dressed." I waited for her downstairs. I knew it would take her a while. She hadn't even showered yet today. While I was waiting, Tommy came home. He stared at me for a few minutes then he put his backpack down on the dining room table. He walked into the living room and sat down in the recliner his mother had used. He stared at me and shook his head. "Unbelievable. We've never met, but I feel like I know you already. You look so much like Dylan that I can't get over it, except that you're kind of buff instead of skinny." "Well, I've heard about you from Dylan. You're Tommy, of course." He smiled. "And you are my Uncle Cory. Donny told me that you're a fag." I swallowed hard and replied, "That's not the word I'd use, but yes, I am gay." Tommy smiled again and then waved his hand like it didn't matter. "I don't care that you're a... that you're gay. Dylan's gay too, but Mom and Dad are too stupid to realize it. It's just another way you two are alike." We talked for a little while longer. I asked him about his childhood and his school. He was arrogant and had a little sarcastic cruelty in his tone when spoke. And I didn't like the way he was staring at me. I'd seen that stare a lot when I was out with Roger, other men watching me with hungry eyes that said they wanted much more than just to watch. I didn't expect to see that look in my fifteen-year-old nephew's eyes. When Bethany came back downstairs, she looked better. She'd showered and brushed her hair; and she was dressed in a classic dark blue dress with pleats below the belted waistline. She'd put on a pair of black pumps, and her earrings were silver studs with small blue crystals. Even Tommy looked surprised to see her dressed nicely. He asked, "Where are you going, Mom?" She grabbed her purse and said, "Cory is taking me to see Dylan. Apparently, your father hurt Dylan pretty bad last night." Tommy jumped up and said, "I'll come with you." Bethany shook her head. "No. I want you to stay here. I have some things I need to clear up with Dylan and I need to do it alone. But I'm proud of you, Tommy. What you did last night to protect your brother, that took courage." She wrapped Tommy in a hug, but he didn't reciprocate. She'd been so loving with me when I was younger. What had happened to her that her own children were so cool toward her? We walked out and got into Roger's car. We made the trip in silence until we reached the parking lot, but I was getting more upset as time passed by. When I put the car in park, I asked, "How could you do it, Bethany? How could you let Craig beat Dylan so badly that he's going to need a week to recuperate before he can go back to school?" She turned on me and yelled, "You have no idea the things I've protected that boy from, Cory! He's my son, and I have had to watch him like a hawk to keep my own... to keep my son safe!" I knew exactly what she was trying not to say. I couldn't hold it back. I started crying. "You betrayed me, Beth. You knew what he was when you married him, and you knew what he was doing to me, and you stood there and didn't say anything when Dad threw me out of the house." Her eyes grew moist, but she was made of iron inside. She held back her tears and replied. "I was married to him, and you have no idea how that failed to live up to the promises he made. Elizabeth was twelve. Donny was eight. Dylan was five. And Tommy was two. If I had said something, and Craig and I had split up, what would I have done, Cory? I had no prospects of my own. I had to stand there and watch the whole thing." We sat there for a minute or so. Then I said, "I loved you, Beth, and you cast me away. You wouldn't let me come over. You wouldn't let me see my nieces and nephews. It was like I didn't even exist anymore. It was like you hated me because your husband couldn't keep his hands off of me." She sighed. "Hate me if you want, Cory. I wouldn't have left you alone if you hadn't found Roger. I didn't cut you out because I hated you. I pushed you away because Craig wouldn't leave you alone. I did it to keep you safe from him. I'd seen how he bothered his own brother when his wife wasn't around. You were better off with Roger." I was almost convinced. "But you didn't want me around Dylan when you found out I was talking to him at Roger's house. You made Roger keep me away from him." She snorted. "Don't be dense, Cory! You're smarter than that. I knew you were with Roger. I made Roger keep you away because there was no way to keep it from Craig that you were seeing Dylan. I tried to talk some sense into him. We argued so loudly that I'm surprised the kids didn't hear us. I needed Craig to promise me that he would leave you alone. He did, but I couldn't believe him. At that time, I had Dylan and Kieran to keep an eye on. I couldn't let Craig get at you again... and besides, I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I'd done, even if I did, and still do, think it was for the best." I leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss. "I've missed you, Beth." She patted my arm. "Oh, honey, I've missed you, too." We got out of the car and went into the dealership. As soon as we got into the office, I saw Bethany the way I remembered her. She looked over and saw Dylan lying under the sheet. Josie had wrapped his wounds in bandages. She walked up and said, "Tell me the prognosis for my son." Josie stood up and said, "It's bad, but not too bad. He should make a complete recovery if he gets appropriate care. I've given instructions to Roger, but I can give them to you if you'd rather take him home, I can fill you in." Bethany shook her head and replied, "No. I have complete faith in my brother to treat him properly." She looked at Roger and asked, "Can I ask you to keep Dylan at your house for the next week. Bring him with you to church on Sunday." Roger nodded. "I'm pleased to have him, if that's what you want." She nodded. "That's what I want. And if y'all don't mind, I want to talk to Dylan alone for a few minutes." Dylan Everyone left, leaving me alone with my mother. She came over and stood next to me. She held out her hand and asked, "Can you get up?" I nodded and tried to keep the sheet wrapped around my waist. I finally stumbled to my feet and confirmed, "Yes, apparently I can." She turned my face to get a good look. "I'm sorry that I was drunk and didn't stop your father before he hit you." Then she sighed and choked back a sob. "I am a terrible mother. I know it, but I'm going to try to do better. He won't touch you again, Dylan. If he does, I'll hit him upside the head with a frying pan or something." "Tommy stopped him," I said. She didn't seem happy about that either, but she said, "Maybe Tommy will push him down the stairs next time." Then she smiled and said, "Let me help you get dressed." She picked up my underwear before I could remember that they were the kind that left my butt exposed. She held them up and put her hand through the hole. She said, "Please tell me that you wear these for Kurt, not Roger." I grabbed them out of her hands and said, "Mo-om! That's gross! Roger never touched me." I blushed deep red from head to toe. "I wear them for Kurt... but you already knew that, didn't you?" She nodded. "I did. So, you're gay. So is your uncle and... I guess your father is too. Maybe it does run in the blood." I said, "I'm confused, Mom. Are you saying that you don't care that Kurt and I are boyfriends?" She sighed. "I have to admit that I still think of you as a child, even though you're not. The idea of you having sex bothers me a little because you're so... Well, because you're not as big as Kurt and you look even younger than you are. But I am getting used to the idea." I walked over and hugged her, stumbling over the towel as I went. She hugged me back and said, "Do you need help getting dressed?" I wanted to say No, but I couldn't because the truth was that I did. It was painful for me to bend too much, and the doctor had given me some pain pills that were making me dizzy. I nodded and replied, "Yes, please." She sat me down and knelt to put my legs through the holes in my underwear. She was being understanding, but I didn't want her to see that I'd shaved my body. No matter how accepting she seemed to be now, I didn't think she'd be so tolerant if she knew the truth about our relationship. She'd probably freak out if she found out that I was Kurt's willing slave. I worked my underwear up my legs while I kept the sheet wrapped around me. Then she helped me into my pants and a shirt. Just before calling everyone back inside, she said, "You two are still minors. Don't do anything obvious until January 18th." I promised her that we wouldn't. Kurt Dad texted and told me to come pick up Dylan from the dealership. We'd scheduled a short day for Dylan at work anyway. He'd worked too many hours over the Labor Day weekend, so he deserved some comp time. We couldn't tell anyone that he needed that time because we had to meet Mr. Wilson, the audio-video tech from church. He had a recording of us having sex in the church and, if he didn't get to have sex with Dylan and me, he was threatening to show the video to anyone and everyone. I was surprised that so many people were in Dad's office: him, Cory, Dr. Josie, Dad's friend Phyllis, Dylan, and Dylan's mother. That was a surprise. She and her brother Cory were never in the same room together. Everyone looked serious, so I had to ask, "What's going on?" Dad said, "You're going to take Dylan home. His mother says he can stay with us for the next week while he recovers from his wounds." Dr. Josie brought me a large Ziplock bag filled with rolls of medical gauze, antibiotic ointment, gauze pads, and other first aid materials. "You shouldn't need to change his bandages before Cory gets home tonight. He'll be taking time off work to take care of him until he can heal. He has more complete instructions so you can ask him for the details." I put my arm around Dylan's shoulders, and he winced a little. I couldn't stop myself. I blurted out, "What the hell happened?" Dylan gritted his teeth. "It was Dad. I told you that he hit me with a belt." I pulled his collar aside so I could look down his shirt. I saw that he had gauze across his back. A quick glance at the front showed me that the gauze wrapped around his chest like a mummy. I lifted Dylan's chin and looked into his teary eyes. "Why didn't you say it was so bad this morning? I would have taken you to urgent care... or at least I would have called Dad and asked him what to do." Dylan broke down and started crying. "I didn't want to bother anyone, and I didn't know it was this bad... and I didn't want Tommy to know because he already beat Dad up for it and I was afraid of what he would do." I held his head to my chest, carefully avoiding the bandages on his back. "Shh. Don't worry about any of that. If you need something, it will never bother me." He placed his lips next to my ear and whispered, "meae deliciae." That sent a thrill down my spine. Our school didn't offer Latin, but Kurt had researched online and found that deliciae was a word ancient Romans used to refer to their favorite slave, the ones they used for sex. Mrs. Morgan put her hand on Dylan's shoulder and said, "Don't worry about your dad and Tommy. I'm going to deal with it somehow." Dylan said, "I don't care what happens to Dad, but I don't want Tommy to get into trouble." Mrs. Morgan scowled, and it was like a darkness spread across her face. "Don't worry about Tommy either. I'm done sitting back and letting Craig have his way. I'll make sure that it's not Tommy who gets in trouble over any of this. You go home with Kurt. I want you to obey your uncle, since I'm leaving you in his charge. But I want you to obey Mr. Groth as well." She saw me leaning against Kurt, and she saw Kurt's arm around me. She added, "And I guess I should tell you to obey Kurt as well, since it looks like that's the direction the wind is blowing." She kissed his cheek and then she looked at me. "Take care of my boy, Kurt. I'm trusting you, but God help you if you ever do anything to hurt him." I shook my head. "I won't ma'am. I'll take care of him, now and forever." Then she surprised everyone by giving me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She turned to Cory and said, "I'm going to need a ride home." Cory stood up straight and nodded. Dr. Josie handed him a prescription. "Pick this up on your way back home. Follow the directions please. The antibiotic is to ward off opportunistic infections. And the pain reliever is only if he needs it. The pharmacist will give you more detailed directions." I grabbed Dylan's backpack and then led him out of the office. I didn't care if everyone saw me with my arm around him. I had to find some way to let everyone know that he was mine and that I would protect him from anyone. I drove Kurt home and Cory drove his sister. It looked like the two of them were talking again. I used to hate her, but seeing her with Dylan today, and seeing the happy look on Cory's face when he looked at her, I started to feel sorry for her. If Dylan was as messed up as he was from being Pastor Morgan's son, how bad must it have been as his wife? Dylan turned to look at me. The look on his face said that it was painful for him to lean back against the seat. He said, "Master, what are we going to do about going to Mr. Wilson's house tonight. There's no way your dad is going to let me go out like this." I exhaled roughly then replied, "I'll figure it out, slaveboy. From now on, I don't want you worrying about anything. As your master, it's my job to do the worrying." Dylan smiled at me. "I want that more than anything, Master, but don't you think it will make things obvious to everyone?" I put one hand on his knee. "I don't know Dylan. People are pretty stupid, but I think things are going to change for us soon. Your mom knows now, and she seems to accept the fact that you're gay. And everyone at school seems to already think that you are." He put his hand on top of mine. "But they don't suspect you're gay, Master." He hesitated for a moment before hastily adding, "Or, bisexual, Master. Sorry." "It doesn't matter to me what they think. And I want them to know that you're mine; I just don't want to make an announcement. I want to let them figure it out without us trying to hide it." We drove back to the house, and I mixed up a smoothie for Dylan because I suspected he hadn't eaten all day. My suspicions were confirmed when he gave me a sheepish look and then drank it. I didn't leave him alone until he finished. The pain pills were making him tired, so I helped him upstairs so he could lie down on his stomach. I sat with him until he fell asleep and then I went downstairs. Steven had come home so I filled him in on what had happened. We spent some time commiserating about how much we hated Pastor Morgan. I texted Mr. Wilson to let him know that Dylan and I could not keep our appointment with him. Wilson: Sorry to hear that. I'll send the file to the pastor then. Me: It's an emergency. Dylan is hurt and can't make it. Wilson: Then you come by yourself. I was seriously angry. He was being completely unreasonable. Me: I have to watch him until someone gets here. Wilson: Come as soon as someone gets there. Me: Okay. Wilson: Be prepared to take his place. Someone needs to do that job for me tonight. If not him, then it will be you. Me: Fine. I'll be there. Great! I thought. I was going to have to let that man fuck me. And I'd never been fucked before. I didn't really want to get fucked at all, but if I didn't Mr. Wilson would share that video. My dad would be furious. He wouldn't hit me. He probably wouldn't even ground me. But his disappointment was almost unbearable, and he would stop treating me like an adult. I could imagine what he'd say, I'm disappointed in you, Kurt. I thought you were too mature to pull stunts like this, but I was wrong. You've not only embarrassed me, but you've ruined your reputation with everyone in this church. That's something you can't repair easily. And think about what you've done to Dylan! Thinking about what Pastor Morgan would do to Dylan sent cold chills down my spine. Come to think of it, Cory thought of Dylan like his own son, and that explained why Dad had always treated him like one of his own. If there was anything that could make Dad forget his moral opposition to corporal punishment, this could be it. He'd blame me, not Dylan. He'd told me that Dylan was irresponsible and that it was my job to keep him out of trouble. Not only had I failed to do that, but the video made it clear that I was the one who told him to get naked and masturbate on the altar. Damn! This whole situation really was my fault. I had to fix it somehow � no matter what it cost me. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 120 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps, six years her senior and the manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He is of average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscles, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah. ● Josephine "Josie" Kurtz. A doctor who's in a relationship with Phyllis MacDonald. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 feet tall and weighs 175 pounds. He is muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness. ● Phyllis MacDonald. A lawyer and friend of Roger Groth. She handles a lot of civil rights cases, including LGBTQIA+ cases. She's in a relationship with Josie Kurtz. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/taking-andre-down-the-rabbit-hole/taking-andre-down-the-rabbit-hole-1
Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2024 21:09:16 +0000 From: Dennis Subject: Taking Andre down the rabbit hole This is a fictionalised version of the truth. If you like what you're reading, or have feedback, please let me know on [email protected]. If you're not into kinky man-on-man sex, then what the fuck are you doing on nifty? For everyone else. Enjoy. And don't forget to donate to nifty if you can. Chapter 1 Andre and I met online. His profile described a thirty something bear, hairy, beard, about 1,75m long and 120kg. Exactly like I like them. I'm 47, smooth, 1,82m and 103kg, no facial hair. Not big enough to be a chubby but too big to be a chaser. Over the just couple of years I found that some extra kilos got me more chubby action so I wasn't saying no to McDonald's anymore. Anyways, back to the story. As I said, we met online. As an experiment I decided to give out free naked massages with a happy ending if "the customer" wanted it. I loved the idea of saying yes to any customer and just rolling with what they wanted. Andre replied asking for a massage, he listed himself as bi-curious and his profile was all vanilla. That said, the picture on his profile was showing off his belly and tits. Plenty for me to give him priority over all the other dirty men that replied to my ad, even if he sounded rather tame. We started chatting and got along. His responses were witty and he seemed serious so I asked him where I should go. This normally kills the deal, the person on the other side shoots his load and goes dark, but Andre was serious. He gave me his address which was and hours drive, but I decided it was worth it. The plan was to massage him and do whatever he wanted. When I arrived he was pretty nervous but definitely keen so I asked him to strip and lay down. His massive hairy body turned me on like crazy so I got naked myself and dribbled a rich amount of oil on his lovely hair back and got to work. After about 15 minutes I started to work on his legs and buttocks, running my hand over his asscrack which generated some tentative moans. Andre was very shy, so the moans encouraged me to spread his cheeks and tongue his asshole. This elicited more moans and some nice hip wiggle action. After another few minutes of this I told him to turn over, my favourite part of the massage. Still shy he looked at me and told me that he wanted my cum on his ass. My commitment was whatever the customer wants so after giving him head for a while I eventually shot my load all over him just like he wanted. It was nice but all pretty basic, not really worth spending a lot of time on. I was happy he was happy but I was more of a rum-pistachio-mocha-sorbet kinda guy, vanilla just isn't for me. Driving away from his house it didn't take long for my messaging app to chime. Andre was a happy customer and he wanted a repeat. Normally I'm the submissive slut but with Andre I got the sense that there was a lovely pig slut hidden inside of him so I wrote: "You seem more like the passive submissive type?" His answer didn't take long. "Yes, I think so." Little did I know what a great slut he would become. We hooked up again a couple of weeks later and Andre's passive and submissive nature became more apparent. He wanted me to bareback him, something I normally never do but we were both clean and we trusted each other so I fucked him. This time we ended up in his bed, but being some nice ass to mouth it was still pretty vanilla. If he wasn't such a nice guy I probably would've called it quits but he was funny and clearly empathetic. And his body was just perfect bear meat all the way. So we stayed in touch and decided to meet up again. The day before our third hookup my messaging app buzzed with a message from Andre. "I want you to use me like you want..." Interesting... but I was sceptical. He was clearly horny so let's see where this goes. "Do you want to be my slut slave?" "Yes" "Do you have any experience?" "No but it turns me on" Holy shit, Andre isn't vanilla after all!? My inner demon woke up because a real submissive slut turns me on almost as much as being the slut myself. "Okay Andre, but you have to realise that I'm really kinky. My sluts obey immediately and without question. If they don't, they get punished. Do you understand?" "Yes, that turns me on so much!" "Give me a safe word" "Tesla" Funny and he's got good taste. Okay, it's time to train Andre and see if we can find the depravity in him. We chatted back and forth and he didn't seem to have any barriers except for the same as mine, which were scat and real pain, for the rest anything seemed fair play. For the next date I shared my ETA and told him to lay naked, face down on the bed upon my arrival. Wondering whether he'd be the slut of my dreams, I opened up his front door and locked it behind me. I took my time to take off my shoes and hang my jacket, knowing that he'd hear everything. The stairs creaked as I made my way to his bedroom and there he was, his bulk spread out over the bed, his lovely ass slightly in the air with a pillow under his hips. Now, I love degrading and humiliating my slaves and knowing that it was all new to Andre was both exhilarating and challenging. I didn't want him to say Tesla, I wanted to see how far I could push him. Exactly for this purpose I had brought an xxxl red lingerie set, a string, bra and stay ups. Running a hand over his body I asked. "So, you said you'd do anything?" "Yes" he answered shyly. I slapped him hard on his ass and bellowed: "It's yes daddy, slut! Do you understand?" "Yes daddy. Sorry daddy." Mmm, this boy is talented. I run the fabric of the string over his ass crack and decide to see if he is willing to be degraded for real. "I've brought you something that will show off what a cockwhore you actually are. Put this on now." I registered some fear in Andre's eyes as he saw the little red set but he didn't hesitate. He gets up and struggles with the confusing fabric whilst I verbally degrade him. "Good little cockwhores wear lace for their daddies and you're nothing but a useless cumdump aren't you?" Andre's cock twitches as he answers yes daddy with his eyes to the floor like a natural cunt. As he struggled with the fabric I make fun of him, tell him what a useless whore he is and that his only job is to serve me. I can see him blush but he answers with consistent "yes daddy's". At one point he looks at me and I slap him hard on his ass telling him he is not to look at me until I give him permission. He instantly averted his eyes, apologised profusely, and continues to struggle with the unfamiliar garments. After a while my big chubby bear is standing in lingerie in front of me. No one will ever mistake him for a woman but he is undoubtedly a willing slut that is about to be transformed into a living, breathing fleshlight. Get on the bed with your ass in the air slut... To be continued...
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/small-town-slave-boys/small-town-slave-boys-11.html
Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 11 Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 11 Dylan I'd set my alarm for 8:00 a.m. because I needed to be ready for Kurt at 9:00 a.m. I was spending the night at his house and not coming back until after church on Sunday. But it wasn't my alarm that woke me up. It was Tommy smacking my face with his dick. "Wake up, faggot," he said in a low tone. I opened my eyes and said, "Go away, Tommy." He put one hand over my mouth and grabbed my nuts with the other. He was squeezing them so hard that my stomach tied in knots. I tried to pull his hands off, but I couldn't. He was too strong for me. Tears started pouring out of my eyes. "Listen to me, faggot," Tommy said. "I'm already bored with your pathetic attempts to avoid your responsibility. Your job is to suck my dick whenever I want to drop a load. I'm never going to be masturbating again. Do you understand me?" I couldn't speak with Tommy's hand over my mouth, so I nodded vigorously. He gave me a cruel smile and said, "That's a good little faggot. I don't want to hear any backtalk from you, ever. When I take my hand off your mouth, you are going to beg me to punish you for being a disrespectful faggot." He took his hand off my mouth. I said with a sob, "Please, Sir, punish me for being a disrespectful faggot." Tommy grabbed the hairbrush off my dresser. Then he pulled my briefs off. "From now on, you sleep in the nude, faggot. I want to be able to beat your nuts whenever you deserve it," he said. "Yes, Sir," I said. Tommy grabbed my dick again and positioned it, so it was lying on top of my legs. He'd pushed them together so my cocklet couldn't hide. He poked my dick with the brush and said, "You can cry your little faggot eyes out, but if you scream, I'll give you another five whacks." I nodded and said, "Yes, Sir." Tommy pulled back his hand and slammed by cocklet and balls with the broad backside of the brush. I clenched my teeth and whined loudly. Tommy smiled again and then repeated his action. Searing pain shot through me. I was in agony, but Tommy had no compassion. He struck me three more times. Somehow I managed to keep from calling out. "Good little faggot!" he said. "Every time I have to beat your nuts, I'm going to add one stroke of the brush, so you'd better learn to be respectful and obedient." "Yes, Sir," I replied. "Now get down on your knees and suck my cock like the faggot slut you are," Tommy demanded. I gave him the required, "Yes, Sir", and then sank to my knees and took hold of his cock. I was once again amazed at the size of his cock at only fifteen. I opened my mouth and swallowed as much as I could. At least he was smaller than Kurt and sucking his dick would help me practice on something smaller than my master. I licked and sucked, giving him the best blowjob I could. And he seemed satisfied for a while. Then he grabbed my head and shoved his cock all the way inside me. It poked the back of my throat, and I started gagging. Tommy didn't let up. He kept it lodged inside me until I choked. My eyes were bulging out when he finally let me pull off him. I coughed up thick globs of phlegm. "You're doing pretty good so far, Dylan. Take a deep breath because I'm going all the way to the root again in five... four... three... two... one!" he said. Then he shoved his cock down my throat again until my nose was buried in his public hair. He held it there until my eyes bulged out and my face turned red. I couldn't breath and I started to panic. Tommy let me up again and told me to breathe before sinking his cock into me again. He repeated this process a dozen times or more before he finally grabbed my head and pressed it tight against him. I could tell he was cumming, shooting right down my throat. When he was done, he pulled his cock out and wiped it on my face. I started to get up, but Tommy slapped me again and sent me sprawling. "Thank me for giving you my seed, faggot. Then you can get cleaned up for your boyfriend," he said. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you for giving me your seed," I said. Then I got up and cleaned my face. I got dressed and grabbed my bags. I didn't have to pack clothes. Kurt kept buying me stuff, so I had more than enough clothes at his house. I ran downstairs and saw Tommy listening at the door to Dad's study. Mom and Dad were yelling. "Shh," Tommy said. "They're arguing about that letter that came a week ago. It's something about money that doesn't belong to Dad." He broke into a big grin and said, "Mom called him a thief, and Dad said we wouldn't need the money if she weren't a drunken bitch. Um... $60,000 for Mom's rehab. Ooh! Insurance rates have tripled." He jumped up and moved away from the door. He was standing by me, like we were friends or something. Mom came storming out of the study. Dad came to the door and said, "What do you two want, snooping around out here?" "I... uh... I'm goingto work as soon as Kurt gets here," I said. Dad snapped, "Be back by 9:00 tonight!" Mom sighed and said, "He's spending the night at Kurt's house. Now that he's working, he doesn't have as much time to spend with his friend. And you don't need to be up his ass... " She trailed off and looked embarrassed, like she'd said something she hadn't intended. She looked at me and said, "We'll see you at church Sunday morning and then Sunday evening after your study session with Kurt. No! Tell Kurt that you're spending Sunday night as well. I know you're working during the Labor Day sale." She glared at Dad and then stormed out of the room. Dad shouted, "Fine! Do whatever the fuck your mom says. It looks like she's the bitch wearing the pants in this family now!" Then he slammed the door. Tommy and I looked at each other and shook our heads. They were always fighting, but it seemed a lot worse lately. "What was that about?" I asked. Tommy shook his head and said, "I have no idea. But just before she threw the door open, she called Dad a `cocksucking pervert' and then she yelled `pedophile' at him." The conversation ended because Kurt knocked on the door. My face lit up and Tommy just shook his head at me. I didn't care. I ran to the door, eager to get away from the house. Kurt led me back to his car and opened the trunk for my bag. He was dropping me off at work. I'd change there. "I'll get you after work. Dad says that we need to finish your English paper before we can go down to the basement," Kurt said. "I hope I can help with dinner tonight, Master," I said. During the week, there was seldom time for me to help Cory prepare the food. As much as I loved all the sex we were getting, I missed the servitude aspect of our relationship. I wanted to wait on the guys and clean up after them. "Then we'll have to work quickly. Greg will be over in time for dinner and afterwards we're going to be alone in the basement," he said. "Do you still want Greg to fuck you tonight?" I took a deep breath and then said, "I don't want there to be any confusion, Master. Greg is handsome, strong, and sexy. Any little gay boy like me would be happy to have sex with him. And I want to do it, but I only want to do it because you want me to, Master. My pleasure comes from giving you pleasure." "Damn, Dylan, you know exactly what to say. That's so hot. So, if I stopped downtown and told you to suck off a homeless guy living under a bridge, then you'd find it pleasurable?" he asked. "If I did it to please you and at your orders, it would thrill me to obey you, Master," I replied. "Okay then," he said. "Are you saying I shouldn't ask you anymore?" I nodded and said, "Yes, Master. The more it feels like I don't have a choice, the more it excites me." Kurt sighed and said, "Then I won't ask anymore. But you need to tell me if you really don't want to do something I tell you to do." "Yes, Master," I said. "I will tell you anytime I don't want to obey you." If Kurt noticed that I'd responded to a slightly different statement than he'd asked, he didn't let on. It wouldn't matter to me how much I didn't want to do something. If Kurt ordered me to do it, I was going to do it. I would only let him know if I changed my mind and didn't want to be his slave. And that was never going to happen. When we pulled into Groth Automotive, I ran to Mr. Groth's office and knocked on the door. It was Mr. Groth himself who let me in. My uncle Cory was standing by the closet dressed only in a light blue thong that was barely big enough to count as a posing strap. I could see his asshole gaping when he bent over to pull out a pair of dress shoes. "Sorry, Dylan," Mr. Groth said. "Cory and I took a little longer this morning than usual. We'll try to keep it behind closed doors from now on." "No need, Sir. The doors are closed and I'm happy to know that you're taking care of my uncle and making him happy," I said. "As happy a little faggot as you'll ever see, Dylan," Cory said. "Master keeps me happy and fulfilled." "Your uncle is the perfect submissive slave for me," Mr. Groth said. "No master could ask for more." "Will you teach me, Uncle?" I asked. "Will you help me be the best submissive slave I can for Master Kurt?" Cory put his hand on my head and said, "If my master will let me live openly as a slave at his house, then I would be happy to show you." We both looked at Mr. Groth in anticipation. He frowned and then sighed. "Fine," he said. "Starting today, after work, both of you will live as proper slaves in my house when you're there. Since Cory has taken responsibility for training you, he will earn twice your punishment every time you fuck up. Now get dressed for work. Here I'm the boss or Mr. Groth, not Master or Master Roger." "Yes, Master," we said in unison. We knew that his office, with the door closed, was just like home. Mr. Groth left the room to get started and Cory and I moved to get dressed. "You have hickeys all over your neck, your chest and your thighs," I pointed out. "Yes. I heard Master tell his son that he can't leave any marks on you until you're eighteen," he said, "but Master makes sure that anyone who sees me naked knows that I'm marked by him." I tentatively touched the ornate scar on his right buttock. It looked like a fancy RG surrounded by a double circle. "Is this another mark of his?" I asked. Cory sighed and said, "Yes it is. When we were younger, we were a little more extreme than we are today. He branded me as his property the very day I changed my last name to Groth." I sighed and said, "I wish Kurt could brand me." Cory gave me a hug and told me to wait a few months before telling Kurt that I wanted it. Then he instructed me on some basic slave behavior. Now that it was out in the open at home, he would be wearing his slave dress (more or less what he was wearing when I came in) whenever there was no company over. And I would call Kurt "Master"; and I would address the other Groth men as "Master Roger" and "Master Steve". He would do the same, except that he would call Mr. Groth "Master" and my master "Master Kurt". "You must obey every order or request from any of the masters," Cory said. "And if you don't we'll both be punished." "Yes, Sir," I said. "NO!" Cory said. "Call all free people `Sir' or `Ma'am', but slaves call one another by their first names." "Yes, Uncle Cory," I said. "And forget that I'm your uncle," he said. "We're equals now." Damian When the alarm went off, my hand automatically moved to hit the snooze, but I felt a sharp pain in my ass making me jump. Steven stood there holding a belt looped in half. "Get out of bed, Slave, and on the ground. Kiss my feet until I tell you to stop!" he said. For a moment, I forgot that I'd made him promise to treat me like a slave today. He raised the belt again and I rolled onto the floor and pressed my lips against his large feet. My lips trembled. The belt had hurt, but I felt excited. Ever since I'd seen Dylan being so subservient to Kurt, I dreamed about doing the same thing for Steve. I wasn't sure if I wanted it for the long term, but I knew that I wanted to try it and see what it felt like. I was still kissing Steven's toes when the belt crashed down on my butt again. "Dammit! I was doing what you told me to do," I said, rising to my knees. "I'm going to ask you a question, Damian. Do you want to be my slave today?" he asked. I nodded and said, "Yes, Sir." "Then your safe word is "snickerdoodle". If you say "snickerdoodle" the game immediately ends, and we go back to just being lovers. I won't be angry, and you won't ask me again to make you my slave. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes, Sir!" I said. "It's "Master", Damian. Call me "Master"," he explained. "Yes, Master!" I said. "Follow me into the bathroom. You're going to wash me in the shower, Slave," he said. I rose to follow him into the bathroom, but he stopped and slapped my face. "Get down on your knees and crawl, slave. I didn't tell you to rise. Unless I give you different instructions, you will remain on your knees in my presence," Steven said. The look on Steven's face was grim without a hint of a smile or a trace of affection. He snapped his fingers and said, "Heel, Slave." I followed him on hands and knees. Steven � I mean my master � was even more forceful and charismatic than I'd noticed before. My dick was hard, but that could have been because it was morning, and I still hadn't taken a piss. Nah! I thought. Following Master Steven's orders was exciting and when he'd slapped me, the thrill ran all the way down to my crotch. Steven � Master Steven � and I had slept in the nude last night, so we were both still naked. As far as I was concerned, I had the second-best view in the world. I could see Master Steven's long brown legs and that tight round ass of his as he walked. It was mesmerizing. I wanted to lick it. Maybe he would let me rim him later. The only better view was the one I got when he turned to face me after turning on the water. He kept his pubic hair trimmed, which made his seven-and-a-half-inch cock look even bigger than it was. And the rest of his body was waxed like mine. His legs and torso were a classic example of a "swimmer's build", all long, lean muscle without a trace of excess fat. His flawless skin was the color of light bronze, much darker than his German American father, but much lighter than his brother Kurt. And his face... He had the sharp cheekbones and aquiline nose of a powerful warrior. He kept his black hair cut very short. "Do you like what you see, Slave?" he asked with a smirk. "Yes, Master!" I replied. "Your body is perfect, and I'm humbled to be able to serve you." "You are too fucking cute, Damian, with your perfect blond boy next door innocence and your eagerness to please," he said. "I feel guilty, like I'm corrupting you with my debauchery every time I touch you." He bent down and kissed me gently. Then he added, "This is a game we're playing today, Damian, and we're playing it because you wanted it. But it's a serious game. If you want to quit, let me know, but so long as we're playing I'm going to be brutal and harsh. It's likely I will hurt you. I'll feel bad about it, but I respect you enough to play it to my best ability." "Yes, Master," I said. Steven shook his head and smiled, then said, "Get in the shower" I started to stand, but then remembered that Master Steven had ordered me to stay on my knees. I crawled into the shower. Master slid the door closed and said, "Looks like someone remembered his orders. I guess I can't spank you this morning then, since you were so obedient." I was smiling inside. I could beat him at this game. I'd show him that I could be a good slave. Then Master grabbed me around the waist and held me tight. He smacked my ass hard. It was wet and the blow stung. He gave me twenty-five blows, each sharper than the last. Then he stood up and said, "But then again, I can spank you if I want to. After all, you're a slave and I'm your master. I own you and I can do anything I want to do with you." He was trying to make me quit, but I was determined to see it through. Dylan was a tiny little thing compared to Kurt and he was able to take everything Kurt sent his way. I was going to show that I was at least as tough as that sexy little twink. "Yes, Master," I said. "My body is yours. It's your right to do whatever you want with it." Master Steven had me soap him up with a washcloth and clean him. I took special care with his cock and balls. I wanted to clean his manhood with my mouth, but I decided to wait for orders. Once I'd cleaned him completely, he turned off the water and said, "Dry me with the towel." I dried his body. His cock became fully hard and erect. I stared at it and licked my lips. Like his brother, but unlike me and my brothers, he still had his foreskin. I'd been fascinated the first time I'd seen it, but I was used to it now. I thought it made him look even sexier. Master moved toward the door and I crawled after him. "Not yet, Slave," he said. "You clean yourself first and then you join me in the room, kneeling at my feet. You can stand while you clean yourself." "Yes Master," I replied. Master Steven nodded and said, "There are a few rules you need to remember. First, slaves use cold water. Second, slaves use their master's old washcloth and towel. Third, you have ten minutes total and that includes douching your ass. And fourth, slaves sit when using the toilet and they sit directly on the rim. Now repeat the rules." I thought for a couple of seconds and said, "I need to shower in cold water, using your washcloth and towel. I only have ten minutes to complete everything and then crawl in to kneel at your feet. I have to douche my ass. I have to sit on the rim of the toilet bowl when pooping or peeing. Master!" "Good," he said. "I'll start the timer on my phone once I sit down in the other room. And I'll get the belt ready." He left and I rushed to follow his instructions. I hated cold water, and the shower was very uncomfortable, but because I hated it, I think I showered in record time. I pissed in the shower to save time. Douching took a little longer. I was afraid that I'd have to use cold water for that too, but Master Steven had run the sink full of hot water and set a bottle of neutral saline in it. He insisted that it was healthier for my insides. But for me the most important part was that it was just the right temperature to feel good when I used it. I hoped I was making good time when I crawled into the room and knelt at Master's feet. I pressed my face to the ground and kissed his feet. Steven I'd been trying to make Damian back out of the game. It disturbed me how excited I got when a guy became submissive and groveled at my feet, how it sent a jolt straight to my cock when I slapped him or spanked him. Intellectually, it wasn't my thing. It was Dad's and Kurt's. But on a deeper level, it aroused me, and I wasn't completely comfortable with that. I'd chosen "Snickerdoodle" as Damian's safe word because that was his favorite cookie and I'd be able to make a play on words all day. But I'd seen it in his eyes. He wasn't going to back down, no matter how mean I was to him. The question was, how mean could I be? Damian was pretty, not in an androgynous way like Dylan, but in a boyish way that promised he would be a very handsome man when he fully matured. I got lost in his big blue eyes, like a man drowning in the ocean. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to hold him and cuddle him. I wanted to go out in public, arm in arm daring anyone to say anything, knowing that all of them would be envying me. I counted myself lucky. Kieran had been the same way. He was beautiful, paler than Damian with red hair and eyes like cornflowers. Damian's were more like blue ice. I hadn't ever had Kieran, but I'd masturbated a lot thinking about him. And when it became clear that I wasn't going to ever get him, I didn't have to look far to find someone almost as handsome, and yet even more handsome in some ways. That was Damian, and he was already in love with me. I checked my phone while I was waiting. I had a text from Dylan. Taking a short break at work. Thought you should know. Dad received a registered letter last week addressed to Kieran. Heard Mom and Dad arguing. Sounds like Dad didn't let Kieran know. Mom called Dad a thief. Don't know what it's about. Kieran doesn't talk to me. Thought you could let him know. I shot off a text to Kieran. He was terrible about checking his phone. He always had been, and he was getting worse. When he didn't text back immediately, I put my phone away. Damian was crawling out of the bathroom. He came over and started kissing my feet. I had no idea what to do with him next. At home, Dylan did the housework, and we could always find a project to keep him busy. What could I do with a slave in a hotel room? I didn't want to just punish him all day. "I'm going to lie down on the bed and you're going to give me a long, slow blowjob, Slave," I said. "Yes, Master!" he replied with excitement. I laid back and Damian scurried to take his place between my legs and to start sucking. The boy knew how to suck cock. I never felt his teeth as he swallowed me almost to the root. He was looking up at me with his pretty eyes. When I smiled at him, he forced himself down all the way on my cock and started choking. When he tried to back off, I put my hand on his head to hold him in place. "As a slave, it's your responsibility to take your master's cock," I said. "I'm going to take my hands off your head and you're going to do your duty. And if you don't, I'm going to beat your ass with my belt, and I promise that you won't like it." Damian squirmed a little at the thought, but he continued to worship my cock like the slave he was pretending to be. He didn't need my encouragement to keep trying to take it all. When he started choking, he held it as long as he could, then he pulled back to catch his breath before doing it again. And each time he took more down his throat and held it a little longer. I did my best to hold back my orgasm, but Damian was damned good. His mouth worked magic on my cock. I let go and allowed the sensation to overwhelm me. My shaft was full to the bursting point with cum and my nuts were pulling up tight. And then the contractions began. I grabbed Damian's head and held him tight against my groin. "Take my seed, Slave!" I cried. "Take it all!" I shot four good size loads down his throat while he sputtered and gagged. Then I let go of his head to see what he would do. He didn't pull away. He slid my cock out of his mouth and continued sucking and licking gently until he'd swallowed the last drop. I wanted to grab him, to kiss him, to throw him on the bed and to suck his throbbing cock in return. But Damian chose this game, not me. "You did a good job, Slave, so I'm not going to beat you this morning," I said. "Now stand up so you can tidy up this room." Cory Life had been different since Roger told the boys about us. Instead of us stealing moments in his office and after work in my apartment, I was spending the night at his house. It was what he'd been promising me all along, that we would live together, that I would be able to really be with him. He was my master, but he was also my lover. And one day he'd be my husband. Even state law wouldn't be able to prevent it. And now I was able to be part of Dylan's life. I'd missed out on being an uncle to him, his sister, and his brothers. Of course, his mother didn't know. She wouldn't approve. God, how I hated her; God, how I missed her. For nearly eighteen years she'd been more of a mother to me than my own mother had been. For the eight years after our mother had died, Bethany had been my only mother figure. How was it that I could take such joy in her misery being married to Craig Morgan, and then feel so guilty about it? How could I hate her so much and still sometimes feel hollow inside when I remembered how good she was to me? How she used to hold me when I cried and how she used to cover up for me with dad whenever he came too close to discovering that I was gay? From everything Cory and Roger had told me, she wasn't as good a mother to any of her own children as she had been to me. Maybe I'd been so much trouble she'd worn herself out and had no energy left over for them. Supervising Cory at work was a joy. He was so sweet and so cute in his dress shirt and tie. And everyone in the office loved him, some a little too much. I'd have to warn Fred off without letting the cat out of the bag about him and Kurt, but Barb could continue to treat him like a pet. His own mother wouldn't do it and he needed to have that experience in his life. And he was a good worker. Once you gave him a task, he kept at it, and boring jobs didn't seem to bother him at all. I hadn't been like that when I was younger. When I first started at Groth Automotive, I was a total fuck up. The place wasn't so gay friendly back then and I'd almost gotten the crap beat out of me for coming on to some of the guys. One of them was Darren Nelson. He still worked here, and he'd come around. He'd even taken his niece in when her parents threw her out for being gay. I had to give credit to Roger for that. He'd set the example. He'd also made me change. After rescuing me from the imminent beating, he'd taken me into his office and shown me the error of my ways. Twelve years later, I could still remember it in detail. ********** Roger frog marched me into his office and shut the door. He sat me down in a chair and leaned back against his desk. "What the hell is wrong with you, Cory?" he asked sternly. "I don't know, Sir," I replied. "I... I'm just lonely and... er... horny... those guys seemed to like it when we were talking and then they got mad. They asked me to meet them out back, but I didn't follow them. I swear! It was them!" At some point I'd started crying. Roger pulled me out of the chair and into his arms. He gave me a fatherly hug which, up to this point, I'd only ever experienced in my imagination. I started sobbing and I told him everything. About how I was being harassed by my brother-in-law, getting thrown out of the house, my father calling me faggot and throwing my clothes into the front yard and how my sister had stood there scowling at me the whole time." I didn't know when Roger had sat down in his comfortable desk chair and pulled me into his lap. And I wasn't sure exactly when I started staring into his eyes, but when he kissed me the first time, I melted into him. His kisses became more passionate, and I submitted to him completely. Roger shoved everything off his desk onto the floor and sat me on it. Then he pushed me back and ripped my shirt open. He wasn't gentle; he was like a man possessed. He later confessed to me that it was my vulnerability and my submissiveness that had triggered him. It was the nearly three years since his wife had passed, with no sex, aside from masturbation, that made him so aggressive. Whatever the reason, the more dominant he became, the more submissive I became. When he was biting my nipples, I cried out, "Yes! Please, Sir! Hurt me, I need it!" He didn't really hurt me, although my lips and my nipples were red and swollen and I had a long line of love bites on my neck. He didn't have lube, so he didn't even try to fuck me that first time, he just rubbed his massive cock against my own until we both came. He had nine inches to my own four. His shaft felt like a battering ram crushing my smaller dick. Both our lives changed that night. Roger helped me get a studio apartment and we had sex every day. ********** I shook my head to clear the daydream and went back to my own job. I wasn't a manager. I was Roger's personal assistant. I handled all his appointments and correspondence and everyone in the office knew that any directives I gave them came straight from the boss. I loved that I took care of him at work, and I saw to his sexual needs. I even went over to his house to clean it several nights a week. It made our relationship more real to me. He was my man and I was...his wife, his slave, his houseboy, sometimes even his son. Dylan I worked all Saturday morning, but I was done by noon. Since Mr. Groth and Cory were still working, Kurt came to pick me up. Greg was in the car with him, so I had to sit in the backseat. When we got there I went straight to the bathroom to shower, douche, and lube myself. Before I'd run upstairs, Kurt had said, "Put on one of your fashion jocks, a pair of booty shorts and nothing else. We're going to do this before Dad and Cory get home." I took special care to make sure I was completely clean inside. And then made sure that I'd packed as much lube inside me as I could. I'd felt a little stubble, so I ran the razor over my body carefully and then applied a lot of lotion to prevent razor burn. When I got downstairs, Kurt and Greg were already sitting in the living room, side by side on the sofa. I walked over and knelt in front of Kurt. I pressed my face to the carpet and kissed his shoes lightly. I hated the taste of his shoes, but I loved doing it for him because of how much I hated the taste. I felt like it was an expression of my devotion and submission. "Damn! Dylan really must love you," Greg said. "He's always submissive and obedient, but this is extreme, dude!" Kurt snapped his fingers twice, which was the signal for me to kneel with my back straight, knees spread and hands behind my neck. That position exposed my thin chest and put it on display. I knew to keep my eyes averted until he told me to look at him. "He's not just my boyfriend, Greg. He's my willing slave," Kurt said. Greg heaved a great sigh and said, "That's one of the hottest things ever, man." Kurt must have been wanting to show off his control over me. He snapped his fingers and said, "Shoes." I took one of his big feet in my hands and kissed the shoe again. Then I carefully removed it and set it aside. I pressed my face against his sweaty sock and breathed in the aroma. My little cocklet sprang to full erection and pressed against those booty shorts I was wearing. I pulled the sock off and placed it inside his shoe. Then I kissed his feet. Unlike his shoes, I loved the taste of his feet. They were firm and muscly, with smooth, brown skin on the top and lighter skin on the bottoms. Once I'd kissed them all over, I started to lick them slowly and sensually. It was as much for my pleasure as for his. I was leaking precum and the front of those little shorts I wore were now obviously wet. I heard Greg give out a little moan and then Kurt said, "Don't touch yourself. Just let your horniness build so that Dylan can take care of you." I moved on to Kurt's other foot and gave it the same treatment. Usually, I was allowed to kiss my way up Kurt's legs after serving his feet so that I'd get to suck his big cock, but today, he said, "Do Greg's feet next." I scooted over in front of Greg and picked up his foot. His shoes were scuffed and a little dirty. My first instinct was to chastise him mentally, but then I remembered how Kurt's shoes had looked before I started taking care of them for him. I tasted dust when I kissed them. I treated his shoes with the same respect I did my master's. His feet had a stronger and more sour smell, but it didn't turn me off. It was strangely arousing, the scent striking straight to the root of my cock. And the taste of his feet was more sour as well. "Damn! I should have washed my feet, dude," Greg said. "I could smell them when your boy pulled my shoes off." "Nah. Dylan loves the smell of sweaty jock feet. The last time he got a taste of mine after a game, I thought he was going to shoot his little load right then and there," Kurt replied. He wasn't lying. I loved the taste of his body after a long, hard game. He and Kurt must have been tossing the ball around in the sun this morning while I was at work. It wasn't the same, but it still made the experience better for me. I loved the feel of Kurt's body beneath my tongue, but the taste was so much better when I could taste... him. "Do you want him on his back, on all fours or do you want him to sit on your cock?" Kurt asked. "Wait! I'm going first?" Greg asked. "I love you, bro, but If I go first, his skinny butt will be gaping so much that you won't get the full effect," he said. "I want you to see why fucking an ass is so much better than fucking pussy." "Shut up, dude," Greg said. "You're not that... shit! You're probably right. I've never seen that monster of yours hard, but it's big enough soft. Um... which do you suggest? I've never done this before." "Stand up and take your shorts off, slave boy," Kurt said. I couldn't obey him fast enough as far as I was concerned. In an instant I stood before these two sexy guys stripped down to just a fashion jock. Greg tentatively reached out and squeezed my little cocklet. I oozed more cum into the pouch. "He's really fucking small, but he seems to be enjoying it," Greg said. "Do you want to see it?" Kurt asked. "I was going to have him keep his jock on so that you didn't freak out when you saw his tiny little erection." Greg nodded and said, "Yeah. I think I want to see it. I've committed to doing gay shit this afternoon. I may as well make it as gay as possible." Kurt Greg was really getting into this scene. His eyes were almost glazed over. He was dating Sheila Beck right now. She was pretty enough, but Dylan was prettier. I knew it, and I was sure that Greg knew it as well. And what had he meant when he said as gay as possible? A brief image of his meaty ass impaled on my cock flashed before my eyes, but I dismissed it. I pulled Dylan over my knees and began fingering his ass so that Greg got an unobstructed view. Dylan moaned and wiggled on my lap. The show was partly for Greg's benefit, but I was really checking to see how well-prepared Dylan was. I got more than a little harsh with him verbally because he loved it and got off on it even more than I did, but I would never hurt him or allow him to be hurt for real. "Does it feel like a pussy?" Greg asked. "Better. It's tighter and my boy can suck your finger � or your cock � inside him with just his ass muscles alone," I said. Greg raised his eyebrows and smiled broadly. "Can I try it?" he asked. I pulled out and said, "Go for it, dude." Greg stuck his finger inside Dylan's slippery hole. He sighed and said, "That feels amazing. It's hot, wet, and tight. And you're right! His ass is sucking on my finger." I ran a hand down Dylan's back and patted him gently on the butt to let him know how proud I was of him. I looked at Greg and said, "If you want to make this experience as gay as possible, you'll want him on his back. That way you can see his face and you can long dick him all you want." "That's what I want!" Greg said. I slapped Dylan's ass hard enough to leave a red mark, making his little cocklet throb against my leg. "Go get the fuck blanket and put it down on the floor." That's what we called the blanket we'd used the night before Greg had seen us through the window, so Dylan knew what I was talking about. Without Steven here, I had to be the responsible one who kept cum off the carpet. Greg reluctantly pulled his finger out of Dylan's warm hole. I saw him examining it for any sign of brown streaks. Of course, he didn't find any. Dylan was a very clean boy. And his little round butt was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen bouncing as he ran off to get the blanket. "Look," Greg said. "I've been thinking about this for days and your boy has a sexy butt. I don't want to hear any shit if I don't last too long when he gets back. I mean, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it since he's a guy, so I've been... you know... edging it a little and not masturbating. I don't think I'm going to have any trouble keeping it up, but now I'm more worried about popping off as soon as I'm inside him." I put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I pop off as soon as I get inside him all the time. Then I just rest a few minutes and go again. If you're too fast, you can get your energy back watching me fuck him and then take a little longer on round two." "Cool," Greg said, obviously relieved. Dylan came back fast. He had the fuck blanket, a towel, and a pack of wipes. I turned him over my knee and gave him a few hard smacks on the bottom, then sent him back to grab the lube. Just in case, I thought. It turned out that we did need it later. Once Dylan was on his back on the blanket, I urged Greg to get his clothes off. I took mine off as well. Dylan kept looking back and forth between us, his eyes wide with excitement and his little cocklet pressing hard against the pouch of his jock. He was obviously horny and the look on his face told me that he was in gay boy heaven. Greg knelt between Dylan's legs and took hold of the waistband of his jock. He pulled it off slowly and then tossed it aside. A look of concern flashed over his face, and he asked, "Are you good with this, Dylan? I mean, I know you love to get fucked. I've heard you when Kurt's doing you, but are you okay with it being me? Do you want me to fuck you?" I knew that he needed to hear it with his own ears. Dylan was so subservient to me that Greg needed to know that he wasn't just doing what I wanted him to do. Dylan looked up at him and said, "Yes, Sir. Even if I didn't want to do it, I would because Kurt's my master, but he refused to order me to do anything. He made me tell him and I'm going to tell you. I think you're hot and sexy and unbelievably good-looking. I'd want to do it with you even if I didn't already have a master. And I'm glad that he gave me permission to serve you." Damn! My boy was good. He did think Greg was handsome. I'd heard him say so often enough before, but he was doing this because I wanted him to do it. I'd concluded that it was impossible to know exactly what Dylan wanted because he always wanted to do what he thought I wanted. That meant that I had to figure it out on my own. Greg seemed satisfied with that answer. He fingered Dylan's butt some more, making my boy writhe around and moan with pleasure. "He's loose enough," I said. "You can take him anytime now." Greg smiled at me and said, "But I like the look on his face when I do this." "Feel around inside until you find a hard little lump," I said. "It will be on the upper side near the back of his little cocklet." Greg felt around until he found it. We both saw that moment because a steady stream of precum started to flow from Dylan's little dick. He was cute as could be. "When you fuck him, try to hit that spot," I said. "You'll see him cum like a girl, with no one touching his little thing, just from the feeling of a man pounding his ass." Greg pulled his finger out and said, "I've got to see that." He pushed Dylan's knees up to his chest and slid inside him. Dylan didn't offer any resistance. He mumbled, "That feels great, Greg. Fuck me harder! You don't have to hold back." Greg wasn't small. He had seven and half circumcised inches to please my boy, but Dylan was used to me, and I was a lot bigger than Greg. In fact, when I thought about it, the difference between my cock and Greg's and between Greg's cock and Dylan's was about the same. As I watched my boyfriend getting plowed by my best friend � well, my best friend other than Dylan and Steven � I couldn't help but notice how round Greg's ass was. If he shaved it smooth, it would be begging to get fucked. I watched his powerful glutes move with each thrust and inhaled sharply. He hadn't been wrong about being on a hair trigger today. He came just a few minutes after he started. He threw his head back and groaned. "Take my load, you sexy little... dude," he said. "Your ass is like a silk glove." Dylan was moaning and the liquid running from the head of his dicklet was translucent instead of transparent. He was cumming in that slow oozing way he often did when he enjoyed a good fuck. I was a little jealous that someone else was responsible for it, but also proud of him for treating Greg right, and a little impressed by Greg's ability to manage it on his first gay fuck. As Greg was pulling out, I whispered in Dylan's ear, "You did a good job, slave boy. Now it's my turn." I took my place between Dylan's legs and teased his hole with the head of my cock. Greg was reaching for the wipes, but I said, "No! Don't wipe it off. Look at Dylan's face. Would you deny him a chance to suck your dick?" Dylan gave Greg a pouty puppy look that made him laugh. Then Greg moved over and let Dylan suck his cock into his mouth. Now I was jealous. My cock was too big for Dylan to take it all, but he managed Greg's pole with ease. I pushed inside of Dylan's pretty hole and was rewarded with a low throated moan from my boy. All my jealousy faded when Greg said, "Your boy is totally in love with you. He never moaned like that when I was inside him." "He moaned," I said. "I distinctly heard him moan." "Not like this," Greg said with a grin. And he was right. Dylan had gotten used to my cock, so he took it without too much effort if he was lubed properly, but he was moaning loudly. I couldn't see it because Greg was blocking my view, but Dylan always cried tears of joy when I fucked him. I'd seen no tears when Greg was fucking him. Dylan's cute little dick was pouring cum like a garden hose. With every thrust, another heavy stream poured out. The sounds he was making and the moaning in his throat brought Greg to another orgasm. He groaned loudly and held Dylan's face rougher than I'd expected. But his roughness didn't stop Dylan from using his ass to milk my cock. He was such a talented little twink. I loved him. It had taken me much too long to admit that to myself, but now I felt free to revel in the idea. It wasn't just that I loved him. I was in love with him. All the slavery, dominance, and submission were awesome. It made him even more exciting, but I would have loved him even without it. Dylan's ass was the most amazing thing I'd ever felt. He seemed to be a natural. He'd discovered these talents on his own. I was the only guy he'd been with before today and I didn't even know that the kind of control he showed over his rectum was possible. I grabbed his hips and pulled him tight. My orgasm washed over me, and I spilled my seed deep inside him. Greg had pulled out of his mouth and Dylan yelled, "YES, MASTER, YES! I need you!" "And I need you, sexy little slave boy," I said. I bent down and kissed him while my cock was still pumping inside him. His lips were a little swollen and his mouth tasted of... Greg's semen. I was taken aback for a moment, but just for a moment. I wasn't sure that I liked the idea of another man's cum in my mouth. Dylan's was fine. I'd tasted him before after I'd fed him his own cum. But... to hell with it. Greg's cum wasn't disgusting and even if it were, anything would taste good on Dylan's lips. We enjoyed a lazy afternoon hanging out. We played some video games, we talked, we took turns making out with Dylan and we had sex three more times. Greg avoided touching me even when we had Dylan sandwiched between us. I was glad because I wasn't sure how I felt about touching him in a sexual way. Greg and I slipped shorts on whenever we weren't enjoying Dylan, but we kept him naked. He seemed to enjoy being the lone naked boy in the house. When one of us wasn't enjoying his body, he waited on us. He didn't even want to play video games with us, despite Greg asking him repeatedly. Dad and Cory were out late. The dealership was open until 7:00 p.m. and this was a busy weekend. Dad called me and said he'd be home by 8:30 and he'd bring chicken if we hadn't already eaten. Dylan had grilled us some cheese sandwiches at 3:00, so we could wait. I made Dylan put his little shorts on before Dad and Cory came home. They had several boxes of things from Cory's apartment that they were moving into the house. It looked like Cory was going to be spending more time at our place. I was happy for dad. What surprised me was that Cory ran upstairs to put on a pair of tiny shorts and then joined Dylan in serving us dinner. Cory was seriously hot for a thirty-year-old guy. He looked like Dylan, but he was as muscular as his slender body would allow. The more I watched him, the more convinced I was that I wanted to train Dylan so that he looked like his uncle. I noticed that Greg spent a lot of time staring at Cory, especially when he bent over, and his muscular glutes were on display. While Dad was using the bathroom and Cory and Dylan � the two household slaves? � were cleaning up after dinner, I leaned over to Greg and said, "You seem to like Cory's bod." "Damn, Kurt, he's sexy. He looks so much like Dylan they could be father and son. He has the same thin body, but it is toned and... I keep getting hard looking at him," he whispered. "Yeah. He's hot. When I look at Dylan I think he could look like that with a little work. Steven put him on an exercise program that should work," I said. I noticed that he was craning his neck to see the slave boys in the kitchen, so I added, "Look. Whatever we did here today, don't even think about trying it with Cory. He belongs to my dad, and I don't think he'd appreciate it." "Yeah, no problem. Hands off," Greg agreed. "You'd better believe it," I confirmed. "And... um... did you like fucking Dylan today?" I asked. Greg looked over at me and grinned widely. He said, "You'd better believe it." "Better than pussy?" I asked. He shrugged and said, "I don't know if I would say better, but it was awesome and it was different. Can I... will you share him with me again?" he asked. "Or was this just a one-time thing?" I had to think about it for a minute. I'd enjoyed seeing Greg take Dylan. It was a perverse thrill to share my boy, but Dylan was mine. He belonged to me. He was my property. And I needed to make sure that no one forgot that. Greg must have mistaken my silence for a "no" because he said, "It's okay. I shouldn't even ask. Forget about it." "No," I said. "It's not an absolute `no'. I just don't want you to forget that he's mine. I'll have to think about it, but I'm open to the idea of sharing him with you again. Just remember that he belongs to me. He trusts you now and he'd probably do whatever you said. I'm counting on you not to touch him without my permission, and that means separate permission every time. And I doubt that I'll ever be comfortable letting you have him if I'm not there to watch and supervise." "I can live with that," Greg said. "And I'll share Sheila with you if she's willing. If you're still interested in pussy that is," he said with a smile. "Just because I prefer Dylan's sexy butt doesn't mean that I don't still like pussy, dude!" I said. "Besides, I think you actually liked Dylan's butt better than pussy." I couldn't help but tease him. "Shut up!" he said, blushing. But he didn't deny it and the way he looked away made me think I'd hit a nerve. We sat and talked after the cleanup. Cory sat on the floor in front of Dad and rested his head on Dad's knee and Dylan decided to follow his model. Greg sat next to me, the only one without a boy of his own. He spent the night, however, and Dylan slept between us. We each enjoyed him one more time before we went to sleep. Cory Roger and I had left the boys alone not too long after dinner. We retired to Roger's room for a little fun of our own. We'd barely gotten into the room when Roger pushed me over onto the bed and ripped my shorts off. "Looking at my nephew's pretty little body has you worked up something fierce, doesn't it, Sir," I teased. Roger frowned and then realized that I wasn't serious. He bit my lip hard and said, "Looking at your skinny little nephew just made me think of you, every time I caught sight of him." He knew how to make me feel good and that was one of the things I loved about him. "I'm not getting too old for you, Sir? I did just turn thirty last month." "Don't start in with that old bullshit, Cory," he said sternly. "If you're old, what am I? I'm ten years older than you." "I know, Sir, but it's different," I said. "You're a real man and a few gray hairs just make you look sexier. I'm your boy and it's my job to stay young looking for you. I... I worry that you won't want me anymore when I get wrinkles and I start to lose my hair." I'd gotten maudlin and I hadn't intended to. Kurt lay down on the bed next to me and kissed my forehead. "Are you really worried about that, Cory?" he asked. I didn't say anything. I squeezed my eyes closed and breathed deeply. Roger chuckled and stroked my jawline. "It's the same with all you twinky bottom boys," he said. "Your youth, your vulnerability and your cute face and skinny body are what attracted me to you in the first place. You reminded me that there were two sides to my sexuality, and you made me fall in love with you. So, you're getting older. I'm not that shallow, Cory. If you start going bald, I'll just shave your head and have a sexy boy with no hair. It's all the rage in some circles." "What if my butt gets soft and droopy?" I asked with a sad smile. "Then I'll handcuff you to a treadmill and make you run however many hours a day it takes to whip you into shape," he said. "You belong to me, Cory, and I'm not going to let you get away from me by pretending you're too old for me." He crushed my mouth with his and twisted the rings in my nipples. He pressed his groin against my ass, and I wrapped my legs around him. "You're mine forever, boy," he said. "Next year, on Valentine's Day, a month after Kurt's birthday, two months after Dylan's birthday, I'm going to make it official. I'm going to make you stand up in front of all our friends � our real friends that is � and I'm going to make you swear to obey me forever. And then I'm going to make you sign a paper making you mine in the eyes of the law. And then I'm going to put a ring on you to show everybody that you belong to me." "Do you mean...?" I asked. "... that I'm going to marry you?" he said. "Yes. That's exactly what I mean." I burst out crying again like the silly twink I still was inside, and Roger tore his own clothes off so he could fuck me hard on the bed, our bed. Everything was becoming more real. When my lease was up in December, Roger was going to let my apartment go. Even now I was going to be sleeping here and living here. We lay together naked on the bed, cuddling after we'd both cum. I was basking in Roger's warmth, and he was playing with my navel, making me break out in giggles from time to time. "I'm going to be your wife in five months, Sir," I said. "You're already my wife, Cory," he said. "You've had my heart for twelve years now." "And you've had mine, Sir," I said. "You saved my life and made me yours." We'd had this discussion before. Roger didn't believe it, but I knew that I would have continued down a dark path and probably would have destroyed myself long before now if he hadn't claimed me. He was my rock, my anchor, my everything. Damian Steven made me clean the hotel room and then he took me out. We went to the drag racing convention for a couple of hours and took some pictures. I bought my family souvenirs. That would cover our tracks so no one would suspect that we'd come here for a three-day weekend of gay sex away from prying eyes. When we were in public, Steven ordered me around and I obeyed. He chose my breakfast for me and then he did the same thing at lunch. He made me strip naked and blow him in the bathroom at the convention. He made me blow him again in the movie theater while he fingered my ass. And he didn't let me touch myself or get any relief of any kind. By the time we'd gotten back to the hotel, I was so horny that I was ready to beg. When the door was shut, Steve snapped his fingers and said, "Strip." Once I was naked he snapped again and told me to crawl after him into the bathroom. He took charge and douched my ass while I kissed his feet. Once he was done, he had me follow him back into the room and we put on our speedos before going to the pool. We were the only one's dressed so skimpily. We swam in the pool and Steven was mostly restrained. There were families present so he didn't touch me where anyone else could see. But underwater, he wasn't so restrained. His hand managed to find my butt and my cock whenever no one was looking in our direction. And when I was fully erect, pressing against the thin material of my speedo, he sent me to fetch a drink. We'd brought some sodas down and placed them on a chair by the jacuzzi. I was sure that everyone was staring at my hardon as I walked back to the pool. Steven and I sat on the stairs leading down into the pool and enjoyed our drinks. When no one was looking, he squeezed my cock gently. I had to stifle a moan. I went to push his hand away, but he grabbed my wrist with his free hand and whispered, "Slaves don't get to say `no'. Their masters can make use of their body in any way they want, at any time." I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Master." He smiled as he worked me back to full erection. Then he moved his hand back to my butt and slid his hand inside my speedo. His index finger toyed with my hole, rubbing it until I thought I was going to cum. Then he stopped and patted me on the shoulder. Loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, "Let's get into the jacuzzi for a while." He got out of the pool and then extended his hand, asking, "Do you need help?" I sighed and resigned myself to potential exposure. Then I took his hand and stood up. Everyone was too engaged in their own business to be worried about me, everyone apart from one man who was sitting in a chair finishing a beer. He smiled in my direction, making me blush. Luckily it wasn't visible in the feeble illumination of the lights around the pool. No one else was in the jacuzzi, but Steven sat next to me, his hip resting against mine. He put his arm around me and said, "Take off your speedo and hand it to me." "I'll be naked, Steven, in public," I said. "You'll be naked in public, Master!" he said. "I'll be naked in public, Master," I repeated. Steven smiled at me and said, "I know. Now take off your speedo and hand it to me." I swallowed nervously and pulled my speedo off, leaving me naked under the warm foaming water. I wished the fear would make my dick shrink, but it didn't. I was still hard as rock. Steven took my testicles in hand and rolled them gently between his fingers. "Your balls are feeling kind of full, like maybe you've been on the edge all day without any relief," he teased. "If you want a chance to cum today, you'll do exactly what I tell you to do. Otherwise, when we get upstairs I'm going to ice your cock and make you wait until tomorrow." "Yes, Master," I said, wondering what he had planned. I didn't have to wonder for long. Steven's hand slid down my back and then wriggled under my butt. When he started pushing into my crack, I leaned forward without even meaning to, like my body had decided to give Steven more access without even consulting me. Steven's finger pressed on my anus. I was so horny that I felt myself opening immediately. He worked his finger deep inside me, then pressed a second alongside it. My mouth was hanging open and my eyes were wide. A deep voice said, "Do you mind if I join you?" "Not at all," Steven said, without removing his fingers from my ass. It was the guy who'd seen my erection earlier. He was about my height, but thicker through the middle. He wasn't fat, he was just built like a muscular rectangle. His black hair was cut short and tinged with silver. And his skin had a deep tan. He sat down on the opposite side of the jacuzzi and leaned back. He stared at me like he knew that Steven was fingering my ass under the waterline. I was becoming very uncomfortable. But if I was uncomfortable why did my dick feel like it could explode at any moment? "My name's Mike," the guy said, holding out his hand. I shook it and said, "Damian and this is Steven." Steven pushed on my prostate making me jump and squeak while I spoke. And Mike just kept on grinning. Of course, there was no way that he could know what was happening for sure, but he must have suspected something was going on. "You two are a cute couple," Mike said, reaching back to take a drink from his can of beer. My heart nearly stopped. Everyone had gone back to their rooms except for Mike, Steve and me, and an opposite sex couple making out in the pool. I was naked in a public pool and Steve was fingerbanging me in the jacuzzi. If we were caught, I'd be arrested, and my dad would have to come get me. Mike must have seen the look on my face because he scooted over next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, son," he said. "I'm not just some rando and I'm not going to report you and get you in trouble. Your boyfriend and I were chatting while you were running to get the sodas and trying to hide your erection. I'm here to provide you some cover if anyone else tries to start trouble." I looked at his smiling face and then over at Steven's smirk. Steven said, "If you're going to be my slave boy, you need to obey without worrying about the consequences. You told me yourself that Kurt fucks Dylan in the school bathroom. And Kurt told me that he fucked Dylan in one of the church bathrooms." "Yes, Master," I said. "Good," Steven said with a smile. "Because you are going to scoot over and sit on my cock. And you're going to ride me until you cum. And Mike is going to sit here and watch." I wanted to scream "SNICKERDOODLE" at the top of my lungs, grab my speedo and run out of there, but I was stubborn. And Steven had raised a sour point with me. Dylan had the courage to do what was demanded of him without question. He was a little, mousy thing. (That wasn't an insult. I thought mice were cute.) If he could do it, I should be able to do it. "Yes, Master!" I said with intent, still at a low volume, but much louder than the whispering I had been doing. "If you're serious," Steven said, "take your speedo and throw it over next to the chair with our towels on it." He handed me the speedo. I swallowed hard and said a silent prayer, then I threw the speedo with a little too much force. It sailed past the chair and hit the wrought iron fence. And it was traveling sufficiently fast enough to slip between the bars and land outside the pool area. My face fell. Mike started laughing and Steven kissed my neck, mumbling "If you're a very, very good boy, I'll let you wrap a towel around your waist when we go back to the room. Now scoot over and sit on my cock." I lifted my butt and went to sit on his lap facing outward, but Steven stopped me and said, "Do it cowgirl style. I want to be able to look into your eyes." I turned around and squatted on his groin. Steven pulled his fingers out of my butt and then guided me over his rod. I eased myself down over him. I was more than ready. The head of his cock slipped inside me easily. It wasn't quite as easy to get the remainder inside me. We were in the water. I wasn't lubed. He wasn't lubed. But I managed to do it. I started riding Steven and he started biting my neck. I wanted him to be a little rougher, but I knew he couldn't. He was careful not to leave any marks for my parents to see. Mike was watching us, but he could only really see what was happening above the water. I'll be honest. Fucking in the jacuzzi was awesome because we were surrounded by warm water, but it wasn't very comfortable. If I hadn't been so horny, I might not have cum at all. But I was hornier than I'd ever been before. I'd tasted Steven dick and swallowed his cum so many times today, and he'd touched me a lot. It was like his hands were on me every time no one was watching us. I'd been on edge all day. And his big cock was hitting my prostate every time I sank back down on him. "You're a sexy boy, Damian," Steven said. "Your ass is the most amazing thing I've ever been inside, even better than your sweet, cocksucking mouth. It's silky soft, but strong and firm at the same time. You were made to get fucked, boy." "Mm," I said. "And you were made to fuck me, Master. My ass has never felt more complete than when you're inside it." We were getting close to climaxing. I was panting and whining. I was sure I wasn't loud enough to be heard over at the pool, but the woman who was riding her boyfriend yelled, "Faggots!" at us. My body tensed up, but Mike said, "Don't stop. Keep going. I'll handle it." I didn't know what he could do, but I was too close to stop no matter what. I slammed down on him one last time and felt my dick contract and then release. I started shooting into the warm water of the pool. At the same time, my ass clamped down tight on Steven. I could feel his body tense beneath me like it always did when he was cumming. When his muscles flexed, his body was hard as sculpted stone. Usually he called out, but we were outside, and we'd already attracted unwanted attention, so he growled and sucked my pec hard instead. We both knew he was leaving a hickey, but it was in a place where it would only show during swim practice. Afterward we kissed some more while Mike escorted the obnoxious couple out of the pool area and pointed toward the door leading into the hotel. Then he strode over and picked up a towel and held it out for me. "Sorry I missed the climax of the show," he said, "but you two should probably get back to your room before those guys complain to someone else." I stood up and took the towel. I dried myself quickly and then wrapped the towel around my waist. Steven took the other towel and dried himself. Then we said our goodbyes and went up to our room. In the shower, Steven held me close and said, "I hope you enjoyed your day of servitude." "I did, but I..." I began. "... don't think you want to do it for real," Steven finished my thought. I shook my head and said, "Not a chance." "Don't worry, babe, we don't have to do it again," he said. I thought about it for a minute and then looked up into his eyes and asked, "Or... we could do it again sometime, like when we're with Kurt and Dylan?" "You want to pretend to be my slave in front of my brother and his slave?" Steven asked. I paused and then said, "Not exactly. I want to be your slave when we're with them. I want it to be real so I can fit in with Dylan and Kurt, but I only want it to be real then." Steven kissed me and said, "I can live with that deal, so long as the rest of the time we're just boyfriends." We went back into the room and fell onto the bed. We made out for a while and then Steven said, "I've been entertaining you all day, Damian. Now it's your turn." "What do you mean?" I asked, running my fingers across his pecs. "It means that you've drained me dry, boy," he said, toying with my cock. He was only semi-hard, but I was ready to go again. "Tonight, you're going to take some responsibility. I still have another hour before your servitude is officially over," he said. "You're going to take this cock of yours and you're going to fuck me with it. I don't mind doing the fucking most of the time. Your ass is too sweet for words to express. But sometimes, I'm going to need you to return the favor." I couldn't stop myself from grinning. I said, "Your ass is fine too, Sir. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He has an average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. ● Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
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Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 17 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded) ● Wishcraft (Concluded) ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories · Small Town Slave Boys · Jack and the Giant · Sacred Submissives · Bellus Cinaedus · Guardian Angel · Eros in Arcadia · Nivean and the Dvergar · Desert Heat · Constituent Services · The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 17 Tommy This last week, staying with Donny, had been great, except for the fact that Dylan wasn't there. I'd just gotten him broken in and trained when Dad had to ruin it by beating the crap out of him. But I'd shown him. At fifteen years old, I'd already gotten tough enough to take my old man. I'd laid him out twice and I'd do it again if he touched my brother. Dylan was my bitch, and no one was ever going to lay hands on him again. The image of Kurt Groth flashed across my mind. He was a problem. A six foot tall, stocky, football player of a problem. Earlier this week, I'd realized that Kurt was Dylan's mystery boyfriend. Dylan shaved his body, his cunt, and his clit for Kurt. I'd come to terms with the fact that he'd been fucking my brother, but Dylan had me now. He didn't need anyone else getting inside his bussy. I hadn't even been able to see Dylan at school. After Dad had beaten him with a belt, he was on bed rest for the week, and he'd been staying at Kurt's house. But I had found a new bitch at school, a cute little faggot named Patty O'Rourke. Once he realized I wasn't going to hit him or out him, he'd been more than happy to suck my cock every day. And this Saturday I was going to spend the night at Patty's House. I was going to fuck him this weekend. But today was Friday and Donny had promised me a surprise when I got home. And I couldn't wait. Donny was a pretty good older brother. He and I had a lot in common. We were both alpha males who knew how to use a bitch properly. We even looked alike. Since he was four and half years older than me, he was taller, but pound for pound I was stronger than him. When I reached his height, I'd be even tougher than he was. Dylan This last week had been torturous for me. I liked studying from home better than going to school, so that wasn't the problem. The issue was that my doctor had ordered me to stay off my back and my butt. And my Uncle Cory interpreted that to mean that Kurt couldn't fuck me. I didn't mind sucking Kurt's dick, in fact I loved it, but an entire week without feeling his big cock inside me was making me needy. He'd offered to jerk me off, but I'd declined. Cumming from getting fucked felt so much better to me than masturbating, but it had taken some time to consistently reach orgasm that way. And I knew that it had just gotten better since I'd stopped stroking my dick. If Kurt stroked it for me, not only would it not feel as good, but it would take a lot of time before it started feeling as good as it did now. But, today, Doctor Josie had given me the okay. She'd removed the bandages on my upper thighs and my back. She'd even tweaked my nose and whispered, "You can have sex with your boyfriend if he promises to take it easy on you." I'd immediately texted Kurt. "Doctor J says we're good but you have to be gentle Mr." "I can be gentle SB." He often called me SB in texts. It was short for Slave Boy. And I called him Mr which was short for Master. "I prefer it rough Mr." "You'll take it gentle and like it SB!" He accompanied this with a winking emoji. "Yes SIR!" "I'll be home after practice." "I'll be waiting." "Shave and send me a picture." I needed a shower anyway after a week with only sponge baths, but now I had something to be excited about. I wasn't shaving anymore. I'd discovered Aussie Nads. They had a depilatory formula for sensitive areas of the body, so I used it regularly instead. And today, as soon as I'd removed what little hair I had, I took a series of pictures and sent them to Kurt. I never text them because they couldn't be encrypted. I always emailed them instead. Then I set a timer, so I'd remember to clean my ass at just the right time. I decided to bake some cookies for Kurt and the guys. I had to kill some time while waiting for my master to come home and fuck me good. Cory Marge, the office manager, came up behind me and swatted my butt when no was looking. She gave me a wink and said, "It's almost three, Cory, you'd better get your behind in the boss's office. It's time for his relaxation break." I knew what time it was. I'd kept this appointment every day, when both Roger and I were working, for the past six years. That was when Roger had established this standing appointment. And, every day, exactly one hour before 3 p.m., I used Roger's private bathroom to clean my ass. Not a deep cleaning. That wasn't necessary if a bottom ate right and used a fiber supplement. Just a light douching with an anal bulb. An hour lead time was enough for the natural secretions in the rectum to remoisturize enough for comfortable penetration. I gave her a smile and said, "Don't worry, Marge. I'm going." "Well don't dawdle, sweet cheeks. We all want the boss to be happy; and it's your job to see that he is." She gave me a look that said she wanted me to know exactly what I did for the boss. It was no surprise. She knew everything that happened in the office. I smiled back at her and said, "Yes, ma'am!" I was Roger's Personal Assistant (emphasis on the Ass), and I reported directly to him. Marge wasn't my boss, but she acted like she was, and I didn't really care. I had only one person above me in the corporate org chart, but no one below me. Everyone knew that any instructions I gave came directly from the boss. I entered Roger's office and locked the door. He was sitting behind the desk, holding a riding crop in one hand. I could feel the blood rushing to my dick. Roger saw my excitement and said, "Somebody's excited today." I nodded and said, "Yes, Boss, I am. I've been home for the last four days and I've missed this." I'd taken Dylan home early on Tuesday and I'd stayed with him until this morning. Josie Kurtz came over to check on him today and said he could do some things for himself now, so I'd come in to work. It had been great getting closer to my nephew, but I think he'd gotten tired of having his uncle coddling him. He pretty much pushed me out the door. "I've missed it too, Cory. Now get your clothes off and prepare to get your ass tanned." He stood up and walked over the futon. I stripped my clothes off as fast as I could and took my place, leaning over the back of the couch, with my ass raised and legs spread. I was only wearing a black jock, the golden slave chain around my neck and a plug firmly lodged in my ass. Roger ran a hand down my back and wiggled it. "Is this still keeping you calm?" he asked. "Yes, Boss. It's doing its job." I'd been growing increasingly agitated at the thought of Dylan going back to his parents' house on Monday, so Roger had taken to keeping a big plug in my ass. It may sound strange but having something in my ass always calmed me down. Roger had discovered that years ago. "Good," he said, "because Marge told me you didn't eat lunch today and that usually means that you're anxious about something." "That's because I sat Dylan down and made him eat this morning, so I ate with him before coming in," I replied. And that was the truth. Dylan avoided food unless someone reminded him to eat, and he looked like he'd lost weight. How anyone could do that while lying on his belly all day, doing nothing physical, I had no idea. But Roger was right. Dylan probably inherited body issues from me, as well as his looks. I often skipped meals, especially if I saw the slightest bit of flab on my body. Dylan had no flab, but he'd told me that he thought he was too heavy. The boy only weighed 115 pounds and he freaked out about gaining an ounce. "That's what I hoped, Cory. I need you to be a positive influence on Dylan, instead of him being a negative influence on you." "Yes, Sir!" I replied. "Okay then. You don't need punishment, so this spanking is purely for our pleasure. Do you want it soft or hard?" I don't know why he ever bothered to ask. My response was always the same. "Give it to me hard, Sir!" Roger ran the riding crop along my hamstrings and then stuck it between my thighs to gently tap my scrotum. A thrill ran through me, but I knew he wouldn't smack my testicles for real, not without putting a gag in my mouth. I love a little rough play with my balls, but it always makes me scream. Roger leaned over and whispered, "Maybe later." Then he smacked my ass with the riding crop, sending a jolt of pain up my spine. At work I was required to respond in a quiet voice, not much more than a whisper. "One, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I wasn't allowed to call him "master" unless we were alone. I wasn't even allowed to hug him, unless we were home, because we were still closeted. He'd told me that was going to end soon, that we were going to get married. But even then he probably wouldn't want to expose our kinks to the world. Roger smacked my ass again, and again. He gave me twenty good strokes and I counted every one of them. Then he ran his hands across my ass and said, "Nice and red, baby. Just how we both like it." He toyed with the plug in my ass, and I moaned, "Oh yes, Sir. Tease my hole." He pulled it out part way and then let it go so that my ass slowly swallowed it again. He did that a couple of times. I was so aroused that the pouch of my jock was getting wet. Then he pulled the toy out completely. My ass felt empty and my hole was twitching, but I immediately felt my anxiety start to rise. Roger examined the plug and gave it a sniff before setting it aside. Then he rubbed my hole with his thumb, which made my dick jump. "Does that feel good, baby? Do you like your master teasing your boy hole?" He could say master because he trusted himself to keep it quiet. I groaned, "Yes, Sir! My hole is hungry for you. It wants you inside it." He pressed his index finger inside me and stroked my prostate. "You're so warm and silky smooth inside, Cory. I can't wait to get inside you." Of course he played with my ass some more. He hated the taste of lube, and I needed it to get that plug inside my ass, so he didn't eat me out today. But he did lube up his fingers and thrust them inside me, first the one, then a second and then a third. He fucked my ass with his fingers while he twisted them around and spread them out, stretching my hole. The stress I had felt on having an empty ass started to subside again. Over the course of twelve years, he'd fucked me more than a thousand times, probably a lot more. My ass knew his touch and it was trained to relax and accept him. He teased me with a fourth finger, thrusting in and out, but never going past the knuckles. He whispered, "Do you want my whole hand inside you, Cory?" "Fuck, yes," I whispered back. "Too bad. The good lube is at home. I can't do it here, but I'll do it for you sometime this weekend. I promise that I'll play with your hole for an hour, maybe more. But right now, I need to drop a load in your hot ass so bad." He pulled his hand out and pressed his cock inside my slimy and expanded hole. Roger knew my body intimately. He knew where every magic spot was, and he had no trouble getting into my ass at the right angle to prod my prostate with each thrust. Both of us were already very excited when Roger played with my ass, so we were pretty close to orgasm. Still, Roger, my sexy stud, managed to hold out for almost ten minutes. I knew he was really close when he grabbed my nuts and squeezed them hard. Damn he knew what I liked! He applied gradually increasing pressure and said, "Cum for me now, Cory. Let me squeeze your spunk right out of your nuts. Do it." I started whimpering. "Mm, mm, mm, mm. Do it, Sir. Punch my g-spot and crush my fucking nuts!" The orgasm began in my scrotum, and it crashed over my body like a tsunami of pleasure. I started shooting into the pouch of my jock and my asshole chewed on his cock. He thrust deep inside me and held it there while I milked him dry. "Damn! Your ass is still the best thing in the whole fucking universe, Cory. I'm... Oh fuck!" He was desperately trying to keep his voice quiet, "I'm cumming. Take my load, baby. Take the whole thing. It's just for you, only for you." When we'd both cum, Roger shoved that plug back inside my squishy and sensitive hole and said, "Now keep your master's load inside you like a good little slave boy." "Yes, Sir!" I replied. Then he sat on the couch, and I sat on his lap. We kissed and I ran my hands through the manly mat of hair on his chest. There were more than a few gray hairs among the brown. He had gray at his temples as well and on his back, in the pelt that had grown thicker over the last ten years. He saw me playing with his salt and pepper hairs and asked, "Am getting too old for you, Cory? I leaned in and kissed him. "No, Sir. Gray hair makes a man like you even sexier." I said nothing about the thinning hair on top of his head. I knew he was a little sensitive about it, but I thought it made him look mature and powerful. Overall, I was glad that I still looked younger than my thirty years, and I was really glad that Roger had just gotten sexier in my eyes every year." Tommy I had to take the bus home to Donny's apartment since he was busy today. I still had no idea what my oldest brother did for a job. Sometimes he went out at night. I suspected he was selling drugs, but I didn't know for sure. He had money enough to buy whatever he wanted, though. Donny had told me to text when I got off the bus, so I did. And then I walked the five minutes to get to his apartment. When I came in, I got the surprise of my life. Donny was sitting on the couch wearing only a Kid Rock tee shirt. His hairy legs were spread and there was a guy kneeling on the floor, sucking his dick. "Come on in, little bro. Put your backpack down and get your pants off. This here's my faggot, Jamie. As soon as he swallows my load, he'll suck yours." I wasted no time. I dropped my bag on the floor and then took my jeans off as fast as I could. From behind, this guy looked fit. He had short brown hair and a muscular back. I flopped down on the couch next to Donny and took a good look at the guy. He was average height and build, but I could see his muscles clearly under his smooth skin. He was as hairless as Dylan and handsome enough, if a little too muscular for my taste. Like I said, I preferred girly fags like Dylan and Patty. My eyes, however, were drawn to a pink plastic device of some kind that covered his dick. "Who is this guy?" I asked. Donny smiled and said, "This is Jamie Beck. He's the landlord here at these apartments. At least he's the manager. His dad is the owner, but Jamie lives here and keeps an eye on things." "How did you get him to suck your dick?" "It wasn't hard. He kept cruising me whenever he saw me in the parking lot," Donny replied with a smirk. "Um... what's cruising?" I asked. Donny smiled and put a brotherly arm around my shoulders. "Cruising is when a fag keeps hanging around and watching you, giving you signals that he wants your dick. With enough experience, you'll learn to recognize it." "So, he came to you, looking for your dick?" I said. Donny nodded. "He sure did. He was practically panting when he saw me in my gray sweats. He knew then that he had to get my big dick inside him." I looked over. Donny did have a big dick, probably eight inches or so. I was fifteen and mine was already about six and half. I wondered if I would get as big as Donny before I stopped growing. I hadn't said anything, so Donny continued. "Jamie here was desperate, so I invited him over for a beer. He kept looking at my dick and I kept rubbing it through my sweats until he was drooling. When I offered it to him, he jumped on the chance." "Okay. So what is that pink thing on his dick?" I asked. Donny chuckled and said, "That's a chastity device. It keeps him from getting hard." "Why does he wear it?" "I don't know why he started wearing it. All I know is that one day I dragged him in here to suck my dick and he was wearing it. He said it was exciting to be locked up, but that it wasn't as exciting as it would be if someone else held the key for him. When I told him that I would do it, he ran back to his apartment and brought all four of them with him. Now he wears it because I want him to. I get to keep him naked and horny, ready to be fucked, and I don't have to look at his cock." Donny's breath had been growing shallower and faster for the last couple of minutes. He grabbed Jamie's head and held it tight against his groin, burying all eight inches in his throat. "FUCK YEAH! I'M SHOOTING RIGHT DOWN THIS FAGGOT'S THROAT. TAKE IT BITCH! SWALLOW IT ALL!" When he was done, he pulled Jamie off his dick and slapped his face with it. "Get over there and suck my brother's dick, faggot." "He's just a kid, Sir!" Jamie complained. Danny slapped him harder upside the head. "Did I ask you how old he was?" "N-no! Sir!" "Then don't tell me. Just get your cocksucking lips on my brother's dick and swallow his load!" Jamie hesitated until Donny raised his hand again and then he scooted over between my legs and swallowed my cock in one try. This guy was a talented cock sucker. I felt no teeth, just a soft, warm mouth and a lot of suction. "Damn he's good!" I cried. Donny nodded. "Yep. He could be a professional whore, but I don't want to risk any diseases. He's now an exclusive Morgan brother cocksucker and fuck toy." "He doesn't suck anyone else?" I asked. Donny shook his head, "Nah. He used to drive over to Evansville on the weekends to go to the bars, but I put an end to that. This faggot likes to get bossed around, so I took charge. He doesn't go anywhere without my permission. I added his phone to my account so I can keep track of where he is at all times." "If you're paying for his cellphone, doesn't that mean you're paying him for sex?" I asked. "Not a chance," Donny replied. "He's on my account, but he pays the monthly bill. He also comes over here and cleans my apartment and does my laundry. Hell, I'm listed as the handyman for this apartment complex, but Jamie here does all the work. Now that I have him on a tight leash, he has plenty of time available. Ain't that right, Jamie?" The naked man mumbled, "Mm-hmm," without taking his mouth off my cock. I sighed and looked over at Donny. "I like that feeling, bro. Jamie's throat is vibrating around my cock." Donny leaned forward and tousled Jamie's hair. "I know. Sing for my baby brother, bitch." I couldn't tell what song Jamie was singing, or rather humming, around my cock. I just lay back and enjoyed the sensations on my cock. Damn! It felt nice. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I was fifteen and I had a hair trigger. Patty had sucked my dick at lunch, but I was ready to shoot again. That's when Donny surprised me. He brushed Jamie's damp hair off his sweaty brow. "Jamie here is a real treasure, Tommy. Sure, he's my slave and he knows he has to do anything and everything you say, but I don't want you fucking with him. I mean, you can fuck him if you want to, but you don't hit him and you treat him with the same respect you do everything I own." I decided to tease him, maybe a little too much. I laughed. "It sounds like you're in love." Danny grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. The look on his face was terrifying. "I am not some faggot to fall in love with a dude, so get that thought out of your head! Jamie is my bitch, my slave. Sure he's handsome. I wouldn't want some troll sucking my dick. And he's got an amazing body. But I wouldn't want to stick my dick in someone who wasn't. Fuck! He's good looking enough that I'd probably make him my girlfriend, but he's not, so he's just a faggot slave who sucks my cock and take it up his ass!" "Okay! Sorry. I was just joking," I said. Donny let go of my hair and leaned back. "Just don't forget it." I had been joking, but I thought that I must have really hit a nerve. Did my big, tough, bad boy of a brother actually love Jamie? He was acting like it. Fuck! I knew Donny liked girls. He'd fucked a lot of them and he'd had two pregnancy scares, that I knew of, including the one in high school that our self-righteous hypocrite of a father had taken care of. Donny told me shortly after it had happened. Dad had driven the two of them across the border into Illinois and paid for her to have an abortion without her parents even knowing. Of course that didn't change his preaching about the evils of abortion one bit. But I realized that Donny hadn't mentioned a girl in almost a year. I dared to ask, "How long has this bitch been sucking your dick?" Donny didn't pick up on the hidden purpose of my question. He said, "I met him thirteen months ago, but I didn't take control of his dick and his life until three months after that." It all fit together. Donny had been seeing Jamie seriously for ten months and he'd stopped seeing girls. He hadn't realized it, but he was totally in love with Jamie. His words said he wasn't, but the tone of his words said otherwise. He was leaning forward again and rubbing the back of Jamie's neck, like he was reassuring him. Jamie Beck I couldn't believe I was sucking a teenager's dick. Well, I'd started sucking Don's when he was still a teenager, but nineteen and fifteen are not the same thing at all. Tommy wasn't attractive to me, but Don had ordered me to do it, so I was doing it. Donny was amazingly attractive to me. Six feet tall, fit, red hair, a ton of freckles and blue eyes. And his cock was... well, as a dedicated bottom it was hard for me to find someone who wasn't smaller than my seven and half inches. Most supposed tops who saw my cock suddenly decided they were really bottoms and wanted me to fuck them, but that wasn't my thing. I'd done it twice. I got off, of course, but it wasn't exciting to me. I liked guys who wanted my ass. And I had a thing for rough looking bad boys. No doubt that Don fit that description. Donny had seen my big dick and he didn't care. His exact words were imprinted on my mind. "I don't care how big your cock is, faggot. I don't want to see it, and I'm not going to touch it." That was the moment I'd decided that I wanted to do more than give this sexy redhead a casual blowjob. I'd played around with chastity, and I'd loved it, so I made sure to wear my chastity device whenever I thought Don would see me. And I'd stopped using underwear because I wanted him to see it when I dropped my pants. And, boy, had it ever worked. When Don had seen it and made me explain it to him, the most wicked smile came over his face. He'd made me run back to my apartment and bring him the keys. My hands had been shaking when I'd handed him not four keys, but five. All four keys to the padlock on my chastity and the key to my apartment. Since then, I'd sucked Don's cock every day, and he'd fucked me two to three times a week. He used to unlock me once a month to let me masturbate in private before locking myself back up. But six months ago, I left a printout of an article on ruined orgasms on the table near my computer. As I'd hoped, he'd been reading it when I came back to the room with a tray of snacks for him. He'd given me a smirk and asked, "Is this what you want, Jamie?" I'd imagined a scenario where Don hadn't given me a choice, where he'd just decided that from now on all my orgasms were going to be ruined, but this was more humiliating. And humiliation was a major turn on for me. I'd blushed and replied, "A chastity slave doesn't deserve to have unspoiled orgasms, Sir." He shook his head. "You are one twisted little bitch, Jamie. If this is what you want, I'm going to give it to you. But this is not the first time you've referred to yourself as a chastity slave. If I do this for you. If I put my hands on your dick and edge you, like it says in this article, then that word, slave, is going to be more than just a fantasy. If I do this for you, you're going to be my slave for real." He'd been talking tough, but his voice was... seductive was the word. I'd felt that he was getting into this idea and that his mind was changing. He'd always thought of me as a convenient cocksucker and piece of ass to fuck, but his voice had said that he wanted more. He'd wanted a relationship, a weird as hell, perverted relationship, where he was in charge, and I'd do whatever he wanted. And that made him perfect for me because that's what I wanted. Don had always said that he was straight, but after that point, he started referring to himself as bi. Maybe he was, but I could tell when he stopped seeing girls. That was the point when I stopped tasting them on his cock. I loved it when he thought he was straight, but I could live with bisexual Don so long as he never started acting like a bottom. Sure, I pleasured his ass with my tongue, and yeah, he'd started making sure it was clean enough to eat. He loved it, but he never asked me to stick anything inside him, aside from my tongue, and I had no desire to do so. I cleaned his apartment. I did his laundry. I kept myself hairless for him. I kept myself fit for him. I sucked his dick. I rode his dick. I hired him as a handyman and then did the work myself. And what did I get out of it? I had a man to fulfill my fantasies, a man who gave me his cock to pleasure and to fill me to satisfaction, a man who spent several nights a week sleeping in my bed, holding me in his arms. That last part hadn't happened since Tommy had come to live with him, though. Maybe that would change now that Tommy knew about me. I wasn't attracted to him. He looked like his older brother, but every feature that was so attractive on Don was bland and unattractive on Tommy. Maybe it was because he was young and still had a baby face. I'd never been attracted to younger men until Don. He was five years younger than me, but he was so masculine and tough that he seemed older. Even when I was in high school, I'd spent my time sucking the dicks of my dad's business partners, his senior employees, and his friends. I'd blown three of my high school teachers and the fathers of two of my friends. I'd never wasted time with boys, and I wished I didn't have to now. But if servicing Tommy allowed things to go back to normal between Don and me, then I'd do it. A weird vision flashed before my eyes, a vision of the two Morgan brothers using me at the same time. I nearly came in my chastity thinking about it. When Tommy came in my mouth, I sucked him clean and dry. Then Don jumped up and dragged me to the middle of the floor. He lubed me with his rough fingers and spit, getting me just slick enough to take his cock. He knew I liked it rough, so he thrust rudely inside me and fucked me hard. My cock had gone from oozing precum to oozing cum. I spilled my pent up seed on the floor while he fucked me. He was being even rougher with me than usual, probably to show his younger brother what a macho stud he was. He didn't tell me how sweet my ass was. He didn't get so close to saying he loved me that I could hear it in the words he didn't say. When he came, he just grunted, "Take my load inside your fag hole, bitch. Take it while you spill your worthless dick snot on the floor." Then he pulled out of me and shoved his cock in my mouth so I could clean it. I tasted his cum, my ass, and an unpleasant undertone of lube. Well, two out of three ain't bad. While I sucked his cock clean, Don called out, "Get over here and fuck his ass, bro. It's the most amazing pussy I've ever had." There it was. He'd told me before that my ass was better than any pussy he'd fucked. He'd said the same thing about my mouth. I knew he loved me, and truth be told, it excited me that he didn't get all mushy about it. The hints and subtle innuendos were more exciting to me than any passionate declaration of love. Was it homophobic of me, even as a gay man, that I preferred my lover to seem as straight as possible? Steven "Just shut up and kiss me," Damian said tugging on my belt. Damian's car had been sideswiped by someone in a blue sedan while he was driving home after school today. He'd had it towed to Groth Automotive and then called me for a ride. Now we were in his room, while his parents were downstairs, his mother making dinner, which she insisted I stay for, and his father making calls to the insurance company. He was physically fine, but he'd been a little shaken up on the way home. Maybe that's what was making him a little reckless. I glanced nervously at the door, but Damian was insistent. He rose on his tip toes and kissed me instead. I gave in to my libido and crushed his lips with his own, despite the danger that someone could come in and see us. He tugged my belt a little harder, leading me toward the bed. I picked him up and carried him over to lay him down on the twin size mattress. Then I climbed on top of him to kiss him some more. He spread his legs wide so there was room for me between them. Damian was six feet tall, but I had five inches on him, so he seemed small beneath me. He tried to reach for my cock, but I took his hands and held them over his head. Then I started thrusting my cock against his, through our pants. We were both hard and the pressure of our cocks grinding against one another was almost as good as a hand, maybe better, since it wasn't something we did all the time. "Do it, Steve. Pound my cock with yours," Damian whispered. Damian rarely said the word fuck, and apparently pound was the next best thing, because he was well-behaved altar boy. Well-behaved except for all the gay sex that was. I ground against him harder. "Is that what I'm doing, lover, fucking your cock?" "It sure feels like it. Your cock is a hammer, and it's going to pound the cum right out of me." "I'm not crushing your nuts am I?" I asked. He smiled at me and said, "You are definitely pounding my balls as well, but it feels good. Don't stop." Damian had recently discovered that he liked some light pain. And I didn't mind giving it to him, so long as it remained light. I could play games with my lover, but I had no interest in hurting him. I pressed a little harder against him and he let out a deep throated sigh. "Like that?" I asked. He pressed his groin up against me, an impish smile playing across his lips. "You'd better believe it, stud." We kissed some more and continued to grind against one another until we both shot in our briefs. Damian was noisy when he came, so in order to keep both of us quiet, I sealed his lips with mine and held him tight against me. He came first; his body trembled with the force of his orgasm and that brought me over the edge as well. When we pulled apart, Damian gave me a mischievous wink. "You had better go into the bathroom and take your briefs off before your spunk soaks into your jeans. I have fresh underwear in that drawer over there, but, sadly, they're already tight on me, and there's no chance they will fit you. So, unlike you, I won't have to go commando during dinner." It was true that Damian was smaller than me and he wore his underwear very tight – which I completely supported. I knew he would have a pair of shorts that would suffice. They'd be tight, but not too obscene. But my boy was taking charge and I liked it. I turned him over and smacked his butt harder and louder than I intended and exclaimed, "Brat!" He rolled back over and said, "But I'm a sexy brat. Don't deny it." I kissed him again. "You are the sexiest brat in the world!" Then I went to the upstairs bathroom and took my briefs off. I'd shot a big load and they were soaked. I used them to clean the rest of the semen off my cock. I planned to run them out to my truck while no one was looking and then come back in for dinner, but Damian was waiting for me. He held out his hands and said, "Give them to me. I want to keep them for a while." I handed them to him, and he lifted them to his nose to take a whiff. Then he opened them up and stuck his tongue in the thickest pool of semen and waggled his eyebrows at me. I shook my head at him and said, "The sexiest and the kinkiest brat in the world." "And you love it," he said. Then he took the briefs back inside his room and stuck them in one of the pouches of his backpack. I had to readjust my dick in my jeans. I needed to have a talk with Damian. Ever since his brother had told him to tone down his dress so that he was less obviously gay, he'd been engaging in riskier behavior in private, like he wanted someone to find out. I started to join him in his room to have that talk, but his mother took that moment to call up the stairs, "Dinner's ready, boys! Come on down so we can get started!" Damian joined me in the hallway and reached up to give me a quick kiss before we headed downstairs. Damian was the youngest and he was the only one who still lived at home. Since all his brothers and sisters were at their own houses, it was just the four of us for dinner. Mrs. Wilder had made beef stew. Hers was rich and savory, full of mushrooms, carrots, potatoes, and onions. And it was redolent with thyme and hints of the beer she'd used to cook it. She'd also made homemade bread. She was an excellent cook and I always enjoyed dinner at her house. We were both seated on the seat behind the table, the "kiddie bench" as they called it. Damian had moved our place settings there as soon as he'd come down. I soon realized he'd done it because there wasn't a lot of space between the table and the wall and that meant that he could put his hand on my thigh while we ate. It was difficult to hold a conversation with his parents while Damian's fingers were brushing against my cock. Mr. Wilder said, "It looks like you'll be without a car for a couple of weeks, Damian. I guess you'll have to take the bus to school. And you'll have to ride with the team to the meet over in Evansville this weekend." Damian brushed his hand against my cock again, but his face was a mask of pure innocence. "Can you drive me, Steve? I know that you try to make the local meets. Are you interested in a road trip to support your former teammates?" Mrs. Wilder sighed. "Damian, don't badger Steven. He's an adult now and he may be too busy to drive a bunch of high school students all over the state." I thought about it for a moment then said, "It's not a problem. I'll tell Coach that I want to volunteer. He'll be happy to have me back to help chaperone, since it's an overnight trip." That was true. Coach Higgins was always short on chaperones. Rather, he always had the bare minimum required by the school, but he appreciated more hands on deck when it came to a dozen teenagers in a hotel overnight. Damian took a drink of lemonade, drawing out the moment. Then he gave his mother his sweetest smile. "Steve doesn't mind. He knows everyone on the team, except for the freshmen, and he likes supporting us, but I think I'd better spend the night, so he doesn't have to get up too early to come pick me up." It wasn't really that Damian was manipulating his parents. The fact was that he was the baby of the family and they always let him do what he wanted, even if they argued with him first. No, what he was really doing was telling me that he wanted me to go with him again. I don't know why he couldn't wait until we were alone to discuss this and then tell his folks. Was this more of that risky behavior, this possible desire to be caught out? We really needed to have that talk. Anyway, it would be up to me to convince Coach to let him room with me. It was against the rules, but I suspected that Coach wouldn't say anything because it was me. But it turned out that I wouldn't have to talk to Coach. Damian had it all figured out. He looked at his dad and said, "Can you write me a note to room with Steve? I have some homework this weekend and if I'm sharing with my teammates, they'll be too noisy for me to get any work done." Mr. Wilder sighed. "You're going to break my wallet, Son. I guess I'll have to pay for Steven's room since you're the reason he's going to be staying in the hotel." "That's not necessary, sir," I replied. "Consider it to be babysitting money. I need you to make sure Damian completes his homework," Mr. Wilder replied. Then Mrs. Wilder got into the game. "And you have to make sure that he brushes his teeth and gets to sleep on time." I shrugged. "Okay then. I'll let you pay half, and I'll be sure to make sure Damian gets in bed with plenty of time to rest." And that was how Damian convinced his parents to let him stay at my house the night before a school road trip, and how he convinced me to go away with him for the second weekend in a row. It wasn't just Damian's parents who were wrapped around his little finger. And it would be nice to watch the team swimming in their speedos during the day and then take Damian back to the room and fuck him afterward. And once again, it felt like Mr. Wilder was paying me to fuck his sexy son. I didn't like the idea that I was betraying his trust, but there was no way that I was going to stop having sex with Damian. If we could keep it hidden for six more weeks (almost five now), he would be eighteen and we could, legally, be totally open about our relationship. How people would react could be an entirely different matter. Kurt I was horny as hell all through football practice. Unlike Dylan, I hadn't gone without relief all week. My sweet little slave boy had sucked my cock twice a day, every day. But, this evening, after dinner, I was going to fuck him again. And no matter how horny I was, I'd promised myself I wouldn't cum until I'd fucked him to orgasm. That was the only way Dylan liked it. Being separated, or rather me being kept from pleasuring him, for the last four days had given me a chance to think. Dylan wanted to be my slave. And I loved owning him. I'd continue treating him as my slave, something we both enjoyed, but, in my mind, he was my boyfriend. The issue for me was that he would never tell me what he wanted. All he ever said was, "whatever you want me to do". After a long talk with Dad, I found out that Cory, his lover and Dylan's Uncle, was the same. Dad said that it was my responsibility, as the dom in our relationship, to make sure that Dylan got what he truly wanted. The power and responsibility were an enormous sexual rush, but it was also a lot to shoulder. It seemed to me that being a good master was more difficult than being a good slave. I was changing clothes in the locker room when my best friend Greg came up to me, naked but for a towel wrapped around his waist. He saw me standing there in my knit shorts, holding my tee shirt. "Dude, aren't you going to shower before you go? You are – no offense intended – kind of ripe." I gave him a smile and a wink. "Doesn't your girlfriend like your scent? Because my... um... D loves my scent. Can't get enough of it." He shook his head and said, "I'll never understand D, you are lucky to have found... D. Um... how's D doing?" I stepped up so I could whisper, "He's doing better. Doc says it's okay for me to fuck him this evening." "And his back?" I sighed. "There may be some scarring. Doc says there are creams that can reduce them. D's so insecure that I'm going to need to give him a lot of reassurance. He thinks his only value is his body." Greg didn't know the answer to my dilemma, and he didn't pretend that he did. He gave me a bro hug and said, "You've got this Kurt. You're a great boyfriend. D couldn't be in better hands." "Thanks, bro," I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It may be a good idea for me to share him with you again. Not immediately, but in a week or so. Then you can tell him that he's still sexy as well. He may not believe it, coming just from me." Greg clapped both my shoulders with his hands. "I will be more than happy to help you out with that, bro. Just let me know when." For someone who'd never thought about having sex with a guy before, Greg really seemed to be into Dylan. From the first time he'd seen us lying together in that big gay heap in my living room, he'd been talking about how cute Dylan was. And once he'd realized that Dylan was my boyfriend and not competition for him as my best platonic friend, he'd taken him under his protective wing at school. He really was my best friend. ********** When I came in, the delicious smell of tomatoes, garlic and onions filled the house. I went into the kitchen and saw a beautiful sight. Dylan and Cory were working together to make dinner. Both were dressed in tiny little shorts that showed off their entire leg up to the curve of their buttocks. Cory's was firm and muscular. His cheeks looked fine poking out at me when he bent down to grab a baking sheet from the drawer. But, as far as I was concerned, Dylan's smaller and softer butt was much more arousing. Cory's cheeks showed the signs of a recent spanking, which wasn't surprising since Dad often left his butt a little pink. I hadn't laid a hand on Dylan, but the backs of his thighs and his butt had shiny pink stripes from the newly healing wounds his father had inflicted on him. He was wearing a tee shirt to cover his torso, which wasn't like him. He'd probably glimpsed similar wounds on his back and was embarrassed. I moved stealthily up behind Dylan and wrapped my arms around him. He was washing lettuce leaves for salad, but, when he felt my embrace, he immediately dropped the romaine into the colander and leaned back against me. He grabbed the towel and dried his hands. "I hope that's you, Sir, because if it isn't my master is going to be very upset." I kissed his neck and said, "It's me, sexy slave boy. You look so good that I just want to devour you here in the kitchen." "Don't you want dinner first, Master?" I slid one hand inside his shorts and rubbed his sweet hole, making him moan and lean back into me. Then I pulled my hand out and held my finger to his lips. He opened his mouth and sucked it in. "I suppose I should eat dinner first or I won't have the energy to satisfy you properly, you hot little bitch." I made sure he was steady on his feet before I let him loose. He turned, threw his arms around my neck and buried his face in my chest. He sighed. "I love you, Master." "I love you too, Slave Boy." I patted his butt then went over to give Cory a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. I had no idea what to call him. He was my father's slave, the same way Dylan was mine, but he was kind of like... my stepmom? He'd taken care of Steve and I for so long, even when he didn't live here. Cory said, "Why don't you go sit in the living room, Sir? I'll send Dylan in with a glass of iced tea, and he can take care of you while I get the meatballs done." I gave him an intent look. "When did I become Sir, Cory?" He surprised me by kneeling at my feet and looking up at me. "You became Sir when you become a man instead of a boy. Now that you have your own boy to serve you, you've become one of the men of the house and it's only fitting that I show you the proper respect." A swell of pride ran through me at his words. My relationship with him was changing, and this moment with him kneeling before me felt like a major milestone in my life. "Thank you, Cory. You may rise. And I will be awaiting my slave in the living room." I turned to Dylan and added, "Two slices of lemon this time." I heard the words "Yes, Master, right away" as I walked out of the room and sat down on the love seat. I'd walked right past the recliner because that was Dad's seat and, as mature as I felt right now, I knew that I may be a man, but he was still the man of the house. In a few minutes, Dylan came into the room carrying a small tray with a glass of iced tea, just the way I liked it; two slices of lemon and three ice cubes. He knelt before me, holding the tray out for me to take the glass. I did and he set the tray aside on the coffee table. Then he looked up at me and asked, "Would you like me to remove your socks and shoes for you, Master?" "Is Cory done with you in the kitchen?" He nodded. "Yes, Master. He says that he can fry the meatballs himself and that the salad can wait for me to attend to you properly. He also said that I may have to make the salad without him when his master arrives so that he can attend to him properly." "Then yes. Remove my shoes and socks, Slave Boy." Despite acknowledging me as a master in the house, Cory was still in charge of the agenda. I would have to talk to Dad so that I could figure out the exact nature of our relationship now that Cory was living in the house with us. Dylan lovingly removed my Nike trainers. I smiled when I saw him lift the shoe to take a whiff before setting it aside. He'd left his apron in the kitchen, so I could see his little erection pushing against his shorts. When he pulled my socks off and sniffed them, he trembled slightly, and the front of his shorts dampened. He was really getting off on my scent. He looked up at me with such adoration that I started leaking precum as well. He licked his lips. "Would you like me to massage your feet, Master?" "Go ahead and massage your master's feet, Slave. Why don't you show me how much you love them?" He pulled my left foot to his face and inhaled deeply. "Yes, Master. Just sit back and let me soothe your tired feet and relax you after a hard day." I responded by wiggling my toes against his face. He sighed and began rubbing them. He spent several minutes massaging my feet. He'd never done this for me before, but what he lacked in experience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. He relaxed muscles I didn't even know were stiff. And his touch felt amazing before he started licking them. A single touch would have made me shoot my load when he sucked my toe into his mouth and started massaging it with his tongue. I leaned back to enjoy it, reveling in the wet warmth of his mouth. Dylan handled my feet with the utmost reverence, and the expression on his face demonstrated how much he loved the taste. He cleaned each toe and then ran his tongue between them. By the time he was done, there wasn't a square inch of my foot that hadn't been touched by Dylan's tongue. "You're very good at that, Slave Boy. Who's been giving you lessons in foot massage?" I asked. Dylan looked up at me with a sly smile and explained. "I love your feet, Master, and I've had a lot of time to research foot worship while I was forced to lay around doing nothing. And Uncle Cory gave me some tips." I pulled him into my lap and kissed him. "Well, you did that really well." He could tell how well he'd done from my rock hard erection pressing into his ass. I wanted him so badly right now. All I wanted to do was rip his tiny shorts off and fuck him here on the sofa, but I didn't want to disrespect all the work he and Cory were doing to make dinner for us by putting a glitch in their plans. Instead I held him there and nuzzled his neck. When Dad came home, he sat down in his recliner and Dylan looked into my eyes and said, "I need to go into the kitchen, Master, and do my part to finish dinner." In just a few minutes, Cory came into the room. He was carrying a tray that held a beer. He'd already poured it into a chilled beer glass, but I recognized it from the color as an Elliott Ness Amber Lager, one of Dad's favorites. He knelt in front of the chair and held the tray out for him, just like Dylan had done for me. It was obvious that Cory must have been teaching him this procedure today. Dad took the beer and leaned back. Cory hadn't asked Dad if he wanted a foot massage. He'd come prepared with Dad's slippers. I could have stayed and watched Cory worship my Dad's feet, the way Dylan had done mine, because I wanted to normalize this behavior for each of us, but it felt somewhat intrusive. I'd probably get used to it once the two of them were available to do it at the same time. Instead I went into the kitchen to watch Dylan finish dinner. ********** The two of them had made homemade fettuccine noodles, marinara sauce, meatballs, garlic bread, and salad. Cory and Dylan didn't eat with us. They liked to wait on us during meals and then eat later, just before cleaning up. They were very attentive, refilling drinks and shaving fresh parmesan onto our salads and pasta. Everything was delicious. After dinner, before going into the living room, I went into the kitchen and prepared a plate with salad, a very small amount of pasta, and one of Cory's very large meatballs. I placed it on the kitchen table and made Dylan sit down. "I know that you're still skipping meals, Dylan. I'm trying to be patient, but I want you to eat this entire plate of food." Then I turned to Cory and said, "Don't let him get up until it's done, and don't let him go to the bathroom. I'll let him go before bed." Cory looked skeptical. "That's not a lot of calories, Sir." I patted him on the shoulder. "It will be hard enough getting him to eat all of that. I found remnants of his breakfast or lunch shake under the toilet seat in the upstairs bathroom where it must have splashed when he dumped it in the toilet." Dylan turned red and looked down at the plate I'd put in front of him. I could tell that he was embarrassed at being caught, and also disappointed in himself for failing to follow my instructions about eating consistently. A flash of anger ran through my mind. Steve and I had made sure to show him that we were only asking him to consume the appropriate number of calories and he still resisted. But I didn't let it show, and I forced the anger from my mind. I had to repeat to myself, It isn't Dylan's fault. He needs support, not anger. Then I knelt at Dylan's side and hugged him. "I love you, Dylan. Do you hear that? I love you. And I get so worried about you. I need you to stay healthy. If you can't do it for yourself, then I'm ordering you to do it for me. I'm your master, and you have to obey me, right?" He nodded and whispered, "Yes, Master. I'll do as you order." Cory followed me into the dining room. "I didn't know, Sir. I had no idea he was skipping meals." "It's okay, Cory. I thought he was doing what he was supposed to until I saw the smoothie stains on the toilet. Just watch him. He not only skips meals, sometimes he forces himself to vomit, especially if we make him eat too much. I know he's supposed to want to fix this problem himself, but he can't seem to do it on his own. Once I get him away from his father, I'm going to introduce the idea of counseling to him, but you know what Craig Fucking Morgan is like." He closed his eyes and nodded. I didn't know all the details, but I knew that Cory had been thrown out of his house because of something Pastor Morgan did to him back when he was in high school. He said, "I'll watch him, and I'll try talking to him. I know a little bit about self-destructive behavior. And your father spoke to me about being a positive influence for Dylan, so maybe I can help." Dad was in the living room, so I sat down on the love seat in the spot closest to him. I told him about Dylan not eating again and that I'd enlisted Cory's help to keep an eye on him. Dad seemed to think that was a good idea. Then I turned to the subject I needed to talk to him about. "Dad, there's something odd that happened today. Cory knelt in front of me and called me Sir." Dad nodded and replied, "He and I have been talking about the family dynamic now that he's here permanently. We developed a certain pattern during the years I used to visit him at his apartment, before coming home. We had to find some way to integrate that into our household." He took a drink of his after dinner coffee and appeared deep in thought for a moment. "Cory was the one who brought the subject up, but I agreed with him. You and Steven are both men now. Cory has as much desire to be my slave as Dylan has to be yours. So, from now on, he's going to treat you with the same respect he does me. I think it excites him that he's helped me raise you and now you're graduating to becoming men worthy of his respect." It wasn't an exaggeration that Cory had helped to raise us. He came over whenever Dylan wasn't here and cleaned the house. He cooked for us and, when we were younger, he often drove us to doctors' appointments and trips to buy school clothes when Dad was busy. He was the only mom I could really remember since I was only five years old when my real mother died. "So what does that mean, Dad?" "It means that Cory will obey you. I trust you not to abuse that fact. Also, if he does something that needs correction, you will let him know and then you will record it for me to handle when I come home. I'll do the same with Dylan. When it comes time to discipline them, we'll probably do it in a family meeting." I thought about that for a moment. "Steven probably won't want to be here for that." Dad nodded. "Probably not. We'll make sure he knows about it in plenty of time so he can leave the room. Or maybe we'll use the basement family room." We talked for a little while longer about other things, like work, school, plans for the next week or so. Then Steven came home with a smiling Damian on his arm. They had already eaten, so they sat and chatted for a few minutes before running upstairs to take a shower. From the way Steven's hands kept straying to his lover's ass, I knew that two of them were eager to have sex. A couple of minutes later, Dylan and Cory came into the living room and knelt in front of us. Cory spoke first, looking up at Dad. "We're finished with the cleanup, Master." Dylan was looking at me with anticipation. A quick glance at Dad showed me that Cory was looking at him with the same intensity. Dad saw me staring in his direction. He sighed deeply and said, "Back in the apartment, this is the time when Cory would come into the living area and give me a blowjob. But I think we'll take this to our room until you and Dylan are no longer minors. With that, Dad got up and took Cory to the bedroom with him. I wasn't sure how I felt about the idea of Dad and I being in the same room while our slave boys sucked our dicks. I'd been in the same room with Steven when we were both fucking our lovers, and Greg and I had both fucked Dylan at the same time, but it seemed different with Dad since he was... well, my dad. I filed this topic away as another thing that I would definitely have to sit down and discuss with him. When I looked down at Dylan he had tears in his eyes and his lip was trembling. I had to make a fast decision. What did he need? Did he need his firm and authoritarian master? Or did he need his boyfriend? I didn't know, and I couldn't think of any way to tell, so I decided to go with what I needed instead. And I needed to be his boyfriend. "Come up here, Dylan. I need to speak with you." Dylan stood up and I pulled him onto my lap so that he was straddling my legs. As soon as he was seated, he pressed his face to my chest and started sobbing. "I'm sorry, Master. Sorry, sorry, sorry." I let him cry for a little while and held him. When he calmed down, I asked, "What are you sorry about?" "I've been throwing out half my smoothie every meal, Master. I know you told me to follow the diet plan, but I couldn't. I just... the idea of eating made me want to throw up." I ran my hands down his back and then along his thighs. It was probably my imagination, but he seemed thinner. "Why, Dylan? Can you tell me what you were thinking? I'm not mad. I just want to understand." I held him tighter, and he hugged me like he was afraid to let go. He started crying again, but I could just make out his words. "I'm ugly now, Master, and I don't want to be ugly and fat." "Listen to me, Dylan. You are not ugly. You're a very cute, sweet, and enticing guy. Everyone knows it." "No, they don't, Master. Everyone knows that I'm stupid and weird. And now I'm ugly and... I know that I'm not really fat, but sometimes I don't believe it." I was out of my depth. There was no way I could get Dylan into therapy without his father's permission (at least no way I knew of at that moment), and that bastard wouldn't do anything. He'd be too concerned about how Dylan's problems reflected on him. It had been the same thing with his dyslexia. All I could do is try and reassure him. "Okay, Dylan, I'm going to grant you weird, but your weirdness is one of the things I love about you. Stupid? Not a chance. You learn really well when it's something you're interested in. You've become a great cook and your grade point average is up to a C. And you taught yourself to give amazing foot massages without even having someone to practice on." I just held him for a while. He didn't say anything, so I asked, "What makes you think you're ugly now?" He sniffled and replied, "You haven't fucked me in days, Master... And I know that the doctor said not to, but when I lie around with nothing to do but think, I start having dark thoughts and..." He started crying again. "...Ha... have... have you seen my back, Master?" I took hold of his tee shirt and pulled it up. He didn't say anything or try to stop me, but he cried harder. He was small enough that I could look over his shoulders easily. I'd thought his thighs were bad, but nothing had prepared me to see the mass of pink lines on his back. A flood of anger washed over my body. If Craig Morgan had been in the room, I would have knocked him on his ass and beaten his face until it looked worse than Dylan's back. But I couldn't give in to anger. I had to be calm for Dylan's sake. I lifted his chin and kissed him very gently. "I don't think you're ugly. If you're embarrassed by your back, then I'll let you wear a tee shirt, or those sexy slave tunics we haven't used since Dad came back home. And you know that you're not done healing. Your skin may heal perfectly well on its own, and we'll talk to the doctor to see what else we can do. But I need you to believe that even if these wounds are still visible, it won't change the way I feel about you. At all." "Thank you, Master," he mumbled into my chest. I wrapped him in my arms and carried him up the stairs. He clung to my neck the entire way, and I had to balance him with one hand under his butt while I used the other to spread out a towel. I disentangled him from my body and put him down on the bed. I asked, "Did you need to go get cleaned up?" He shook his head. "I did it when you texted that you were on your way." I took hold of his shorts and pulled them off, exposing his stiff little erection. When it popped into view, I had an urge to kiss it or lick it, but Dylan had always been resistant to me doing anything with his penis. I pulled him to a seated position and removed his tee shirt. Then I sat down on the bed next to him, kissed him gently on the lips again and said, "Turn over, Slave Boy." Dylan gave me an enthusiastic "Yes, Master" and then turned over. I lay down next to him and lifted his collar length hair out of the way so I could kiss the back of his neck. Then I kissed my way down his spine. to the top of his round butt, the only part of him that wasn't thin. Before I went for his hole, I traced the pink skin on his back with my lips, gently kissing every inch of each stripe. He was making the little whimpering noises he usually made when I was eating his ass. I hoped that I was demonstrating to my boyfriend how much I cared for him. Steven had told me over and over again that I was obviously in love with Dylan, but I hadn't realized how totally head over heels I was until he'd been abused by his father. No one was ever going to lay a hand on Dylan again, not in anger, ever, and not in a sexual way, without my permission. Dylan had enjoyed it when I let Greg fuck him. We'd be doing that again, but not right away. I moved down to his sweet bubble butt and separated his cheeks. His hairless pink hole was winking at me, like it always did when he was excited. I leaned in and gave it a precautionary whiff before kissing his rosebud. Then I teased him with my tongue, running it around the edge of the ring and then thrusting past his sphincter muscle. It twitched and clamped down on my tongue. Dylan started moaning louder. "Sorry, Master. I'm so sorry!" "What are you sorry about, Dylan?" He cried, "I'm cumming. I didn't mean to, but I'm cumming." He'd really missed my attention over the last few days. He was cumming just from the feeling of my tongue in his ass. I actually laughed at his reaction. "Don't be sorry, Dylan. Just let it happen. You always have my permission to cum whenever you have any part of my body inside you." "Thank you, Master. You're too good to me, Master." I climbed back up to kiss him. "You deserve this and more, Dylan. Tonight is about me making you feel good." Dylan was panting from the feeling of my fingers rubbing his hole. "I'm supposed to be making you feel good, Master." I whispered in his ear, "Did it ever occur to you, Slave Boy, that it makes your master feel good when he can make you cum? That it makes your master hard to hear you moan and to hear you cry out in pleasure? It makes me feel powerful and masculine when I reduce you to a quivering ball of ecstacy." He smiled; he actually gave me a smile at that. Maybe I was breaking through his dark mood, even if it was just a crack. Then he even made a joke. "Thank you, Master. I'll happily be pleasured so long as it makes you happy." "You bet it does," I said, slapping his butt. Immediately, I felt guilty after what he'd been through. I asked, "Sorry. Are you okay?" Dylan twisted his upper torso around to look at me. "Please, Master! Don't treat me like I'm too fragile to be your slave. It's your right to spank me when I do something wrong or whenever it pleases you... and I... I like it too, but you shouldn't be worried about what I like. You should just take what you want as your right." He was correct. That was the relationship we'd agreed to, even if we hadn't talked about all the specifics. Everything in his expression and his tone of voice said that he needed me to be his Master even more than he needed me as his boyfriend. When I hesitated, Dylan said, "I trust you, Master. I know that you will never cause me any real harm." I stiffened my resolve and set aside the tenderness I'd been expressing so I could give him what he needed. I smacked his pale ass even harder. "That's right, Slave Boy. You'll take what I give you because you have no choice." I moved back down and buried my face in his ass. I thrust my tongue inside him and tasted his sweet muskiness. I made out with his hole until it became loose and sloppy. Then I thrust two fingers inside him to tease his p-spot. And I was rewarded with his hole spasming around my fingers. Dylan was cumming again. "I love it when you cum from my mouth or my fingers in your hole. You really are a slutty little slave boy, aren't you?" "Yes, Master! I'm your slutty slave boy!" I turned him over and placed our fuck pillow under his hips. He had cum all over his belly and his little penis was coated. "Are you going to cum for me again, Slave Boy? Are you going to cum from my giant mutant monster dick?" He smiled for real and said, "I love your giant magical magnificent dick, Master, and I'll cum if I need to. That's the way it should be. You're the master and I'm the slave." I started lubing his ass. He looked at me and said, "You can try it without lube, Master. I feel wet and relaxed." I smacked his thigh. "NO, Dylan. My cock is ten inches long and really fucking thick. I will never hurt you that way, so stop asking!" I knew that I was too big, and he was too small, for him to take my dick without lube. Dylan mumbled, "Sorry, Master." I kissed him as I worked three fingers in his ass. "Don't be sorry. Just understand that it's my job to know what's best for you and I will never do anything I think has a possibility of hurting you." Then I lubed my cock well and pushed it inside him slowly. I loved the look on his face as he took my cock to the root. His eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolled up and his mouth opened while he breathed hard. And his ass was so tight that it felt like he was squeezing my cock in a fist. When I reached his second sphincter, I thrust forward slowly with gentle, but unrelenting, pressure, until he opened and let me inside. And that was the third time his penis began oozing cum. There was no way that I was going to last long with his tightness and his two sphincters clenching and relaxing against me. I pulled almost all the way out and then thrust inside again. Now that Dylan had gathered his wits, he started working his ass, relaxing while I thrust inside and clenching tight while I pulled out. I felt the pressure rising in my cock and then I thrust all the way inside and held it there. At that moment, Dylan's holes started spasming again and I shot my load deep inside his colon. "Wow, Master! I came four times while you were inside me!" Dylan panted. I kissed him, thrusting my tongue inside and claiming his mouth the way my cock had claimed his ass. We made out while my dick slowly deflated, and we continued kissing while Dylan's ass teased my cock back to life so I could fuck him again. We made up for the four days we'd missed, well almost. I fucked him three times that night. He didn't cum every time, but he did cum one last time when I finished round three. Then we lay together, spooned in our bed. I kissed his back again and said, "Don't ever think that you're not worthy of me. In my mind, you are perfect." Dylan pressed back against me. "I love you, Master." I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. "And I love you, Dylan, my own perfect little slave boy." Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 120 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps, six years her senior and the manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He is of average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscles, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah. ● Jamie Beck. 25 year old manager of an apartment complex. His dad owns the place but leaves Jamie to run it onsite as he owns multiple other rental properties. Jamie is a gay submissive who has surrendered himself to Donny Morgan. He's totally in love with him. He's a handsome, fit guy. Average height and weight, but well-toned from working out a lot. He has brown hair and brown eyes. ● Josephine "Josie" Kurtz. A doctor who's in a relationship with Phyllis MacDonald. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father's. He stands 6 feet tall and weighs 175 pounds. He is muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness. ● Patrick O'Rourke. A 14-year-old sophomore who turns 15 before the end of September. He's gay and has a mysterious boyfriend who lives out of town. Tommy Morgan decides to turn him into his bitch, but Patty is more than willing to play. ● Phyllis MacDonald. A lawyer and friend of Roger Groth. She handles a lot of civil rights cases, including LGBTQIA+ cases. She's in a relationship with Josie Kurtz. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/suits-you-sir/suits-you-sir-2
Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2023 16:03:21 +0000 From: Nicky Deu Subject: Suits You Sir - Chapter 2 Please find the next instalment in my debut series. There is a lot more to come and I have already started chapter 3 alongside a new story as well. If you have any feedback please do contact me on the email above. I would love to hear from you. If you can, please donate to Nifty if you want to continue to read stories like this and many more. I am sure you will agree that this is a place of many fantasies that we all have and don't want to lose. Suits You Sir - Chapter 2 "I've opened him up for you," said Bill as I felt his cock leave my now gaping hole. Kenny was still ramming his cock down my throat; he was moaning like crazy. "Get him down Kenny," ordered Thomas. And just like that Kenny lifted me off the table and stood me on the ground. My cock was forming a tent in the jocks I was wearing. "Look at this little fag's cock standing at attention," Mike exclaimed. I was aching to touch it and blow my load but I knew I couldn't. "Service him then," said Thomas. I was shocked. I thought I was a slave to these men but the boss had spoken and it seemed that Mike knew better than to question the boss. He immediately came and kneeled before me. He took down my jocks and threw them across the room. My dick was aching to be touched. He immediately took it in his mouth and deep throated me. He had done this before, he was a pro. I moaned loudly and the other men all gathered around. Thomas motioned for Kenny to eat my ass. I was in absolute ecstasy. I felt like I was gonna blow my load there and then but I knew I had to hold it. What happened next shocked me. While Mike and Kenny were servicing me, Thomas and Bill started kissing. Watching their tongues made me even more horny than I already was. Then Thomas got down on his knees and took Bill's cock in his mouth, I think this shocked the whole room. Everyone watched intently as Thomas sucked Bill's big cock whilst playing with his own. Thomas was a pro cock sucker and managed to get the whole thing which must have been at least 9 inches all the way down his throat. Bill grabbed Thomas' head and face fucked him hard. Watching these two big, burly men was hot as fuck and everyone was enjoying the show. Thomas then stood up and came over to Mike, Kenny and me. Close up, I was wrong. Thomas's cock was bigger than Bill's. Mike stood up and Kenny stopped eating out my ass. Thomas came closer and kissed me, his tongue was all over my mouth and he grabbed hold of my cock and jerked me off. He then walked me back over to the table. He lay down first on his back, his hard cock waiting for me to sit on it. Kenny helped me on the table and I sat on Thomas' hard cock. It hurt because it was much bigger than Bill's but I soon got used to it filling my hole and I bounced up and down on it. Kenny got on the table too and I started to suck his cock. I was back to servicing two of these fine men. This left Bill and Mike to their own devices. I watched Bill walk up to Mike and kiss him, then back him up to the table. Mike leant on the table face down with his ass in the air. Bill got on his knees and started to eat out Mike's ass. Meanwhile, Thomas was pounding my ass hard and I was taking it like the good little faggot I had become. Kenny was also drilling his cock down my throat. He was fucking my face so hard he announced he was about to cum. "Tell me you want my fat load down your throat boy," he snarled. "Please sir, give me your load," I begged. That was all the encouragement he needed. Streams and streams of cum unloaded from his very hard cock and I lapped it all up not spilling a drop. "Uh, the faggot ate it all," he said. Whilst I cleaned up the last bits of cum from Kenny's cock, Thomas was pounding my ass harder. He grinned at me menacingly and said "The boy needs another cock in his ass, come fuck him with me Bill". I kind of froze. I could just about handle one of these humongous cocks in me let alone 2. I didn't have a choice but to take it though. Bill left Mike's ass and immediately came over. He started to lube me up some more and then got on the table. He started off gentle and eased the head of his cock into my ass. I let out a whimper, this was gonna hurt like hell. He pushed a little more and the shaft was now in. I again, moaned out loud. "Take it boy," whispered Bill down my ear. That was it, he was all the way in, he started grinding me slowly then both he and Thomas started pounding me. I let out another loud moan as the two cocks were pounding away. Meanwhile, it seemed as though Mike was being treated as much as a faggot as I was but it was his turn to get some ass. He and Kenny kissed and then Mike pushed Kenny up against the table where he dropped to his knees and ate his ass out. Kenny was loving it and moaned and moaned. Mike stood up and lent Kenny over the table. "Hey man, go slow ain't nobody ever fucked me before bro," Kenny said. This seemed to excite Mike and he didn't seem to hold back. He slid his cock deep into Kenny's ass. Kenny let out a loud whimper and told Mike not to stop. The room was full of faggots. "Boy, your ass is so fucking sweet," said Thomas. By this point I was taking both cocks like a pro. I was playing with my cock and was close to blowing my load. "Sir, can I blow my load?" I asked. "This kid is gonna make me cum with all this sir shit," laughed Thomas. "Hold it, Ryan," said Bill. Mike was fucking Kenny hard and I could tell they were both fucking horny. "I'm gonna blow my load in your ass and the little faggot is gonna clean it out of you bro," said Mike. The prospect of eating more cum was getting me excited. "That gives me an idea," said Thomas. With that, he told Bill to pull out of me, which he did and then Thomas did as well. I won't lie, my gaping hole felt so empty now and I was sad about it. "I need a piss, I'll be back in a moment," said Bill. "Wait," said Kenny who was still being fucked by Mike. "We have our very own toilet in this room and I'm sure the fag will comply with all of our orders, ain't that right faggot boy?" Kenny asked. I had never heard of something so disgusting in my life but at the same time I was very intrigued. "Kenny, you may be onto something here," said Thomas. Fuck, I knew if Thomas was interested in the idea then it was going to happen. Piss? I don't know how I felt about it but I was going to find out soon. "Get on your knees boy," said Bill. His demeanor had changed and rather than being friendly towards me he was acting like the other 3 guys. I didn't care, I kinda liked it. I obliged and got down on my knees in front of him. He shoved his cock in my mouth and all of a sudden I felt the stream of piss pour out. I struggled to keep the flow in my mouth and it poured out. The warm piss actually tasted better than I thought it was going to. "Swallow it all down boy," Bill told me. I did as I was told and swallowed every drop. At this point the other 3 men had surrounded me watching me swallow the stream of Bill's piss. "This faggot will do anything for us boss," Mike said as I was lapping up the last of Bill's piss. I was a slave to these 4 men and they knew it. Mike stepped up to me. He slid his cock into my mouth and rammed it down my throat. I gagged because I wasn't expecting him to be so rough. He fucked my mouth fast and before we both knew it he moaned out in pleasure as streams and streams of cum oozed into the back of my throat. "Swallow every last little drop you fucking fag," he told me in complete pleasure and that I did. I was being used by these guys like their lives depended on it but I knew they weren't done with me yet. "Come here boy," Thomas instructed me towards him so I stood up and then went to kneel before him. "Stay standing," he told me. I was wondering what he was planning and I was excited by his authority. Nobody was going to say no to him so whatever he was going to come up with next was going to be good. "Kenny, bend over the desk. We're going to give Ryan here a little fun of his own," Thomas laughed. My cock immediately became harder than it already was. The thought of fucking Kenny was hot, his ass had already been taken by Mike and it was ready for me. "Tongue fuck his ass boy," instructed Thomas. I dropped to my knees and ate out Kenny's ass. It tasted so good "Yeah you little faggot, eat that hole," Kenny bellowed. I obliged and ate out his hole getting it ready for a pounding from my cock. Thomas stood me up, "Okay boy, fuck him," he instructed me. My cock was about 8 inches hard but it was thick. I started to enter Kenny's hole. He whimpered a little but took it, I started off slow but quickly gained pace and started pounding Kenny's hot ass. "Not only can the fag take a cock but he can give it too," laughed Kenny. Suddenly I felt a presence behind me. It was Thomas. Finally! He was going to fuck me with his big cock again. "Gentlemen, line up. Bill you can fuck me and Mike, fuck Bill," instructed Thomas. No fucking way. And just like that, all 5 of us were standing in a line fucking each other. As Thomas boned me, Bill boned him and Mike boned Bill and I of course was boning Kenny. This is what dreams are made of. I reached out my hand and started playing with Kenny's cock. "Yeah boy, jerk me off" he instructed. Thomas leant in and whispered to me, he told me my ass was the best he had ever fucked which made me feel like a million dollars. Mike announced that Bill had the tightest hole he had ever fucked and Bill took the fucking. Thomas grunted every time Bill thrusted his hips and buried his cock deep inside his ass. My cock was deep inside Kenny and I by now desperately needed to cum. "I'm gonna cum," Kenny exclaimed. This was about to be his second time and I was jealous. I felt Thomas' cock slide out of my ass and I had that empty feeling again. "Who wants to give the boy their load?" Thomas asked which got me very excited. Everyone gathered around me and started touching me all over. I was so close to blowing my own load but knew I had to wait for the instruction to be able to. "Bill, suck your boy's cock and make him cum," instructed Thomas. I had never before thought about being sucked off by my boss but the prospect of this happening now was making me hornier by the second. As I was standing amongst the men who had made me their sex slave, Bill came and kneeled in front of me. My cock was standing to attention and he took it his mouth. With one move, he took the whole shaft down his throat. I let out a moan of ecstasy and that was all it took. Globs and globs of cum streamed from my cock into Bill's mouth. "Don't swallow yet," came a voice which I think was Thomas. "I want a taste of the boy's man juice," it was Thomas. I had finished blowing my load and Bill stood up and stood in front of Thomas. They played with each other's cocks while swapping my load between their mouths. It was the hottest thing I had seen and then they involved me. The 3 of us just stood, kissing, snowballing until I think I had all of it in my mouth. "Swallow boy," instructed Thomas, which I did. Thomas then got me to drop to my knees. All four men surrounded me stroking their dicks about to unleash their loads on me. "Suck this you slut," Kenny piped up and I obliged. His cock slid down my throat and I took it all down like a professional cock sucker. He fucked my face hard and I could tell he was close. There was almost a silence in the room apart from the moans everyone was making while jerking their cocks. Then with no warning, Kenny's cock erupted and ropes and ropes of cum ran down my throat. He kept jerking in and out of my mouth and ordered that I take every single drop which I did. It tasted fucking amazing and I was enjoying each mouthful. Mike pulled me towards him and shoved his cock into my mouth. He was ready to explode and it didn't take long before he was face fucking me as hard as Kenny did, within seconds he erupted in my mouth too. He, too, told me not to waste a drop and I made sure that I didn't. His cum tasted good too and I swallowed it all down. He went over to Kenny and they started kissing. Both men satisfied after cumming twice. Bill and Thomas hovered over me. I looked up at them both and they smirked. They were ready to give me their loads. Thomas lifted me up and helped me get on the table. I was on my hands and knees and he pulled me back. Bill stood in front of me and forcefully pushed his cock into my mouth. Whilst I was distracted by Bill's cock, Thomas was slipping his cock into my ass. Being fucked by these two daddies at the same time was getting me hard again. My cock twitched and I started to play with it. Thomas fucked my ass hard, ramming his cock in and out as hard as he could. "Tell me you want my load boy," he grunted. " Please sir, fill my hole with your load" I begged. I felt Bill tug on my hair and fuck my face harder. "You wanna taste my load boy?" Stupid question of course I did. Both men grunted and shoved their cocks deep down my throat and deep down my ass. And in sync they both released their loads. They gasped and unloaded their dicks at the same time streams and streams of cum filled my mouth and ass together and it felt so fucking good. Thomas grunted and rammed his cock into my ass one last time before sliding out of me and getting down on his knees. I swallowed every last drop of Bill's cum and he knew it. He bent down and kissed me and told me I was a good little slut. Thomas told me to release his cum from my ass which I did and he lapped it up. He stood up and positioned me so I was now on my back with my head slightly leaning off the table. He held my mouth open and spit the cum he had collected from my ass into my mouth. I swallowed every last drop of his sweet nectar, it tasted just as good as Bill's did. My cock was still standing to attention and the first person to notice it was Kenny. He came over to the table and immediately took my cock in his mouth and deepthroated me. Mike then came over and did the same. Then to my surprise Kenny stood over me and sat on my cock. He hovered over sliding his sweet ass up and down my shaft. It didn't take long before I was about to blow my load into his sweet ass. I shot load after load until my balls were empty. Mike lay down on the table on his back and assumed the same position as me. With that, Kenny stood up and positioned his ass right above Mike's mouth. Kenny then let my sweet cum drop out of his ass right into Mike's mouth which was so fucking hot. Bill came over to me and lifted me up. He told me that I was to be ready and willing every Thursday from now on where I would be a good little slut for Thomas, his boys and him. I nodded in agreement and looked forward to the next fuck session we were going to have.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/suits-you-sir/suits-you-sir-1
Date: Fri, 17 Nov 2023 17:21:00 +0000 From: Nicky Deu Subject: Suits You Sir Chapter 1 This is my first story. I think authoritarian stories are really hot and wanted to give writing one a go. Please send any feedback to me via email at: [email protected] and I will take all constructive feedback on board before writing the sequel. Happy reading. Suits You Sir I was working in a suit shop, selling high end suits to men from all over the country. My boss, Bill, was a cool guy. He taught me all about measuring up and how a suit should fit. Over the 3 years that I worked for him he gifted me many suits, shirts and ties. I felt so good when I wore them. Bill always insisted that we should always attempt to look smart and presentable in the shop. Afterall, we were selling a smart item. Bill was a married man in his 50s and was a good man. He had 3 kids all of whom were grown up and either in college or working good jobs. I knew college wasn't for me so I decided to get this job as a stopgap to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. At 19, I felt like I didn't have to make the decision right now. The shop was constantly busy and had a few regular customers. There was one guy called Thomas, who I found slightly creepy but endearing at the same time. Thomas was a rich and powerful man. He must have brought a new suit every 2 or 3 weeks. He came into the shop with his bodyguard and personal shopper. All 3 of these guys were burly and large. At 19 I was slim but tall and I had just started going to the gym on Bill's suggestion. He said I needed to fill out the shirts more. Thomas and his 2 guys who were called Kenny and Mike had come into the shop early and almost 3 hours later they were still trying to find the "perfect fit". Thomas was throwing a party in a few weeks and all 3 men needed suits. Bill and I were tending to their every need and even closed the shop to other patrons so we could give them our full attention. Kenny was a big man, he was tall and muscly, his skin was dark and perfect. Mike was slightly smaller but still towered over me. Thomas was the biggest of the 3, muscles galore and tall too. He was always tanned. Thomas wanted me specifically to measure him up as he said I did such a good job last time. We went to the fitting room and I knelt down before him. He asked me to measure round his thighs - a request he had never made before. He told me he wanted the pants to be well fitted. I complied with his request, his legs were so big and wide that it was a struggle for me to reach round and measure up. I could have sworn I accidentally touched his manhood but he didn't say anything to me. I looked up at him and he smiled down on me. I carried on measuring up and wrote everything down. I asked if there was anything else he wanted to add, he said no and I went to leave the fitting room. Thomas pulled me back in and said there was something. I politely asked what it was and to my shock he grabbed hold of his crotch. He candidly asked me if I liked copping a feel and I started to explain that it was an accident but he cut me off. He said it was okay and he knew a faggot when he saw one. I was shocked and immediately started to tell him that I wasn't one. Again he cut me off. He told me to get back down on my knees as he pulled out his massive cock. When I say massive it must have been 10 inches long and 5 inches wide. My eyes widened as I just stared at it in disbelief. "Put it in your mouth faggot". "I'm not a faggot" I snapped back. "Ha you think I give a fuck boy? Put it in your mouth". "I gotta go" I said as I attempted to leave the room. "You don't take instruction very well do you boy? I said, get on your fucking knees and put my cock in your fucking faggot mouth." Thomas said angrily. He started to push me down to the ground and I complied. "Is everything going okay in there?" A familiar voice echoed through the closed door of the fitting room. It was Bill and I thought he was going to save me and have me come out of the room. "Yeah, all good Bill. Ryan is just helping me with some measurements. We may be together for a while so you help my boys out." Shit. I was trapped with nowhere to go. I was now on my knees and Thomas' cock was swinging in front of my face. It was huge and there was no way I knew how to suck cock. "Put it in your mouth boy". I took a deep breath and took the head in my mouth, already my mouth was filled. "Deeper." I could barely breathe but I took more of the huge member in my mouth. "Watch your teeth faggot." I had never sucked a cock before so I had no clue what I was doing. Thomas jerked and thrust his dick further down my throat which made me gag and choke. He laughed but kept going. I couldn't breathe and was gagging heavily. He laughed again and took his cock out of my mouth. "Maybe you ain't a faggot afterall, but after today you will be" he said menacingly. He pulled me by my hair and stood me up. "How did my dick taste boy". By this point I felt like the only way I was going to get out of this in one piece was to comply. "It tasted good sir". He laughed again and said "Hmm, sir I like it". He grabbed hold of my tie and pulled me close to him. He kissed me but immediately put his tongue in my mouth. We kissed for what felt like an eternity and I think I liked it. Then he pulled away. "You have impressed me, Ryan. In all the time I have been coming here I have always wanted to fuck you. I think today might be the day. What do you think?" Fuck me?! I was terrified at this point. I had not even thought about a man in that way. I was too busy fucking pussy to even think about that. I liked pussy. But again, I feel like I had to comply. "Whatever you say sir" I almost whispered. I felt like a sissy. "Good." Said Thomas with a menacing grin. "See, you are a faggot afterall." I half smiled. "Do you like your boss boy? Bill is his name right?" Thomas asked. "Yeah he's a cool boss sir" I replied. "Well boy, you are in for a shock. You see Bill asked me and the boys to come here today. We don't actually need suits. Bill wants to fuck you. But he wanted company. So here we are". "What?" I asked in disbelief. "You are going to have 4 cocks in you today boy and you are going to take them all" and with that he wolf whistled signaling the other guys to come into the room. Bill, Kenny and Mike all waded into the fitting room which was well equipped for the activities about to take place. There was a table in the middle of the room which is where I assumed my ass was going to be torn apart. "Look Ryan, I know this may be a bit of a shock but trust me, you are going to have a good time" said Bill trying to justify what was about to take place. "Yo boss, is this puny little faggot gonna take all our dicks?" Kenny piped up. "This kid hasn't ever taken a dick before, you can tell." said Mike. "That is why we are going to show him how to take one, or 4" laughed Thomas. I was worried, these guys were huge. Thomas' dick was huge let alone the others. "There is no need to look worried boy, we are going to take good care of you. I came prepared" with that, Thomas pulled out a large tube of lube. "Okay, let's get this party started gentlemen," said Bill. He pulled me close to him and started to kiss me, putting his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues wrestled a little before he started kissing down my neck. He pulled on my tie and then let his hands wander down to my pants. He touched my dick which was semi hard, maybe I was a faggot afterall. "The boy is getting hard, he is into men after all" exclaimed Bill. He started to undo my tie and unbutton my shirt. "The gym is working for you Ryan, you're getting buff by the day" he said. He then undid my pants which revealed my bulging underwear. The other guys were starting to get undressed too. Looking at their toned abs, I guess I was starting to get excited about the prospect of these guys fucking me. I was now butt naked and they were touching me all over, including my now hard cock. Bill held out a pair of jocks. "Put these on boy" and I complied. Mike was next to stick his tongue in my mouth, he was sensual and sexy with it. Then came Kenny, he was rougher but still gave passion with it. "On your knees boy," said Thomas. He came and stood in front of me and I knew what to do. I took his stiffening cock into my mouth and sucked on it. He thrust deep down my throat, I did gag a fair few times before I got into a rhythm and managed to take about half of it down my throat. "Yeah faggot, you're a good little cock sucker aren't you." I nodded whilst he rammed more of his hard cock down my throat. He was kissing Bill at the same time whilst Kenny was getting his huge black cock sucked by Mike. I could hear his moans and they were turning me on. Having Thomas' big cock in my mouth was also a turn on. "I wanna see what we're working with here boss" said Kenny. He lifted me up and placed me on the table on my hands and knees. At this point Bill and Mike swapped positions. I was now sucking on Bill's big cock and Mike was sucking off Thomas. This left Kenny to explore and open up my ass. I felt his big finger start to finger the outside of my hole. Meanwhile I was gagging on the size of Bill's cock. It must have been bigger than Thomas'. "For someone who has never sucked a cock in his life, you are a natural boy" moaned Bill in complete pleasure. Meanwhile, Kenny was ready to take my anal virginity with a finger, he wasn't shy about it either. Up until that point I had remained relatively silent, but the finger in my butt made me squeal in pain. "Hell, this fucker is tight as fuck. He needs to be opened up" said Kenny. And with that went the second finger. This time I let out more of a pain noise and that seemed to spur him on more. His fingers which weren't small fucked my hole. He started to get faster and faster. He was satisfied that I was ready but wanted to get a taste of my hole first. He slipped in his tongue and fucked me with that for a while. "He is ready, boys," Kenny announced. With that I clenched my hole. But Kenny was sure to open it back up by sliding his fingers inside me. "Bill, take him," said Thomas. I still couldn't quite get my head around what was happening. I was butt naked, with 4 other butt naked men who wanted to use me as their plaything. Whilst all this was going on in my mind I felt something at the entrance to my hole. It was the head of Bill's cock. I was on my knees with my ass out in the air, for anyone to take. Bill wanted it. "Ahhh" I screamed in pain as the head entered my hole. I was in agony and Bill knew it. "Ride through the pain boy, take it like a man," he said. It was so painful, I needed a distraction and to think about something else. And just like that the distraction came. I was sucking off Kenny's big cock. He was moaning in pleasure. "The boy has become an expert cock sucker in just half an hour," he laughed. Bill was all the way inside me with his cock now and he was thrusting hard. "I have wanted to fuck this hole since the day you walked through the door boy," he moaned as he fucked me harder and harder. "I can see why now," said Thomas who was still getting sucked off by Mike. Kenny was ramming his cock harder and harder down my throat. This was a distraction from the pounding my ass was getting from Bill who was very much enjoying burying his huge cock deep in my ass. "Okay, I think the boy can take it from me now," Thomas said. I looked around the room and all I could see were hard cocks and big men. They all wanted a piece of my ass and I was going to give them all what they wanted.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-3
Date: Wed, 02 Aug 2023 16:39:07 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga - Part 3 Office Urinal Saga: Part 3 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). Part 3 introduces the 3rd of 4 regulars. I'll revisit all 4 in future parts. All 4 are based at least in part on true events and real men, but the embellishments will continue to grow until eventually the story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ Work had gotten busy and was really eating into my office extracurriculars. I was horny, per usual, but before I knew it most days were over before I had any chances to be the slut I craved to be (I was maintaining my Wednesday appointments with Master, of course, at least the days he showed up). It was one of those busy days when my phone buzzed: "Hey boy, how goes?" It was Dad! He prefers Dad to Daddy, which is fine with me. He's an achingly gorgeous middle aged hunk with a mat of black fur all over his body, with streaks of grey here and there. We'd met on Scruff years ago, when I was single and just beginning to learn about my piggy desires. He'd taught me many new things. He is one of those rare fully versatile and truly no limits men. He has done and enjoyed it all. I'm incredibly lucky to have had him as a mentor. Our communications became sporadic over time when discretion became important but, as evidenced by the text, we still connected occasionally. "Dad! Things are good. Hectic. You?" I replied. "Good here too. You need some nut?" Dad replied immediately. My cock was already hard but jumped when I read it. It was his usual way of saying he was horny and needed a mouth. I checked the time and my calendar - it would make for an even crazier day but I could swing it (I needed this!). "Yes sir, badly!" I responded eagerly. I waited for his reply and thought about what he might have in mind. Dad loved to keep me on my toes. "I'll be in front of your building in 10" he said. "Perfect. I'll be ready" I replied immediately. Ten minutes later I was standing on the sidewalk watching Dad drive up in his big black truck. It had a huge extended cab with tinted windows. I knew it well, I'd done many deeds in that back seat. The front as well. I smiled as he stopped in front of me. I pulled open the back door and hopped in. "You know the rules, boy" Dad said before I was even sitting. I did, in fact, know the rules. Boys couldn't wear clothes in Dad's truck. I quickly undressed and then buckled in. "Atta boy. You thirsty?" I was always thirsty, obviously, but this took me off guard. Dad was into piss but was a bit pee shy. I'd only gotten to drink from him once, when he'd held it all day and bladder shyness wasn't an issue. "Yes sir. I'm always thirsty, Dad" I replied. "Ha. I know you are, boy. Well here you go, drink up" he says as he reaches back with a sports bottle. I grabbed the bottle slightly confused but obediently took a sip. A grin grew on my face as I realized what it was. Dad had pissed in the bottle for me to enjoy. I looked in the rear view mirror so we could make eye contact and started chugging away. "Haha I thought you'd like that. Made that bottle after the gym before texting you. Such a good piss pig" Dad said through a smile as he watched me guzzle his piss. It was a little strong and bitter, but I didn't struggle at all. I happily finished the bottle and thanked him as soon as it was done. I'd been so lost in my piss trance that I hadn't been paying attention to where we were going. Naked in the back seat chugging a bottle of piss. Such a pig whore. But now that my bottle was empty I looked around. We were in a parking garage headed down. There were a few cars but not a ton. And I didn't see any people. Finally, Dad backed into a remote spot and parked the truck. He turned around in his seat and said: "Alright boy, get out and head to the back of the truck. Leave your clothes in the cab. There are a pair of tennis shoes in my gym bag you can put on" With that, he got out and walked to the back. I hesitated for a second. Naked in public was nothing new to me but this was a step further. My cock betrayed me though as it stood straight up as I sat on the leather seat. So before I could chicken out I grabbed Dad's bag, found the shoes, slipped them on and opened the door. With as much confidence as I could muster I strode to the back. "There's my naked pig boy" Dad proudly proclaimed at me as I stopped in front of the tailgate. "Now open the gate and hop on up, then get on your knees facing me" Dad instructed as his hand patted my furry bubble butt. As I did as I was told Dad started to undress. He was an exhibitionist himself and wouldn't pass an opportunity to be nude in public. As I got to my knees on the bed of the truck I watched as he shed his shirt and then the pants, folding them and placing on the tailgate. He was so fucking sexy. Finally he was just wearing a jock. I could tell it wasn't a fresh one. Sweat and piss stains were obvious. My mouth was watering. His grin showed that he knew the effect he was having on me. He grabbed the sides of his jock and slowly dropped them to the ground. His perfect, 7" uncut cock popped up at full mast in the process. He picked the jock up. "Catch son" he said as he tossed them to me. I reached out and caught them. Without needing to be told I immediately brought to my face and inhaled. His musk was like a drug. The only poppers I ever needed. "I've been wearing them for 2 weeks every day. Shot 4 loads into it. Soaked it in piss. Dried my sweaty ass with it. You can keep `em." Dad says this while climbing up onto the bed of the truck with me. His naked body looking glorious in the garage lighting. "You can play with that later though. Now it's time to feed: suck my cock boy" I didn't need to be told twice. I wrapped Dad's dirty jock around my own cock before leaning forward and taking his manhood into my mouth. Now, I've sucked a lot of cock. But Dad's cock has always been my favorite. It's the perfect size, perfect thickness, perfect flavor. It's just perfect. Dad's balls are perfect too. I alternate between taking the cock deep in my throat and stuffing the balls into my mouth. I know what drives him. I know how to milk Dad's cum. And I'm on a mission. "Easy there, killer! Dad needs to nut but wants to play a little first!" He says as he pulls back so his cock head is resting just on the tip of my outstretched tongue. Turning around, dad looks back as he bends over. "Get your tongue in my hole, boy." I immediately crawl forward and dive my face into his mountainous fur covered ass. I held onto his thighs to pull myself further into him as he held his cheeks open for easier access. "Fuck boy! Your tongue feels so fucking good. Go deeper! Fuck my hole with your tongue boy!" Dad all but shouted in ecstasy. He was clearly trying to keep his voice down for discretion but his horniess made it difficult. Dad has always been very verbal. He knows what he wants and says it. I finally have to pull back and catch my breath. The heat and musk of Dad's hole still radiating on my face. He straightens up and turns around. "Your turn, boy, turn around and let me see that boy hole" I obey and put my ass up in the air, reaching back and holding my cheeks open just as he has been. I feel dad grab the jock that has been hanging from my rigid cock. He takes it and brings it to my mouth. "Open up. Can't have you moaning like a whore," he said as he gagged my mouth with his filthy jock. "Hmpssrr" is my incoherent gagged reply. "Hehe good boy" Dad says as he returns to my presented ass and begins to chow down. To say he is a seasoned, expert rimmer simply doesn't do it justice. The pleasure he can impart with his mouth on a hole is immeasurable. As he buries his tongue in my ass my muffled moans and drool soaks the jock and my cock throbs. I can feel his tongue mining deep in my boy hole. If anyone was ever to get me to orgasm just from a rimjob, it would be Dad. However, he stops before that becomes a possibility. I feel his tongue on my back, then my legs, then my ass cheeks, then my balls. He's bathing my body with his masterful tongue. Finally he stands back up and proclaims that it's time. "I don't have time to fuck today boy, but we'll definitely be back here soon to do that. For now, come finish me off and swallow my load." I jump to obey and get to work. I work my tongue over his shaft as I go up and down on his cock. I tease the piss slit. I cup his hairy balls. I use them to gauge when to go as deep as I can. As they begin to rise up and tighten I know it's nearly time. Dad is barely concealing his moans and growls. I shove my face down as far as I can, my nose buried in his bush, my throat tight around his cock. I open it up as best I can, look up to make eye contact and constrict my muscles knowing this would send him over the edge. "Fuuuuuck boy! Swallow it!" Dad gasps out as I feel his cock throb and begin to shoot load after load directly down my eager throat. I keep my eyes up as I breathe through my nose and wait for him to come back to earth. He finally composes himself and pulls his spent wet cock out of my mouth. He comes down onto his haunches and looks me in the eyes. "You're such a good cocksucking pig. My good boy" he declares as he pulls my face into his and gives me a deep kiss. "Thanks Dad" I say after he releases me and steps back. "Before we go, I want you to add a load to that jock. Jerk off into it now." I jumped at the order and grabbed the jock. I knew it wouldn't take much to get my load out. I stared at Dad's eyes as he watched his boy stroke. Not 15 seconds later I say "here it comes, Dad" and my cum fires into the already soaked dirty jock. "Good boy!" Dad praised before saying "now get back in the cab. I'm running late." I stand up and walk to the tailgate, jump down and walk to the cab with Dad's gift in my hand. Dad dresses behind the truck, now commando since he gave me his underwear. I enter the cab and wait for him to get back in the front. "Go ahead and get your clothes on while I drive, boy" Dad instructs and I obey. We drive in silence as I dress until we pull in front of my office and he turns around in his chair smiling. "Go back to work and think about my nut resting in your belly mixing with my piss. Who's Dad's good boy?" "Yes Dad, I am, sir!" I reply as I open the door and get out. The jock in my hand is a bit awkward but I have it crumpled into my fist as best I can. I look back once more to Dad's truck. He looks over, winks and grins, and then drives off. I walk back to my office, put Dad's jock in my bag and get back to work thinking about his piss and cum in my belly wondering when I'll get to taste him again.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/from-jock-stud-to-jock-slut/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-11
Date: Sun, 30 Jun 2024 18:53:47 +0000 From: AJ <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 11 Office Urinal Saga: Part 11 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and some real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] I get hard writing it. I love to know you get hard reading it. ------------ Work was busy. Life was hectic. The routine was fumbled. After my last encounter with Sport, I'd received an unexpected promotion at work. Which is great. But before I knew it it was months without serving any of my regulars - except for Sir who I was so an everyday urinal for. I guess you can be a successful manager or a successful faggot but not both? Or maybe I wasn't trying hard enough. Today was the day I got back on my feet. Or rather, my knees. I grabbed the envelope of cash that Sir had given me. I shot my team a message letting them know I'd be taking the afternoon off and left my office heading for the hotel. I booked a room, paid and headed up. Once there, and after getting naked of course, I first text all the regulars whom I had numbers for (Dad, Coach and Sport) giving them the room number and explaining that I was open for business and I'd be there the rest of the day. Then I placed an ad online - the usual "faggot for use" stuff. And waited. Dad had responded almost immediately saying he was coming right away. That got me excited. Some one on one time with Dad would be great while waiting for more men to show up. He must have been in the area already because only minutes later there is a knock at the door. I open it up and there he is, naked already. I remembered how our last hotel visit went: faggots don't get to wear clothes in the room. He hadn't forgotten. Man I loved my fagdad. He grabbed his pile of clothes and came in with a grin. "Hey, Dad! Great to see you," I said as I wrapped my arms around him and brought him in for a kiss. "Hey there boy, looking sexy as ever," he responded and then walked into the room. I followed, at his beautiful naked body. My cock responding immediately to full attention. "I gotta piss, son, on your knees," he said once he folded his clothes into a pile with mine. "Yes sir!" I said as I quickly fell to my knees and opened my mouth. He brought his already slightly engorged cock to my mouth and almost immediately started to piss. He must have really needed to go! I swallowed drop and when he finished he pulled me up and gave me another kiss. "On the bed, boy - on the double!" He ordered. I giggled and said "yes sir" before jumping to obey. He followed and laid next to me and we started making out. A few minutes of passionate kissing passed before I heard my phone buzz. "Let me check that, Dad, more cock could be calling." I looked at my phone and saw a text from Coach. "On my way, leave the door cracked I'll let myself in." I ran over to the door and cracked it slightly before returning to Dad in bed. We started kidding again. Dad laying on his back on the bed, me laying on top of him, our hard cocks rubbing. Occasionally I moved from his lips to his nipples or pits. I was in heaven. Suddenly I sensed that we weren't alone. I looked up to see Coach. Naked already. I smiled. "Hey there, rookie. This is quite a view," he said then reached forward and pulled us both to the edge of the bed so that Dad's head was now hanging slightly off the edge while I still was laying on top. "Tell your friend to open up, rookie, I'm in the mood to fuck some throat," Coach ordered. I didn't need to tell Dad, though, as he immediately opened up. I watched as Coach walked forward. I leaned my face down to watch as Coach placed his cock in Dad's open mouth. I bit playful on Dad's chin as the cock slid deeper into his gaping mouth. I knew from experience that Coach wasn't going to go easy on him. Almost immediately he was in a rhythm pumping in and out - pubes to the nose and it again. Dad was an excellent cocksucker but even he was struggling to keep up. The gagging was intermittent and I was leaking all over Dad's cock as I watched, occasionally shifting back to suck on his nipples or kiss his neck. After a while, Coach pulled out, grabbed my hair and pulled me into a better position. "Your turn, rookie," he said and buried himself into me as I laid on-top of Dad. I was caught slightly off guard and the piss that Dad had fed me was still in my belly. So it wasn't too shocking when I gagged and coughed up a stream of slimy piss all over Dad's face. "Fuck yea, son. That was hot as fuck. Take that cock deeper. Gag on it," dad said, soaking in my slimy piss bile. Coach continued to face fuck me as Dad looked on and offered encouragements. Suddenly, though, Coach pulled out and instead of entering my throat, he took Dad by surprise and went deep on his open mouth. I didn't have time to be shocked because immediately he pulled out and went back into my throat. He then started to fuck our faces in an alternating rhythm. I'd never been so hard, I thought my might blow a load right there all over Dad's cock and bush. Finally, Coach stopped and stepped back. We all took deep breathes and panted. It was a workout all around. When I'd caught my breath I realized we had company. Sport was sitting in the "cuck chair" - naked - stroking his hard cock. I smiled and said "hey Sport! Why don't you join in?" "I've been enjoying the view," he answered, "but I wouldn't mind a turn at this double throat action." With that he got up and strolled over. He slapped Coaches ass as he walked by, an act I knew he'd pay for later. "Careful, boy, I'll show you a real ass smacking," Coach playfully but sternly warned. I grinned as Sport stepped up and without fanfare began face fucking Dad. He looked born to face fuck. I looked up into his eyes and told him without saying anything that it was my turn. He understood and granted my desire, entering my throat with his cock still slimy from Dad's mouth. He got into a rhythm and I matched it. It was tricky laying on top of someone and maintaining my deep throat skills. But every thrust I met with earnest and greed. Suddenly I felt a tongue in my hole. Coach had moved behind us and had begun to eat my ass. With the stimulation on my cock from the natural frotting with Dad, my ass being eaten and my throat abused, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold my load. But I couldn't stop and before I knew it, I was shooting my cum all over Dad under me. Sport pulled his cock from my throat and said "damn rook, that moaning felt amazing on my dick. Did you just shoot a load?!" Between breaths I stammered, "yea. I did." I gently got up off of Dad, who was covered in cum and bile, a beautiful site, and walked to my phone. The messages from the ad were piling up. It was time to get some new meat to join us while I got ready for round two. Meanwhile, the other three sexy men in the room continued to play. *to be continued*
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-8
Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2023 20:42:36 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 8 Office Urinal Saga: Part 8 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ "Fuck, boy!" Dad exclaimed as he grabbed me and started playfully wrestling, "you got anywhere to be?" I grinned and wrestled back, "fuck no, Dad. I'm happy right here." Work could wait... ------ Dad pulled me close and brought his lips to mine. Our playtime sessions prior to today had always been in public, where inhibitions have to be kept in check and you have to be at least partially alert to the risks. Here it was just the two of us behind closed doors and we didn't intend to hold anything back, at least I didn't! Our lips and tongues battled for dominance. We forgot to breathe and gasped for air. Dad's hard cock pressed into mine as our hairy body's attempted to turn into one. He began licking and kissing everywhere. My neck. My armpits. My back. My toes. He left nothing untouched by his tongue as I moaned uncontrollably. Finally he looked up from my untrimmed balls and said, with a devilish grin: "You sure drank a lot of piss earlier, boy. You need to unload?" "You know what, now that you mention it a do need to go!" I replied. "To the shower, then!" Dad exclaimed. I followed his furry bubble butt as he hopped off the bed and led me to the bathroom. He opened the door to the sizable walk in shower with a built in tub feature (it was a pretty fancy hotel!) and gestured me in. I walked to one end and turned around to see Dad on his knees in the tub. "Gimme that piss, son" he demanded. Now, as a piss pig urinal faggot, I'm usually the one waiting for the piss. I'd never been the "pissor" - rather, always the "pissee." But I did need to go and I knew Dad was a pig like me so who was I to deny. I stepped forward and up onto the sides of the tub, so that he had to look up at me over him. I paused and concentrated. I needed to piss but my bladder sometimes was shy. Dad grinned at me and gestured with his hands to "give it to him." Finally, a trickle of piss escaped my cock and landed on his outstretched tongue. The trickle expanded until I was free flowing a stream right into his open mouth. He alternated between swallowing and letting it fall over his body, occasionally spitting it up at me. My stream slowed and I saw Dad collecting the last of my piss in his mouth. I jumped down and leaned into him for a giant piss soaked kiss. We each got to swallow a bit. As I looked into his piss covered face I asked, "You think you got any for me, Dad?" "Sure do, boy. Get down there," he answered triumphantly. I'd never gotten to drink from his tap. Only from previously filled bottles. I'd been waiting for this moment! I eagerly got in the tub as Dad took his turn on the rim standing over me. It didn't take him long to begin a strong stream of piss. I followed his suit and interchanged between gulping and spraying him with a fountain. "Turn around, show me that hairy hole" he ordered. I flipped around and put my ass in the air as his stream continued and got my hole and crack drenched with his piss. I watched as he hopped down, still pissing, and kneeled down before leaning his face into my presented ass. He ate my wet hairy hole like he'd been fasting all day. Master's cum was still inside me too, mixing with Dad's piss and saliva. It was ripe for the taking. "Fuck!! Dad, fuck me. Please!" I moaned at him. "If you insist" he snorted at me with a wink as he slapped my ass "get this butt back in the bed." I jumped up and, careful not to slip on the piss soaked floor, practically skipped back into the bedroom. I jumped onto the bed, soaked in piss and sweat, and turned to watch as Dad walked towards me, his hard cock leading the way. He stepped up onto the bed and walked to me where I laid on my back, grabbing my legs and holding them up for easy access to my hole. "Goddamn boy. You're such a sexy fucking pig" he said as he stuffed his cock into my wet hole. He leaned down and looked into my face as he thrusted in and out of my hole. I was now holding onto his neck, gazing into his beautiful eyes. "Fuck me, Dad" I moaned as I brought my face forward and began to kiss him as he continued to ravage my hole. My cock was hard between our body's. The friction along with Dad pumping into my prostate meant I wasn't going to last much longer. "Dad! I'm going to cum soon!" I shouted. "Me too, son! Shoot it boy!" He shouted in return before grunting and moaning. "Grrrrrughhhhhhh" he moaned into my face as I felt his load begin to release deep inside me. At the same moment my own cock pulsed and flooded a thick layer of cum between our hairy bellies and chests. It took him several minutes in that position to catch his breath. His cock slowly softening in my ass, surrounded by his and Master's cum. Finally he pulled out and without a word began to lick up my cum from my belly and feed it to me by spitting it into my welcoming mouth. When the cum was all either in my ass or belly he announced "well, I guess we should clean up?" "Haha I guess so, Dad" I laughed in response, "although I wish we could stay here all day basking in our piss, sweat and cum." "I bet you do, boy" he replied as he slid off the side, "get your ass in the shower." I jumped at the order and obeyed. Dad followed and we washed each other up good (with much focus on both our used holes). "I really hope we can do this again soon, Dad" I said as I leaned in for one more deep kiss. "Me too, son. Me too." He replied after the kiss. We finally turned off the water and began drying off silently. I'd been lost is pig heaven and wasn't ready to get back to reality. I reached for my jock, which happened to be the one Dad gifted me a few weeks ago. I sniffed it first as always before lifting up a leg to start dressing. "What do you think you're doing, boy?" Dad sad. "Your Master said faggots aren't allowed clothes in here. We'll dress in the hallway. Grab your stuff." I'd forgotten all about that. But Dad knew how to keep me in line. I wasn't sure why he was including himself in the order, though, and said as much. "Son, I just had no less than ten anonymous loads inside my ass and then drank your piss. Your Dad's a born faggot too. We're a fagdad and fagson." He answered as he opened the door, looked up and down the hall and then stepped out in all his naked glory. I followed with an all new raging hard-on after hearing Dad call himself a faggot. We quickly dressed and then started walking towards the elevator. As we rode it down I turned and said "I had fun today, fagdad," giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He responded by grabbing my bulge and squeezing before the door opened and he sauntered out and walked away. I walked in the opposite direction and smiled as I headed back to my office. Life was good.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-9
Date: Mon, 11 Sep 2023 20:49:40 +0000 From: Urinal Fag <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 9 Office Urinal Saga: Part 9 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ I sat at my desk deeply engaged in my work. Sometimes I did, in fact, work. I'd closed the door to my office for a call and hadn't yet reopened as I was in the zone. That's when a knock came that brought me out of my focus. "Come in!" I half shouted to the inquisitor. The door to my office opened and, as I finished typing up an email I heard someone come in and then the door closed again. That was odd. I looked over expecting to see a manager or similar and was completely shocked to see Sir standing there with a smile. "Hello boy" he said as I gawked at him. "Sir! How...what...why?" I stammered in response. No one was supposed to have access to our office except company employees or contractors. How was he here and how did he know where I would be? "Your confusion is fair. To answer your unasked questions: I recently took on a new role at this company. I knew you worked here, it wasn't really that secret. Last time I used you I noticed the name on your access badge and looked you up in the directory. Pretty simple." Sir explained matter of factly. "Oh. Got it Sir" I replied. The explanation was simple but I was still shocked. My eyes darted to the book on my shelf that had an envelope I kept all the cash Sir had left me since he started whoring me out. It was quite a chunk of change at this point. "I'll cut to the chase. You in your office will be my restroom from now on. You'll be drinking my piss everyday, multiple times. Understood?" "Yes Sir, of course Sir." I instinctively responded. "Good boy. Starting immediately. Get over here." Sir indicated the floor at his feet. I obeyed and reflexively started taking his cock out. Once I had his cock out and in my mouth I looked up into his eyes and waited. It was only a few seconds before I tasted his piss on my tongue. I swallowed eagerly, the service finally putting me at ease. This was what I was meant for. Being a human urinal for this man and countless other men soothed and calmed me. When he was finished he reached down with his signature move, gripping my face by the chin and guiding me up to my feet before planting a gentle kiss on my lips followed by "good boy" to which I replied "thank you Sir." As I went to go back to my chair I decided to ask about the men who paid him to use me. "What about your clients Sir, will I still be your whore?" "They were never my real clients and I never took a cut. I had an ad for a human urinal available for hire. They paid me I passed the buck to you. I have no interest in the money, it was the power of owning you that turned me on. They had to come through me. The ad is still up so you'll continue on in the same manner." He answered. "But Sir, I have no interest in the money either. I'm a urinal, there should be no charge to use the facilities, should there?" I replied. I'd thought about it and really felt weird about the money. "That's technically true, boy, but I enjoy the game. I'm sure you can find some way to use the money to further your dirty conquests. I'm not stupid, I know I'm not the only one who uses you." I hadn't considered that - I didn't have to use the money for anything real. It could go towards making it easier to service men. The possibilities were endless. "I see I've given you something to think on, boy," Sir brought me back to reality, "I'll send you a message on Teams. In the future I'll let you know on there when I need to use the urinal." "Yes Sir, sounds good Sir!" I replied as he walked to the door, opened it and left. Life was about to get real interesting: full on urinal, multiple times a day. And I was already imagining a hotel room rental with my whore funds. I couldn't resist a grin as I sat down, adjusted my hard cock, and buried myself back into work.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-5
Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2023 19:56:14 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 5 Office Urinal Saga: Part 5 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, these events from here on are purely fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ Sitting at my desk later the same day that Coach and I met Sport, I was feeling even hornier than usual. Coach said he'd text with Sport on a group message and I couldn't hardly wait. The prospect of sexting and dirty chat, not to mention in person servicing, with our new Teammate had me completely distracted. I was gonna need to shoot a load soon if I was going to get any work done, although it seemed like Coach had said no cum for us today. Finally, just after I was wrapping up lunch, I get the anticipated message as a group chat with an unrecognized number. Coach (C): hey there boys. Save each others numbers. Rookie, remember that Sport is your superior, anything he says you're to obey. Sport, remember my instructions. Rookie (R): yes Coach, understood Sir! Sport (S): got it, Coach! C: good boys. Now, go chat amongst yourselves and get to know one another ;-) C: oh and be on the lookout for the next team workout! With that, I added a new contact (Sport) and started a new chat. R: hey there, Sport! Had fun this morning ;-) S: hey faggot rook. It was definitely fun. S: when it's just the two of us, you'll refer to me as sir R: of course sir, sorry S: good rookie. Now go to the restroom, strip, and send me a pic for your contact info. R: yes sir! Damn, he was a natural. I wonder if Coach had given him tips along with the mysterious "instructions?" Regardless, I jumped to obey and headed to the restroom. Choosing the handicap stall, I undressed and once nude I held up my phone and snapped a selfie with my entire body head to toe was visible. While still standing there naked, I sent the pic. S: nice. Ur a sexy faggot. R: thank you sir S: now get on your knees and take another in that position, that makes more sense for your contact info R: good idea sir, one sec R: *photo* S: much better, good boy R: thank you sir! S: you can dress now and get back to your desk. S: are you able to meet this afternoon at all? R: I can make time to meet, yes sir S: great. I work in the vicinity. Coach told me you work near the gym. Meet me in the lobby of the hotel in 1 hour R: got it, sir, I'll be there S: good boy. See you soon I put my phone down, got dressed and headed to my office, my mind racing with the possibilities. What did Sport, or sir (as opposed to Sir. Faggot problems, ha!), have in store for me? And what were Coaches instructions? Would I find out? Did they have anything to do with me? I needed to know! The next hour crawled by but when the hour finally arrived, I got up and began walking towards the meeting spot. The hotel was right next door, between the gym and my office complex. I used the restroom in the basement when Sir needed a urinal and for other encounters. I suspected sir/Sport knew about it as well. Waiting by the hotel escalators I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw sir standing there. "Hey sir!" I said, reaching out my hand to shake. "Hey rookie. Follow me" he said as he shook my hand. He walked to the escalator that went down and stepped on, with me on his tail. He was dressed in a nice polo shirt that was drenched in sweat on the back. I could also see some sweat marks on the seat of his pants, which were hugging his bubble butt tightly. He must have had to walk outside in the highly humid and hot summer temps. I couldn't help but imagine what he smelled and tasted like. Luckily, I suspected I was about to find out. He finally approached the restroom that I had anticipated and walked in with me right behind. He walked to the big stall at the end, opened it and turned towards me. "After you, rookie" he said and slapped my ass as I entered. He followed and shut and locked the door before turning to me, reached out and grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me into him. "I've been thinking about our kiss all day. I need more," he declared before grabbing the back of my head and pulling me into his face. We were immediately transported back to the gym shower floor. Sucking tongue, biting lips, making out like we were in heat. Well, I certainly was in heat. I was so horny I could hardly stand it. My hands were exploring up and down his drenched back and butt. The only thing missing was Coach's piss cascading down our faces. After a few minutes, sir pulls my head back and stares into my eyes with a killer smile. He then hocks and spits right into my face. "Get your clothes off now, rookie, then onto your knees" he said as I wiped my face bringing the saliva I collected to my mouth to lick off. I obeyed in record timing and for the third time that day I was on my knees completely naked in a public restroom. I loved it. "I had to walk over here and I'm extra sweaty. Start with my feet, get my shoes off and sniff inside them and on my feet" he confirmed my suspicions and gave new orders. His shoes slipped off and I inhaled deep once I got them to my face. Ripe and a bit rank, the smell was intoxicating. I then moved down to his feet (he wasn't wearing socks, oddly). I kissed the tops before sniffing in between the toes. I treated both feet to a bath from my tongue between lots of deep sniffs. I could have gone on forever. But he snapped me back to reality. "Damn, rookie, you really are a dirty little faggot, huh?" "Yes sir!" I replied as I stared up from his feet. "Get up here and put your face in my pit, then" he ordered. I jumped up and immediately shoved my face into his wet sweaty armpit. He was still wearing his polo but his musk put me in overdrive. I was inhaling as deep as I could. I absentmindedly reached for bottom of his shirt and began to lift so I could take it off and suck on his pit hair before he smacked my hand away. "I don't think so rookie. I need to bust a nut and we don't have the time for you to rut in my pits" he said as I listened disappointed. "But I thought Coach said we couldn't cum until the next team workout, sir," I said, not wanting to disobey either one of them. "Technically not what he said, but as a good sub I can see how you got there. But to put you at ease, Coach told me we could both cum today with a stipulation" sir informed me. That must be the instructions! I eagerly listened on. "Both our loads have to end up on your face, with a photo sent to the team chat. So you'll suck me until I'm close, then I'll jerk off to finish and shoot it on your face. Then you'll jerk off and cum into your cupped hand. You'll add the cum to mine on your face then I'll snap a pic. Now get to work." My already hard cock jumped as he finished the instructions. I knelt down again immediately and undid his pants before pulling out his uncut cock. It was beautiful. I got to work sucking it. If he was in any state like me it wouldn't take him long. I worked strategically, taking the entire length into my mouth and letting my tongue lick at his balls before pulling out again. He became verbal then, calling me faggot and cocksucker, telling me what a slut I was. "Fuck, I'm about to cum, get off rookie it has to be on your face" he nearly shouts as I stop sucking and he takes over with his hand. It took one full stroked before he erupted from my chin, sending ropes across my mouth, nose and forehead. It had to have been 5 or 6 strong streams and I could feel the puddles on my face. I'd already begun stroking and just as his cock finished unloading on my face my own cock began flooding my cupped hand. It felt like the biggest load I'd ever shot. My hand was full to the brim with cum. I immediately brought it up to my face and began smearing it and mixing it with sir's. He was looking down at me and grinned. "Now that is one cum covered faggot. Smile!" He then took a few pics and immediately sent them, I felt my phone buzz with the message. He then squat down before me and began working the semen on my face into my mouth. At first it was huge gobs that I immediately swallowed, followed by smaller more liquified cum that he had me suck off his finger. Finally, it was all in my belly. I could imagine what my face looked like, I'd definitely need to clean it before going back to work! "I gotta go. Clean yourself up, rookie" he said as he stood up and stepped over me. "We'll chat more later." With that, he left and I waited until I heard the door open and close again before I stood up and began to dress. I was a mess so it took some time to get back presentable but when I was, I walked back to my office before looking at my messages. S: *naked photo of me featuring my cum covered face* C: Damn, boys, that's just the two of you's cum?? Surely that's 4 or 5 loads! S: no Coach, just ours! The rookie had so much cum, never seen so much in one load! C: wow! It looks natural on him lol look at that smile S: haha it does. I fed it all to him after the pic too. C: attaboy. You're a natural R: :-) thanks for letting us cum, Coach! Needed that C: you're welcome boy. S: I love how slutty you are, rookie. Going to be seeing a lot more of each other R: sounds great to be C: lol my horny boys. Keep y'all's dirty chat between the two of you, I got to get back to work. I'll be in touch soon. S: later, Coach! R: bye, Coach! Finally satisfied, I set my phone down and got back to work. A few minutes went by before the phone buzzed again. I assumed it was sir. I looked down and was surprised to see it wasn't - it was Sir. I opened the text: "Urinal Available?" It read. I grinned, the duties of an office pig never end. "Sure is, Sir" I replied and awaited instructions...
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-7
Date: Sat, 19 Aug 2023 21:00:34 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 7 Office Urinal Saga: Part 7 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ Wednesday. Honestly a breath of fresh air, at least a little bit of routine! Since Sir had begun whoring me out I'd drank more piss from more cocks than I'd had combined in the previous year. Not to mention I was basically on call with Sport ever since Coach brought us together. Not that I would complain about all that. I loved it. But it was all completely impromptu. And that was starting to take a toll on me. But Wednesday: I could count on at least seeing if Master needed my services. Probably about 60% of the time he'd use me. The rest of the time he no showed to our planning spot. But at least I knew where to be when to find out my instructions! So there I was, Wednesday 11 am in line for coffee, the usual. Suddenly I hear whispered softly so only I could hear it: "Faggot. Got plans for you today. Over lunch. At noon be in the lobby of my building. Don't disappoint me." I stood there for another 20 seconds before pretending I got a call and leaving the line. I looked at my calendar and, luckily, saw I was free at lunch and early afternoon. I couldn't disappoint Master. I went ahead and blocked off the entire afternoon just to be safe and headed back to my office. Master hadn't used me outside of the restrooms before so this was an interesting turn of events. I was intrigued and excited. I decided to really lean into work the hour I had to kill and try to get as much done as possible. Needed to do better about not letting my pig life interfere with work life. I set an alarm for 10 til noon and got to work. *bzzzzzz* the alarm goes off. "Oh shit. That was fast!" I think to myself before grabbing my phone and begin walking to the appointed meeting place. The lobby of Master's building is never terribly busy. So when I arrived I just sort of hovered near the elevator bank, unsure what else to do. Directly at noon Master walked off an elevator. He was alone and the lobby was empty but for me, so he came right up to me and said, "Follow me, at a slight distance. Don't make it obvious." With that he took off walking. I casually waited a few seconds before taking off in the same direction. He headed back towards my office building, then kept going towards the neighboring hotel. "Probably headed towards the basement restroom," I thought. I'd been there once already today as a urinal for one of Sir's clients. I was there more and more frequently these days. As we walked I took the opportunity to really take Master in. Deep olive brown skin with short cropped dark black hair, including fur on his arms and legs. Although he was facing away at the moment I knew he had beautiful hazel eyes and a smooth clean cut face. He wore scrubs, in line with his profession, but they molded perfectly skin tight to his body, including his bubble butt which I'd never had the opportunity to appreciate before - I was usually focused on his delicious uncut cock. I was pulled out of my trance (with a fresh semi in my pants) when, instead of going down the escalators towards the basement once at the hotel, Master passed by and walked towards the elevator bank. I'd been in the hotel rooms there before, the one-off business traveler looking for a quick blow job. I'd always been happy to oblige. But I hadn't even remotely expected this. Did Master have a room? He'd already pressed the Up button as I walked up to stand beside him. We waited in silence until the elevator arrived and we walked on. Master pressed the button for the 23rd floor and, after the door closed, started to talk. "I've got a room. Faggots aren't allowed clothes in there. So I suggest once we reach the floor you start working to get those off before we get there." "Yes, Master," was all I could reflexively say. Hopefully there wasn't anyone in the halls. The elevator beeped and the door opened on floor 23. Master stepped off the elevator with me on his tail. My hands were already undoing the buttons on my shirt and soon I was pulling it off. Holding it over my elbow I paused to take my shoes and socks off, picking them up in my left hand and began walking again while unbuttoning my jeans. I saw ahead of me about 15 feet that Master has stopped in front of a door and turned to face me. "Hop to it, faggot" he stated calmly. With that I stopped, threw down my jeans and jock I was wearing, grabbed everything and walked naked the rest of the way. "Sorry Master" I huffed out as I arrived at the door. He hadn't opened it yet. "On your knees and ask for permission to enter" he replied. I dropped to my knees and started to beg. "Please, Master, may I enter your room." "Haha. Love watching a faggot squirm and beg. Alright. Come on." He laughed and opened the door so I could scramble in. I began folding my clothes and piling them by the door before starting to kneel onto my knees to await instructions. That's when I noticed we weren't alone. "Dad?!" I exclaimed when I recognized him. He was naked. Tanned skin covered in dark black fur with streaks of grey, he was simply gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, manicured beard and untrimmed bush of pubes. Every time I saw him I was briefly stunned into silence by his beauty. He, like Master, was uncut. His cock was slightly longer than Masters 6 and a half inches, whereas Masters was thicker. "Hey boy! When Doc here said he knew a faggot who we could have some fun with I should've known it would be you," Dad said through a laugh as he strode forward to wrap me in a bear hug. We stood there embracing each other nude as Master, still fully clothed, walked up to us. "This cocksucker never misses an appointment" Master said, referring to Dad. "Loves getting an extra prostrate check, which of course is my speciality," he added with a slap on Dad's backside. "Fuck yea, Doc!" Dad responded. I was still in a state of shock. Never expected to meet two of my regulars at the same time like this. In a hotel room too, we could be completely uninhibited. "What your Dad here doesn't know is that the two of you are going to be servicing more than just me today. I've got an ad up already - no loads refused dad and son pair," Master informed us. This was wild. I couldn't wait. "Here's what you're going to do. Faggot, after I blindfold you, you're going to lay down on the bed with your head over the edge," Master started giving directions and orders like a pro. "Then Dad here will get on top, in the doggy style, and begin fucking your face. But that's only until the loads start arriving. Dad's ass will be presented over the faggots face. The visitors can chose throat or ass. Or alternate. Faggot is going to swallow all the cum. If they decide to cum in Dad, faggot will suck it out and then swallow. And if they need to piss they've been informed about the urinal." "Damn, Doc! You're full of surprises today. Sounds great to me." Dad responded eagerly. My cock reacted to this by stiffening and began oozing precum. I waited as Master walked over with a blindfold and then they guided me into position. I was about to be throat fucked by an unknown number of anonymous men, swallowing all their cum and piss. Some of which will pass through Dad's hairy ass first. I was in pig heaven. I felt Dad step onto the bed and climb over me. His hefty cock hard and now laying on my face. I opened my mouth and started licking at it, trying to convince it into my mouth and down my throat. Dad took control and guided it for me until I could feel his balls resting against my nose, the head of his cock at the back of my throat. He started pumping it in and out in a steady rhythm, his balls smooshing into my face each time he hit the back. I was focused on the job at hand so I never heard anyone else arrive. But they must have because suddenly there was another cock in my face. Dad removed his so I could begin sucking the new one. I felt Dad's wet cock now resting on my chin as I explored the newcomers penis. It wasn't as long as Dad's so it didn't go all the way back, but the owner of it still got to work fucking my face. Plenty of drool and saliva worked up and coated it. I suspected I was the lube dispenser getting the cock lubed up for Dad's hole. Before long my suspicions were confirmed as the cock left my mouth and I heard Dad moan as it must have entered his ass above me. I could feel the thrusts on top of me. Dad was in heaven, moaning loudly and being verbal as always. "Fuck yea. Harder! Fuck me, please! Give it to me" was the constant stream from Dad's mouth. I kept my mouth open, ready for anything. Between the thrusting, Dad's cock was thrashing around hitting my face. I tried to get it into my mouth but failed. Was like a faggot game. I guess I needed more practice. But eventually the dude stopped fucking Dad and went back into my mouth. I could taste Dad's hole on his cock. It was delicious. I sucked deep and hard. Dad's essence had put me into overdrive. Suddenly, my mouth flooded and I heard deep moans above. The man was cumming. I swallowed like a good pig and kept sucking until he pulled out and walked away. Dad inserted his cock back into my mouth but just held it there as we prepared for the next one. I heard Master address the man whose load I'd just swallowed say "you sure you don't need to piss? Alright then. Who's next? Form a line!" A line!? How many were there? My mind didn't have long to ponder our audience before a new cock hit my mouth and Dad's dick. He pulled it out and the new one took its place. He didn't start fucking though. Instead he kept still with just the tip past my lips. I knew the signs and prepared myself. Seconds later the flow began and I gulped steadily as his piss filled my urinal mouth, joining the load of cum in my belly. How much more cum and piss would I have in there by the end of lunch? When he finished pissing he moved in and I got to feel how big he was. Turns out, really big. Bigger than Dad at least. I started to gag. If he was going to fuck my throat long his piss might end up back out of my belly. He was methodical with his cock, building up the throat lube without forcing up the contents of my belly. I was impressed. Finally, he moved onto Dad, who had been sucking on my cock while he was waiting for some action. The anonymous man must have been close because he didn't have much time to get into a rhythm fucking before shouting out and busting his nut into Dad. "Next! Faggot, you can swallow all the loads from his ass later. Dad, hold his legs up. I'm going to fuck him while you two are busy," Master as usual was in complete control. The next hour was a glorious steady stream of cock, cum and piss. I didn't attempt to count the cocks or loads. Master fucked me deep and hard the whole time, edging himself while giving directions and managing the line. He did finally erupt and plant his seed deep inside of me before announcing: "Alright faggot, that's the end of `em, it's time to swallow the rest of that cum that your Dad here is storing for you." My blindfold was removed. I readjusted to the lighting and saw the room was empty save for the three of us. I scootched up the bed some so Dad could have a better angle over me. "You ready for this, boy?" Dad asked. "I stopped counting at 10 loads." "Yessir, let me have it, Dad!" I answered. With that, Dad settled his well used asshole above my mouth and began to push. I watched as his hairy puffy hole started to ooze and then open up and drop steady gobs of cum. It just kept coming, like a waterfall into my piggy mouth. I occasionally reached up with my face to suck on his ass and coax more out. Eventually, though, the well ran dry and Dad collapsed beside me. "You two are dirty fucking sluts," Master informed us, "faggot, I got to piss, get over here." I obeyed and put my mouth on Masters cock and drank every drop as he released. It was my 7th piss load of the day, counting the one from the morning. As he wrapped up he started to get dressed. "I have to get back to work. Feel free to use the room and the bathroom to clean yourselves up and whatever else you fags want to do with it, it's paid for the night so no rush. Dad, make sure your son remembers no clothes in the room. He dresses in the hallway." Master had it all planned out as usual. "No problem, Doc, I'll be sure to keep him in line. And thanks got the room and the loads!" Dad answered for us both. "We'll do it again sometime for sure. Ok. I'm headed out. Faggot, open up." Master ordered. I obeyed and he spit in before leaving the room. "Fuck, boy!" Dad exclaimed as he grabbed me and started playfully wrestling, "you got anywhere to be?" I grinned and wrestled back, "fuck no, Dad. I'm happy right here." Work could wait...
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-6
Date: Wed, 16 Aug 2023 11:10:55 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 6 Office Urinal Saga: Part 6 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ Finally satisfied, I set my phone down and got back to work. A few minutes went by before the phone buzzed again. I assumed it was sir, I looked down and was surprised to see it wasn't sir - it was Sir. I opened the text: "Urinal Available?" It read. I grinned, the duties of an office pig never end. "Sure is, Sir" I replied and awaited instructions... ---- "I'll be at the spot in half an hour. I've got a client with me. You'll service him as well." The text came and threw me through a loop. Sir had never done anything even remotely like this. I was very turned on by the turn of events but I was petrified too. I do a lot of risky and piggy things for horniness' sake. But I'm also discreet. I probably do more than I should if I'm honest. But I can't help myself. My cock speaks much louder than my brain usually. So this curveball presented a dilemma. My cock said obey no questions asked. My brain presented all the various things that could go wrong. Cock won, naturally. "Understood Sir, I'll be ready'" was my response. I had 30 minutes to sweat, worry and imagine the possibilities. Who was this client? Surely it couldn't be anyone I know. Sir is discreet himself so he must trust him. The only thing keeping me sane was the prospect of swallowing two loads of piss. I decided to leave early, before I talked myself out of it, and began walking to the same spot I'd played with Sport/sir less than an hour previously. I secured the usual stall, stripped my clothes off and stood there absentmindedly stroking my cock, listening for signs of Sir. He likes to keep it quiet, so I have to assume he's filled the client in on the protocol or at least told him how he plans to use me. I hear the restroom door open. I get on my knees and wait, listening with anticipation. And I wait. And wait. Nothing. It had to have been 30 seconds, although time moves slower when you're buck naked on a public restroom floor. My phone buzzes. I look down. It's from Sir. "Leave the stall and kneel next to the last urinal" it said. This was new. And something I'd never done before. It's one thing to be naked in the stall of a public restroom, another thing altogether to be out in the open. But here I was. It wasn't in my nature to say no, so I went with it and opened the door, walked out and went to the urinal and kneeled. Once I was on my knees I looked around. I saw one man by the sinks. It wasn't Sir. I panicked. "What do I do?" I thought to myself. I felt like a deer in headlights. Paralyzed, I watched the man start to walk my way. He finally got to me and looked down as I stared up. "Sir says you're to keep your mouth open and swallow anything that goes in" the stranger spoke with quiet authority. I let go of an inner sigh of relief hearing this as I opened my mouth wide and waited. The man was older, silver hair with a smooth face and wire glasses. He was good looking and wore a well fitting suit. He stepped up to the urinal (me) and unzipped his pants, pulling out a modestly sized cock. I switched my gaze to his eyes and awaited his stream. It only took a few seconds before his pissstream began and landed in my open mouth. I was a little nervous having to swallow open mouthed but practice makes perfect so I focused and swallowed in intervals as my mouth filled up. The flavor was basically like a savory unsweetened tea. It was delicious. As his stream started to weaken he subtlety changed his aim and began to piss on my bush. If I know Sir, this was definitely his doing. The last of the piss in my mouth had been swallowed but I kept it open like I'd been ordered just in case. The man finally finished pissing and stepped forward. He wiped the last drops off his cock onto my tongue and shook a few times before putting it away. "Sir said when I was done you were to go back into the stall" he informed me. "Thank you, Sir" I told the man, both for the piss and for relaying the orders. Without acknowledging me again he walked away to the sinks and started washing his hands. I re-entered the stall. My pubes glistening with piss and my belly full. I wondered what was next. Was Sir going to use me too? *tap tap* I jumped and turned around and slowly opened the door again. Sir was standing there and pushed the door the rest of the way open and entered. I got to my knees and resumed protocol. Sir immediately squatted down and tussled my wet bush before bringing his hand up to my mouth and guiding his fingers in. I instinctively began sucking on them. I could taste the strangers piss. "You're a good boy, I'm proud of you" Sir quietly whispered into my ear as I sucked his fingers and moaned in pleasure back. Finally Sir stood back up and began pulling out his cock. Once it was out he stepped forward and set it on my outstretched tongue, my lips closing around it. He immediately began to feed me his tasty piss. I gulped and gulped blissfully. Without stopping his stream he stepped back and his cock popped out of my mouth, spraying my chest and then my pubes to mix with the strangers. He must not have had much left because he didn't return to my mouth, instead shaking the drops onto my face before dipping back up. Guess that meant no cum today. I looked up and, as expected, Sir gently grabbed my chin and guided me onto my feet. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and then whispered, "I'll leave your cut of the clients fee on the last urinal. You'll be doing this more often so be prepared. That's a good boy." "Thank you Sir" I reflexively responded, still working to comprehend what he had said. Sir left the stall, I heard some shuffling and the sink running before the restroom door opened and shut again. I rushed out, naked, to the urinal. There on the top of the porcelain was a crisp fifty dollar bill. Sir had literally whored me out. I grabbed the money and walked back into the stall. If this was my "cut," how much was Sir charging for my services? I did this by nature. I didn't know what to think about accepting payment for it. I was extremely turned on by the fact that Sir was whoring me out to clients. What I wasn't sure about was being paid out of the funds. This was all on my mind as I dressed, washed up, and walked back to the office. I'd gotten very little actual work done this day. I'd have to stay late. If I could bring myself to focus.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-2
Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2023 21:18:16 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga Part 2 Office Urinal Saga: Part 2 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). I loved the feedback from Part 1, hope you enjoy Part 2 as well. This one is also in part based on true events, although as the series goes on more and more will be fantasy over true story. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] It'd been a while since I last heard from Sir. Or any of my other regulars for that matter. You see, being an office urinal, I serve all who need it and over time I have built a clientele, so to speak. Most of whom know how to contact me but one in particular is not as easy to track down. Master, as he prefers me to address him, doesn't allow me to have his contact info. He seeks me out when he needs me. I know he is a doctor, and he works in the office building next door to mine. There is a mutual common space between the two buildings that I see him occasionally and will go grab a coffee or something when I am craving Him. I know when he takes his lunch so I head down to that area at that time to loiter, hoping he is around and will want to use me. I go to my favorite coffee shop and stand in line. I don't really look around because I know better. If he wants to be found, he will make himself known. I just go about my business and hope, when suddenly I hear: "Hey Faggot. Don't turn around, just listen. Floor 6, 2:30. If you're not there I leave immediately." Master whispers just so I can hear it, the crowd is loud so it would not be easy to be overheard and he must have been standing immediately behind me. I pulled out my phone to look at my calendar; luckily, my afternoon is open. I mark off 2:15 for half an hour as "busy" just in case. I needed this. I know Master means the 6th floor restroom in his building. We've used various floors, always in that building. He keeps me on my toes, I guess he doesn't want me loitering in any of them waiting for him, which is fair. A fag gets thirsty! In any event, I know the time and place and now the difficult part: waiting. Finally, the clock reads 2:15 and I start heading that way. It'll take me a few minutes to walk over and then to find the restroom and I want to make sure to get the stall if it is available. As I walk, I think about the last time Master used me. He's not as gentle as Sir, nor is he as predictable. Last time, he had me lay down on the floor while he kneeled over my face, mouth open to accept his piss. It was a real test since I am used to wrapping my lips over the cockhead to drink. Swallowing mouth open takes practice and shamefully I have not perfected it. I had left my clothes on, which was a mistake because of his requirement. I wasn't perfect but I managed to swallow most without making too much of a mess. The few wet spots on my dress shirt I wrote off as sweat. I get pulled back to reality as the elevator opens to the 6th floor. I exit and quickly find the restroom (each floor is similarly laid out, so this wasn't difficult). Entering the restroom, I see it is empty (one stall, one urinal). I enter the stall and look at my watch: 2:23. Perfect. I decide to take my clothes off to avoid any splash zone issues like last time. I've never gotten naked for Master before so I am unsure how he will react. With about 5 minutes to wait and my cock fully erect, I get on my knees and slowly play with myself. This is as good a time as any to describe myself: average body type, white, hairy all over, reasonably good looking. 6-inch cock. Never trimmed bush. As I mentioned previously, Sir calls me his Otter Fag, although I think I'm a bit "chubbier" than a traditional otter. Anyway, there I was, a hairy horny urinal fag on my knees in a restroom waiting when finally, the door opened. I checked my watch: right at 2:30. As usual I waited for the sign: Tap Tap. He was here. I jumped forward and unlocked the door so Master could open and join. He does so and I watch his face for any reaction to me nudity. "Ha. Typical faggot. Can't keep its clothes on." Master said in a slight whisper, being a small restroom, we didn't have to be totally silent, just have to listen for the door to open. "Yes Master, hope you don't mind" I reply. "Easier access, I like it. You'll do this from now on anytime we meet" Master replies. "Yes Master" I reply through a grin. "Good faggot, now wipe that smile off your face and crawl over here, I've been holding it all afternoon." I eagerly obey and crawl over as I watch Master untie his scrubs and pull out his cock. Master is a very sexy fit Hispanic man with an average uncut cock. He lifts up his shirt to keep it out of the way, revealing his fur covered abs. He is absolutely stunning, and my mouth is watering so much I am surprised drool hasn't dripped out the edges. "Alright faggot, open up," Master instructs. I do so just in time for him to spit directly onto my tongue before pointing his cock at me. "Here it comes, if you spill any you'll be licking it up" He informs me and before I have a chance to react his piss stream lands in my mouth. I was desperate to not disappoint Master, so I concentrated on my measured swallows. His piss stream was strong, and the flavor was slightly bitter from sitting in His bladder for too long. I was doing well with no spillage when I suddenly burped and lost a splash over my lips onto my body and the floor below. "Tsk tsk, faggot" Master says as he continues to piss. I keep my concentration though and manage to not spill again as his stream finally weakens and ends. "Not too bad, faggot. Better than last time for sure. But you heard me -- get down there and clean my piss off the floor." I quickly flatten my chest to the floor and begin lapping up the spilled piss. I know this is disgusting and wrong, but I cannot help but be utterly turned on. I urgently lick the floor clean until I hear Master step forward: "Woah there, faggot, enjoying that a little too much I think" he lightly chuckles as I lift my head back up. I see that his cock is still out, and it is hard. He was clearly enjoying watching his faggot be depraved. "I told the office I had a quick errand to run so I have some time to kill, faggot." This caught me off guard. Besides being Master's urinal I'd only ever given him a very quick blowjob. What did he have planned? "Get your head over that toilet bowl and start licking the seat" Master instructed me. I was in total pig mode so I could only obey. I crawl over and begin licking the bowl. I tasted the dried salty piss. It is not terrible, I thought to myself. Then, I felt something on my hairy hole -- it was Master's tongue. It felt amazing and I went into second gear and began making out with the toilet. I lost track of time as my ass got soaked from Master's spit. All too soon his tongue is gone, and I whimper. "Shut up, faggot, too loud. No noises" and with that I feel his cock enter my wet hole. I stifle a moan against the porcelain as Master slowly pushes all the way inside me. This was completely unexpected, but I was past the point of no return. I hadn't been fucked in months, so I was very tight. I'm usually only serving orally. But at this moment I needed nothing less than Master's cock and load deep inside me. Master begins an escalating tempo, slowly at first: all the way in, all the way out, building up his speed. I feel him reach forward and pull my body up. As he fucks my hole one hand covers my mouth as the other finds my nipple and squeezes. "Remember, no noises faggot" Master whispers in my ear as I stifle a scream. My cock has been hard this entire time and bounces in rhythm to Master's thrusts. I have never cum hands free before, but I can feel my balls stirring and lifting. This is completely uncharted territory, but I know I won't be able to hold back if He keeps hitting my prostate like this. "I'm about to breed you, faggot, here it comes" and that was all I needed to trigger a shower of cum from my cock all over the toilet in front of me just as Master groaned into my ear and I felt his cock pulse deep in my ass. He pushes me forward with him still on top of me. "Damn you're a tight faggot, I'll be doing that again" Master said after he caught his breath and pulled out. "And get to work cleaning up your faggot cum off that toilet, don't leave a mess for the cleaning staff." I'd come down off my piss fueled cloud at this point so the prospect of licking the now cum covered toilet was not exactly exciting. But I knew better than to argue so I got to work as Master cleaned himself off and rearranged his scrubs. When he was ready, he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "You'll keep my load in you the rest of the day, faggot, and you'll start waiting in the spot I found you today every Wednesday at 11 am for 5 minutes. I may not always come, but you'll be available in case. Got it?" "Yes Master" I replied as my head rested on the toilet. "Good faggot" he said and then he spat once more in my face before leaving the stall. I jump up to close and lock the stall and stand there, naked and sweaty with drying cum and piss in and on me. Master had effectively turned me from urinal to hole. At first, I panic: a random man just fucked me while I slobbered over a public toilet. Was I ready to accept this faggot upgrade? Or was it a downgrade? And then I felt my slightly sore hole squeeze and my rehardening cock grow and I smiled to myself: Obviously come next Wednesday I'd be waiting and hoping for Master's whisper in my ear.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-4
Date: Mon, 07 Aug 2023 20:42:50 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 4 Office Urinal Saga: Part 4 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). Part 4 introduces the last of 4 regulars. I'll revisit all 4 in future parts. All 4 are based on true events and real men, but the embellishments will continue to grow until eventually the story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] ------------ I like to get to the office early on Mondays, maybe that's weird but I like a jump start to the week. Plus it opens up pre-work opportunities to be a pig whore. As luck would have it, the scheme worked this week as I was walking into the building I see another of my regulars walking my direction towards the parking lot. He was clearly headed to the gym, a really nice fancy one that is across the way from the building. He was wearing gym sports and a tank top, with his gym bag over his shoulder. I smiled and glanced around to make sure no one else was around before greeting him, "Good morning, Coach! Nice weekend?" "Morning, rookie. It was great but didn't get any workout time in so feeling a bit stiff." A shorter man, about 5' 8", in his upper 40s with a baseball players body (he is a real baseball coach, this is how me calling him Coach had been born), Coach is what you'd call an American hunk. He's mostly smooth but has a big bush that always escapes whatever briefs or jock he is wearing. His cock doesn't match his stature either, it's an incredible 8.5". Anyway, I hoped he was hinting that he wanted to play so I jumped at the cue. "Can I help you warm up, Coach?" I offered knowingly. "I think you can. How `bout you follow me" he suggested and I eagerly obeyed thankful that I'd come in early. Coach led me to his gym. I'd been there with him once before, he is able to bring guests for free a few times a year so I'm grateful he was deeming me worthy of one. He checked us in and then led me to the locker room. It was still pretty early so there weren't a ton of guys around. However, it was riskier than normal. But that's Coaches big turn on besides the coach/player role play: risk. The bigger the risk the harder his cock. Which was all I needed to know. "Take your clothes off. You can put them and your bag in my locker" Coach instructed as we entered the locker room. "Yes, Coach" I didn't delay and was soon completely nude. Coach, however, had left his gym clothes on. I knew this was another turn on for him. Players were naked in the locker room: Coach was the authority figure, he remained clothed until the right time. Coach had taken a seat on a bench, facing the lockers. "Come kneel and take my shoes off" he ordered. The positioning was obvious: he wanted me on my hands and knees in between the bench and the lockers so anyone walking by wouldn't see what was going on. Or at least it wasn't immediately obvious. The risk was turning us both on, my cock was at half mast already while I could see Coaches very obvious bulge in front of me. I obeyed and got to work. I untied and removed each of his tennis shoes and set them to the side waiting for the next instructions. "Worship my feet, use your hands, tongue and lips. Equally. I'll let you know when to remove the socks." Coach gave the next order and I jumped to it. I started by rubbing one with my hands, the way I was positioned I brought my face down and inhaled the other one before giving it a wet kiss on the toes. I then brought my full attention of the foot in my hand and took a few socked toes into my mouth and gave em a good suck while my hands continued to massage the main foot. Coach was giving me quiet encouragement and guidance. "Good boy" and "harder on the middle, get your thumb in there." I'd alternated between each foot, giving both a nice massage with my hands and soaking the toes of the socks before Coach finally had me remove the socks. "Take them off and sniff each one good before putting them in my shoes. Then kiss my feet and suck my toes." I inhaled deeply twice before diving back into his feet. Kissing and sucking alternating toes and feet I'd forgotten all about any risk. My moan made that clear. "Cool it, kid, gonna get us caught. I think that's enough feet for you. Go get me a towel." Coach rebuked me gently. I got up to get grab a towel, using my hands to cover my now fully raging erection. I passed one dude at his locker drying off. I smiled and shrugged trying to act nonchalant and he just smiled and shook his head. Not a prude, this was good! I grabbed Coach a towel and rushed back to the locker where he was now standing naked. "Finally, give me that towel" Coach said as he grabbed the towel and wrapped it around himself, "now follow me to the sauna." We began walking, passing another gym goer who ignored us completely. Coach had no qualms with being naked in the lockers but he liked to have me be the only one nude. And without a towel I was totally in his control. We reached the sauna and Coach opened the door for me to enter. I did so and with mixed relief and disappointment saw the room was empty. I walked to a bench and stood awaiting my next instructions. "Sit here next to me, boy" he instructed as he took the towel off and set it down. We were both nude now sitting next to each other already beginning to sweat from the heat. Coach brought his arm closest to me up over his head and said: "get your face in here, worship my pits boy." I immediately leaned in and took a whiff of his musky scent wafting from the displayed hairy armpit before shoving my nose and mouth in. I alternated between breathing in through my nose and licking and sucking on his pit hairs. This was one of my biggest fetishes, I couldn't get enough of a hairy, manly, sweaty armpit. As I made out with Coach's pit I didn't notice the door open. I trusted Coach to direct things safely, so I was completely in the zone. "Looks like we have company" Coach announced. I jump back and immediately started a mild panic. Despite trusting Coach, I'm scared of getting caught. After a few seconds though I realize I recognize the visitor. The dude from the lockers. He must have watched us come in here and guess what was up. My initial instincts for him were that he wasn't going to be a problem. I hadn't gotten a great look before but now I took him in: dark brown skin, he was probably Latino, he had dark hair with a short trimmed beard. Excellent physique but not overly muscular. He was wearing a towel around his waist so I couldn't tell what he was packing. "Why don't you join us? I can tell you're curious. Come sit on the other side of my boy here" Coach immediately took control, adding "and lose the towel." The new dude hesitated for a second before undoing the knot holding his towel up and letting it fall to the floor. Now buck naked, he bent over and grabbed the towel before bringing it over and getting it on the bench next to me. His cock was uncut and growing to a semi hard state surrounded by a perfect mound of pubes. "There ya go, sport. Now tell me, you like what you stumbled upon here?" Coach continued addressing our new comer. "It's hot, yes Sir" was his response. Coach had that affect on people. Demanded respect by instinct. "It is that, isn't it sport? Well this here is our rookie and he'll do anything we tell him to do. That's what rookies are for, after all." Coach was fulling addressing our hot Latino visitor, ignoring me sitting between them. My cock was leaking I was so turned on. "Anything, Sir?!" The boy replied with some shock in his voice. "That's right, sport. This rookie is particularly talented and eager to please. He'll suck your cock, drink your piss, let you fuck his ass, and that's just a sampling" Coach informed him. "Wow! I thought y'all were just exhibitionists or something. But this is great. I'd love to use the rookie. I actually do need to piss now that you've mentioned it. I've never done that though" the boy rambled in excitement. "Haha no worries, sport. Just relax and let the rookie do his thing," Coach said before looking me in the eye, "you are thirsty, aren't you, rookie?" "Yes, Coach, very thirsty" I almost shouted back. "See, sport? He's ready. Stand up on the bench and turn towards him and place your cock on his lips. Once he looks up into your eyes you can let loose whenever you're ready. I was watching the boys face as his brain took that in. He clearly hadn't expected this when he decided to join us. But in the end his curiosity won over and he stood up and turned towards me. I leaned forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth, looking up into his eyes feeling excited to be a urinal again. I'm such a lucky pig. As usual with first timers, he took some time to get his stream going but finally I tasted his piss begin to trickle onto my tongue. I kept my eyes looking up at him as I gulped his golden gift. I was in fag heaven and so grateful for Coach. He knew what his rookie liked. All too soon, the piss stream let up and the boy stepped back, instinctively shaking the drops from his cock onto my face. "Attaboy, sport. You like using the rookie urinal?" Coach asked the boy. "Yes sir! That was so hot," he responded. "Yes it was! Alright boys. Our luck in here can't last much longer so how `bout we move this party to the showers?" Coach replied and without waiting for a response stood up, put his towel around his waist and walked to the door. "Oh and don't bother with the towel, sport. Only Coaches get towels in the locker room. I'd already stood up and as I walked to follow Coach I turned and winked at our new friend who was clearly caught between shock and horniness. I turned and continued to march naked to the showers knowing he'd follow. Coach's gym has large private showers, as you'd expect in a fancy expensive place like this. He'd walked to the stall at the end of the hall of showers and opened the door. He took his towel off and hung it on a hook before ushering me in. I turned around just in time to see the boy approach the stall naked and quickly enter and join me followed by Coach who shut the door. "On your knees. Both of you," Coach said as he turned the shower on. The boy was again caught off guard. Coach must have sensed this as he said "you heard me, sport. You have free use of the rookie but all my boys must service me if they're going to stay on the team." I was so turned on. Was Coach building a team of boys with myself as the bottom rung? It was probably just a spur of the moment role play but a fag can dream! The boy, who we'll now refer to as Sport, must have in the meantime decided he was ok with this proposal because he was on his knees beside me. "Now before you share Coach's cock, the two of you kiss. Show me that teammate camaraderie," Coach ordered. I didn't allow Sport any time to consider, I reached over and pulled him into me and placed my open mouth on his. He immediately responded and we began making out on our knees before Coach. Our hands explored each other as our tongues battled in our mouths. He grabbed my hairy ass as I did the same to him. It took Coach coming in to pull us apart before we finally came up for air. "Damn boys! I said kiss not elope. Haha. That was hot though, I like when my team is passionate. Now show that passion with my cock. Share it now," he instructed and took our heads in his hands and brought them to his crotch. As I previously mentioned, Coach has a huge cock. I've played with it plenty so I just jumped to it. I took it into my mouth as far as I could go before gagging. Sport kneeled there in awe, either of my deep throat ability or of Coach's manhood. Probably the later. But as I sucked I entered the cocksucker zone and forgot all about him. Coach had to intervene again: "Boys! I said share. Sport, you haven't even touched my dick yet. Rookie, help him out of his trance. Suck his cock while he gets to know mine." I quickly obeyed and practically laid on the floor to start sucking Sports cock, the second time he'd been in my mouth that morning. I felt him move forward and he must have been sucking Coach now as I could hear the gags. He wasn't as practiced as me. But Coach is accustomed to training his team and he encouraged Sport along the way. "There ya go, Sport. Take it slowly, you'll learn with time. This time I want you to go all the way and hold your nose in my bush for 5 seconds. Can you do that, Sport?" Coach instructed and asked. "Yes Sir" was Sport's garbled response around the head of Coaches dick. "Good boy, now. . . One . . . Two . . . " Coach began counting as I brought my focus back to Sport's cock. It was delicious, about 6" and his balls hung low. I knew better than to make him cum so I just causally enjoyed sucking until I heard Coach summoning me again. "Ok Rookie. Sport's ready to share. I want you two to earn my load together and then share it." I jumped back up and this time instead of immediately sucking, I guided Sports head forward and to the side, myself taking the other. He followed my lead and we began licking the sides of Coach's cock, feeling our tongues rub against each other occasionally. We then started trading throat time, whoever wasn't deep was on the balls nursing on Coaches hairy sack. Finally, Coach informed us that he was close. "Rookie, I'm going to shoot in your mouth but you're not to swallow. Remember, half this load is for Sport." I nodded and said "yes, Coach" as he began to stroke. I opened my mouth with my tongue sticking out and stared up into his eyes knowing his load was imminent. Within seconds he began grunting and, placing his cock on my tongue, rope after rope of his cum entered my hungry mouth. It's harder than you'd think to not swallow his load, a pig whore in heat tastes his reward and needs more. But I resist. I have my orders. Coach wipes his cock on my tongue finally and says "there ya go, boys, make sure you share it evenly." He then grabs the backs of our heads and brings them together. Sport has apparently lost his shyness and leans into my face to start sucking on my tongue which is still sticking out. "Oh fuck, Sport, now that's a good boy! Suck that load off the rookies tongue," Coach praises as he lets go of our heads and steps back to watch. I grab his face and pull him back a few inches and while his mouth is still open spit a gob of Coach's cum in before leaning forward and returning the favor with his tongue. We continue our cummy make out session until I feel a warm liquid hit my face. The shower has been on but we've been playing outside of its reach. We look up and see that Coach has begun to piss on us. "Keep going, boys. Make out in my golden shower" Coach orders and we obey. Our mouths become one as his hot piss showers our faces and cascades down our bodies. As the stream ends we continue our kiss until he intervenes again. "Time to clean up, team. Let's get you boys washed up." He has us stand up and the three of us soap and scrub each other. Sport and I with full erections still. "Maybe next time I'll let you boys cum. Sport, meet me at my locker once you're dressed again and give me your phone number. I'll start a team chat," Coach continues to be in full control. I follow Coach back to his locker, him in a towel and myself still stark naked of course. He grabs a towel on the way and when we're at the locker he tosses it at me saying "wasn't expecting that, but damn it sure was hot, huh rookie?" "Fuck yes, Coach! Sport is sexy as fuck too" I added. "Hehe that he is. And as the rookie, you're to do whatever he says now boy. Understand?" Coach was smiling, knowing my answer already. "That won't be a problem, Coach!" I answered anyway. "Good boy. Now get dressed and get to work, I'll text you later," he replied and began to dry off. I hurriedly toweled off and dressed, knowing I was now much later than normal. But I was without regret and full of anticipation. My service radius had just expanded and the possibilities were endless.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-1
Date: Thu, 06 Jul 2023 17:13:57 +0000 From: 2son2s <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Sage Part 1 Office Urinal Saga: Part 1 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate if you're able!). The story here is Part 1 of a series which is based in part on actual events. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] "Urinal available?" I read the text and my cock jumped and immediately began to grow. I grabbed my phone and responded: "Yes Sir!" I'd met Sir several years ago on Grindr. I'd been on and off the app for years; wasn't supposed to be but couldn't help myself. The urges hit and temptation is strong. Over time I'd met Sir on numerous occasions. I'd finally got the courage to ask if I could give him my number so he could text anytime rather than sporadically when I happened to be on the app. Since then, we'd built a routine and I got to be at his disposal much more frequently. "Be ready at the spot in 5 min" the next text read. After responding with the affirmative "yes Sir" I got up from my desk and, adjusting my now hard cock, started walking towards the stairs. The spot we'd long used was a scarcely used restroom in the basement of the hotel adjacent to my office building. The standing "ready" orders were for me to be naked in the bigger stall ready to accept Sir. He wouldn't enter the stall unless I was completely bare ass naked. I walked quickly and got to the restroom in record timing. Luckily the big stall was free, and I started undressing before I even got to the stall. I closed the door and finished getting nude. Although it wasn't explicitly required by Sir, I then got on my knees to wait. I hear the restroom door open. I'm excited but also nervous, the thrill of the risk of being naked in public. Holding my breath, I waited for the slight tap on the stall door which would indicate it was in fact Sir who had entered the restroom. *tap tap* It was him. I eagerly reached forward and opened the door. There he was, staring in at the urinal fag he was about to use. Sir is about 6 ft, average build and somewhat plain looking, but handsome. My cock was rigid and had a soft glisten of pre cum. My mouth was salivating. Sir wordlessly came into the stall, shutting the door behind him. I knew our routine and that Sir would remain silent until the end, unless he decided to deviate from the routine which he did occasionally. I leaned back a bit to give him access. He always started out by playing with my untrimmed pubes and rubbing my hairy chest. He has a thing for otter fags. He stares into my eyes as he tussles my bush for a few seconds before backing up and starts to undo his pants. After what feels like ages, he finally has his cock free. It's about average size or maybe slightly above average. It's semi hard and I know from experience he needs a second to let it soften a bit more before he begins. I patiently wait until he finally steps forward again and places the tip of his cock on my lips that are already parted. I push my head slightly forward to make sure enough is in my mouth before locking my lips around his cock head. Then I wait, staring up at his eyes from my knees. My natural position. The anticipation is intense. Then it comes. I can feel and taste a small dribble on my tongue. It grows into a steady steam, and I begin gulping. Practiced gulps to keep up with his stream. I've never spilled a drop. I can't fathom wasting it. His piss always tastes perfect. Not too bitter but definitely some flavor. I have to control my urge to moan as I swallow. I can't be making noise. After a short time, his stream stops. But I know he's not done. He likes me to swallow it all except for a small bit: He likes to piss into my beard and down my chest so it dribbles a bit into my bush. He does this now, I see him smiling and also see his cock enlarging. After wetting my fur, he enters my mouth again and finishes using the urinal he came for. Then he steps back again. My mouth depressingly empty again after swallowing the last bit. At this point I eagerly wait to see if he'll deviate from routine at all. And I'm lucky: I hear him whisper so only I could hear: "mouth open, tongue out" - I'm not always allowed what comes next, so I grin before happily obeying as I watch as Sir starts stroking. It only takes a second for him to be fully hard and 5 or 6 good strokes until he steps forward once more, places his cock on my tongue and unloads into my mouth. After a few spurts I swallow and he wipes the last drop off the tip and allows me to lick it clean. I'm in faggot heaven but I know it's almost over. I watch as Sir puts away his cock. He then reaches down, places his fingers on my chin and guides me up off my knees so I'm standing before him. Me, fully nude and full of his cum and piss; Sir, fully clothed and satisfied. He leans forward and lightly kisses my lips and then whispers "such a good boy" to which I whisper back, "thank you, Sir." He smiles, pats my cheek, opens the door and leaves me there standing in the public restroom bare ass with his drying piss in my beard and body hair. I compose myself for a few seconds before beginning to dress and start dreaming of the next time I get the text: "Urinal available?"
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/taking-andre-down-the-rabbit-hole/taking-andre-down-the-rabbit-hole-2
Date: Mon, 29 Jan 2024 23:03:41 +0000 From: Dennis <[email protected]> Subject: Taking Andre down the rabbit hole - chapter 2 This is a fictionalised version of the truth. If you like what you read, have requests or feedback, please let me know on [email protected]. If you're not into kinky man on man sex, why are you here? If you are, please enjoy. Chapter 2 Andre climbed onto the bed, his bulk looking out of place in his skimpy red lingerie. The string disappearing between his cheeks whilst the b cup bra filled out nicely with his man boobs. As he got on all fours I told him to be face down and ass up, he instantly complied. His eagerness was radiating off of him in waves. "What are you?" I asked him "I'm your slut slave daddy. For you to use as you please." His uninhabited response made my dick twitch and leak precum. This boy has no experience and he gives that as his response!? He wants to be pushed, that's clear. I took off my clothes whilst verbally abusing him, telling him what a pathetic cumbucket he was. That he was useless and a weak specimen of our species. He didn't deserve anything except for my cock, my cum, my spit and my piss. No matter what degrading thing I said, he would react with yes daddy, or you're right daddy. His complete surrender of power was intoxicating and incredibly horny. Stepping onto the bed I told him to wiggle down a bit so I could sit down in front of his face. He looked at me which instantly resulted in a hard slap on his ass. Before I could reprimand him he apologised profusely. I'm sorry daddy, I forgot daddy. Oh this guy was such a natural. I slapped him again. Hard. Then I waited. Andre was silent so I slapped him again. Harder. Andre winced and wiggled his ass. I waited. He was quiet. Aiming for the exact same spot I slapped him again and Andre yelped. He whimpered and started apologising again. Before he could finish I started giving him slaps for every word I said. Every. Time. You. Get. Something. From. Daddy. You. Say. Thank. You. Daddy. Understood!? Andre was squirming and whimpering and I was wondering if he'd finally scream Tesla, our safe word, but he didn't. Instead he said. "Your cum slut it's sorry daddy. Thank you for slapping me daddy. I'll do better from now on." At this point I was harder than I had ever been and smiling from ear to ear. I sat down right in front of his head which was firmly pressed down into the mattress. "Now Andre, do you know how to deepthroat?" "No daddy, I'm sorry daddy." He replied. "Then it's time for you to learn. Put your lips around my cock." The slut lifted his head but kept his eyes down and he took my 19cm, cut, fat cock in his mouth. He started by obediently licking and swallowing all my precum, after which he tentatively moved up and down. It was clear he was avoiding his gag reflex by giving me a bog standard blow job. "Ok, now touch the back of your throat." Andre shuddered as he tried to take me down the back of his throat, he gagged and slightly shook his head. I put both hands on his head and told him to stick out his tongue. "It's easier like that and you are going to lick my balls before I'm going to let you go" Again he let out a whimper. He was deeply uncomfortable but his dedication to satisfy me took over and he pressed down with his tongue out. Before long I felt the head of my dick pop into his throat for a second and he quickly pulled back shaking his head and gagging. Instead of slapping him I stroked his head and told him he was doing good. Get back on it and try again, take your time. Give me five attempts and count them out. He wrapped his warm mouth around my cock, sucked and pushed down. I entered his throat again and he quickly pulled out. "One." I slapped his face. "One what!?" "I'm sorry daddy. One. Thank you daddy." "Good boy. Start again" "Yes daddy. Thank you daddy." During this exchange he didn't look at me once. His eyes were down all the time and I could see the first deepthroat tears rolling down his face. He grabbed my rock hard cock and instantly pushed his head down. I slid down his throat deeper than before and he held it whilst gagging. "One. Thank you daddy." Down he went again. "Two. Thank you daddy." Each thrust was deeper and more spit was drooling out of his mouth. He was getting the hang of it and after five attempts I gave him a little rest. My hand drew the slime from his mouth into his face and beard. I complimented him on being a good cock slut. "Now I want you to prove yourself worthy. Look me in the eyes whilst I use your throat as a fleshlight." Before Andre could reply I thrust his face down on my cock. The shock made him close his eyes but he instantly corrected himself whilst I forcefully entered his throat. I played with him for a couple of minutes, opening him up more and more until he finally got his tongue on my balls. "You are a very talented slave boy." Andre instantly averted his eyes and thanked me profusely for the comment. "Now crawl to the bathroom." Without complaint he complied as he knew what was coming. He told me he never tried piss before but he was very interested. In the bathroom I placed him on all fours in the shower and told him to separate his ass cheeks. I moved the string of his thong to the side so I could see that nice hole of his. Then my piss started following over his hole and his body. He moaned louder than anything he has done before so I said: "Tell me what you are!" "I am your piss slut daddy. I am yours to do with as you please." That' drove me into hyperdrive so I pushed my piss spraying hardon into his tight little hole. He screamed in pain as he was very tight and he wasn't prepared. He whimpered whilst I filled him with piss without letting up. Trying to get away he pushed his face into the piss on the floor which clearly turned him on more and his arsehole started to relax. When my piss ran out I started to pound him harder, verbally abusing him, calling him names, all accompanied by a chorus of returning "yes daddy" and "thank you daddy " I pulled out my dirty cock, told him to turn around and sit on his knees with his head against the wall. He opened his mouth like the natural slave he was and I pushed in hard. It only took a couple of thrusts and I exploded in his throat, making him gag but I pushed on. Then when I finally pulled out I told him to open his mouth and sit like that until I told him he could go. There he was, dressed up like a bear sissy, covered in piss and cum leaking out of his mouth. The perfect time for me to go get a cup of coffee. To be continued...
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/office-urinal-saga/office-urinal-saga-10
Date: Tue, 17 Oct 2023 01:32:24 +0000 From: Urinal Fag <[email protected]> Subject: Office Urinal Saga: Part 10 Office Urinal Saga: Part 10 -- Gay Urination / Authoritarian This is a continuation of my first Nifty submission after many years enjoying the content as a reader (donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ if you're able!). While each character in this saga is molded after a real person and real events, this story is pure fantasy. If you're not old enough to be here, please do not read. If you're not into kinky male on male gay sex, this is not for you either. Finally, I'd love to hear your feedback and comments: [email protected] I get hard writing it. I love to know you get hard reading it. ------------ It was surprisingly easy to fold all my urinal and sub duties into my work and home real world life. Wednesdays I served Master as usual. Sir would keep me full of piss everyday - I learned his bladder schedule pretty quickly so I began to anticipate him. Coach and Dad had both always been more sporadic and spontaneous. I think they liked it that way. Kept me on my toes. I'd been keeping in regular contact with Sport. In fact we texted nearly everyday. We'd become buddies even - fuck buddies sure but even beyond that. I was hoping we could become real world friends. That'd open a lot of possibilities outside of work! But I hadn't worked up the courage to approach him with that subject yet. Maybe today would be the day. "Good morning sir" I typed and sent. As established day one, when Coach wasn't around I was to refer to Sport as sir in conversation. (As distinguished from Sir - I know, too many Alphas to keep up with: a fags life). Sport (S): hey faggot, what's up? Rookie (R): just working, sir, bored and horny as usual. You? S: lol typical. But yea same here :-P R: hehe figured as much S: remember how Coach made me eat his ass during our last team workout? R: mmm I do, that was your first time eating ass right? S: it was. I liked it. But I have to confess: I've never had my ass eaten like that R: no way! Seriously?! We'd had two sessions with Coach since our first, plus 3 or 4 quickies between the two of us. I'd rutted in his pits plenty and socked his cock and balls often (not to mention drink his piss multiple times). But never had my mouth on his hole. S: seriously. I think that changes today. You free for lunch? R: yes sir I am, meet in the cafeteria at 11? S: perfect. This would be our second lunch "date" - he worked about 2 blocks away so it was easy to meet up for lunch or quick sex. It was a pretty perfect situation. The morning went by agonizingly slow but when it was time I finally headed down to the courtyard with the cafeteria. I saw Sport already standing off to the side. I walked up to him grinning and, shaking his hand, greeted him "hey man what's up?" We maintained normal friend behavior in public, of course. He replied: "all good, bro. You ready to grab some lunch?" "Sure thing" I answered and we proceeded to get food before sitting at a table. Two bros having lunch. "Oh wait, I almost forgot, I brought you a drink" Sport said nonchalantly but I could see the devil in his eye. He handed me a greenish-yellow tinted soda bottle, making it impossible to tell what was in it, that was slightly warm to the touch. I immediately knew what it was. "Nice! Thanks man, I was parched" I told him as I grabbed it and took a swig. The piss I could tell was fresh by the temperature. The flavor was slightly bitter but flavorful. Perfect. "Enjoy! Now let's eat" he replied as he started into his sandwich. We chatted about mostly nothing while we ate. Talked about sports and beer, we actually did have some things in common. I realized the timing was perfect to approach a posible real life friendship. "So listen. What would you say about hitting up a game with my husband and I sometime? We'd figure out a way to make it seem natural, name you randomly start chatting to us at a bar or something and one thing leads to another?" I shot my shot and held my breath. "I dunno man. Seems risky" he started. "But think about it! The possibilities. I could, ahem, make myself useful more often." I candidly suggested. "Hmm. That is true. You're a cool dude too, even without the other benefits" he said. "Just think about it, OK?" I said, not wanting to pressure him. "Cool. I will. Now, you're still hungry I assume. Finish you your drink and follow me" he ordered and got up. "Yes sir" I replied instinctively and chugged the rest of his bottled urine before walking after him. He walked to our usual spot, to the handicapped stall. He already had his pants halfway down as I closed the door behind us. "Get after it, faggot. Eat my ass" he demanded as he bent over. His hairy hole peaked out at me and I almost started to drool as I leaned forward and went to work. I could taste his musky sweat and metallic manly ass flavor. I wanted to make sure he got the best rimjob experience for his first time. I dug my tongue in as far as it would go and wiggled it around. I held his ass checks apart to try to gain more access. His moans told me I was succeeding. His hard uncut cock was bouncing and he was bucking his ass back onto my tongue. "Fuck, rookie!! So fucking good!!" He barely whispered. I knew if someone came in the restroom they'd hear us. But I was in the zone. "I haven't even touched my cock and I feel close. Suck it, fag" he ordered and I immediately crawled further under him to start sucking. I was basically now sitting against the stall wall, fully clothed for once, as he straddled my face. I sucked greedily as I brought my hand to his hole and began to fuck it with my finger. Then with two. He resisted at first. But he couldn't find anything to dispute the feeling I was imparting on him. I felt his balls tense up and knew he was close. I shoved my face all the way down his shaft before taking two fingers as deep as I could go. "FUCK!! I'm cumming!!" He all but shouted as his cock exploded in my throat. I swallowed it all as I continued to massage his hole and he panted over me trying to catch his breath. "Holy fuck, faggot. You're a magician or something. Never thought I'd cum like that with something in my ass! I guess I can understand now how you get when Coach fucks you!" Sport was a rambler, especially about sex. "I just know what men like, sir! I'm glad you enjoyed." After he'd gained his composure he pulled up his pants and started fastening them while still looking down at me in the floor. He was grinning. I knew that grin by now, he had something in mind. "You've had my piss. My cum. Even my ass juice. Want one more of my fluids before we got to go?" He asked. I knew what he was getting at. Of all the men who were my regulars, he liked spitting on me the most. "Always, sir!" I answered. Like I'd turn down more man fluids. "I think you need to do more to earn it. How bout you get to licking the urinal?" He smirked as he talked. This was no problem for me though. I immediately got up and walked out of the stall to the urinals and started to get on my knees again. "Not so fast, fag. Clothes off" I heard Sport say. "Of course, sir" I said as I started to undress. Once I was naked, with Sport staring over me, I got to work kissing and licking the urinal. Naked and slobbering on a urinal hoping to have a man spit in my mouth as a reward. Truly a faggot. "Alright, rookie. I guess you've earned it. Crawl over here and open up" Sport ordered and I obeyed. I opened and looked into his eyes as he hawked for a second and spat frankly into my waiting mouth. I swallowed and said "thank you, sir." He leaned forward and, grabbing the back of my head, brought my face to his and planted a wet kiss. He kept his face there for a second and then said "let's make this work - we'll go to that game you suggested. And I'll use you as my urinal the whole time." I smiled and said "yes! Thank you sir!" Finally he started walking away and said "see you later, rookie. You can get dressed now." After he'd left I got up and went into the stall with my clothes. Before dressing I needed to text someone. R: hey Coach! Got some news for you. I think Sport is ready for you to fuck. I just ate his ass and made him cum with my fingers knuckle deep. I knew Coach had been wanting to pop that cherry. I knew it was time. I hoped Coach would be proud. C: hehe good boy! Good to know. That cherry is mine next time. And you'll prepare it for me with your tongue. R: of course, Coach! Can't wait ;-) Coach was going to get some virgin ass and I was going to get a regular real life buddy to use me in secret. Life was good!
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/q-sub/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-international-school-for-boys/the-international-school-for-boys-5
Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2023 10:40:48 +0000 From: steve wood Subject: Gay authoritarian-The international school for boys. Part 5 The international school for boys -- Part 5 I was expecting to go to sleep after the shock of finding out that every Saturday it was going to be my job to thank my mentor Williams by basically pleasuring his dick yet I was not allowed any pleasure. I was pondering this thought when our dormitory leader Markus tapped me on my shoulder and whispered in my ear that it's not time to sleep you as you have more duties to perform. Williams showed you tonight how he expects to be pleasured and as dormitory leader I get to chose who I want to pleasure me. I find you hot Sears, I love watching you get spanked naked and I love the fact your fourteen and I get to chose you for my pleasure. Now get yourself over to my bed and get on your knees, you know what to do. Won't I get a demerit for being out of bed when it's lights out time, yes your gonna get a demerit but you will get many more if you don't get to my bed now. As I walk over to his bed I see the time passes 8.30pm and the lights go out and my bracelet lights up. I guess I can't win here and know my ass is on the line again. Markus is ready and waiting, I kneel down and he immediately grabs my head and pulls me into his groin, his dick is rock hard already and he pushes my head down onto his eager and really quite big cock. Markus is eager his dick is throbbing and his hands are working my head up and down his dick, my eyes are watering and I'm gagging as he is so rough with me. Yes Sears take my dick boy, oh I've so wanted to have your mouth deep on my dick, come on suck harder and use your tongue to pleasure me or I will see you get your ass spanked harder than you ever experienced. His cock is swelling in my mouth as I go up and down on his dick, then I hear him getting close and I know he is about to cum, stupidly I touch my dick and the bracelet lights up again, fuck another demerit and then my mouth feels this horny boy release in my mouth. Don't dare spill anything or were both in trouble as I swallow and suck him dry and cleaning his cock of any leftover cum. Good boy this is your job now Sears to please your leader now get back to bed. I jump back into my bed with my dead raging, I hump the bed a little then dose off to sleep but I so need to cum. It's Sunday and we can stay in bed until 8am, but then our mentors come and it's shower time and we are reminded it's full uniform for chapel. We go for breakfast first then all boys are off to chapel to sing boring hymns and get preached to about god, our behaviour and following the rules of school and life. We shuffle out of chapel and as we get out into the bright sunlight I here Williams shout where is your cap Sears, fuck I forget that stupid rule. Another demerit is added to my growing list. We return to our dormitory and change from uniform to sweatshirt with the school name on the front, as year 1 boys we have to wear shorts as the school sees us as just young boys. The rest of the day we enjoy a nice walk, we play games together and I feel relaxed until my dear mentor Williams reminds me that I'm on punishment parade again tonight. He also reminds me that I have behaved poorly as a new boy in the school, that despite my 3 punishment sessions where I have been spanked first for 1 minute, then 2 and finally 3 minutes, yet I have still not learned and have a further 3 demerits to deal with. Sadly Sears despite the spankings I have given you your on parade again tonight. Unfortunately for you, you now move onto stage 2 of school punishments. As your mentor it's seems I have failed and I have reported this to my mentor in year 3 who is not just disappointed in me but very much in you. Tonight he will be coming to deal with not only you but also me for failing you. So we will see each other at 5.30, you know the drill. The rest of the afternoon I'm in fear of what's going to happen now, I don't have long to wait. So at 5.30pm I know the drill I slowly remove me clothes and fold them up carefully, I see the other boys looking at me again, it seems they love to see a fellow student disciplined. I stand on the yellow line and wait, again naked, my dick getting hard again. I just can't control it, I so need a really nice wank. The door opens and in comes my mentor Williams, surprisingly he is naked and I see his nice dick making me throb even more. He joins me on the line, I want to ask what he is doing but remember talking will only bring another demerit. At 6pm a 3rd year boy enters who informs me he is Williams mentor, his name is Harrington. So 2 boys to receive discipline, Sears you have not learned from being spanked so now you move up to what year 2 boys get, a nice big slipper that when applied to a bare bottom stings like mad. So as Williams has failed to help you follow the rules it's now my duty to help using my slipper on your bare ass. First I will slipper Williams for his failure, then I shall beat you Sears with 6 very hard strokes of my slipper. Harrington gets the boys to pull out the spanking bench and firstly invites Williams to mount and present. Turn around Sears I want you to see what's coming your way. Williams looks very sexy mounted on the bench with his ass sticking up in the perfect position to slipper. So Williams your first punishment was 6 strokes so this time 12. I watch as he lines up the slipper then swings it really hard into the waiting bottom of Williams, as it's strikes his bottom it sounds like a pistol shot going off followed by a groan from Williams, then again the slipper strikes leaving big red marks on his bottom. Harrington is swinging hard and it sends a shiver down my spine. I hope this is teaching you a valuable lesson Williams, make sure your boy obeys and follows the rules. Harrington slams the slipper into his bottom as hard as he can over and over again, Williams is groaning with every smack under I think is close to crying when Harrington finishes his 12. I'm pretty scared as Williams with difficulty climbs off the bench, his bottom is really red, it makes my dick twitch seeing him with a slippered bottom. Up you get Sears, your turn now. I reluctantly climb onto the bench trying to get my dick into a comfortable position, as I lean forward I feel my ass being raised right up. Here I am again a fourteen year old boy naked and mounted on a punishment bench about to be slippered by a year 3, 13 year old boy. I don't have long to think as the slipper is tapping my bottom as Harrington decides where he will strike my bottom, then suddenly whack, the slipper slams into my bottom and I scream in pain as it's really really stings, I'm desperate to grab hold of my bottom but before I can move I get a second whack, the smack is very intense and is radiating across my bottom, then whack another smack. Learning your lesson Sears next time it will be 12 then 18, if that fails to change your ways you will be seeing a year 4 mentor. The slipper slams into my bottom again as I yelp, my dick is going down rapidly as my ass is on fire. Harrington with huge efforts completes my 6 with his horrible slipper. I can't believe how my ass is throbbing as I climb off the bench, my dick is soft and I have tears in my eyes. I stand on the yellow line with Williams showing our burning bottoms to the other boys. Williams then leaves and Markus comes over and feels my bottom, running his hands over both sides of my bottom it feels quite soothing, but then he slips his finger into my crack and teases me, nice hot bottom you have Sears and nice and moist inside as he gently fingers me. My dick goes rock hard once again. You look so nice standing there naked with a glowing hot red bottom and your nice hard dick. I hate this treatment but so want Markus to do some more, his finger wiggles around my hole which only makes my dick more eager. I so want him to stroke my dick, Markus knows what I want, not allowed to touch that hard dick of yours Sears, but sure is nice playing with your ass and this nice moist hole. My time is up and I return to my bed to get some clothes on, but my ass and dick are throbbing. Markus looks suddenly like a god, I so want to do more with him, he approaches me and reminds me that he is the leader and he gets what he wants. Later I want your lovely mouth on my dick again, he smiles at me then leaves the dormitory. I lie on my bed feeling so horny, yet with a really red, hot and sore bottom. I so need a wank, I just have to find a way to cum. I think more about Markus and decide this maybe the only way to find some relief so I think of a plan..... To continue to enjoy nifty stories, please help them by donating to help them keep the site running and free.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/latin-vacation
Date: Thu, 5 Sep 2024 17:58:37 +0200 From: john skehan Subject: Latin Vacation Latin vacation cajuncock This is a work of gay fiction meant for adults. If it is illegal for you to read this where you live, leave now. IF you enjoy the stories on this site, donate to keep it going. [email protected] I was on a holiday in a medium sized Latin American nation when I was picked up off the streets and thrown into the back of a black SUV with a black hood thrown over my head and cuffs on my wrists. We must have driven for twenty minutes when we entered the garage. I was hustled into an elevator where I sensed that there was another man waiting. The hood was removed as the doors closed. The other man was in his 30s with just a bit of grey hair mixed with his dark short black hair. He was clean shaven standing about four inches over my 5'10" smiling. He nodded to the two thugs, one of whom immediately pulled out a knife and began cutting my clothes off. My shirt fell to the floor followed by my thin summer slacks and skimpy boxer briefs. The man said "The boss will like this one for sure. Look, he's even hard! It must be a hardon brought by fear and he's been cut as a baby I guess." Now more embarrassed than ever my stiff cock bounced slinging clearing fluid around. I looked up as the elevator doors opened. We were at the penthouse of a tall building,at least twelve floors. The bright sunlight was blinding as I was shoved out to stand on a shiny marble floor. Still cuffed I was pushed through a pair of double doors finding myself in an ornately furnished living room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The tall man called out "Sal, we found what you wanted, come and see?" An oriental screen opened and a man in his late 20s came out wearing a floor length oriental robe. He smiled saying "Welcome to my home. I am Sal Hernandez and you are? " I mumbled "Victor, Victor Hayes."He walked around inspecting my naked body. I'd heard of the Hernandez cartel, a powerful crime family in the nation. They were rumored to control drugs, prostitution, and arms smuggling among other things. The two thugs stood silent watching as Sal lifted my ball sack and now hard cock up to inspect them. He commented saying "The doctors did a good job cutting you when you were a baby. Too many these days are not well trained for that. Most families here cannot afford to have the procedure done on their baby boys. But I do think that all of this messy hair should go, don't you think so Ricky?" The other man said "Sure boss, I'll do that right away if it pleases you?" Sal nodded and took a seat on the sofa right in front of me. His man went off returning with a pail of warm water and a straight razor. Skillfully he removed all of my pubic hair leaving me as smooth as a baby. I looked down. My erection looked even larger than its nine inches. But there was another clear drop on the tip. Sal clapped his hands and two young naked teens came running out. Sal pointed to the erection and the now plentiful drops. Both boys fell to the task of licking them off. The feel of their warm mouths made me moan out at the new pleasure. Sal laughed saying "It's true boys, well trained boys, know how to do that better, am I not correct?" All three of the other adults moaned out "Yes, boss!" I looked around to see that the three of them had their large, uncut cocks in their now jerking hands. Sal stood dropping his robe saying "Boys, prepare him for me. It is time that another American learns of our native ways." One of the boys bent me over while the other two licked and sucked on my hole wetting it with saliva. Ricky moved to Sal covering Sal's cock with his own saliva. I knew what was to happen and moaned even louder. Sal laughed saying "See he wants my twelve inches inside his hole? I bet that he will want to extend his trip and stay with us for our use and entertainment." Sal moved behind me, lining up the big piece of meat for entry. Ricky moved to my face, shoving his own meat into my open mouth silencing my screams. Two of the boys pulled my ass open for Sal's entry. He took his time savoring each inch as he went into my warm tunnel. One of the now naked thugs shoved an open bottle under my nose. I inhaled deeply. The fumes overcame any resistance I might have had. I pushed back on the invading pole of flesh. Ricky grabbed my head saying "OH, Yes, boss he really wants it now. Maybe even he wants all of us?" I sucked harder until I felt the cock in my mouth throb giving me all of his sweet cream as he yelled. This only made Sal pound me harder as he yelled "You like my brother's cream? Now all of us will fill you up." His pounding quickened as he went into a fury. I called out "YES!" when I felt him throb in my tunnel giving me his load. Sal fell on my back still throbbing inside me. He kissed my neck telling me "You have given me much pleasure Victor. I might reward you with my cousins here and perhaps later Ricky and I can deliver more pleasure to your needy body?" I again screamed out a loud "YES!" I had not shot my load yet and wanted Sal's two cousins to fill me too. I was kept there for three days. My things had been brought from my hotel and I was treated well by all of the men of Sal's family. As I was about to board my flight home Sal and Ricky stuffed my pockets with bills asking me to return again for another holiday to their country.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/piss-pursuit
Date: Sat, 31 Aug 2024 20:09:29 +0000 (UTC) From: "[email protected]" Subject: Piss Pursuit Piss Pursuit This story tells of a man's piss play pursuit. He has a master who lets him seek it from other men of any age, race, ethnicity, etc. Please meet any legal requirements if you choose to read the story. Write me if you like it or have feedback. I must have spent an hour scrolling through the profiles of guys on a few of the social media hook-up sites. Most of them are tops or bottoms looking to fuck. Not me. I wanna suck dick, swallow cum, and drink piss. Yea, I'm into oral and watersports. And I guess I'm into humiliation. I kinda like being degraded. Maybe that's why I like staying dressed while worshipping a guy's dick, and depriving myself of pleasuring my own dick. So while scrolling I saw a pic of 2 shirtless guys. I took a chance and sent them a message: "U guys are so hot! I wish I could suck ur dicks n drink ur piss til u both bust ur nut down my throat." Their reply was quick: "Come on over we could use that." "U serious?" I asked. "Come in we will use you and then you can jet." "Cool, address?" I asked. And they sent it. So I dressed to go. I put on my plastic cage first. A little lotion let my dick slide in. Then I locked it. Next came my yellow Piss Play jock strap, jeans, and the tightest white t-shirt I have. Sneakers and a black baseball cap to finish the look. I grabbed a water bottle and took off. After messaging them I was there I went to their hotel room. The guy who opened the door was hot as fuck. About 5'8" medium build, looked Hispanic, hairless, wearing a towel around his waist. He waved me in and dropped his towel as soon as I shut the door. I passed the bathroom first then entered the room with 2 double beds. Lying on the bed was the other guy. He was white, taller, heavier, and older than his partner. And they both looked much older than their profile pic. But I was so horny I didn't care. I was there for dick, cum, and piss. So wasting no time I asked, "Which one wants to go first?" "I will I guess," said the one lying on the bed. The other one excused himself and went to the bathroom. I panicked because I was afraid he was gonna piss in there while I sucked his partner. And I wanted his piss. So while he was in there I said, "I thought that's what I was here for," and I went after him. He was just washing up at the sink. "Phew!" And I returned to the partner and started sucking his dick. He wore a metal cock ring, so I figured he'd probably be hard to suck off. And I was right. It took him about 15 min. to get hard. His dick was about 6 inches. I sucked slow and soft then fast and hard. I licked the head and tugged at his balls. He pushed my head down on his cock to go deeper. He smashed my upper lip into his cock ring. I didn't like that. I had to use my pointer finger for insulation. And after another 15 min. he starting going limp. The Hispanic guy joined in by sucking his partner's tit. They kissed and I kept trying but it wasn't working. I used my hand then he used his own hand. I wanted the Hispanic guy too and didn't want to run out of energy. So I stopped, looked at the Hispanic guy and said, `Ok, your turn." He eagerly rolled onto his back, and I got atop him and sucked his uncut 5" cock. It got hard fast. So I sucked him hard and fast, using the best skills I had. I licked the head, inside the foreskin, then shaft then back to the head. I gave his balls some love then back to his shaft. "He's really good," I heard him softly say to his partner. Then he started touching me, which aroused me. He held my shoulders and massaged them. I looked at him and he was looking back. He was smiling. I kept eye contact while sucking and raised my eyebrows and winked to show I liked him too. We gazed at each other, and I felt so good, so wanted. He reached for my dick and felt the cage I was wearing. "He has a cage," he told his partner, "That's hot!" Next he took my arms and gently put them behind my back in handcuff position. "You a sub boy?" he asked. I nodded still sucking and looking at him. He started thrusting his hips. I got excited. "Great! Here we go. He's gonna cum," I thought. I sucked and sucked but couldn't get him off either. Damn! Next he pulled out and got behind me and on top of me. He pulled my shorts down a little. I didn't lift my hips so he couldn't pull them all the way. He put his dick on top of my butt crack and started grinding and thrusting. He felt so good on top of me so I let him. After a little bit he rolled over and I resumed sucking his dick. After what seemed like an eternity, an hour and a half, I stopped and told them I had to get going. No cum and no piss. I was so disappointed. They were cool with me leaving since it was really late and they knew they couldn't cum. The hot Hispanic guy walked me to the door. Great! Here's my chance, I thought to myself. So in front of the bathroom I asked him if he wanted to piss. "Sure," he said. My heart raced with excitement. I sat on the toilet, he stepped in front of me, and I put his dick in my mouth. In a few seconds he started pissing! Slowly at first and then a comfortable stream. It was good piss, not too strong, not too weak. I swallowed the first mouthful. The next mouthful I held and massaged his dick in it, then swallowed. Another mouthful and I swallowed. The stream lessened and then stopped. I sucked his dick a little longer then stood up. "Have you ever done that before?" I asked. "No" he answered. "How was it?" I asked. "Different." "Did you like it?" "Yeah." I smiled. I was glad. We hugged. I wanted to kiss him but thought better not. Then I said "See ya" and left. In the car I drank some water to wash the piss down. Then I drove home to someone I didn't tell you about yet. Waiting at home was my master. He lets me suck other guys' dicks for their piss and cum. But I can't get pleasured. So I have to wear a cage and I can't get fucked. I'm His. When I got inside, I went to him obediently and kneeled before him. He leaned forward to smell my breath. "I only smell piss," he said. "Yes, Sir. Neither one could cum." And I told him about the first guy's metal cock ring. Then Master spun me around still on my knees, pushed me forward, pulled down my jeans and jockstrap, lifted my butt in the air and sniffed my butthole. "I smell cock!" He roared. "But no cum, Sir! He got on top of me just for a minute. It happened so fast, Sir. I'm so sorry, Sir!" Then whack! I strong spank came across my ass cheek. I apologized again and told him the whole story. "Ok. Send them a thank you message and a picture of your caged cock...from your kennel." I crawled to my kennel and texted the 2 guys: "Thnx guys! That was fun. My master was pleased I came back with piss breath. If not I had to drink my own or He'd punish me." Then I sent a pic of my caged dick and told them I had permission to send the pic. "I should have given you mine" was the response. I sent a smiley face. Then I texted, "Sir won't let me piss yet n i been leaking cum since l left u guys." No response followed. And I really was leaking cum. Not precum ooze, but droplets of cum. And there was nothing I could do about it. Master went to bed, and I kept playing on my phone. Well, looking for more piss action actually. The next profile I found interesting was anonymous with a chastity interest. So I sent him the pic of me caged. "Love those, have one myself," was the reply. "I can slide my dick out. I wanna get a steel one," I confided in him. "I have one but it's way too big. It's almost impossible for mine to slide out," he said. "Steel or plastic?" I asked. "Both." "Which one holds u better" "The plastic but mine also looks slight different than yours" I thanked him and waited a bit. Then I sent a pic of me drinking piss. No response. "That a turn off I guess," I texted. "Not my thing" was the reply and the conversation ended there. While chatting with chastity guy, I messaged someone who described himself as 6'0", 8.5" uncut, fit, straight-curious, vers bottom, otter/discreet. My girlfriend told me to look for a tutor/study buddy with a pretty cock to practice with. HWP uncut BWC is a plus. Pics get my attention! Dick makes me focus! I'm hosting." "Nice dick n body," I texted. I waited. No response. "Ask ur gf if u can feed me ur piss," I tried next. No response ever came. :-( I was done with him but I wasn't done looking for more dick and piss potential. So I scrolled up and down some more. I saw a profile pic of a skinny black guy with a long dick. He listed he likes his ass ate. So there was my opening. I first sent a smiley face. He replied, "What are you looking for" "Usually dick to suck n drink from. I like ur pic. U like ur ass ate?" I answered and asked. "Love my ass ate You got any pictures" So I sent a headless body pic. "Yummy You like eating ass" "If it clean," I texted back. "Of course Lick it clean" "Black men r so fukkin hot" I texted. "Nice Deepthroat it," he replied. "I can try if u not to thic" "Long skinny dick just for you" "Send me a nut video" "Don't have one on my phone" "U host or know a place?" I asked. "For like a meet up" he replied. "Yea" I texted. And the conversation ended there. And it was 6am. And my cock was still leaking cum. And I had to piss. The water I drank plus the Hispanic guy's piss made its way to the release valve. And I wasn't allowed to piss without Master's permission. And he had gone to bed. I had hit on 2 other guys with no success so I squeezed my piss and cum back as best as I could and went to sleep. An hour or so later master and I were both awake. Master, completely naked, walked over to my kennel and stood so his dickhead was between the bars. That was my cue. I positioned my mouth open in front of his dick and waited for his yellow nectar to flow. Morning piss is very strong. And his was very strong. Too strong. Too much ammonia for my taste. But I knew my place and had to drink it. I squeezed my eyes shut and gulped, gulped, gulped, until He was done. "Now suck it, toilet boy!" He commanded. "Ooh yeah. That feels good. Suck it good faggot. I let you be a whore last night. Now serve me good! Ahhh. Oh yeah. Worship your master's dick." Of course I loved sucking Master's thin 7" cock. I could take it all the way to his black, straight pubes. After several minutes he exploded his hot cum into my mouth. I savored the taste then swallowed. "Good toilet boy," he said as he patted my head. I waited patiently for the next command. "Ok. You can piss in your bowl. Make sure you drink it all. That's your breakfast." End of story
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/marching-band-cadet/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/maverick/
Nifty Archive: maverick ™ Have a Nifty Day nifty gay authoritarian maverick SizeDateFilename 52K Sep 3 21:46 maverick-2 32K Jun 21 2021 maverick-1
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/cyclades/
Nifty Archive: cyclades ™ Have a Nifty Day nifty gay authoritarian cyclades SizeDateFilename 34K Aug 28 19:52 cyclades-2 34K Aug 26 19:51 cyclades-1
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/beard-or-balls
Date: Tue, 27 Aug 2024 02:33:28 +0000 From: Sinsored Subject: Beard or Balls David's Choice Beard or Balls David's Choice Lord Alexander ([email protected]) --- Summary: Set in the near future, David's story takes place in San Francisco. He's committed a crime first thing in the morning while on his way to work. His arrest and trial happened immediately. As we join David and his attorney Robert in a conference room, David has to make a choice. The judge has found him guilty and sentencing is in just over one hour. --- Included Story Text --- (also attached as a text file) "Beard or balls?" Robert looked at me with one eyebrow raised and his finger ready to check the appropriate box on his court tablet. Suddenly it all seemed too real. "But, you said you'd get the judge to rule not guilty." "I know this isn't the outcome you'd hoped for but..." "I'd hoped to go home today with a sentence of a few hours of picking up trash on the road while wearing only an orange vest and no pants. Losing my manhood wasn't even a consideration. I can't believe this is happening so fast. I was only arrested two hours ago and I'm already a convict!" "This judge is a hard ass. Any other judge would have gone much lighter. It's your first offense. Nevertheless, you have to choose an option on the pre-sentencing report." Robert was the best criminal defense attorney in the state and David had felt lucky to get him. David wasn't feeling very lucky at that point, however. David continued complaining about the justice system, "The AI was set to sensitive. Even the tech said it could have been wrong. I mean it. Robert, this isn't fair. Can we appeal this ruling?" "David, look. It's not ideal. But, really, it's not so bad. You're just now 18 years old and have a four-inch pecker. With the new law going into effect in January, you'd have been unmanned then anyway, right?" "With only a chastity cage. And, that law is unconstitutional. How can the government simply decide that any male with a donger shorter than 7 inches shouldn't be allowed to reproduce?" David was frustrated. But, mostly, he was sad to have to lose either his beard or his nuts. "David, we both know you did the crime. This judge is known for making sure convicts receive the highest possible punishment. She'd have put you in prison as well but, he had to select between prison, castration, or facial deforestration." "But..." David trailed off. If he didn't choose, the judge would impose both the laser hair removal of his beard and his castration. Castration barely describes that choice. Sure, his nuts would become history but that's where castration normally ends. "David, I know. It's not just having your balls chopped off. The castration option also includes permanent pubic hair removal, a tattoo where your pubes used to be that says "EUNUCH" in bold letters, circumcision, and a large Prince Albert ring welded into your cock head. Still, it could be thought of as the better option." "What? Getting deballed, denuded, and tattooed is better than just getting my beard removed?" "It's a bit more than that. Once the beard is removed by laser hair removal, a large septum ring is installed with a charm on it that says, 'UNMANNED'." "What the fuck? Why would they need to do that? Isn't that cruel and unusual punishment or something?" "They don't want people to think your smooth face was your choice. Not having a beard is uncommon but, some men prefer it. Just to be sure that it's evident that you've been unmanned and are not just clean-shaven, the septum ring is required." David looked at the clock. Court started in one hour and ten minutes. The judge had made it clear that she wanted his choice one hour before the hearing. David had ten minutes to decide how to be humiliated for the rest of his soon-to-be sad life. "I can't decide. How could any man make such a choice? Can you decide for me?" Robert looked conflicted. Legally, the client had to make the decision. However, Robert really wanted David to choose castration. David had been there when Robert was stripped-searched and knew how huge his client's balls were. David's low-hanging huge balls sat nicely behind his four-inch cock. "Okay, I sent the report," Robert said as he closed the cover to his tablet. "Oh fuck! It's getting real now. Which is it?" Robert didn't have a chance to answer before the door opened and two very large guards came in to fetch David for his sentencing hearing. Grabbing David under each arm the two officers had no problem picking David up from his chair and putting him on his feet facing the wall. "Should we just strip him here or wait until he's about ready to go in?" The guard asking the question looked like he was about 19 years old. The older guard answered with a shrug and said, "Here is as good as any place. After all, convicts have to report to court nude. So, let's just get it over with." This wasn't the first convict these two had stripped down. One lifted David off his feet and the other pulled off David's pink plastic prison-issued sandals. Underpants were forbidden in jail and David was wearing a pair of shorts that were two sizes too large. After a fast tug, the pants were flung onto the chair in the corner. "Arms up, Sunshine," the guard behind David pulled David's t-shirt over David's head. "Quick and easy," the guard said as the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clicking filled the room. The guard that had stripped David's lower half whistled and said, "Don't be shy cunt. This will be your last opportunity to show off those huge low hangers before you're unmanned forever." Then the guard half smiled and added, "Damn, bitch, you're all potatoes and no meat." Being called a bitch and a cunt stung David's ego. Once convicted, there was no protection against hate speech for the convict. Any insult could be used on any felon. David knew he'd have to get used to being insulted to his face but, nothing could make him like it. As he was being led into the crowded hallway, the handcuffs behind David's back prevented him from covering his junk. As his balls were swinging from the guards's rough handling, David realized he didn't know which option his lawyer had decided on. It was at that moment when David finally realized what being unmanned would mean. From now on, he'd never have the legal status of being a man. (One hour later) "Since the introduction of the Criminal Unmanning Mandate (The CUM Act), crime has seen a dramatic 80 percent reduction," the judge was giving one of her normal long drawn out lectures before announcing her sentence. She continued to go on about the wonderful accomplishments of the various new punishments created in the CUM Act. Finally, she got to the point and David would learn how he'd be unmanned. "Having been found guilty of jaywalking, this court sentences you to the following. You shall be taken into custody by the State Department of Corrections (DOC). The court orders DOC to hold the convict until its pubic hair has been permanently removed, a tattoo with the word EUNUCH is placed above its pubic region, its scrotum has been sliced off, both its testicles have been surgically removed, and it has undergone a total penectomy that includes all internal penile structures. After completion of its unmanning, the DOC is ordered to update the convict's public record to change its gender from male to eunuch and to change its pronouns from he/him to it. Once its sentence is completed, the convict shall be released with orders to remain nude at all times in both public and private. This court warns you Mr. Scarton, if you appear before this court again, the sentence will not be so light. With no further business before the court, court stands adjourned." David looked at Robert as if to say, "What the fuck?" Robert attempted to use a reassuring voice, "I'll see you in the back holding cell in a few minutes." David was walked back to a holding cell and kept naked. As he was being marched down the empty hallway in the back of the courtroom the guard teased David, "I bet you're missing the crowds in the front hallway. This would have been the very last time you could have shown off those two giant stones in your bag that you call your balls. Well, soon they won't be your balls anymore - they'll be in a jar on display" David was placed alone in a holding cell that had a bunk with no mattress. There was no other furniture. It didn't even have a toilet and David desperately needed to take a piss. As Robert entered the holding cell to visit his client, David was there with his head held low looking defeated. David looked up at Robert with just a hint of hope. The look on Robert's face told David to abandon any thought that he'd be able to keep his genitals. Robert was shaking his head, "A penectomy isn't part of the standard punishment for jaywalking but, legally, she can include it if you select the castration option." "My whole cock and my balls too?" "Look buddy, your cock wasn't going to be all that useful after a radical circumcision, castration, and with a giant ring in its head." Robert offered nothing in the way of encouragement for David to grasp onto. "Do you know when," David asked. "It's up to the prison warden. Overcrowding hasn't been much of a problem since the CUM Act was passed. So, they normally do the castration right away and then take their time with the hair removal. Even though there was no prison time included, they can hold you until the entire process is done." "How long," David moaned. "I've been seeing it take five to ten years. The only prison with castration facilities is run by a ball-busting warden who likes to draw out these things. She could have the doctor do all the surgical procedures at once. But, she seems to enjoy slowly emasculating a man rather than one slice and done." David couldn't speak. He'd stepped off a curb exactly half a second before the crosswalk light had changed. The AI that issued jaywalking tickets caught him and the police arrested him at work about an hour later. Two transport guards arrived at the holding cell to take David to the prison he'd stay at until the prison warden certified that he was completely unmanned. "Up out of the chair," the guard barked. Robert's job as David's attorney was over and he simply walked down the hall in the opposite direction as David was being led to the loading dock for transport. Robert and David would never meet again. Knowing his job was done, Robert smiled at the thought of David's balls displayed in a jar in the public museum where all convict's nuts were displayed. Robert decided he'd make sure to visit the museum after David's hube nuts were taken. The prison wasn't far from town and the transport arrived in about 45 minutes. Thumbprints were exchanged on the transport team's tablet and David was now officially known only by his prisoner number. A handsome guard who was about 19 years old and had a body that showed how much time he spent in the gym handed the transport driver his tablet back and looked at two of his fellow guards. "Take him to processing room four," he calmly said. Despite David having an anxiety attack from hell, for the guards, this was just another day at the office. In the processing room, David had been handcuffed to the wall facing the corner and was unable to see what was happening behind him. The door clicked loudly as it opened and the same handsome buffed guard entered. "I wanted to process you myself." The guard said in a way that made it difficult to tell if he was thinking out loud or talking to David. To be safe, David remained silent. "First, I'm going to allow you to lose those handcuffs," the guard commented as he slipped a lightweight bright blue metal collar around David's neck. "Before I uncuff you, let me warn you that his collar has a built-in shock system. The lowest setting will knock you on your ass. The highest setting will leave you in agony for a few weeks. It's just easier all around if you do exactly as you're told." Without waiting for a confirmation that he'd been understood, the guard reached around David from behind to unlock the cuffs. To get to David's wrists and the cuffs, the guard was standing behind David. The handsome stud's crotch pushed against David's naked ass. Taking longer than was required to undo the cuffs, the guard made sure his nine-inch cock rubbed David's ass crack. "I'm Mr. Tugger. Everyone calls me Tug. Of course, that's not my real name. As a matter of security, none of the prison staff use their real names. Now, turn around and face me, cunt." Being called cunt told David everything he'd need to know about the way he'd be treated while in prison and the word sent chills down his spine. David turned to look Tug in the face. Tug's face looked like it had come right off a fashion website page. Tug wore his dark black hair in a military high and tight, his eyes were a striking wolf's grey, with an aquiline nose, square jaw, and cheekbones that were placed perfectly by God himself, Tug might have been the best-looking man David had ever seen. "You can get away without calling me Sir this one time because it's the first time. When told to do something, you answer with 'Yes, Sir' or you'll be shocked on level one. Do you understand me, bitch?" Even the idea of being shocked on his neck with enough force to knock him down sounded horrible to David who quickly answered, "Yes, Sir!" Tug took his finger and put it under David's chin. Pushing David's head back so that he could see up to Tug's 6'5" height, Tug whispered, "There is nothing I can't do to you bitch. Nobody cares about you. I don't give a shit about a bitch like you and I'm the best hope you have for a delightful stay while in prison. Well, delightful might be a bit much to hope for, bitch. But, you should understand that I can make your life a living hell if you cross me. You will do everything I tell you to do. Right, bitch?" "Yes, Sir," David croaked as his body started to shake in fear. And, it happened. David started to piss onto the floor and Tug's shiny black leather shoes. Knowing David hadn't had an opportunity to use the toilet in hours, Tug expected the flow of piss and didn't move an inch until David's bladder was empty. The realization that prison would be worse than the 12th layer of hell normally caused prisoners to either lose bladder control or vomit. In a voice that would have been more appropriate in the bedroom, Tug smiled and whispered, "It's okay bitch. It happens a lot. Knowing they'll soon be a eunuch causes lots of faggots like you to piss all over the floor." David wasn't gay. Yet, since he was arrested that morning, he'd been called queer, fag, homo, bitch, and a host of other insults intended to reorient his sexuality. Continuing to hold David's chin up and looking David right in the eyes, Tug pushed the button on his radio's microphone, "Send in team yellow to processing four." A few seconds later the door clicked open and three naked prisoners came in. They each had the same kind of collar David was wearing except theirs were yellow. Tug turned David's head so he could see the three nullified prisoners standing at parade rest. All three were completely hairless except for a short mohawk of shocking yellow hair. Each had only the thinnest of scar lines between their legs where their genitals had once swung. Their nipples, septums, and ears were pierced with large anodized titanium rings that were a bright yellow color. Each man's skin was so white it looked like they'd never seen the sun in their entire lives. Above each of their empty crotches was the word EUNUCH tattooed in large bold letters. "Clean it up," Tug barked at the inmates. In a coordinated movement, all three slowly lowered to the ground. David would learn that inmates were not allowed to move quickly. The guards wanted to make sure they knew exactly what a prisoner was doing at all times and forcing inmates to move in slow motion made sure nothing unexpected happened. If an inmate moved too quickly, the collar would issue a warning shock. If the inmate didn't immediately slow down, it'd be knocked backward at setting five by the AI control system. Almost no inmates ever made the mistake of moving quickly after its first shock. The three inmates crawled to the puddle of now cold piss and began to slurp it up. They sucked up what they could and then carefully licked up every drop of David's piss. Most importantly, Tug's shoes were spotless by the time they were done cleaning the floor. In an attempt to gain approval, the inmates looked up at Tug while still on all fours. "No, leave the bitch's feet wet. It made the pissy mess, it can stand in it. Now leave you fucking cunts. I'm sure there's a guard out there that needs to piss. Go be the urinals you've been trained to be." Team Yellow then very slowly stood up and turned to leave. It was at that point that David noticed a QR code tattooed on each of the inmate's ass cheeks. It didn't take much to realize it was one there for he AI control system to keep track of inmates. "Now, bitch, I can finish your processing." Tug, reached over and picked up what looked like a piercing gun. Tug knew that it was a device used to implant an RFID chip under a prisoner's skin. However, Tug couldn't think of any reason to tell David what the device did. "Turn around and face the wall, faggot." "Yes, Sir," David firmly said as he turned. Instantly he felt Tug grab the skin between his shoulders and pull it outward. Then a sharp pain similar to getting five flu shots at once stung David's back as the RFID chip was embedded under David's skin. "Don't worry bitch. Most inmates forget it's there after a while." David wondered what it was he'd forget was there. Not sure if he should or not, David decided to be safe and said, "Yes, Sir." To show his approval, Tug reach over and lightly slapped David's ass cheek - the kind of ass slap athletes give each other on the ass when naked in the locker room. "Good bitch. I thought I might have to shock you for failing to say 'Yes, Sir.'" Tug continued David's processing with a mohawk haircut to which he applied hair dye that turned it a bright blue color. As Tug was shaving David's hair into its new style, David could see Tug's nine-inch cock harden in his guard uniform pants. Then, Tug had David lay on the table and pierced David's nipples. In each nipple was a bright blue titanium ring. David had no idea what the meaning of the bright blue color was and was smart enough not to ask. When Tug said, "Stick your tongue out," David did so immediately and then instantly remembered to say, "Yes, Sir," which sounded stupid as hell with his tongue hanging out. Tug just shrugged at how ridiculous that made David look and sound. The gun used to pierce David's tongue was larger than the nipple-piercing gun. But in one loud bang, the tongue gun pierced a hole in the tongue and placed the blue titanium bar. Tug tightened the balls on the end of the bar and then with a click locked them in place forever. "Ears next. Turn your head away from me. They both have to be done. So, just pick either side." This time the "Yes, Sir," from David was even more muffled as his now swollen tongue made speaking difficult. "Oh, shit, bitch! I forget to ice your tongue." Tug reached into the freezer and pulled out a frozen popsicle. "You'll be sucking on a frozen piss pop until your tongue isn't swollen which takes about a month for the swelling to go down and another two weeks before medical will clear you for your cock sucking duties." Earlier that day after David had showered, taken Muni downtown, and was ready for work, the idea of being told he'd soon be a cock sucker would have pissed David off. After his arrest and trial all in the morning, David realized that the prison system could make him do anything the guards wanted him to do. Then, the left ear piercing was followed by the right, Tug put a large blue ring into each of David's earlobes. "Getting close to done." "Look me in the eyes and then tilt your head all the way back." "Yes, Sir," which now sounded even more like David had a sock shoved in his mouth as his tongue was continuing to swell. Tug handed David another frozen piss pop to suck on. David didn't know if it was really frozen piss or if Tug was only messing with his head. Either way, it dulled the pain from the new hole in his tongue and David was happy for that tiny bit of relief. A clamp was placed on David's septum. Tug picked up a needle and a cork. Holding the cork on one side of the septum, he jabbed the needle through and followed it with the last bright blue ring. After it was snapped into its locked position, the piercings were done. "Most guards give their bitches shaving cream and a razor and have them shave off their own bodies. But, I like the act of beginning your unmanning myself. You'll enjoy that won't you bitch?" "Yes, Sir," David muffled. Once David was completely shaved, Tug started the laser hair removal process. "Settle in, bitch. This takes time." To David's horror, Tug started on David's beard. Realizing he'd be losing both his junk and his beard, David's eyes started to tear up. "Ahh, bitch. Don't worry, I'm tossing in the free beard removal as a bonus. I'll get to the rest of your body hair soon enough." "Yes, Sir," David barely could get the air past his tongue to form what would have sounded like "Yes, Sir" if David didn't have a giant wad of swollen tongue in his mouth. Tug handed David another frozen piss pop. Two hours passed as snap after snap of the laser hair removal wand turned on and off. Each time it was activated it felt like a rubberband was snapping David's skin. Between the pain in his nipples, ears, and tongue, the snaps of the laser wand were more annoying than painful. After hundreds of snaps and more snaps, Tug announced, "There, hair removal treatment number one is done. I'll need to do the entire body every six weeks until the hair stops growing back. Normally it takes between four to eight treatments. But, I can keep you here in prison as long as I say you need more hair removal treatments. The inmate that was sucking my cock was released yesterday and I need a new best bitch." "Yes, Sir," this time it sounded like a muffled attempt to cough up a hairball. Your EUNUCH tattoo will be put on after your nullification surgery. But, I need to tattoo your ass cheek with your QR code. Hold still, it's fast. Tug brought over the auto-tat. The QR code had to be perfect to work and the auto-tat could secure the skin and make a perfect tattoo every time. With thousands of tattoo needles built in, the entire code was done virtually instantly. David felt like his ass had just been branded. "One last thing and then processing for surgical genital nullification will be complete. Get on all fours on this pad." "Yes, Sir." Tug fixed a strap around David's waist and one strap around each leg right where the legs meet the butt. David couldn't see what was shoved up his ass. All David knew was that it felt cold and huge. "The straps will hold in the machine as it flushes out your guts completely. Remain still and the machine does all the work. Understood, bitch?" "Yes, Sir." The machine felt like a frapachinno maker had been shoved up David's asshole. Relentlessly it flushed water in, stirred it up with a sonic wave, then sucked out the water and any waste that came along with it. Time after time it squirted, spun the water around, and emptied David's guts. After 45 minutes a bell rang and the indicator said the cycle was complete. "Fuhhh, I love processing a newbie, bitch. You cannot have anything to eat until after your surgery this afternoon. The surgical team will install a feeding tube in your abdomen when they cut off your junk. It makes keeping you fed easier while your tongue gets back to normal. The food you process from the feeding tube absorbs almost completely. The only bits that aren't absorbed are water-based slime that is identical to lube. Think about how great that is bitch. Your asshole will be self-lubricating." Tug continued, "Once you're healed up, I'll be the first to shove my cock in your pie hole. I saw in your file that you're a gay virgin. I can't wait to pop your queer cherry. Exciting, right, bitch?" "Yes, Sir," David tried to say it as clearly as possible but with the frozen piss pop on his tongue it just sounded like a noise. "Once you're processed, you belong to the officer that processed you. That means that you and my nine inches of man sausage will be getting very familiar with each other. I wanted to process you because you are the only inmate ever to come in with balls bigger than mine and I wanted to get a good look at them. Once you're a eunuch, I'll have the biggest balls in the prison again. Stand up, bitch." "Yes, Sir." Tug keyed his mic and said, "Transport to processing room four." The door opened and two inmates with purple mohawks and rings appeared. They said nothing. "Take his ass to pre-op. He'll be nullified before the prison announces lights out." The two transport inmates said, "Yes, Sir," and reached over and seized David by the arms. There were no thoughts in David's head. He was broken. He thought that every bit of humanity and hope had been stripped from him. But, he'd yet to meet the surgical team. David was led to swinging doors marked "Surgical Suites". Neither transport inmate spoke to David. They waited with him until a nurse came out and took David inside. After the surgery doors were sealed shut again, one of the transport inmates looked at the other and said, "I wonder which he selected beard or balls." Answering with a wry smile, the answer was, "Does it matter? They always do both either way." With that, each of the transport inmates looked down with their perfectly smooth faces to see each other's empty groins tattooed EUNUCH. They then returned to the duty room to wait for their next assignment. Neither knew when or if they'd get out of the prison. --- End Included Text ---
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-the-military-studs/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/trying-to-impress-tommy
Date: Sat, 24 Aug 2024 14:49:35 +0100 From: Deinour Subject: Trying to impress Tommy If you enjoy these stories, please think about donating to Nifty. All characters in this story are over 18. I slipped and the moment of imbalance cost me the fight. My mistake was seized. The lad punished me. He deftly grabbed my neck into a lock and lifted me up backwards. The audience -- three of the boy's college mates in this garret room -- cheered. Then he humiliated me. He pulled down the boxing shorts I had (we both had) donned for this little display. This situation had been my attempt to impress Tommy, the beautiful young man I had been courting, and to show him and his mates that this middle aged dude (me) could still cut it grappling like I had done in college. That had been in 2000. Y2k. To me, it seems like yesterday. But my body has other `ideas'. I'm not that fit, lean young dude anymore. And this boy was showing me up in the most humiliating (and, honestly, kinda titillating) way. In front of his friends too. There I was, pink in the face and sweaty, the lad of my desire reefing me up off the carpet in a disabling headlock, my skin pressed close against the warmth of his immaculate beige pecs and washboard torso- and I was defeated. Most definitely so. And now he had dragged down my jocks. My 43year old tool hung out there, beneath my modest paunch, limp and pathetic in front of his mates faces, who responded with derisory laughter. I couldn't tell them, like I desperately wanted to right then, that that tackle had once been prime, sought after boy-meat. That twenty years ago, good money was forthcoming from photographers and older guys in general, just to see that schlong and maybe even get a whiff of the fine young arse the other side. No. And even if I could tell them, what would that do but make me look even more pathetic and humiliated before the object of my lust? What was before them now was just a slightly saggy middle-aged guys dick. The boys cheered again. The lad mercifully let me loose a moment. It was vanishingly brief. He bent me forward , my forehead touching the carpet, and gripped up my waist, pulling my ass into his groin. I felt his rock hard young dong through his shorts. What the fuck?! Was he really going to...i mean, right here right now...in front of his mates??!! "no Tommy!" I yelled (not actually resisting) "dont! Please! Not here!! Agghhh!!" But my protests were in vain. He shoved his raging young schlong right into my greying manhole and began pounding away. My face was red now as I roared in (pretended) objection. On and on -- the slapping and squelching of hot, wet flesh. Up stood the other lads and whipping out their boyos, they began jacking over my defeated, submissive head and shoulders. "Yeah man, give it to him!" they jeered "fuck, yeh! Take it bitch!!" grunted Tommy, slapping my quivering arse cheeks as he did. For my part, I got a hold of my (now blazing hard) cock and began jacking furiously. "awwhhh! Tommy boy, give it to me!!.. etc. Then, in a glorious moment and in almost perfect harmony, the boys soaked the head of the defeated and humiliated (and blissfully so) wretch before them with fountains of hot boy cream while they kissed in turn the beautiful victor and champion behind me who shot his load into me, panting in his sublime display of dominance. Comments welcome at the above email address!
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/neighborhood-fun
Date: Sat, 24 Aug 2024 16:36:02 +0200 From: Grandpa Cuckerson Subject: Neighborhood Fun WARNING. This story contains sexually explicit adult material including sexy between consenting males. If this offends you or is not allowed in your area don't read it. This is a purely fictional fantasy story. The author does not condone any illegal activities. Support nifty by donating at: https://donate.nifty.org Please send any comments, feedback, or suggestions to grandpa1957(at)gmx.com Neighborhood Fun Walking up to my house after school I started to get excited. Dad's Sheriff's department SUV was in the driveway. Almost anytime he was home this early it was for fun. I bounced up the front steps and let myself in, locking the door behind me. I hung my backpack on the row of hooks by the door and saw Dad's gun belt hanging there. That cinched it, the only time he left it out like that was when he was in a big hurry. My suspicions were confirmed as I moved down the hallway stepping over his shirt, vest, then pants. A trail of his uniform leading towards the kitchen. As I neared the door I heard the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and rhythmic grunting. I pulled my tshirt up over my head and dropped it on floor next to Dad's boxers as I stepped into the kitchen. Dad was bent over the kitchen table, his hands gripping the edge. He was wearing a leather strapped gag. I recognized it as the one with a cock shaped plug in his mouth. His eyes were half closed and he was drooling around the gag with a puddle of his spit on the table under his chest. He was making a sound between a grunt and a moan. Standing behind Dad was our neighbor Mr. Dixon. He was butt naked, and didn't miss a beat of pounding his cock into Dad's ass when I walked in. Mr. Dixon was in his early 60s, powerfully built and broad shouldered. His wide thick chest covered with hair and he had a powerful hand on each of Dad's hips. His salt and pepper beard was mostly salt the same as his hair was mostly white but there was no doubt at a glance that he was a strong virile man. "Aiden my boy" his gravelly voice gave me chills when said my name. "You're just in time" His right hand came off Dad's hip and he pointed towards my shorts making a little up and down motion with his finger. "Drop those" I didn't need to be told twice and hooked my thumbs in the waist band of my shorts making sure to also get my boxer briefs and shoved down to the floor then quickly stepped out of them, leaving me naked except for my tennis shoes. I practically jumped across the kitchen to Mr Dixon, my nearly 7 inch cock already hard by the time I covered the few feet between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned in eagerly for a kiss. His strong arm went around my waist and his big paw grabbed a hand full of my right ass cheek. I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed into mine. I could feel his beard against my face as we made out until he pulled back. "Damn you kiss good boy" he said as he took in a deep breath. I kissed down his neck to his chest, then pressed my face against his damp chest hair. He had worked up a sweat, he must have been fucking Dad for a while before I got home. His hand moved from my ass around and his big rough hand engulfed my cock as he gripped it and my balls at the same time. "You hard for me already?" I moaned into his chest. "I'm always hard for you Mr. Dixon" I purred. He had told me before I could call him Malcolm but for me it always felt more natural and hotter to call him by his full name. He made a fist around my cock and told me to pump so I started frantically working my hips. His strong rough hands felt amazing on my rock hard teen cock. I was already precumming and could feel a real cum building up. I had a pretty nice sized cock but I wasn't blessed with a lot of sexual stamina, and I had been trained to cum fast as i could. Mr Dixon never stopped fucking his big cock into Dad's ass. I looked up at him and we kissed again, deep passionate wet kissing as I thrusted my raging hard cock into his fist. Dad's rhythmic grunting had taken on more of a moaning sound over the last couple of minutes and then it started to become higher pitched as Mr Dixon's thighs slapped against his. Mr Dixon broke our kiss and let go of my cock but grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand towards it. "Take over for me boy, I'm about to make this faggot cum" He punctuated that statement with a slap onto dads ass. Mr Dixon's right hand went back to Dad's hip and he moved his other hand to the small of Dad's back, pushing him against the table. I started jerking furiously and I could already feel myself close to cumming. Mr Dixon spread his legs a little wider and lowered his hips just a bit and started to really pound his big cock into Dad's ass. The change in angle must have had the desired effect because Dad's moans turned into a constant wail of pleasure and he mumbled into the gag what I can only assume was "I'm cumming" over and over. Mr Dixon showed real exertion for the first time as he really started to slam his cock home. Dad started squealing into the gag and his cock started spurting, the edge of the table causing his cock to be aimed straight down. I could hear his cum shots splatting onto the tile floor. Dad's legs buckled, only his grip on the table kept him from falling all the way to the floor but sagging down caused Mr Dixon's cock to slide out of his ass. "Damn it bitch I didn't cum yet" Mr Dixon bellowed at Dad. His big hard cock waving in the air as he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Guess it's up to you boy" I dropped to my knees and opened wide as he put a hand on top of my head like palming a basketball. He pushed his cock into my waiting mouth. I was rewarded with a loud grunt of pleasure from Mr Dixon. "That's right boy taste your Dad's ass on my cock" I opened my throat and felt his big mushroom head push all the way down. He started pumping fast I knew he was very close so I started jerking my own cock again pushing myself towards cumming. I could hear Mr Dixon moan as his hand on my head tightened into a fist holding my hair as he shoved all the way in. I could feel my own cum boiling up in my balls I was past the point of no return and when I felt Mr Dixon's thick cock swell in my mouth I started cumming, spurt after spurt onto the floor as I could feel him pumping his cum straight down my throat. I loved sharing this moment with him I could feel myself getting lightheaded from a potent combination of lack of oxygen and having a fullbody soul shaking orgasm just from sucking Mr. Dixon's cock. I took a deep breath as his softening but still big cock slipped out of my mouth and I sank back off my knees until I was sitting on the floor. By the time I started to catch my breath and open my eyes Mr. Dixon had pulled his shorts on and a tank top that barely covered his barrel chest. He stepped over to me, leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "That was wonderful Aiden" he said softly before slipping out the backdoor to walk back to his house. I was still breathing heavy as I looked over to see Dad and gotten the gag unbuckled, he slid the cock shaped gag out of his mouth and flexed his jaw a few times, still with a dreamy look in his eyes. He went to all fours and started licking his cum off the floor then looked over and saw my cum and crawled over to lick and slurp it up too. He looked up at me as he did then came up sliding a hand behind my neck and pulling me in for a deep kiss. We swapped our cum back and forth a few times before swallowing. He got up to his feet, still a little unsteady but helped me stand up too. "Lets grab some showers and we can get supper started" He broke our embrace with a loving pat on my ass, and we both went to get cleaned up.
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-night-bus/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/fathers-duties-never-end/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/hosing-me-down
Date: Fri, 16 Aug 2024 15:12:44 +1000 From: Tony Subject: Hosing me down (Urination) Donate to the Nifty Archive and support this invaluable resource: https://donate.nifty.org/ Warning: this fiction story is about domination, mild degradation, piss-play and anal sex. -- The hook-up website I found was for bisexual folk but most of the profiles were men after other men. Some looking for romantic sex, others wanting to explore forbidden things they had fantasised about for years. There was something for everyone. I checked the profiles of the guys who had looked at my own profile in the past few days. One profile stood out to me. He was bi, in his thirties, and could host "sometimes" (whatever that meant); and he was after a man willing to be his urinal! I checked his preferred age-group expecting the usual "same age" stuff but it was wide open -- 20-80! So he was definitely worth a try. It was years since I had experienced piss-play and I felt excited by the idea of doing it again. So I messaged the guy to say I couldn't host, but any time he was able to do so I would be honoured to be his urinal and guzzle his piss down my throat. I added that I craved domination by a masculine top. I was up for some light rough treatment, mild verbal abuse, and as much piss as he might wish to give me. His pleasure was my only desire. A few hours later I saw that he had looked at my profile again so I knew he'd seen the message. But no response forthcoming. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained I told myself. More than a week went by and I'd pretty much forgotten this guy. One morning my phone let me know I had mail in the account I reserved for this sort of thing. I logged onto the site and opened the message, and found it was from this same guy. He asked if I was available to be his piss-slave that afternoon at 2pm. I replied "Sir, I will be wherever you want me to be at 2pm, ready to be hosed down and used as your personal urinal." The stud ordered me to message my phone number and told me the address would be messaged to me at 1pm. I was to bring a change of clothes in a bag and a plastic bin-bag as whatever I was wearing on arrival would end up soaked in his piss. I replied "Sir, thank you for instructing this piss-slave, I will be on time ready to submit to your dominance." There was no reply, so I got myself cleaned up and dressed in a pair of AussieBum briefs, shorts and a tee-shirt, and put a full change of clothes in a small backpack. Just on one o'clock my phone beeped and there was a text message with an address on the other side of town. The message said to text him back on arrival at the building and he would then give me the apartment number. It was only a half-hour drive so I had plenty of time, and decided to lube up inside my arse in case he wanted to take it that far. After the drive across town I located the address and parked in a visitor's space, then walked to the front door of the apartment building and messaged him to say I had arrived. I wondered if he was watching out a window and seeing me standing there. The reply a moment later gave me the apartment number, and the main door clicked open, so I headed inside to the elevator and rode up to level three. Hoping I wasn't being set up for a bashing or something worse, I knocked on the door and it opened promptly revealing a good-looking beefy guy with a trim beard, who waved me inside then closed the door. There were no introductions, he simply said "Follow me to the bathroom" and I did so. I removed my gym-shoes and socks. He told me to kneel in the shower recess, and mercifully threw a towel down to spare my knees. As I knelt he began to talk dirty. "You want me to fuckin' hose you down, don't you bitch" and I replied "Sir, you are in command of my body". He pulled his shorts down and aimed a semi-hard cock at me and after a few seconds a strong stream of piss hit my shirt. It was clear, so I knew he had bulked up on water in preparation. His stream moved up to my face and soaked my hair, then he told me to open wide and I gulped down his piss, feeling absolutely thrilled to be submitting to his dirty pleasure. But he didn't allow me to touch his cock with my mouth, much as I wanted to do so. He continued to hose me, making sure my clothes were soaked. Then told me he was going to get a beer for himself and I was to stay where I was. Then he bent over and spat in my face. "What do you say, bitch?" he demanded, and I replied "Thank you sir for allowing me to submit to you". He then told me to open my mouth and he spat into it several times, then slapped my face and said "Don't fucking move!". He returned a moment later and sat on a small stool in front of the shower, swigging on a small bottle of beer. He took his time to drink and occasionally, he leaned over and told me to open my mouth and spat into it again. "What d'ya say bitch?" he snarled at me and I responded "Your spit tastes so good sir, may I soon have more of your piss in my mouth?". He stood up and aimed his cock as my face and started hosing me down again. I opened wide and endeavoured to catch as much of his piss-flow as I could. He put the beer bottle aside and yanked my head forward and buried his cock in my mouth, still pissing, and I struggled to swallow the flow, some of it running out of my mouth. When his piss-stream stopped he began moving my head backwards and forwards on his stiffening cock and I sucked and deep-throated him as best I could. I loved the feel of his stiff meaty cock sliding into my mouth and throat; I wanted only to please this dominant stud. He kept fucking my face for a while then suddenly head-locked me hard against his crutch and I felt and smelled his spurting load of cum as it jetted into my throat. He released the pressure enough for me to get some breaths, then told me to lick his cock gently which I was more than happy to do. After a couple of minutes he again held my head in place as his stream of hot urine flooded into my mouth, and I guzzled it down thirstily till he was finished. The stud sat back on the stool and told me "I'm not finished with you yet, bitch, stay right there while I get another beer" and he spat in my face again to show me he was still in charge. When he returned I said "Please sir, my bladder is full." He replied "Just piss yourself then", and I released my sphincter and began pissing in my pants. It was soon running down my leg, a lovely warm feeling I savoured. "Take off your shorts" he demanded and I complied, tossing them onto the floor of the shower. "Now take of your undies and kneel back down", he ordered. "Now stick your undies in your mouth and suck the piss out of them". I was excited to do as I was told, and could taste a glorious mix of my piss and his as I sucked on my wet underwear. The stud took another swig of his beer then put the bottle down and took off his shorts and briefs. "Suck my dick again bitch" he grunted and I complied with delight. Soon he was rigid again and was fucking my face roughly. Then he pulled away and told me to stand up and turn around, which I did promptly but I could see a condom being slid onto his cock. He moved against me and I felt his weapon prodding at my arse, till it found the hole it wanted. I was so turned on by his dominance. His six inches entered me none too gently, but being pre-lubed made it easier. He started thrusting into me, muttering curses and groaning with desire, and eventually started slamming home hard grunting "You're gonna take my fucking load bitch" and I called out "Please breed me sir, make me your cum-dump" as he spasmed inside me filling the condom with his seed. He held me there for several minutes till his breathing returned to normal, then pulled out of my rear, ordered me to my knees, and began pissing in my face for about twenty seconds till he was drained. Then he spat in my face and told me to "Get dry and get dressed slut" which I did. He then shoved me towards the door of the apartment and told me that if I was lucky he might use me again sometime. "Thank you sir" I said as the door closed. I went home with my bag of soaked clothes and threw them in the wash, then lay on the bed jerking myself off as I replayed in my head the wonderful feeling of being used as his slave, taking his spit and piss and having his cock pound my arse. Now I'm hoping he'll use me again sometime soon.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/jock-precum-for-sale
Date: Wed, 7 Aug 2024 13:39:00 -0700 From: BB_Sean Subject: Jock Precum For Sale [This post is pure fantasy and all imaginary individuals are 18 years of age or older. If you like it, I'd love to hear from you!] I woke up this morning after the most intense wet dream of my life. I was coated in a flood of cum - so much so that I had to strip my sheets and shower afterward. Here's how the dream went: In the last few years, a growing number of aspiring athletes have been purchasing the precum of elite athletes in the hope that consuming it will transfer pro-level benefits to the buyer. Allegedly, ingesting precum boosts testosterone, helps build muscle mass, increases stamina, and is an overall mood booster. A friend of a friend named Dave said he had a laboratory that handled these extractions and he was explaining how lucrative it was. Buyers were paying $30k for 450mL, which is crazy.. The participants were primarily current olympic, college, and professional athletes. Some, like the olympians, did it for the money since they could often earn more from donating their bodily fluids than from their day jobs, winning medals, or OnlyFans - plus it was insanely pleasurable. Some pros did it just for fun. When I arrived at the lab, it was similar to a sperm bank from the outside: a clean waiting room, friendly staff, and so on. We met in the front and he explained how the process works: First, the athlete preps for their session for 8 weeks. They have a strict diet, take supplements like Pygeum bark extract and sunflower lecithin, hydrate, get great sleep, and refrain from ejaculating. 30 minutes before their appointment, they pee and immediately drink a liter of water which helps boost production. They're given 60 mg of Cialis so they can last the full session, which usually takes about an hour. The athletes enter the extraction room where they disrobe and recline face-forward on what looks like a massage chair that you might find at an airport. The temp in the room is warm - about 80 degrees F. The main tools for the job are an anal probe and an extraction sleeve. The probe is especially designed to record and reproduce personalized vibrations and electric pulses to stimulate the prostate into releasing the maximum amount of precum possible. The probe has sensors that read the exact timing of the athlete's body's internal contractions at the height of arousal. Once the probe has the athlete's exact prostate sequence, it mimics the pattern over and over again - preventing the athlete's body from stopping precum production. It takes about five minutes for the probe to capture the sequence, and then a green light signals that the process is ready to begin. Before the probe light turns green, the athlete is given a rubber bit to clamp down on, much like a horse. Once the process starts, the anal orgasms can be so intense that the jock bites down on the bit and sometimes starts drooling (this is totally normal). His arms and legs are comfortably restrained. When the light turns green, the jock's back muscles contract like he's doing a lat pull-down, his abs tighten like he's in a crunch, and his hips thrust forward - pushing his cock further into the extraction sleeve. The vibrations and electric pulses start, causing a "flow" sequence where his asshole contracts around the probe as if to pull it deep inside him. This pull is followed by pulses that work the prostate in the exact way his and only his body would want. Then his PC muscles contract causing the prostate to release a flood of precum toward his fat cock. His pulsing taint muscles tighten, firing a torrent of precum into the sleeve and later the collection receptacle. Dave offered to take me inside to watch a few live extractions. The first athlete was a ripped gymnast who was about to get started. He had just been lubed up and the probe was trying to find his sequence. You could see that the gymnast was getting turned on: he was sweating, biting on the bit, and his whole body was contorting in pleasure. "Watch his taint when the light turns on." And sure enough - just as he said - you could see every muscle in the gymnast's massive back tense up. His abs flexed intensely and he shoved his 8" cock deeper in the sleeve. The bit muffled the sounds of pleasure as his body trembled. Every 10 seconds, his taint spasmed and a huge rope of precum flowed into the receptacle. Dave said, "it's crazy to me how these guys are pure muscle everywhere: even their taints are incredibly strong. Look - his taint is in overdrive, trying to push every ounce of precum out of his body - and the probe won't allow him to stop. "An average guy produces around 5mL of cum in a typical cum load, plus or minus. Through this process, we can extract 150 mL of pure precum in a session, and we can do 3 sessions per athlete per day. 450 mL is about 2 cups for those who are counting. Then they have to wait another 8 weeks before the next session." "Let's keep going. Some guys are just built different --" as we walked to the next room. "Alex here plays water polo. He's 6'4", 260 lbs., so we call him and athletes like him `bulls'. A bull can produce almost 600mL a day, so we try to recruit as many as we can. Football players, track and field stars, rugby studs - any big boys we can find." Alex's light turned green and we watched with awe as he bucked. His flow looked almost like piss, but it came in thick, clear, viscous pulses instead of flowing continuously. "Alex will earn about $10k from this sample. Look at his legs shaking and his eyes rolling back. Check out his 10.5" cock throbbing in the sleeve. His dick is so swollen that his slit is wide open, trying to let it all out. His huge balls keep pumping as hard as they can. He's a fucking specimen." "We have to stop at about 150 mL so they have time to recover. I'd show you more but we have to stop for today - unless you want to give it a try." I opened my eyes and rolled over in my bed, absolutely covered in cum. It wasn't 200 mL, but it was a flood for sure.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/undercover
Date: Mon, 2 Sep 2024 23:59:13 -0700 From: GayFan Boy <[email protected]> Subject: Undercover 1 This is fanfiction based on the artist, Priapus of Milet. His works can be found here... http://telemachus12.com/guest_priapusofmilet.html?page=20240831 "Not good!" the spy thought immediately as the first of several fists came flying in his direction. Dodge! Kick! Pivot! There had been three of them on the other side of the door! Punch! Grab! Throw! How could he not have heard them! Twist! Flip! Smash! The door! It must have been soundproofed! Leap! Dart! Duck! And now it was too late! Struggle! Squirm! Gasp! He was now caught in their grasp! --- The three men had all been larger than him. Larger and stronger. More goons than guards, the fight had been ended quickly by their dominating strength. "Not good!" the spy thought again as the hulking brutes bound him like nothing more than an animal. How could he have been so careless? So foolish! Everyone in his line of work, knew the price of failure. Most commonly, several small pieces of metal, inserted into the back of the skull, at extremely high velocity. Followed by a unceremonious castoff into a nearby river, lake, or shallow ditch. Was this too to be his fate? The spies mind grew frantic as he searched for a way to escape, only to find none, over and over again. "I don't remember ordering in, do you Gents?" laughed one of the goons as he hogtied the spy's arms behind him. "Who can turn down a free bitch, though?" chuckled the other, his deep voice echoing from within his broad hairy frame. "What do you guys say, let's show this idiot exactly whom he has messed with!" said the third as he grabbed the spys chin to stare down the man's trembling eyes, before they were covered by a thick, black blindfold. "You won't get away with this!" called out the spy as he felt their hands start to explore his smooth, firm body underneath his clothes. "They are already sending someone to rescue me!" "And do you know what they'll find when they get here?" taunted one of the goons, as he twerked both the spy's nipples so hard the man grunted in unfamiliar pain. "Nothing but a converted sex pig, begging to take more of our cocks into any hole it can get!" The man then slapped the spy's ass forcefully, making the pale orbs jiggle from the impact with the brute's rough callused hands. "They'll probably just fuck you themselves, before leaving you here with us, to be screwed by an endless amount more," continued a different one. "I'm already hard thinking of it," said another as he ground his tented crotch against his captive's muscled leg. Just then however, a voice boomed over the intercom. "Well done in apprehending our guest, Gentlemen," one of their bosses spoke in a clear authoritarian manner. "You shall be rewarded for your efforts to be sure." "Thank you, Sir!" all three called out in unison to the mysterious voice, leaving the blond hostage to only quake in fear. The men he had been sent to investigate were well known to be ruthless beyond words. And one of them was here! In this building! Not good! Not good at all! "Our council this evening has ended a bit early it seems, Gentlemen, and the unanimous vote appears to be that we continue our session with a bit of entertainment. Would you be so kind as to bring our guest to the council suite upstairs to continue your... plans." "Yes, Sir! Right away Sir!" all three goons said again to the blinking camera in the upper corner of the room, before the light switched off and went dead again. The manly beasts laughed once more. "You're really in for it now bitch!" "The Bosses tastes are insatiable," sighed another in awe of his superiors. "They won't ever stop until someone they've taken interest in is truly wrecked." "I cant wait to see what they do that pretty body of yours," said the third as they began to march their naked bound captive to the upper floors of their secret headquarters. Goosebumps covered the spy's clammy wet skin, as unfamiliar terror arced up his spine. This couldn't be happening! He was a man! A hero! A soldier! And now he was about to become nothing more than a bitch! "Don't do this! Please! I'll do anything!" begged the captive man as he was forcefully shoved from room to room in the complete darkness of the blindfold. "Yes, you will," said the powerfully deep voice from the intercom, only now only a few feet away. The goons had finally arrived at their destination, the elite ruling members of ther organization's council chambers. "Take him to the center of the room!" the voice once again commanded. "Destroy him for our pleasure!" "Noo!" cried out the spy. "You can't do this!" The man whimpered as he felt his arms and legs chained to the central dais in what must have been in full view of the ruling council. "I beg you! Don't do..." but his pleas were cut short by a thick black dildo being shoved down his throat in one brutal thrust. The man's eyes bulged from their sockets underneath the blindfold as the rubber cock slid down his esophagus! "Silent bitch! The only thing your mouth is now good for is to pleasure the better men you have so unrightfully offended!" Slobber gushed from the spy's lips as he struggled to breathe past the thick black phallus wedged between them! He had never swallowed anything close to resembling a cock before, and this would be the just first of many to breach his most forbidden sanctums! His life as the secret society's newest bound sex slave had just begun! The spy gagged at both the thought and the rubber dildo as it was forcefully shoved in and out of his throat, widening the passage for the more fleshy twins of it that would follow! "I bet you thought this could never happen!" continued the loud voice of one of their leaders. "That you were some hero that would never fail! Never fall!" The man's cold words chilled the spy to his core! They were so true! "But here you now are, naked and chained, sucking on a rubber cock for no other reason than it gives us pleasure!" "There you go now, bitch boy. Swallow it down deeper," said one of the now naked goons as he slowly shoved the length of the black phallus ever further down the man's esophagus. "I want you to feel its head in your stomach, before you feel it there from the other side!" The man's laughter shattered the spy's mind as the spit soaked dildo sank ever further down his gullet! "Can you feel it inside you, slave?" yelled out the leader. "Not just the cock. But your desire to give up! To give in!" The spy whined as his mind tried to fight what was happening to his body. The overwhelming call of sex was dimming his senses! But this was sex with men! Sex with his sworn enemies! He could not be into it! He had to fight it! But as the huge muscled goon's free hand explored the spy's smooth naked frame, while the other kept the dildo firmly planted down his ever widening throat, an unwanted erection grew between the man's chained legs. The entire council room echoed with the sounds of his enemies' laughter. "You see, slave. You were always meant for this in the end! Your body knows it to be true!" The spy's moans of protest reverberated through the rubber dildo as his own rather small cock, grew painfully hard beneath him, never once yet to be touched. "I think our new whore should experience release in this state, don't you think Gentlemen?" ordered the leader before one of the goon's grabbed hold of the spy's thin cock to jerk it roughly in his palm. Sparks erupted inside the spy's mind as his brain became overloaded in sensation and shame! Somehow he was still turned on! And now with his cock was being jerked, while his mouth was still plugged with the rubber phallus, his body grew hot with need! His smooth blonde body started to tremble as the horrible orgasm approached, and his whines became ever louder, only to be met by further laughter. Until finally, in several thick spurts of sticky man goo, the spy unloaded the contents of his quivering ballsack onto the leather dais beneath him. Squirt after horrible soul breaking squirt until at last he was empty. Tears streamed down the spy's handsome face as shame washed over his being. What had he allowed himself to do!? To become!? His pale body turned red all over as applause thundered through the room at his debasement. The dildo was soon removed from its home lodged down his throat, and his face smashed into the sticky mess he had just made himself. "Clean up your pathetic dribble, bitch!" spat one of the goons, and the spy, too tired and bewildered from his ordeal, meakly complied. Soon the poor man's cheeks and chin were glistening with his own jizz, as he tasted his own semen for the first time. The defeated spy was horrified that he was even still hard as he swallowed it down! Not only hard, but already nearly on the verge of release again! What a failure he had become! More tears. More twitches from his rock hard pencil dick. They fed off each other in a sick cycle destined to doom the man to his primal urges. The thoughts of his own debasement were however purged from the spy's mind by searing hot pain, as once again the black dildo entered him, only this time from behind! "AAAAA!" the man screamed in blinding pain! In one powerful thrust his rectum had been plowed asunder, never again to be the the tight virgin hole of a true man! "Shut the cunt up!" bellowed one of the council members, before a second goon force fed the spy his thick manly cock, all the way to its hilt. With a rubber cock up his ass, and a fleshy one down his throat, the spy was once again forced into a sexual tailspin, far from his ability to control. Pain! Humping! Thrusting! The balls of his frontal assailant slapped his chin as the larger man's hungry cock pistoned between his drooling lips. The taste of the man's precum wetted his tongue and overwhelmed his brain in horrific shame! Another man's dick was in his mouth, taking pleasure from his throat! He didn't want to be their bitch! He didn't want to be their cumdump! The spy knew he was straight! But somehow his twitching needle dick was still hard and begging for more! More tears! More cocksnot belching from his fail of a phallus! All despite the blistering pain soaring from his back end! The sensation of his anus being hollowed open burned itself into the man's brain, making it known that he would forever be their cunt bitch. He groaned! He sobbed! He grunted! Soon the rubber cock burying itself inside his wrecked rectum was replaced by a real one, hot and slimey, and just as hungry as the one in his mouth. The fleshy spears decimated his holes with their pounding, their veiny girths sliding in and out of him in such steady beats, that they hypnotised the poor man with their incessant rhythm. The universe had receded to nothing more than pounding, pistoning cocks. His hole soon became numb to the pain, and eventually it too began to thrum with need, betraying him just as his pathetic cock had done before. All for the pleasure of the men he had come here to thwart! Was their leader correct? Was this truly his destiny? To be nothing but a cum sloppy cunt whore? He groaned at the wonderful soul wrecking humiliation, and somehow wanted it to occur. The spy stopped fighting what was happening to him now, as his mind swam in a haze of greasy thrusting cocks, his blind and bound body plundered for all it was worth. Suck! Slurp! Clench! Whine! How long he was fucked for their viewing pleasure, he would never know. The endless line of cocks would seemingly never end for the rest of the spy's long pathetic life. Eventually his body was wetted by the cum of the ruling members' orgasms whom had approached their defeated captive to jerk off over his bound body. Their slimey loads were horribly sensually massaged into his corded muscles, until the lithe spy was glistening in the cum of the superior men whom had defeated him. The poor soldier could not imagine being more destroyed as a man. And he wanted it to be so. He wanted to feel the intense erotic shame such humiliation blossomed inside of him. There was nothing more than that now. Nothing but to give in to his desires of his own complete and total debasement. The goons whom had captured him, eventually erupted their thick man goo inside of his holes, seeding his orifices with their spunk. The mucled henchmen's loads were so massive in fact that it shamed the spy even further. As he nearly drowned in their semen, the defeated soldier knew that these must truly be real men, and the pathetic cocksnot that dribbled from his microdick was yet just another sign that this was wear he truly belonged. As his stomach bulged from the cum being dumped inside it, his own miniscule dick spat out his useless seed once more, to dry on the dais in front of them all. The spy was now no more. In the heroic man's place was now only a willing sex slave, hungry to be fucked once more. -The End
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-prince-and-his-double
Date: Mon, 5 Aug 2024 00:40:21 +0000 From: Master Gilbert Subject: The Prince and his Double All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. This work was inspired by the movie, The Devil's Double. Your donations make Nifty Archives possible. Keep this site running with your support: www.donate.nifty.org The Prince and his Double... Chapter 1, Nim Seydi (Yes Sir) My father was a trades man. He was proud, stoic, and stern. All the men in our family are expected to join the King's Army at 18. We are not allowed girlfriends while in school. "This time in your life is for study." My father would always say. That is not to say we don't have sex. In fact, at 16 my father took me with him on a buying trip and while we were staying in Dubai, he took me to my first brothel. He told me to let the woman do all the work and to remember that I am a man and only my pleasure is important. Once I was back home, my older brothers would take me with them to parties or bars and there they would often pick up women to take back to the family compound and fuck. A lot of times it would be the four of us (I am the fourth of six sons, three older and two younger, no sisters.) taking turns on one or two women. My brothers would always tease me I wasn't fucking the whore hard enough, or I was letting my feelings get in the way of a good fuck. I didn't really care because in the end, I was fucking for me, not them. I remember this one party after Amir, my oldest brother, came home from his army tour. The four of us went out to a bar. Amir was drinking a lot and smoking some cigars that father gave him as a gift for completing his tour and upholding the family honor. Amir wouldn't let any of us have a cigar, so we sat around smoking the hookah and watching him as he picked out the woman he wanted. Amir was like a hunter. He picked this woman with long black hair and a really tight gold dress. We all knew she was a prostitute but who cared. We had money and Amir was here to celebrate. He took her back to the compound and we all sat backed and watched as he shoved his cock into her mouth and then leaned back with his cigar and face fucked her. She was gagging and crying, and he never stopped. Amir slid his hand under her dress and then turned her around, so she was facing us and started fucking her without even taking her dress off. He had hands on both sides of her hips, pulling her down forcibly on his cock as he leaned back on the lounge chair. He was the picture of what father said a true son of Allah should be. But this story isn't about Amir. It's not about my father, or my brothers, Nasir and Mohammed. This story actually starts after I joined the King's Army. This story is about me, Abdulbari. My training didn't take that long. After only about 4 months, I was stationed at a fort just outside Bagdad. It was a special assignment, and all the other members of my unit came from the bigger, more wealthier families. We wore the classiest uniforms and were mainly there for royal duties. That meant that when we weren't on duty, we were in the city partying. Being the sons of wealthy families, we knew where all the best bars were, nightclubs, and brothels. To make matters even better, we would go out in uniform which meant no one bothered us. Even the local police wouldn't mess with us. There were a few things we couldn't do, mainly drugs, but the rest was fair game. It was while I was out with my unit one night at a local night club that I met the prince. I was getting a lap dance, smoking a cigar, and drinking whiskey when he came up next to me and sat down. I should have stood up, but I was too drunk, and my cock was buried in a whore's cunt. "You look like you're having fun brother." The prince said as he sat down and pointed at his crotch. A whore was on her knees sucking his cock before he could even get his cigar lit. "I'm sorry your highness?" I questioned. He did a double take, then laughed. "No, it's me that should apologize. I thought you were my older brother." I didn't know what to say and so he and I sat there in silence while we both had whores on our cocks. After my unit and I left the brothel, all we could talk about was the prince and him thinking I was his brother, the crown prince. I kept getting my back slapped and the guys kept asking me questions about what the prince was like. I couldn't really say, we didn't really talk. It was a remarkable story, and I was telling it for weeks. Then one day I was called into the commander's office. I made sure my uniform was crisp and shoes spotless before knocking on his door. Once I entered, I stopped in front of his desk and saluted waiting for him to look up and acknowledge me. After being saluted back, I relaxed a little and noticed that there were a few other men in the room. All dressed in expense suits, wearing expensive watches and jewelry, they were obviously well-connected men. "Abdulbari, these men are here to ask you a few questions." My commander said without looking up from his paperwork. The men asked me about my family, about my father, and about how strongly I felt about duty. The questions were direct and made me uneasy. But I did my best to answer them. After the men left, I asked my commander what this was all about. "You are being considered for a special assignment as a Palace Guard. It's a great honor." He said very dryly. About three days later, my father came to see me. Now that might not be strange to some, but my father never visited any of my brothers when they were in the King's Army. He was a busy man. He had businesses to run and deals to broker. But he came to see me. "You are going to bring great honor to us son," he started. "The King sent me a letter to tell me that he was taking you for the Palace Guard and that you will become one of his Household." My dad smiled. He left later after having presented me with a family ring, box of Cuban cigars, and a very nice bottle of American whiskey. These were the same gifts he gave each of my brothers after they completed their military service. But father gave them to me now, during my service. I was so proud. That next day, I reported to the palace with my gear and was escorted directly to the commander of the Household Guard. From there I was taken to the barracks that were located under the main building. My new uniform was already waiting for me, and an officer was as well. It was this officer's job to orientate me to my new duties and responsibilities. He went through guard duty schedules, daily routines, and training objectives. He was talking extremely fast, and I was glad when he handed me a printout with everything he was talking about. Just then the doors opened, and the rest of my unit came in and surrounded me. "He looks just like him" I heard one of the guys say as I was being greeted by each of them. Palace life isn't easy. We are up early. Guard Duties are around the clock. Sometimes we are out at training for twelve hours, then we must get ready for a 6-hour guard duty. The physical training is extensive. We must stay in perfect shape because we are seen in the palace. Almost a month into my new post, I was finally presented to the King. All Palace Guards are presented, and we are expected to kneel and kiss the Ring of State. Then we are to stand and salute until the King salutes back. After my presentation, I was taken into a room off the throne room and told to wait. His Majesty, the Crown Prince, and a few other men came in and I was told to stand at attention. I was looked at and inspected and I just assumed this was all part of the assignment. That was until I heard the King say, "He will be perfect." Everyone left except one man, he stayed behind and after the door closed finally spoke. "You are Abdulbari?" he asked. "I am" I replied. "You have been selected for a special duty. Your family has been told and as of today, Abdulbari is dead." He started. "From now on, you will simply be known as Ahmad. You are to become the Crown Prince's double. You will be his bodyguard and stand in. When in public, you will keep your face covered when accompanying the Crown Prince. The public should never know of your existence. You do not exist. You will perform royal duties as needed and assist the Crown Prince in carrying out his duties. To that end, you will be expected to serve the Crown Prince and Royal Family until such time as it becomes impossible or unnecessary." Before I could speak, I felt a sharp pain and passed out. I woke up with no idea of time or place. I was in a hospital room. My face was wrapped in bandages, and I was sore all over. I couldn't move, but I wasn't restrained, it must have been some kind of drug in my IV. I couldn't see much but the hospital room was better than any hotel room I had ever seen. It was a room fit for a prince. Shortly after coming too, the man that had read me my duties and responsibilities came into the room. "Do you remember me?" he asked. I nodded. "I am the Chief of Security for his Majesty the King. It is my duty to ensure you are professionally trained to become the Crown Prince for public appearances, and that you understand your duties when living in the palace. You will be treated very well by the household staff. You will have duties to perform, but those will not interfere with your primary duty, serving the Crown Prince. You will live in an apartment with a private door into the Crown Prince's Suite. You will be on call at all times of the day and night. And when the Crown Prince wishes to go into public and have you accompany him, you will make sure your face is covered at all times." He paused for a breath. He spoke in a very authoritative manner. There was never any question, he meant every word. All I could do was nod between statements. "You parents were notified of your death in a training accident and received a very generous bereavement payment and note from His Majesty the King." Again, I nodded wondering if they would really care being a middle son. "Do you have any questions?" he asked and paused, looking at me. I tried to talk but my mouth was really dry, so I shook my head. "One of the procedures that was done to help you look more like the Crown Prince was to have all your teeth pulled and dentures, identical to the Crown Prince, made for you to wear." The man pointed to a box next to the bed and my tongue immediately darted along my gums and confirmed the missing teeth. "Minor plastic surgery was done to make your face and body more like the Crown Prince. Most notably, several scars were duplicated and a small birthmark on your thigh. The Crown Prince was also overly critical of your penis, so it has been pierced and locked into a chastity devise." I was just starting to be able to move and I did my best to feel my cock, but all I could feel was a cold metal cage. "The Crown Prince wanted me to remind you that you serve at his pleasure and as his double and as such, the royal family can not tolerate you fathering any children. To that end, the Crown Prince thought it was more merciful to allow you to keep your penis and cage it." The man had a very dissatisfied look on his face. "I recommended removing your cock and balls." He added. "You will be allowed another week here in the royal hospital, but your face will stay bandaged until you are brought to the palace. At that time, there will be a trainer there to help you learn to walk and talk like the Crown Prince as well as techniques on service and serving the Crown Prince." "Any questions?" the man asked again, and I croaked a raspy no. He turned, and left and I passed out again, more from the amount of information and drastic changes than from the drugs. The next week went by fast. Every day I felt better, and I was treated very well with tasty food and attentive nurses. A woman came in and manicured my nails one day. She was beautiful and when I started to get a little aroused, I was quickly reminded of the chastity cage and my cock hurt horribly. At the end of the week, I was given civilian clothing to put on and two uniformed palace guards escorted me, with my face still covered, back to the palace. Once there I was brought into the suite for the Crown Prince and told to kneel. After a few minutes, the Crown Prince Mohammad came into the room in a robe over his swimsuit with a cigar in his hand. He flopped down on the couch and motioned with his hand causing one of the guards behind me to remove the face covering. Prince Mohammad stood up and walked around me. He motioned again and the guard told me to remove my shirt, so I did. The prince traced the newly created scars on my shoulder and back. Then he finally spoke, "Stand up slave." I was shocked to be called slave. But I knew to follow his commands and I quickly stood up. "Remove your pants." He spoke again. I was ashamed but I did it quickly. The prince again walked around me but this time he pointed at the chastity cage and laughed. "You will never sire children now slave." He added through his laughter. "Open your mouth" the prince commanded. I opened my mouth and stood there. The prince looked making me smile and grin before reaching into my mouth and removing the dentures. After laughing and showing them to the guards that were there behind me, the prince put his fingers into my mouth, feeling my gums. I felt extremely uncomfortable and pulled away from the prince. The prince only had to look, and the guards grabbed me by the upper arms and bent me over the coffee table. Then one of the guards removed his leather belt and handed it to the prince. Putting his cigar in his mouth, he took the belt and brought it down across my ass. "You are my slave." the prince said, as he swung again causing me to cry out. "You will never pull away from me or deny me anything I want." Swinging again with the belt. Then I felt the stinging. The prince had put his cigar to my butt cheek and burned me. The prince threw the belt down and walked across the room puffing his cigar back to life. Once he was gone, the guards picked me up and carried me to a door that looked like a full-sized mirror. Once through the door, I could see this was my apartment. But that was a loose term. My apartment looked like a room I once saw at the brothel. It was filled with toys, sex furniture, a small prison cell, and in the second room was a large bed with sheets that were black and shiny, not like cloth, but what I assumed was leather. The guards put me into the cell and locked the door. Inside the cell was a single cot, a metal toilet and sink combo, and nothing else. "The trainer will be here in about an hour." The guard said as he left the room. All I could do was look at the room, the cell, myself and wonder what I had agreed to. This was not what I thought it would be. Please direct any comments or ideas for this story to [email protected] If you are enjoying this story, also check out the following titles: Nifty Archive: a-fathers-duty Nifty Archive: creating-a-cigar-dom Nifty Archive: my-revenge-on-mike Nifty Archive: biker-bar-toilet nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/corporate-slavery Nifty Archive: cigar-boy Nifty Archive: rugby-boy-matt
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/from-brother-to-slave/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/what-a-king-to-a-clergyman
Date: Sun, 28 Jul 2024 10:52:07 +0800 From: PunkPony Subject: What's A King to A Clergyman-01 copyright 2024 by PunkPony, all rights reserved. This story takes place in a theocratic dystopian world where the Pope and the Church hold unparalleled power over all secular rulers, including kings and emperors. This supremacy is based on the Church's doctrine, which declares that the Pope and his clergy are the sole representatives of God on Earth. The hierarchy and power structure are heavily skewed in favor of the Church, reducing secular rulers to a status of subservience and humility. The protagonist, Alexander, is the crown prince of a kingdom called Argon. He was brought up and educated in the Church's monastery school like all other members of royalty in this world. Chapter One: Lessons in the Monastery Alexander Fenrich saw his father, King Richard Fenrich of the Argon Kingdom, only once a year on the Day of Saint Peter, when the King made his traditional visit to the church school. Alexander had spent his life not within the walls of the royal palace of Argon, but within the even more formidable confines of the Church's monastery school. Every day, under the watchful gaze of monks and teachers, he studied history, religion, and doctrine. It was a rigorous, unyielding curriculum designed to instill in him an unwavering sense of devotion and subservience to the Church. In the hallowed silence of the monastery's library, he pored over ancient religious texts, tracing the beautifully illuminated scriptures with careful fingers. He learned of God's infinite wisdom and power, of His divine representatives on Earth -- the Pope and the Church. Lessons on the authority of the Church were interwoven throughout his education, the phrase "Pope and the Church are the sole representatives of GOD on Earth" becoming as familiar as his own name. Outside the library, he attended lectures where elder monks spoke passionately about the Church's supremacy. "What are kings and emperors to GOD?" one would often ask rhetorically. "The lowliest slaves, the humblest servants," Alexander would answer, reciting the catechism drilled into him since infancy. The school was austere, its tranquility a stark contrast to the fleeting glimpses Alexander had of the bustling royal palace life. Within the monastery walls, Alexander's life was regulated by the rhythm of prayers and study. The morning's stillness was broken by the sonorous tolling of bells, calling him to Matins. The day would then unfold with lectures, private study, meals in silence, recreation in the cloistered gardens, and more prayers. Vespers in the evening led to the grand silence of night, observed till the bells rang again the next day. Despite the stern discipline, the monastery was not without warmth. The monks, though strict, were not cruel. They understood their duty -- to shape this prince into a servant of God and the Church. And Alexander, for his part, was a diligent student. He held no resentment for the strict regime, accepting it as his due and his path. Though there were occasional bouts of homesickness, longing for a father he barely knew, the sense of purpose instilled in him by the Church provided some solace. Alexander knew his future was not his own. His path was not one of personal ambition but of service. He was to be a king, yes, but more importantly, he was to be a servant of God and the Church, a steward of their power on Earth. He knew not yet what challenges the future would bring, but he felt prepared. The monastery school was his crucible, its rigid discipline and rigorous studies shaping him into the servant he was destined to be. His faith was his anchor, the unyielding tenets of the Church his guiding light. He was Alexander Fenrich, the prince of Argon, but above all, he was a humble servant of God and the Church. And for now, that was enough. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two: The Crown Prince of Argon It was the twenty-fifth year of Alexander Fenrich's life, a year that had brought with it great change. Having completed his monastic education, he had been chosen by the Holy Church to be the crown prince of Argon, a decision met with jubilation throughout the kingdom. It was a momentous occasion, marking the culmination of years of stringent education and discipline. Yet for Alexander, it was only the beginning. He returned to Argon, greeted not by the austere stone walls of the monastery school but the magnificent turrets of his king father's royal palace. And yet, it was not within the royal palace that he was to reside. King Richard Fenrich, ever dutiful to the edicts of the Church, had arranged for Alexander to live in a nearby palace. It was here that his new life began, a life no longer dictated by the rhythm of the monastery bells but the exigencies of his future role. Alexander's new home was an edifice of grandeur, a sprawling complex of white stone that shimmered under the sun. Its high turrets looked out over rolling meadows, while its lush gardens provided an oasis of tranquillity amid the challenges of his newfound position. This palace was to be his sanctuary and his classroom. His father, ever the conscientious king, spared no expense in ensuring Alexander received the best education. Tutors of the highest calibre were sought from across the kingdom and beyond. These men were masters in their respective fields, armed with knowledge on politics, economics, military strategy, and governance. Alexander's days were no longer filled with scripture and prayer, but with books on policy and strategy, lectures on economic theory, and practical lessons in governance. His teachers, many of them former advisors to his father, taught him about diplomatic relations, political manoeuvring, and military strategy. The vast knowledge he had of religion and doctrine now found its practical application in these new studies. One of his tutors, Sir Reginald, a decorated military veteran, taught him about military strategy, about reading maps, understanding the logistics of supplying an army, the nuances of warfare and the importance of diplomacy in avoiding it. Alexander would listen, rapt, as Sir Reginald recounted his experiences, learning not just the theory but also the brutal realities of warfare. From Lord William, a shrewd economist, he learned about trade, about the ebb and flow of supply and demand, about national and international economies. Hours were spent over books and scrolls, understanding trade agreements, tariffs, taxes, and the subtle dance of sustaining a kingdom's economy. And then there was Master Theodore, an advisor to his father, who held knowledge on the intricacies of governance. He taught Alexander about law, about dealing with the nobility, about the responsibilities of a king to his subjects and the balancing act of maintaining harmony in a kingdom. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The routine was relentless, the pressure to learn and understand immense. But Alexander, with the discipline instilled in him by the monastery, rose to the challenge. His was a life of service, and this was his duty. Alexander's only respite came when he stepped away from his books and lessons and strolled in the palace gardens. Here, he often found himself looking up at the night sky, the constellations a comforting constant in a world that was rapidly changing. Though his life had shifted dramatically, his conviction remained unswerving. He was a servant of God and the Church, soon to be the king of Argon, a steward of the Church's authority. In these quiet moments, he found the strength to continue, reminded of his purpose, of his duty. His journey was far from over. It was merely a new chapter, one that would prepare him for the trials and tribulations of kingship. As crown prince, he stood on the precipice of a future full of uncertainty, challenges, and responsibility. But for Alexander, his faith, his duty to his kingdom, and his unwavering determination were a beacon in the face of it all. For he was not just Alexander Fenrich, a prince of Argon; he was Alexander, a servant of God and the Church, ready to face whatever lay ahead. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Three: The King and the Bishop Alexander Fenrich, the newly appointed crown prince, found himself in the unique position of living under the shadow of a father he barely knew. He resided not in the royal palace of King Richard Fenrich, his father, but in a nearby palace, where he was beginning his lessons on how to rule Argon. Despite the physical proximity, his father remained a figure of distant majesty, a puzzle Alexander was yet to piece together. King Richard Fenrich was an enigma to his son. Alexander knew him more from the adoring murmurings of the people and the reverential descriptions of his tutors than from personal experience. His father was a man of great stature and dignity, a king who ruled his realm with justice and diligence. Tales of King Richard's visage had been passed onto Alexander -- the handsome and noble face, the high forehead and firm chin that was often the subject of painters' portraits, the earthy black eyes, and the dark, neatly trimmed hair. Yet, it was the descriptions of Richard's character that truly painted a picture of the man he was. Richard was a king of virtue and honor, a man who commanded respect and admiration, not by fear, but by his just and diligent rule. Despite the curiosity Alexander held for his father, one thing was abundantly clear -- King Richard was deeply devoted to God and the Church. Every day, without fail, the king would make his way to the white palace atop the small hill near his residence. This palace was the dwelling of the Grand Bishop of Argon, Bishop Benedictus, a man directly appointed by the Pope and the Church. The white palace was a sacred place, off-limits to all but the king, the bishop, and a select few clergymen. Here, his father would pray and confess, displaying a level of devotion and humility that Alexander had learned to admire. Although he wasn't allowed to enter the place, Alexander often found himself observing the palace from afar, wondering what transpired within its hallowed walls. Bishop Benedictus was another influential figure in Alexander's life. Even though Alexander had limited interactions with the Bishop, he was acutely aware of the power and influence the man held. His father's daily visits, the respect and reverence with which people spoke of the Bishop, it all pointed to the undeniable power of the Church. Every evening, Alexander would watch from his window as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the land. He would see the silhouette of his father making the familiar trek up the hill to the white palace, a daily testament to his unyielding devotion to the Church. In those moments, Alexander felt a profound sense of respect for his father, not just as a king, but as a man of unwavering faith. As days turned into weeks, Alexander found his own faith deepening, not just in God and the Church, but in his father. He realized that one day, he too would bear the weight of the crown, face the scrutiny of the Church, and guide Argon towards prosperity. And when that day came, he hoped to do it with the same dignity and devotion that his father displayed. Despite the distance, he was learning from King Richard, not through shared words but observed actions, understanding that true devotion lay not just in grand gestures but in the constancy of faith. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Four: The Stolen Watch Prince Alexander Fenrich was not a man easily perturbed, but on this particular morning, something had managed to disrupt his usually calm demeanor. His watch, a finely crafted piece of precision and elegance, was missing. He questioned his servants and staff, but everyone claimed ignorance about its whereabouts. Determined to find his watch, he ordered the palace butler, a stern and efficient man named Mr. Whitaker, to search the servants' quarters. An hour passed before Mr. Whitaker returned, his expression grave. In his hand, he held the prince's missing watch, found in a small wooden box beneath the bed of a footman named Thomas. Thomas was summoned before the prince. A young man barely out of his teens, he stood nervously before Alexander, vehemently denying any wrongdoing. But he had no explanation for why the watch had been found in his quarters. Alexander observed the young footman, seeing fear and confusion in his eyes but no clear sign of deceit. Yet, the evidence was undeniable. The prince, although reluctant, had to maintain the integrity of the palace. He gave a solemn order to the royal guard, "Administer the prescribed punishment. One hundred strokes." Thomas was led away, his pleas of innocence fading as he was taken to the courtyard. A hush fell over the palace as servants and staff braced for the spectacle to come. In this world of absolute theocracy, even a petty crime was considered a sin, and the punishment, a penance. In the courtyard, Thomas was made to bare his back and buttocks, a gesture of humility before the impending punishment. The guard, a man of imposing stature, readied the cane, its ominous shadow falling across the courtyard. With each stroke, Thomas's cries echoed off the palace walls, a chilling reminder of the consequences of transgression. Yet, he maintained his innocence between his gasps for breath. The staff watched in silence, each lost in their thoughts, each quietly grateful it wasn't them in his place. Once the punishment was over, Thomas, now fired and shamed, was sent away from the palace. His pleas of innocence were still hanging in the air as the grand palace doors closed behind him. For Alexander, the incident left a bitter taste. The watch had been found, the 'thief' punished, and yet justice felt unserved. He found himself questioning the judgement, wondering if there had been some mistake. But there was no room for doubts in this world governed by the Church and God. He was a prince, soon to be king, and his decisions, however hard, were a reflection of his commitment to justice. And so, with a heavy heart, he watched as Thomas disappeared from view, the echo of his pleas slowly fading into the silence of the day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Five: The King and the Clergyman As Prince Alexander Fenrich stepped into his father's study for the first time, he was overcome by a sense of awe. The room was a repository of wisdom and history, filled with rows of leather-bound books and portraits of previous kings of Argon. But, it wasn't the grandeur of the room that left Alexander breathless. It was the man standing in the middle of the room - King Richard Fenrich - his father. As Alexander looked at his father, he recalled the teachings from the church school, "The Pope and the Church are the sole representatives of God in this world. The clergy of the Holy Church are the masters of all kings and emperors." Until that day, he had understood these words as metaphorical, not literal. He had attended the coronations of kings, where he saw these mighty men kneel, prostrate and kiss the feet of the Pope and the bishops. He knew his father did the same in front of the Grand Bishop of Argon during significant religious ceremonies. But he had dismissed it as ceremonial, a traditional homage, especially considering Bishop Benedictus's old age and high rank. His assumptions shattered abruptly when the door to the study was flung open. A young man, barely in his thirties, clad in the robes of a low-ranking clergyman, strode into the room without knocking. His face was filled with an arrogance that seemed to fill the room. He scolded the king with a mocking tone, "You majesty are really hard to found! The bishop has summoned you." Alexander watched, stunned, as his king father instantly knelt and crawled towards the clergyman. He kissed the young cleric's shiny black patent shoes and sniffed his ankles, which were covered by black silk socks. His father's voice was filled with humility and trepidation that Alexander had never seen before, "I'm so sorry sir, it will never happen again." The scene unfolded as if in slow motion. Alexander watched the smirk on the clergyman's face grow wider. A guard, upon the clergyman's nod, approached Alexander, took him by the arm, and escorted him out of the study. The door closed, leaving Alexander alone in the hallway, the echo of his father's apology still ringing in his ears. He was left grappling with the realization that the doctrines he had been taught at the monastery school were not metaphorical, but stark reality. The Pope and the Church held absolute power, even over kings and emperors. His father, the mighty King Richard Fenrich, was, as the Church had taught him, "the lowliest slave" and "the humblest servant" to the Church and the clergy. It was a sobering revelation for Alexander, a moment that shook him to his core. The power of the Church was not just a matter of ceremonies and doctrines; it was real and omnipresent. As the reality of this power structure sank in, he found himself standing in the silent hallway, grappling with the magnitude of what he had just witnessed. The doctrines were no longer abstract concepts but the undeniable truth of his world. The balance of power was irrevocably tilted towards the Church, a reality that was now becoming more real for Alexander with each passing day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Six: The New Hierarchy of Power Just when Prince Alexander Fenrich had begun to grasp the reality of the Church's power, the world around him took another dramatic shift. The election of a new Pope had brought about a wave of change that no one, not even Alexander, could have predicted. A more literal interpretation of the Church's doctrines began to be enforced, redefining the relationship between the Church and the monarchies in a manner that was, quite frankly, shocking. The coronation ceremonies, which once allowed the Kings a shred of dignity through the wearing of a thin white tunic, now demanded complete nudity. The Church insisted that the act of appearing in full nudity during the coronation symbolized the stripping away of worldly status. Alexander could only imagine the humiliation, the exposure, a reminder to all of the king's earthly and humble state before the power of the Church. And that was just the beginning. The day-to-day lives of the kings and emperors were becoming more and more intertwined with the will of the Church. Every aspect, from public duties to private lives, was under the Church's scrutiny. Even the most intimate activities, including their sexual lives and reproductive choices, fell under the Church's jurisdiction. Bishops and clergymen were now present in every aspect of a king's life, their authority absolute and unquestioned. Alexander couldn't help but feel a chill when he thought about the bishops overseeing the sexual activities of the secular rulers. Pleasure was no longer a private affair, every action now performed under the cold, judging gaze of a clergyman. It was control taken to an extreme, an invasion of privacy that seemed, in Alexander's mind, too extreme to be real. But the changes did not end there. The Church was now pushing for the right of Discipline and Punishment. Alexander had always known the Church to have an implicit authority over the kings and emperors. Still, this was explicit control, a blatant demonstration of power. The bishops and clergymen could now administer physical disciplines and punishments to kings, princes, and emperors. It was a law that seemed to tip the balance of power irrevocably towards the Church. These changes shook the very core of Alexander's beliefs. The world around him was changing at a frightening pace, the realities he had come to understand were being uprooted. The Church's power was no longer just a religious concept taught in schools; it was a palpable force, reshaping society, dictating the lives of its rulers. As he pondered over these unsettling changes, Alexander felt a profound sense of uncertainty. The power dynamics he had just started to understand were shifting again. But even as the world around him changed, his resolve did not waver. He was a servant of God and the Church, a soon-to-be king. And come what may, he was prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead, for his faith, his duty, his kingdom. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Seven: The Reign of the Church The world, as Prince Alexander Fenrich knew it, was changing. The new Pope's ascension to the papal throne had brought with it a significant shift in power dynamics. The Church's power was now absolute, extending beyond the spiritual realm and deeply into temporal matters. Every king and emperor was now bound by an oath of fealty to the Pope and his successors, a gesture that established the Church's supremacy over all secular rulers. The military, once the backbone of a kingdom's power, now found themselves pledging allegiance not just to their rulers but also to the Pope. The words of the oath echoed in Alexander's mind, "To protect the Church with all our might". The Church was no longer just a spiritual entity but a political power with its military force - The Holy Guards of the Church. The Church was now, in every sense, the ultimate authority. Justice was no longer a matter of the kingdom's law; it was dictated by the Church's doctrines. The Church held the power to trial, sentence, depose, and even punish kings or emperors. The idea was chilling, a clear indication of the Church's absolute power and control. Education, the cornerstone of society, was entirely under the Church's control. The Church was not just shaping the minds of the common folk but also the royals. Every future king and emperor was educated within the confines of Church-run institutions, ensuring their values and philosophies align with the Church doctrine from an early age. The ceremonial humility Alexander had seen his father display was now a requirement for all kings and emperors. Obedience and submission to the Church and its clergy were not just expected but demanded. Kneeling, prostrating, kissing the feet of even the lowest-ranking clergymen were not just signs of respect but a testament to their status as "the lowest slaves" and "the humblest servants" of the Church. The Church's control was pervasive, extending even to the media and means of information dissemination. Any opposing viewpoints were quickly censored, labeled as heretical, and its propagators dealt with severely. There was no room for dissent in this new world order. The Church's doctrine was the truth, and anything else was not just wrong but a sin against God himself. Alexander found himself navigating this new world with a sense of trepidation. He was a servant of God and the Church, soon to be a king in a world where kings were slaves. The absolute power of the Church was an undeniable reality that he was coming to terms with. Despite the chilling changes, his faith remained unshaken. His duty, his path was clear - he was to serve, for he was not just Alexander Fenrich, the prince of Argon; he was Alexander, the humble servant of God and the Church. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Eight: The Gilded Cage Prince Alexander Fenrich stood on the balcony of his grand palace, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the sprawling kingdom of Argon. From his vantage point, he could see the vast expanse of the land he was born to rule. It was a kingdom filled with diverse landscapes, from lush forests to rolling hills, and magnificent cities. After graduating from the church school, Alexander had returned to his father's side, taking his place as the crown prince of Argon. The luxurious palace he now called home was a testament to his status and privilege. It was a world of opulence, adorned with intricate tapestries, fine art, and gilded furniture. A team of servants catered to his every need, ensuring that his days were filled with comfort and luxury. But for all the privileges that came with his birthright, Alexander was not one to take them for granted. He knew that he was among the fortunate few in this world, with more power and resources than most could ever dream of. Yet, he carried himself with confidence, pride, and dignity, understanding that he was not just a prince but a future king, destined to lead his people with honor and wisdom. The people of Argon held him in high regard, showing him respect and homage wherever he went. Even those who were not part of the Church clergy understood the importance of his position and treated him with deference. He could go almost anywhere in his kingdom, save for the sacred white palace where the revered Bishop Benedictus resided. That place remained off-limits, shrouded in an aura of mystery and power that left even Alexander curious. As he moved through the halls of his palace, he was followed by a retinue of royal guards, their armor gleaming in the light. They were there to protect him, a constant reminder of the responsibilities that came with his birthright. Despite the air of authority that surrounded him, Alexander was not arrogant or overbearing. He treated those around him with kindness and respect, understanding that true leadership lay not in dominance but in compassion. In the evenings, Alexander often found solace in the grand library of the palace. Surrounded by ancient tomes and literary classics, he would lose himself in the world of knowledge, seeking to understand the complexities of governance and the histories of his ancestors. The pursuit of wisdom was not just a duty but a passion, a way for him to prepare himself for the weight of the crown he would one day bear. Yet, amidst all the luxury and privilege, there was a void in Alexander's heart - the absence of his mother. She had died giving birth to him, a fact that had always filled him with a sense of loss and longing. He had grown up without her, only knowing her through the stories his father and the palace staff would tell. But despite the sadness that lingered, Alexander did not dwell on his mother's absence. He knew that life was a tapestry of joy and sorrow, and he had a duty to his kingdom and his people that he could not ignore. As the sun set over the kingdom of Argon, Alexander stood on the balcony, a silhouette against the fading light. He felt a surge of gratitude for the life he had been given, for the privilege and power he possessed. But he also felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, a reminder that he was not just a prince living in luxury, but a future king with the fate of his kingdom resting in his hands. With a sense of determination, he looked out over his kingdom, knowing that one day, he would be called upon to lead with confidence, pride, and dignity, just as he had always done. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Nine: A Prince's Life A soft morning light filtered through the tall windows of Prince Alexander Fenrich's palatial chambers, heralding the start of a new day. Alexander awoke to a world of privilege, the comforts of his royal existence shaping the rhythm of his life. The palace he called home was a testament to the might of Argon, its grandeur a reflection of the kingdom's power and prosperity. Ornate tapestries draped the walls, paintings of Argon's verdant landscapes, and portraits of his royal ancestors adding to the palatial charm. Alexander's day started amidst this opulence, a reminder of the lineage to which he belonged. An army of servants catered to his every need, their attentiveness a nod to his status as the crown prince. From the maid who carefully arranged his wardrobe to the personal chef who ensured his meals were to his liking, each individual played a part in the smooth running of his day. Alexander's education was an important part of his routine. His father, King Richard, had ensured that his son received the best instruction possible. An array of tutors, all masters in their respective fields, taught Alexander a range of subjects, broadening his understanding of the world. Geography, economics, diplomacy, governance, and military strategy -- the knowledge he gained was a preparation for the responsibilities he would assume in the future. Beyond his academic pursuits, Alexander had a passion for sports. His days were often punctuated with vigorous tennis matches or long rides across the sweeping landscapes of Argon. His 27-year-old valet, Charles, a capable sportsman himself, often joined him, their friendly competitions a source of camaraderie and amusement. Despite his schedule, Alexander found time to appreciate the beauty of his kingdom. His keen eye took in the intricacies of the architecture, the lush green of the gardens, the laughter of the children playing in the courtyards. His life was privileged, and he savored every moment. Yet, there was one element of his life that remained elusive -- his relationship with his father. King Richard, always engrossed in the governance of Argon, was a distant figure. His presence was felt more in his absence. Their meetings were sporadic, brief moments where the king's warmth permeated the aura of majesty and mystery that surrounded him. Life as a prince was a unique blend of privilege and duty, luxury and responsibility. As the sun set on another day in Argon, Alexander retreated to his chambers. The world outside his window was illuminated in the warm hues of the evening, the kingdom of Argon stretching out in all its glory. As he looked out, Alexander was acutely aware of his position -- a prince, a future king, a student, and a son. His life was a tapestry of privilege and power, woven with threads of duty and responsibility, a pattern he was still learning to navigate. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Ten: The Forbidden Love Dawn arrived with the gentle rays of the sun peeking through the tall windows of Prince Alexander's lavish chambers. Alexander, having just awoken from a restful sleep, was greeted by Charles, his trusted valet. Charles, standing at an impressive 6'2", was a sight to behold. His jet-black hair, trimmed and styled perfectly, was a stark contrast to his light olive skin. His deep brown eyes were full of warmth, and the light stubble that covered his chin and cheeks added a ruggedness to his handsome features. Charles was more than just a valet to Alexander; he was a confidant, a companion, and a secret lover. Their mornings began with a quiet routine, Charles helping Alexander with his daily grooming and dressing rituals. Charles's skilled hands would run through Alexander's hair, styling it to perfection. He would then assist Alexander in dressing, choosing from a range of finely tailored clothes that signified his status as a prince. Each garment was handled with care, every crease smoothed, every button fastened with meticulous precision. Throughout the day, Charles attended to Alexander's needs, ensuring his clothes were kept in perfect condition, his shoes polished to a shine. He was the perfect valet, performing his duties with absolute professionalism. But their connection ran deeper, their relationship extending beyond that of a master and servant. Once the sun set and the palace fell into quiet, their real relationship emerged. The formalities of the day gave way to intimacy and passion, their roles reversing in the privacy of their chambers. Alexander, the powerful prince by day, became a willing lover at night. Charles, the dutiful valet, transformed into an object of desire, his unseen beauty and well-muscled physique driving Alexander to distraction. As the candles flickered casting a warm glow over their intertwined bodies, Charles would assist Alexander in undressing. Each item of clothing removed revealed a landscape of hard muscles and masculine beauty that left Charles breathless. Their bed scenes were filled with raw passion and intense desire, a silent symphony played out under the velvet cover of the night. Their relationship was a forbidden love, a secret they guarded closely. The societal norms and church doctrines made it necessary for them to keep their love hidden from the world. Yet, within the confines of their private chambers, they found solace in each other's arms. Their love was profound, transcending the boundaries of their stations, intertwining their souls in a bond that only they could understand. As each day faded into night, and the world around them fell into a deep slumber, Alexander and Charles found themselves in each other's arms, their bodies entwined in a dance as old as time itself. Despite the societal constraints and the demands of his princely duties, Alexander found a haven in Charles, a beacon of light in his otherwise complex world. Their love was a secret they vowed to keep, their hearts beating in rhythm, a silent promise to always be there for each other, no matter what the future held. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Eleven: In the Quiet of the Night As the evening descended over the kingdom, a hush enveloped Prince Alexander's private chambers, lit only by the soft, flickering glow of candles. Within this sanctuary, the prince found himself standing before Charles, the layers of royal attire waiting to be peeled away under the deft touch of his valet and lover. Charles began by unbuttoning Alexander's jacket, each button popped free marked a step deeper into their secret world. His fingers brushed lightly against Alexander's chest, the subtle contact eliciting a soft gasp from the prince. The jacket was then eased off Alexander's broad shoulders, revealing a crisp white shirt clinging to the contours of his muscular torso. Charles moved onto the shirt, undoing the topmost button and gradually working his way down. With each button undone, more of Alexander's sculpted chest was unveiled, the sight causing a warm flush to spread across Charles's face. The shirt joined the jacket on the floor, leaving Alexander bare from the waist up, his taut muscles gleaming in the candlelight. Next were the trousers, the belt unbuckled with a swift, practiced motion. As the trousers slid down Alexander's legs, the strength and power of his physique became more evident. Boxers remained as the last barrier, their removal leaving Alexander in his naked glory. His body was a testament to his active lifestyle and royal lineage, each muscle rippling under the candlelight, a sight that left Charles breathless. Attention was then turned to Alexander's patent leather shoes. One by one, Charles unlaced them, his fingers working dexterously, easing them off Alexander's feet. The silk socks followed, pulled off gently, revealing Alexander's strong, bare feet. Now bare, Alexander drew Charles close, their bodies pressed against each other in an intimate embrace. What followed was a dance as old as time itself. The bed beneath them became a stage, their bodies moving in sync as they explored each other. Alexander's masculine presence was overwhelming yet alluring. Charles surrendered willingly, a moan escaping his lips as Alexander claimed him. The rhythm of their movements quickened, their bodies entwined in a dance of desire and passion. Alexander's thrusts were powerful, driving Charles to the edge of ecstasy. Yet, amidst the whirlwind of physical pleasure, there was a profound emotional connection that made their intimate moments even more intense. As their bodies moved together, Alexander's hands roamed over Charles's body, his touch leaving a trail of tingling warmth. The sight of Charles beneath him, flushed and panting, drove Alexander wild. Every moan, every gasp, fueled his desire, making him more determined to push Charles to the brink of pleasure. Their lovemaking was not just a physical act; it was a symphony of shared desire, an expression of the love that dared not speak its name. As they climaxed together, their cries of pleasure echoed through the room, the sounds a testament to the intensity of their love. In the aftermath, they lay entwined, their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, chests rising and falling in tandem. The connection they shared ran deeper than their physical attraction. It was a bond forged in the quiet of the night, a love as deep and mysterious as the night itself. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Eleven: A Dance of Desire The grandeur of Prince Alexander's bedroom was a backdrop to the intimate dance of passion that unfolded between him and Charles as night fell. The room, bathed in the soft glow of flickering candlelight, was filled with opulent furnishings befitting a prince. An ornately carved four-poster bed adorned with rich silk sheets dominated the room, while lavish tapestries and fine art added to the regal ambience. As Charles stepped into the room, closing the heavy oak door behind him, the formalities of their day-to-day lives slipped away. The air was heavy with anticipation, their hearts echoing the rhythmic cadence of their shared desires. As Charles turned to face Alexander, his eyes, usually full of warmth and duty, now shimmered with unspoken promises. Alexander, who carried himself with the surety of a prince during the day, allowed a vulnerability to surface in these private moments. Charles, with a look of reverent adoration, stepped towards Alexander, his strong hands moving to the fine material of the prince's attire. The room was filled with the soft rustling of fabric as Charles skillfully undressed Alexander. The prince's regal clothes were replaced with the honesty of bare skin, revealing the hard lines of his muscular body. Alexander stood still, allowing Charles to explore him, their connection intensifying with each passing moment. As Charles finally stepped back, Alexander moved forward, reciprocating the intimate gesture. With careful precision, he undressed Charles, revealing the valet's well-muscled build that was usually concealed beneath his uniform. Their roles reversed in these intimate moments, the master becoming the lover, the servant becoming the desired. Their bodies moved in a dance as old as time, a celebration of their secret love. Alexander explored Charles with a sense of wonder, his hands tracing the contours of Charles's muscular form, his touch eliciting soft sighs from the valet's lips. They moved towards the bed, their bodies tangling in the soft silk sheets. Their lovemaking was a symphony of whispered words and hushed breaths, an exploration of shared desires. Each touch was a promise, every kiss a testament of their love for each other. As their bodies moved in rhythm, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just Alexander and Charles, lost in a world of their own. Their love, their secret, came alive in these intimate moments, their shared ecstasy a culmination of their profound connection. As dawn broke, they lay entwined in each other's arms, the grandeur of the bedroom a silent witness to their shared passion. Their hearts beat in synchrony, their bodies a testament to a night of love and desire. Their secret was safe within these four walls, a treasured memory of a love that transcended societal norms and constraints. In the soft glow of the morning light, their bodies still entwined, they slipped into a peaceful slumber, dreaming dreams only lovers do. Alexander, the prince, and Charles, the valet, ceased to exist. In their place were two lovers, bound by a love that defied rules, a love that was their secret, their haven. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Twelve: Mornings with You Morning came, bringing with it a soft light that cascaded through the grand windows of the prince's chamber. This heralded the beginning of another day for Prince Alexander and his trusted valet, Charles. Their morning routine was intimate, the familiarity between them palpable. The bathroom echoed with the sound of running water as Charles helped Alexander into the shower. The room was filled with the delicate scent of imported soaps and shampoos, a fragrance that mingled with the steam rising from the warm water. As they stepped under the spray, Alexander leaned back into Charles, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. His eyes fluttered shut as Charles's fingers moved methodically over his body, lathering soap onto his skin, the sensual touch sending a shiver down Alexander's spine. Once they were both thoroughly cleaned, Charles helped Alexander out of the shower, his hands steady as he wrapped a plush towel around the prince's waist. There was an air of domesticity in their routine, a quiet intimacy that spoke volumes about their relationship. Their physical closeness during these moments was comfortable, the boundaries of master and servant blurring into something more profound. Next came the grooming, Charles tending to Alexander with the care of a devoted lover. The smooth slide of the razor across Alexander's cheek, the precise snipping of the scissors as Charles trimmed his hair, the soft brush of fingers as they styled his locks - every action was filled with intent. Charles's touch was gentle, yet firm, his focus solely on Alexander. Once the grooming was done, they moved onto the task of dressing. As Charles brought out the day's attire, Alexander watched with admiration. His valet had an impeccable taste in clothing, always selecting outfits that accentuated his royal stature. As Charles dressed him, each button fastened and each garment adjusted with precision, Alexander felt a sense of gratitude. Not many people had the privilege of being cared for so tenderly. The intimacy of their routine was not lost on Alexander. The warm press of Charles's body against his own, the casual touches and soft words exchanged between them - they were all moments of genuine affection that added to the depth of their relationship. Even though they had to maintain the facade of a master and valet in public, these private moments in the morning were a testament to their love for each other. By the time Alexander was fully dressed and ready for the day, they shared a quiet moment, their eyes meeting in the mirror's reflection. It was in these unspoken moments of connection that their bond deepened. Despite the societal norms and expectations, they had found something precious in each other, a secret love that thrived in the quiet of the morning. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Thirteen: Dressing a Prince With the grooming session completed, Charles and Alexander found themselves back in the prince's expansive dressing room. Before them lay a meticulously selected ensemble - a crisp white shirt, tailored trousers, a finely crafted suit jacket, a silk pocket square, a pair of polished black patent dress shoes, and a pair of black thin silk socks - each item handpicked by Charles to complement Alexander's stately persona. Charles started with the white shirt, its fabric soft and cool to the touch. He carefully slid it onto Alexander, his fingers delicately tracing the contours of his muscular back as he fastened each button. The shirt fit perfectly, hugging Alexander's torso, emphasizing his well-toned physique. Next, Charles helped Alexander into the trousers, the high-quality fabric draping over his legs smoothly. Charles's hands were steady as he fastened the belt, ensuring a comfortable fit. His eyes met Alexander's in the mirror, a silent conversation passing between them. The suit jacket followed, its rich fabric highlighting Alexander's broad shoulders and narrow waist. Charles helped him into it, his hands briefly resting on Alexander's shoulders, a quiet sense of intimacy passing between them. Charles then proceeded to adjust the lapels, ensuring they lay perfectly flat. The pocket square, a piece of fine silk, was then deftly folded and tucked into the jacket's pocket, adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. Now came the moment that Charles always found strangely intimate - the dressing of Alexander's feet. He picked up the thin black silk socks, their fabric soft and luxurious. As he knelt before Alexander, there was a quiet reverence in his movements. Charles gently lifted Alexander's foot, carefully pulling the sock up, ensuring it fit perfectly. The process was repeated with the other foot, Charles's fingers deftly smoothing out any wrinkles. Finally, Charles moved onto the black patent dress shoes, their polished surface gleaming under the room's soft lighting. As he slid each shoe onto Alexander's foot, there was a sense of completion, a satisfaction that came with knowing he had played a part in preparing the prince for the day. Once the shoes were securely on, Charles took a moment to admire his work, his eyes trailing up Alexander's perfectly attired form. Throughout the dressing process, their connection was palpable. The shared glances, the quiet whispers, the soft touches -- all of it added to the intimacy of their relationship. Even the seemingly mundane task of dressing was transformed into a dance of love, a dance that only they knew the steps to. As they finished up, Alexander found himself looking at Charles in the mirror, a wave of affection washing over him. For the outside world, they were a prince and his valet, but in these private moments, they were simply Alexander and Charles - two men deeply in love.
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Date: Sat, 27 Apr 2024 07:25:37 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 3 So, guys, Rachel and Robbie continue their shopping excursion in this weird little town of Hardington where there is not only public nudity, but public humiliation. It has become special entertainment for the visitors and residence there. Rachel is having Robbie try on teeny, tiny, string bikinis, not even allowing him to use the dressing room! Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 3 of 6 "No, I don't think this orange is a good color for you." A couple of phone flashes went off. She returned to the same drawer, found another size 28, but a bright yellow, and told him to try that pair on. He grabbed it quickly, a little too quickly; he was just way too nervous standing there naked. He didn't even leave to go into the dressing room. What was the point? He just stepped one foot and then the other into the bikini. But then a surprised and puzzled look came over his face as he struggled to pull up the tight suit. He had to wriggle his thighs and hips as he slowly pulled it up. Even though it finally stretched over his butt, it was certainly way too small. He did manage to jam his balls and dick in the pouch, but he could feel the back side would no longer cover his ass. When fully pulled up, he reached behind him, felt his cheeks, and realized that he was showing two inches of his ass crack. "OK, dear, turn around. Let us take a good look." And he did as ordered. "Now stretch your arms way up high; we want to be sure they won't fall off." He did. "OK, I see the problem," she said. In front of the gathered customers, Rachel pulled down the front of his bikini a little to find the pull string and untied it. She then put her hand inside the front pouch, pulled on his jammed-in "folded dick," straightened it out, and angled it to his right hip. Then she reached deeper inside and gently grabbed and readjusted his balls so they bulged in the front of his suit rather than hiding down and under his groin. Now, instead of a big general mound in the front, Robbie was very clearly, showing his firm dick pointing up and to the right with a ball on each side at its base. More noticeable, it could not be. There was a full-length dressing mirror on a nearby pillar, which he looked in to see himself. There he was, totally naked but for this squeezed-in bikini. He thought he looked like a slut. He was so embarrassed, and that caused his dick to get even stiffer. He was not even wearing shoes since his mother gave them to a teen who had simply admired them. He wanted to die there and then from the humiliation as he saw the faces of the customers, especially the two teen boys who were chuckling at him. She made him turn and twist and bend over. Then Rachael turned to the customers watching and asked, "Doesn't my dear sweet Robbie look so sexy in his new bright yellow bikini? Look how the strings hang down on the sides as a decoration. Robbie, I think you look great. Yellow is your color." The watchers also nodded their approval and took photos. She followed Robbie around the store and asked another clerk, "Do you carry the Onion Skin brand running shorts? My dear, sweet Robbie likes to show off his body in tiny, skimpy shorts." The clerk pointed to where they were, and she went to that display with Robbie in tow. Onion Skins were extremely lightweight, nearly see-thru, and made for jogging. They were low in the hip and very short in length, so runners noticed no material causing friction on their thighs. In addition, each side had a slit up to the waistband. If the wearer lifted his knee-waist high, you could see the curve of his ass through the slit. So, they were designed to be very lightweight and non-binding on a runner's legs and crotch. For normal modesty, the shorts came with a silk cup or pocket where a man's dick and balls would be placed for support when running or walking. The cup snapped to the inside front of the waistband. The ass cheeks had no extra covering, just the paper-thin "onion skin" material. Rachel examined several pairs, noticing how the cup was removable and snapped securely to the inside front of the waistband. She thought it worked as a flimsy, skimpy mini jock so the wearer would be decent. Again, Rachel selected a white pair, knowing that if this thin, white material got wet in any way, Robbie's dick and ass would surely show through. She never asked him to try them on; she wanted him to stay in the embarrassing bikinis. "Robbie, let's check some T-shirts for you." She looked up to notice they were in the very front of the store. "Oh, there they are, near the front display windows. Come along, dear." The T-shirt display was right inside the huge bay window. And the passers-by stopped and stared at Robbie as Rachel pretended not to notice. She had him linger there for quite a while as she pretended to browse. Then, it was off to the checkout. "I shall take these two items, the yellow bikini he's wearing and these Onion Skins." She told the clerk, a salesman she knew, who just called her "Miss Rachel." She watched Robbie react when he said, "Miss Rachel." There was none. Robbie was too concerned and nervous about the bikinis he was wearing and wanted to get back into the baggy cotton trunks he had walked in with. "Would you like to pay in the normal manner, Miss Rachel?" She nodded. The clerk beamed an approving smile. "Robbie, go to the changing room, remove your bikini, and wait." She stared at him momentarily to ensure he understood this request was a command. Once again, "Wait" registered with him. But this time, the purpose was to give the clerk his reward, or "pay." He was too embarrassed to look up when the cubicle curtain was pulled open. He recognized the lower half of the clerk's body and saw the bulge in the front of his trousers. In this stance, Robbie presented his dick to the clerk. The clerk fondled and rubbed every inch of this hunky teen's body. He licked him all over, including his dick balls and ass crack, and asshole. He was one happy clerk. He left the cubicle and went into the office to beat off. Rachel knew the clerk had been well paid by the erection he was showing in his trousers as he left the cubicle. Robbie got no such relief. He heard Rachel's voice call out, "OK, sweetie, get dressed and come on out. It's time to go." He looked around the cubicle for the knee-length shorts he had walked in with but could not see them. He wondered if he was in the right dressing room, and he was. There was no sign of his baggy, heavy cotton shorts. The only thing he had to wear was that tiny, obscene bright yellow bikini. And just then, he realized that that is what Rachel meant for him to put back on by her "get dressed" command. So, he did as best he could, trying to get the back panel of the bikini to cover his ass more completely. As he emerged, Rachel looked at him in the undersized bikini and shook her head. "No, sweetie, fix your private parts as Mama showed you. You'll crush your balls if you try to sit down with your equipment all bunched up under you. Now, do as I showed you ... or do you want me to fix it for you again?" Robbie did not want Rachel, who he still thought of as his mother, to fondle his dick, especially in public. Robbie wanted to turn his back on her and fix it himself, but he already knew better than to turn his back on "Mistress Rachel." So, she stuck her hand in the front bikini pouch, pulled his still erect dick fully upward, and pointed it to his right hip. Then she reached inside again and maneuvered his balls, bringing them forward and separating them so one was on each side of his dick. Robbie could not help but glimpse into the mirror and see just how nasty and obscene he looked. Then he stared open-mouthed in horror as he now noticed what everyone else had noticed earlier. Because the waistband strap of the bikini was so narrow, the tip of his fat dick could now be seen slightly above and below that strap. He was actually showing his dick in public. He knew he was not allowed to ask a question or to make a comment without permission, so he just pointed at the tip of his dick, displaying an intensely nervous look. "Oh, see, now you are wearing that properly. You are such a fast learner, my dear sweet Robbie. I was going to have you wear the Onion Skin shorts home, but you look so perfect in these I know you'll want to wear them home instead. Oh, my dear, sweet Robbie, you are finally learning to dress properly. And everyone can see that." It may seem that getting a haircut and buying a "swimsuit" and a pair of jogging shorts is not worth driving thirty miles to another town. Still, Mistress Rachel and her "charge" had a very full and important "training day." Rachel seldom overtly expressed the joy she felt in Robbie's submissive behavior because she wanted him to always feel the need to try harder, obey without hesitation, and please her more. But Mistress Rachel was extremely pleased. She was ecstatic and could not wait to get home to tell her husband, Matt, all about their adventure. Rachel escorted Robbie onto the downtown street, walking away from where she parked. They strolled quite a ways, with, at least, Rachel enjoying the stroll. She obviously was wandering down the main streets, enjoying making a public spectacle of her former son in his bright yellow bikini. She especially liked the dangling strings hanging on each of his hips, which made the bikini string look girlish. Each time he stepped down from a curb or up to a sidewalk, his dick would pop free and stick out. He would immediately poke it back under the tiny waistband strap, catching the tip of his dick behind the narrow band of fabric that was jokingly, the waistband. It was more like a "waist string." Rachel had an idea. She was a treasure trove of ideas, or, as most might call them, schemes. She guided Robbie to a nearby sidewalk ice cream cart and smiled each time she glanced over to see him re-tuck his hard dick halfway back inside his bikini pouch. Rachel ordered two triple-scoop ice cream cones, which were super-size waffle cones. She handed them both to Robbie, who took one in each hand while she paid. Robbie looked at her puzzled, and she explained he was probably super hungry, so she got him two huge cones. In front of the ice cream man and the few others around them, she instructed Robbie, like a little child, how to eat his ice cream. "Sweetie, we are a long way from the car, so as we walk back, I want you to lick each of the cones, not bite into them. Focus on the cones. On a warm day like this, they will soon start to drip all over you. So be careful, and lick each one alternately." Robbie thought this was all very weird, but he was thankful for the cool treat on a day that had started overcast and had now become relatively warm. She spoke again, knowing everyone was eyeing his well-toned body, dressed only in not much more than a G-string. "Honey, they're starting to drip all over your hands. I'll never know why you wanted TWO cones, but if you make a mess, I will spank you good, right here and now, so focus on those cones and lick up every drip." Robbie nodded, bringing one up to his face and holding the other down at his waist. But that was not what Rachel wanted. She told him to hold both up near his face so he could be ready to catch the drips. Her purpose was three-fold: She wanted him to concentrate on the dripping cones as a distraction. Two, she wanted him to keep his eyes up and not look down where he would notice that his hard dick sprung out of the confines of his bikini. And third, she wanted both his hands away from his waist, so passers-by had a good, unobstructed view of his big hard dick. It was so hilarious, at least to onlookers. There was this hunky 18-year-old, muscle-toned, six feet tall man with a buzz haircut wearing what, at first glance, seemed like a woman's skimpy yellow bikini. Worst, at a second glance, his big, rigid pole was sticking out from his groin, pointing upward to the side. WORST yet, he had his hands in front of his face, licking one dripping ice cream cone and then the other, as he appeared unaware of his obscene state of dress, walked down the main street of the quaint little town of Hardington. A young couple approached Rachael and said, "Your boy looks so cute. May we take a photo of him?" "Oh, of course. My dear, sweet Robbie would love to be filmed." Then to Robbie, "Robbie, put your cones down and stand with these lovely people." And Robbie had to swallow hard and not object, though he hated being seen, let alone photographed, in such an obscene... skimpy, tiny, indecent... nothing. "OK, give me your cell so I can photograph all three of you," Rachel said. "Now stand back in front of the restaurant and smile." Rachel was so proud, not of Robbie, but of herself, for manipulating this entire scene. In his new bright yellow bikini, adorable Robbie looked like a deer in the headlights as a young couple stared at him. At least his dick went down some. The couple and Rachael exchanged thank yous and parted. His deflated dick did not do it for her or his training. "Robbie, pick up your ice cream cones." He did. "Oh, and let me adjust you again." She inserted her hands, front and back, into his bikini and pretended to adjust his dick and balls, but really to tease them to erection further. Robbie was busy licking up the quickly dripping ice cream as Rachael tickled-teased him to the point where his hard dick was poking out above his waistband. Now, she was satisfied. She led him further down the street. Then, it dawned on her, does Robbie know how ridiculous he looks walking on a public street in a girlie stringy thing with his dick greeting the world? She needed to do something different if he was not feeling the public humiliation, which was the whole purpose of their shopping trip today. "Robbie dear, I hope that you are enjoying our stroll." He did not know what she meant as he quickly licked one drippy cone and then the other. "I mean, I don't have a problem with you wanting to flaunt yourself, and as I see all these folks with big smiles, I guess they do not either." He was focused on the new drips running down his hands, down his wrists and arms. He was not aware that more people were keeping up with his pace. It was not difficult; they were not walking very fast, but no one passed him. They were creating a group around him. He finally noticed some of these people were smiling and others outright laughing. He hadn't a clue why, and he followed the direction of the gaze of one guy, which caused him to look down at his bright yellow bikini and ... "OH, MY GOD!" He could not believe his dick was sticking out. His hands were unavailable, so he squeezed his thighs together, trying to hide his dick from view. "Oh, god, Miss, oh, Miss ... Please! I need to stop and fix this!" He was in a panic. "Please miss, please hold these for a minute," referring to the cones. "What is your problem, sweetie? I don't want to hold those sticky, dripping cones. Look how they've dripped all over you - not just your hands, but now on your chest and even your thighs. My dear, sweet Robbie, you want Mama to get her dress all messed up, too?" He only repeated, "Oh please ... oh ... please ... dear Miss...!" Then, with a slightly sterner tone, "Look, if you don't lick that mess off your hands and lick those cones so they stop dripping, I'm not letting you in the car. I just had it all cleaned. You can take the bus home." Then she added a cruel touch of humiliation. "If you want to walk all over town with your penis sticking out just because you think everyone should see it, I don't care. You are embarrassing me. And why in the world did you insist on buying that ridiculously tiny bikini? Rachael stopped walking, and the group gathered around the two. She turned to Robbie and spoke loudly for all to hear. "As I think of it, I think it's for a girl. Why did you insist on getting this girl's G-string? I should have bought the bra and panties you wanted also. Don't you know these are underwear, and not for the public street? But I suppose you are old enough to do things your way." Robbie was in shock. He just heard his "mother" tell everyone that he wanted to dress up in women's lingerie and parade down the street. If there had been an open manhole, he would have jumped into it. "I love you, son, even when you want to parade in public like this, with your big stiff penis sticking out. And you don't even have the decency to cover your junk up with your hands." That's precisely what Robbie wanted to do. Still, he knew what his Mistress wanted, so he kept his hands up and thrust his pelvis out, making his dick as prominent as he could... to please Rachael. Then, for the audience's sake, she pretended to calm down, "Look, sweetie, I'm not passing judgment on you, if you want to wear that tiny ... itsy-bitsy ... G-string ... Well, that is fine with me. And if you want everyone gawking at you as a public spectacle, that's fine too." "Please? Oh god ... please? Please?" were all the words he could utter to get his mother ... his Mistress... to allow him to cover up. Robbie squeezed his thighs tighter together and wriggled his hips, hoping that his gyrations would cause his dick to get pushed back under the bikini material. He was so embarrassed and tried so hard to will his dick to make it deflate, as well as retreat from view. Suddenly, there was a roar of laughter. So, he looked down and was in a state of absolute horror. All his wriggling of his thighs and shaking of his hips had caused his balls to be pushed out, too. Not only was his dick now fully out, but his big, loose balls were hanging out. His juggling movements had merely caused that tiny front patch of material to give way, and it had accidentally worked fully to one side. "Now look at you! What am I going to do with you, honey? You've been trying to push your balls out and finally managed it! Well, at least you're proof our family has nothing to be ashamed of." There was some applause and a few catcalls. "OK, I give up. Yes, you may walk to the car like that. Can we now go so we can minimize the embarrassment of all these fine folks?" Robbie hung his head in shame and stepped behind Rachel to block the view of his dick and balls from passers-by. "No, you don't. Get in front of me so I can see that you don't drip ice cream all over my new dress. And please keep licking." If Robbie could have just been rid of those two ice cream cones, he could have quickly reached down and tucked his private parts away. But that was not to be. Finally, they reached the parking garage and then the car. Rachel got in but did not let Robbie in right. "First, toss that mess away. We passed a trash can at the entrance to the garage. Drop those things in there." Robbie hurried to the receptacle and discarded the cones, then rushed back to the car and just stood there, waiting for permission to enter. But still, Rachel did not give him the nod. Instead, she looked him up and down and sighed, "Robbie, you are one big mess! Here, take these and clean yourself off before you ruin my seat covers." She handed him several wet wipes, and he used them on himself. But he had drips of ice cream all over him, on his chest, his thighs, his feet, even on and under his bikini, where drips from his belly had run down. Robbie did the best he could do. He just wanted to get into the car and out of public view. After all, he was wearing nothing but the sting thing, not even shoes. Rachel had forced him to give those to a teenager who had admired them. She was still not satisfied. "Here, use these too," she said, handing him several more wet wipes. This time, he felt like he had managed to wipe his skin completely clean. He even wiped the bikini front, making a large wet spot - well, as large as a three-inch triangular piece of material could have. "Please miss, please? May I get in now?" Robbie started to reach for the passenger door handle. "No, look at that bikini; it's not only wet, but I'm sure it is all sticky. Just take it off." Robbie looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Other shoppers had gravitated around the car, gawking at Robbie. He knew he could not disobey. Rachel had already threatened to leave him there and make him take the bus home. He didn't know whether she was serious or not. Robbie looked around at more than a dozen people, chuckling at him. Robbie thought he could do this very quickly. He pulled off the bikini and offered it to Rachel without knowing what else to do. After all, she had bought it. People were taking photos and videos of him bare-ass naked. "Please, Miss Rachel, may I get in now, please?" "No, dear, that's a sticky mess too. Just put it in that same trash can by the entrance. Make sure you walk. I don't want you to slip on this smooth concrete floor with your bare feet." Rachel smiled. He went quickly, trying to cover up his crotch in his hurried walk mode. Rachel could see him drop the yellow bikini into the trash. A couple of teen girls were there and giggled in disbelief. He acknowledged them with a nod, then quickly returned to the car. Rachel was so proud of Robbie. But she could never tell him that. He could never know how pleased she, or Matt, was with him. Now standing fully naked just outside the front passenger door, Robbie waited. "Robbie, I wish you would just obey me. No hesitation. Just do what I tell you." Robbie was thinking, "Please, Mom, scold me later. Right now, please just fucking let me the car!" but, of course, he was silent. Rachel continued. "Well, you did OK, but on the next trip here, I want you to strip naked in the public mall and yell out, `I'M A PERVERT!' And then beat off. I think that would be so entertaining." Did she really mean that? Wouldn't he get arrested? How could she do that to her son? Or ... maybe she could do that to her slave! Robbie had a lot to think about. His dick was never soft. "OK, come on and get inside before you get me arrested," she said complainingly. No one had to tell Robbie twice. He hopped in immediately, finally safe! He was naked as the day he was born, sitting there in the car seat, with his dick bobbing and nodding, waiting for Rachel to put the car in gear and take off home. But instead of starting the car, she pushed a button, and a familiar motor sound started. The top of the car was retracting back. It was, of course, a convertible. When the top was fully retracted, she adjusted the mirrors, started up, and pulled out of her space. She slowly drove to the garage exit and got in a short line to pay for parking. Robbie crouched down as she approached. "Oh Robbie, don't be such a baby. Straighten up properly. Play with your dick - it's not big enough - you might as well enjoy it. And don't stop pumping it until I tell you to." Then, briefly pausing, "Or, I'll put you on the bus." Immediately Robbie grabbed his dick and rubbed it up and down nonstop. As it became her turn to pull up to the window, she greeted the young man in his early 20s with a big smile. His name tag said "Toby." "Hi, Toby, what's the fee for today?" as if she did not already know. Toby stared at the well-toned, naked teen in the front, playing with his dick. Toby was motionless with his mouth open. Then, "Why is he naked, ma'am? ... And ... and ... you know...?" "Oh, my dear sweet Robbie and I were here to shop for clothes, but he did not like them. He said he'd rather be naked. And he actually stripped naked as we walked back to the car." Toby was in shock, trying to think of what to say. "But how come he is ... you know ... with his thing?" Toby nervously asked. "Oh, well, he ..." she stopped and looked at Robbie pumping his dick, "Robbie, why don't you explain why you are doing that?" Robbie was puzzled. "Don't be shy, dear. You told me you noticed Toby before and thought he was hot-looking. Go ahead, explain yourself." "I ... I ... I saw you and thought you ... you ... were hot, and I got hard ... and I find you so sexy ... and ... and ..." "Oh Robbie, stop messing around and just tell him what you told me a few minutes ago ...That you wanted to ask him out on a date. Remember?" And what do you want to do to him?" Toby's face turned beet red, and he could not believe what she said. As Robbie pumped his dick, being careful not to climax, he told Toby, "I ... thought ... I thought you were hot and ... and ... I wanted to ask you out on a date ... I really just ... just ... wanted you to ... to ..." He paused. Rachel just gave him a deadly look to signal that he needed to obey her wishes, no matter how embarrassing. "To have you fuck me ... I mean ... my ass ... I mean my asshole. And I would beg you to ... to let me suck your dick ..." In mouth-opened shock, Toby pressed the button to lift the motorized gate arm in a daze, not even bothering to ask for the parking fee. He was too weirded out. Rachel waved and pulled the car onto the street, and Robbie slouched down, naked, in the front passenger seat with the convertible top down. True, people walking on the sidewalk would assume he only had his shirt off. But people in other cars, especially higher SUVs and in all kinds of trucks, would notice that he was naked if they glanced down at him. Rachel was so very pleased. She was just ecstatic ... inside. "Mother, may I stop playing with my dick! PLEASE!" Robbe silently screamed in his head. As if Rachel could hear his thoughts, she looked at him with displeasure. Her "job" was to push Robbie ... continually. "What did I tell you back in the garage?" Robbie had no idea what she was referring to. "I told you to play with your dick, and don't stop until I tell you." "But ... Miss ... Miss, I am ... I don't have any ... I mean, people will see me." Robbie pleaded in a whisper, even though no one could hear him. Rachel said nothing further. She did not even look at him except to notice at a glance that he was still pumping his big fat dick. "And sit up straight! Always use good posture!" She approached an intersection where the light had just turned amber. She could have driven through it easily but slowed to let the light change to red. A tall van slowed and then stopped in her passenger side lane. It was a VW bus, and its driver had his window down. He was talking to his lady passenger. "HONK. HONK." Rachel beeped the loud horn to get the guy's attention. "Sir! Sir!" She got his attention, and he looked down at her as if to ask what she wanted. "Do you know how to get to Elm Avenue?" It was a street that she knew was some way away. "Oh, Elm, yes, I do." Then he noticed Robbie was naked in the front seat and beating his dick. Rachel pretended not to notice him, but the van driver was shocked. His passengers, a couple of kids, looked out the back windows and saw him beating off. "Oh, please, sir, don't be bothered by my son. My dear, sweet Robbie can't help himself sometimes. Just ignore him." Rachel "OK... well. Ah ... you go four or five blocks straight ahead and ... then ... you ... ah ... make a left on Main Street and then a right, two blocks after that." "So I go down here a few blocks until I get to Main Street and then turn right?" She was mixing up the instructions on purpose to keep the conversation going. The lady passenger soon stuck her headway across the driver's lap and practically pushed it out of the window. She did not miss a thing. She smiled at Robbie. "Don't be rude, dear," Rachel told Robbie, "Wave hello to the nice people with your hand that is not preoccupied." And with great embarrassment, which showed broadly across his face, he waved "hi" to the woman, the driver, and the children in the back. Rachel heard Robbie moan a couple of times with erotic humiliation, then the light changed, and they all took off. Rachel easily found her way to the freeway. She'd been to and from this town many times. They were now headed for home at a good clip. She only altered her speed when she approached a slower-moving truck. During those times, she would slow down to match its speed and pace so that Robbie was clearly in the direct downward view of each truck driver she sidled up to. Rachel would notice that each time she paced a track, Robbie would moan uncontrollably, and his body trembled as he was forced to expose and exhibit himself to strangers. Most truck drivers honked, some howled, and a few stared down. Robbie never stopped pumping his dick, though he did learn very quickly to barely touch it, or he would have caused himself to climax. It was clear to him that his climax was unacceptable behavior - at least not without permission. Few words were spoken between them; none were necessary. Robbie was so relieved to return home. When Rachel pulled into their driveway and then turned off the engine, she finally told Robbie to stop playing with his dick. They exited the car, and Robbie followed her to the door, his dick sticking right out and preceding him. As they entered the house, Jamar was there to greet them. "Jamar, may I have a photo of your slave? I'd like to show it to my friends at my women's club meeting tomorrow." Rachel was just outwardly acknowledging that Robbie belonged to her now only son. "Sure Mom, gladly." He took out his cell phone and took the photo as she posed with Robbie at the door. [This is photo is in my photo album on GayTies.com. Just log-in to this website (or join if you are not a member yet- it's free) then click on "Find Member" and type in my name, "Darkforce," then click on my photo albums. This exact photo is there. It's such a simple but powerful image. AND it is NOT the type of photo you are expecting. Let me know what you think.] He wanted to go up to his room and see what his stepdad had done to it. When they left the house that morning, he had been told that Matt would rearrange his bedroom to make it appropriate for his new sub lifestyle." Robbie went down a short hall and saw his door open. As he entered, he realized there was no door; it had been removed. Robbie wondered if his dad was going to put in a new door. Strange, he thought. He looked around and found most of his furniture missing. The chest of drawers that contained his socks, underwear, T-shirts, sweaters, etc., was gone. He turned around, and his computer desk was gone too ... as well as his computer. A small hanging cabinet with a couple of exposed shelves used to be just to the right of the desk. That was gone. He used those small shelves to plop his key, wallet, and cell phone on whenever he came home. But ... now missing were also his keys, wallet, cell phone, and other personal pocket items he kept there. His high school ring, loose change, and the key to the family mailbox ... even his good luck charm and some mints for bad breath were all gone. At least his bed was still there, but it only had a bare mattress with no sheets or blankets. He saw he still had a pillow. Thank God for small favors. In place of his desk and the other furniture that had been removed, there was a simple folding card table and one folding chair. Other than the bed, those two pieces of furniture were all he had in his room. Next to the bed used to be a tall bookcase that had held his many schoolbooks, as well as other books and magazines, but the entire case was missing. His mouth stayed open in awe as he turned further around and found that his private bathroom, which adjoined his bedroom, had also had the door removed. He could see inside that the shower curtain was also gone. Something about the word "curtain" caused him to turn back and look at his windows. His room had two large windows looking out to the houses across the street. There were no longer any curtains, pull-down shades, or anything to block the view of anyone looking into his room. Robbie stood way back, not wanting to be seen by people on the sidewalk or in the homes across the street. Jamar poked his head into Robbie's room. "Like your new digs, bro?" Robbie just stared out the window, naked, wondering what people saw from the outside. " "Let me see what you look like pressed against the window," Jamar said. "After all, you need to get used to it." With great hesitation, he walked naked to the large window, "Hey, you asshole." Jamar threw a black jockstrap, "Here, put this on first." He did. "Now, do a little dance and show all our neighbors what a pathetic exhibitionist you are." Robbie did. "Now, stand on the actual window ledge." He complied. Now, when you turn around and ass the world your ass, I want you to spread your cheeks apart so everyone can see your slave asshole." Robbie felt the total weight of zero privacy. It was sinking in, little by little. Then... as he looked out the window, a horrid thought washed over him - his car, his precious car - was that gone too? It was not in the driveway, so he looked out the window and up and down the street. Just then, Matt and Rachel entered his room and saw their Jock-strapped son in a panic. "AT EASE." Yes, that was a specific command. Robbie responded as instructed. He stripped off his jock, dropped to his knees, placed his hands on his thighs, and displayed his upward-pointing boner as if to offer a salute to anyone present. "That's right, boy," Matt said. Robbie had a confused look. His forehead was scrunched up, and he seemed ready to explode with questions. "Boy, I know you have a lot to ask. This is a huge change for you; you must understand what is happening here. So, until we change the rule, you may speak to ask questions." "Mom, Dad... I mean ... Mistress and Sir," Robbie almost exploded, "My car? Where is my car? I don't see it anywhere. I ..." "Oh, that. Let's take care of that little formality right now, just to get it out of the way." Matt was holding an envelope and pulled a form out of it. Robbie noticed it as the pink slip to his car. "Come over to your new card table-desk and sign this." Robbie stood up, confused. "You are giving your car to Jamar?" "Your brother's car has been having a lot of problems," Matt explained. "And you don't need one anymore, so ... sign here." Matt pointed to the line on which Robbie had to sign. In a daze, he signed his name. "I'm sure if you treat your brother well, he will be glad to drive you to places at times. But it is up to him, so be very nice to him. As for going to and from school, we will worry about that in a couple of months when your summer vacation ends. If we allow you to go, we'll likely just have you take the bus. But school is not a pressing issue right now." "But... but... what about my laptop? I need it for emails and the Internet, even if it's summer vacation." Robbie respectfully argued. "Actually, you don't," Matt told him. Robbie's life was becoming less and less ... ah ... human. "Nor do you need a wallet, cell phone, or any other personal items that free people commonly have. Your life just got so much easier." Robbie slumped in his naked stance and was in shock. "My car?" he whined to himself. It would take several days for him to realize just how meager and limited his new lifestyle would become. Jamar had a big smile on his face. "Mom, Dad, thank you so much for my new car!" More and more, Robbie was coming to grips with his loss of power, place, dignity, position, independence, family... everything. Robbie was slowly coming to grips with the fact that his new Black boss, his adopted brother whom he had treated so meanly in the past, was now in charge of him. "Yes, Jamar, he just signed it over to you. Here you go, honey." And Matt handed him the pink slip to his only son. Robbie interrupted his brother; he was not normally rude to him, but ... his car? "He got my car?" He said aloud. That was a little too much to take. He yielded to a burst of anger, "Jamar! Out of my room! Now!" "Hold on, boy. Whoa, calm down!" Matt said firmly, "In the first place, this is no longer your room; it's just the place where we let you sleep. You've noticed there are no doors. That's because anyone can come in here anytime they want." Matt was not yelling. He knew this transition would be difficult for Robbie, so he talked firmly but unemotionally and in a low tone. "Now, to help you out, I will give you some quiet time. But first, do you need to use the toilet to piss or shit?" Robbie said, "Both." "That's fine, just hurry it up." Robbie did not know what he meant; he was waiting for them all to leave. "Go now. We don't have all day," Matt said a little louder. Robbie went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. He was so embarrassed trying to take a shit with his family in the other room, and there was no door to the bathroom; he just sat there in a state of humiliation for a while, looking at them. Then Matt told his wife, "Honey, come here a minute, let me get your opinion." Matt, Rachel, and Jamar walked into Robbie's tiny bathroom. It was a tight fit, especially with naked Robbie on the toilet, but Matt wanted to ask Rachael what other changes should be made there. "You see, the shower curtain is down, but I've left the rod up, thinking we might want to use it for bondage for the boy, but on the other hand, it is not very strong, so I was thinking..." All of a sudden, Robbie unintentionally let out a few loud trumpeted farts in the process of taking his shit. Robbie covered his face with the palms of his hands and was turning red. He nervously shook and mumbled, "I'm so sorry, so very sorry," whining like a little boy. Then, it hit him. Whispering to himself, "I don't have anything anymore." To be continued... Oh my God! Do you have a treat coming in chapter 4. I swear, I have never written a story with more intense public humiliation than what you will read starting in the next chapter. Now... the story gets EXTREME!
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Date: Sat, 4 May 2024 18:12:30 -0700 From: gd Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 6 OMG! Are you wonder Nifty fuckers are in for a great climax! You gotta to tell me what you think. This is the concluding chapter. (And support Nifty.) Write me, Bruce Darkforce, at [email protected]. Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 6 of 6 It must have been Rachael's forethought to have the valet park the car at the farthest end of the hotel's massive parking lot. Many people were all over the lot, arriving and leaving. A valet asked for the car ticket, but Rachael waved him off, "Oh, we need the walk and the fresh air. We'll walk." And so, Rachel led her family meandering through the parking lot to show off her naked, barefoot, boned-up slave-son, wearing his safety-pin slave jewelry. "But, Miss?" Robbie interjected, "Our car is the other way. Over there, my Misstress." She ignored him. Finally, they arrived at their SUV, and into the car they went, Rachel and Matt in the front seat and Jamar and Robbie in the back. Robbie wished the safety pin would be removed, but decisions were no longer his concern. Matt started the engine, and off they went. Jamar looked at Robbie and calmly said, "I don't think you should be sitting on the seat, do you?" "Sorry, Sir," Robbie told his former brother as he crouched on the backseat floor. "Sorry, doesn't cut it. You are officially a slave to me and MY family. You know what is expected of you. I used to be your Black brother who you bossed around. Now I'm your Black Master in control of every part of you and your pitiful life. Look at me." Robbie, remembering who, or better put - what he was -- crotched on the car floor. "You know, after all you went through tonight, I thought you'd know how to treat your betters." Robbie lifted his head and looked at the Black man dressed in his beautiful royal blue tuxedo with a white shirt and a black bow tie. His hair was trimmed up in a fashionable tight Afro. He was dressed to kill. Robbie never saw his brother as handsome, but for whatever reason, he now saw Jamar as gorgeous, graceful, impressive, sophisticated, and stylish. He never saw his brother as anything more than he. But, Jamar was smart, powerful, commanding, intelligent, resourceful, confident, and of executive quality. "I must admit," Jamar said, "when all those members were putting you through your initiation, I was envious. I wanted to be there, working you over real good. I'd love to have fuck you right in front of all those socialites. Plow you good. A black man, fucking his white bitch slave. And you know what? You would have loved it. Wouldn't you." Robbie sobbed, "Yes, Master," he was so embarrassed to admit that he'd love it more than anything in the world. "Tell me, my dear sweet slave boy? Spill your guts." "Yes, Sir, I would love you to fuck your white bitch slave in front of everyone. Pound me good. Make me beg for more. The audience would applaud you louder than ever. You would be seen as the handsome Master you are. I think back on how awful I treated you when we were kids, calling you my nigger slave and teasing me and making fun of me being Black." Robbie cried and continued. "I am so fucking sorry." "I've never fucked you... yet. That's because you don't deserve to be fucked by my huge fuck stick. Boy, you'd have to go a long way down the path of complete degenerate before you get the Godly honor of me pounding your white bitch ass. Well, you have many years for you to make it up to me. Right?" "Yes, Sir, my handsome Black Master." "BITCH! That was a hint!" Matt and Rachael were listening to "their boys" and approving of all Jamar said. They were so proud of Jamar because he was becoming a fine Master. Suddenly, Jamar felt one of his shoes being unlaced and then being removed. Jamar, ignoring the insignificant white bitch on the floor, was leaning forward, focused on chit-chatting with his parents. Jamar was calmly discussing the college course he'd be taking next semester. Robbie stayed huddled in the cramped floor space and removed Jamar's sock. FUCK! He saw that beautiful, athletic foot, smooth black skin, and gorgeous big black toes. Robbie began to kiss and lick that all-powerful Master's foot. He held it preciously in both hands and made love to it. Then Jamar felt his other shoe and sock being removed. Jamar's huge, uncut dick pushed against his royal blue velvet tuxedo pants. He never wore underwear, so there was quite a bulge, which others stared at, but he ignored. And again, that wet, sexy slave tongue roamed all around that foot, too. Robbie was moaning with unbelievable pleasure. His dick was once again twitching. The boy had learned a lot in his short tenure of slavehood, including not to touch his dick. In fact, a switch had clicked in Robbie's slave brain, probably during the initiation, that he now derives no pleasure in playing with his dick. His only source of pleasure is serving his superiors, such as worshipping his Black Master's feet. Rachael, who had overheard her son's interaction with his new "upgraded" naked slave, casually spoke up, "Jamar, dear, can't you find a more interesting use for your new toy?" She giggled, "Worshipping feet is wonderful, dear, but it's just for beginners. You don't need our permission to explore your power and pleasures, sweetheart." Jamar smiled wickedly, realizing he now had carte blanche to do with Robbie anything he wanted, anytime, anywhere. That means even in the back seat of the family car, even with his parents right there! "Stop," Jamar told Robbie, who looked up in surprise, wondering what he was doing wrong. Jamar was seated in the center of the SUV's large back seat. "Stop licking and put your head down on the floorboard. Then, using your hands to balance yourself, lift your legs up so your feet are on the ceiling of the car and you're facing me, so your back is to the front of the car." Robbie was not sure what Jamar wanted, but he was trying. He was doing a handstand with his hands and the top of his head on the floor, and his long, powerful legs needed to be bent at the knees to fit upside-down like that. "OK, so far, so good." Jamar then opened the back windows fully. "Now, since your legs are so long, spread your legs like a Vee and stick each foot out at the side windows." Again, this was all new to Robbie. He wasn't resisting, but he was having trouble following directions. "Now, I'm being patient with you, boy. You must learn this new body position because anytime we are in the car, I may require you to be in it. Now, keep your head on the floor, your shoulders against the back of the front seat, and bend your ass down toward me so your lower back is like a tabletop." He tried. "That's almost it, but don't you bend your knees. Make your legs straight like steel poles, lock your knees, and push your feet out the windows further." This was quite a site! Robbie was totally naked, upside-down, with his legs thrust out of the car's back windows to just above his ankles. His sexy feet were tickled by the wind. Then Jamar pushed the power window button to close the windows, not tightly. Still, it caused Robbie's feet to be slowly lifted almost to the top of the window openings and restrained. He could not retract them into the car. The openings were now too small for his big feet to be pulled inside. It certainly was uncomfortable. "Now, you can feel how that hurts, with your feet resting on the hard edge of the window glass, right." Again, Robbie mumbled in pain. "But you can avoid the pain completely by lifting your legs to the top of the window opening. I left you a half-inch extra space. I know this will take a lot of constant muscle strength, but if you can keep your legs pressed to the top of the window opening, they will be off the painful edge of the glass." He did that immediately, "Oh, fuck! Thank you, Sir, thank you so much!" In this configuration, Robbie's ass was nicely presented to Jamar, but Jamar was not ready yet. He pushed a button, and the sunroof motor hummed and slid wide open. Then Jamar stood up. From his mid-torso up, his tuxedoed body stood proudly above the SUV. Matt realized what his son was doing, so he slowed the car and drove only 20 miles per hour so Jamar would be comfortable in the wind. Standing enabled Jamar to lower his pants. As he did, his colossal black boner sprang up like a telephone pole. Then his rigid dick was level with Robbie's asshole. The only thing is, his dick was pointing straight up. So Jamar had to push the tip down so it was aimed at Robbie's hole. "OK, you ready, boy?" "Yes, Sir" Matt and Rachael had to turn and see Robbie's new position. They could not resist. They loved it. They loved everything about Jamar's sadistic scene. Robbie got his heels to press against the top of the window frames. His naked body looked like an upside-down capital "Y." He was trembling and shivering, tensing all his muscles more than ever, but at least that would be over soon. "Such a good boy." Jamar wanted to put him at ease. "Yes. Now hold your asshole wide open for me. Try to stay till like a statue." "Yes, Sir. Please hurry, Sir. I need to cum now. I can't hold back much longer." "Of course, boy, of course." Then Jamar placed the tip of his dick against Robbie's asshole and left it there. Jamar's dick bobbed and witched against it, sending shivers throughout Robbie's body, which caused him to tremble all over. He had to use more leg strength to keep his body taught. "Oh fuck, Sir. Please just stick it in. Fuck the shit out of me, please," Robbie said impatiently. "Of course, but I'm enjoying myself." Then, Jamar slowly pushed his massive dick in only a half-inch. "Please, Sir, no need to be gentle. I can take it. Please." "Well, you don't seem like you want it." Jamar removed his dick. "I want you to open your asshole like a hungry mouth. Can you relax your asshole muscles for me?" Robbie was trying to relax his hole open. He was wiggling his hip and doing his best. Jamar lightly touched Robbie's balls, which started Robbie jerking and flailing around. Causing him to bump his ankles continuously and painfully on the hard edges of the windows. "Oh, Stop, Please! My legs hurt. Please stop touching me." "I told you, if you control yourself and keep your legs pressed to the top of the window open, you won't hurt your ankles. I'm only touching you gently. You're the one causing yourself pain." "Oh, sorry, Sir. Thank you for training me, Sir." And Robbie redoubled his efforts to keep his legs straight and up off the hard edge of the glass. "Don't you remember when you were tired with a thread in the wood posts? How you had to hold yourself still, all at your own will? So, shithead, you have already been trained to keep still, no matter what." Neither Jamar nor Robbie was aware that Matt was not driving them home. Home was only a 20-minute ride, and they had been driving for more than that. No, Rachael and Matt wanted to prolong the drive so Jamar could continue Robbie's special training. They never turned around to watch; it was just between them, but they were taking peeks in the rearview mirror. They loved what Jamar was doing. And so they drove around Hardington in their SUV, with Robbie's lovely naked feet out the back windows. "OK, now, I'm warning you. I'm going to finger your asshole as a test." But he waited. Jamar could tell Robbie tensed all his incredible, athletic muscles to avoid moving. Robbie was getting fatigued, but he had to continue. He wanted that finger, that dick, anything up, his fucking slave asshole. Then Jamar turns up the erotic torture. He gently eased one finger into Robbie's asshole, slowly. And with his other hand, he gently placed it around Robbie's big stiff dick, which was pointing downward. "Remember, don't move," Jamar said almost caringly. "Yes, Sa... Sa... Sa... Sir," Naked Robbie could barely utter with his teeth chattering. "OK, now I'm going to pump your dick quickly and hard so you can shoot. Is that what you'd like me to do?" "OH FUCK YES! Yes, Sir. Please, Sir." Robbie's mind was set to blast off, as promised. He needed to climax, get out of this agonizing position, and sit down like an average person! He was so ready to shoot and get this over with. "Or, would you prefer me to touch you lightly and softly so I can enjoy your incredible agony? Your humiliation, submissiveness, and complete capitulation?" Robbie just burst out crying. He was upside-down, belly down, his legs were held super-stiff out the windows, presenting his naked body and asshole to Master Jamar, and he was sobbing, so much so he could not speak. "Oh, God! Please, Master, please don't let me climax. I'd be so sad if I spoiled your fun. I only want to give you pleasure and be your entertainment." His body trembled as he cried, but at least he held his feet tightly to the top of the window opening. Matt and Rachael were so happy. They, too, were seeping tears of joy. They knew this training was not only for Jamar to experience being in Masterful control but for Robbie to completely accept his need for extreme humiliation, abuse, and erotic torture. Jamar, with excruciating gentleness, moved his inserted finger very slowly inside Robbie's asshole, fully in and fully out, repeatedly. At the same time, lightly rubbing Robbie's bobbing, now hair-trigger dick, slowly up and down. As his long finger descended into Robbie's hole, the other hand went from base to tip of his dick. As Jamar slowly eased his finger out of that hole, he moved his hand lightly from dick tip to dick base. His hands moved slowly up and down in unison as if connected. He did this continuously, nonstop. This type of abuse was so delicious because Robbie had to hold himself still with his legs spread wide, straight, stiff, and locked. He was forcing himself to be still so he could be properly tortured. Robbie still needed more prompting. As Jamar continued his slow, erotic torture, he asked, "Are you sure you want me to torture you? May I continue to cause you to painfully strain every muscle in your body and enjoy myself? Or would you prefer that I yank your dick quickly and give you a quick climax, ending my enjoyment? What do YOU want me to do?" Of course, Robbie knew this was not really a question, and he had no say in the matter. If he chose the quick yank, he would not get it anyway and would earn additional and worse torture. Naked, upside-down, Robbie held back his tears and said sadly, "Please, Sir, please enjoy yourself. That is... is... is... the most.... most... im...important thing for ma... ma... me." "You know? I heard you, but I am not convinced you mean it. Maybe you really do want to stop my pleasure. Are you that selfish, you shit-eating pussy cunt whore? Maybe Master Matt, Mistress Rachael, and I should let you out here in the middle of nowhere, and you can try to find some other dominators to use and abuse you. Is that what you want? Some smelly, filthy transients to own you and take you down the sewer to service them and all their friends? Hardington has lots of rift-raft scum. If you're lucky, some transients will feed you garbage." Then, to Matt, Jamar yelled, "That's it, Matt, stop the car. We need to discard and abandon this naked useless piece of trash and...." "NOOOO! FUCK NOOOO! For God's sake, PLEASE!!! Please fucking use me for all your most horrendous torture. Oh God, don't abandon ME. PLEASE, Mistress Rachael. Please, no," Robbie begged in a state of hysteria. "My dearest sweet Robbie, it's no longer up to us. You belong to your kind, wonderful brother now. Matt and I will not interfere with his decisions." "OH fuck, Master Jamar, please use me, abuse me, torture me, beat the crap out of me, fucking PLEASE!" Lucky for Jamar, Robbie believed he'd be abandoned. Now, he had another powerful tool to control him. Plus, Rachel just reinforced Jamar's authority to kick him out and leave him. Robbie was now terrified to displease his new black Master. The simple threat of abandonment would set Robbue off crying. "I fucking promise to be good, to obey, to please you, and always seek your pleasure no matter what kind of a despicable, degenerate, disgraceful public faggot-magot you train me to be. JUST PLEASE DON'T DISOWN ME! Please don't abandon me, not here, anywhere, ever. PLEASE!" And Robbie cried and cried and cried. "Well, so... you want me to torture you, then?" Jamar said in a calm, coy, "innocent" voice. "For God's sake! YES! Please. Oh yes, please. Enjoy yourself." "Well," Jamar had a change of mind. "I'm tired of fingering you. Is it OK if I fuck the shit out of you so we can both blast off?" "YES, PLEASE! YES, FUCK ME, PLEASE! I need to cum. I need to sit up. " Robbie begged, knowing he'd finally be able to climax and get right side up again like a real human being. Jamar felt it was time to give Robbie his first fuck as his new Master. So he stuck his dick inside his slave's asshole, slowly, inserted it balls deep. But he did not begin pumping his slave's asshole. Jamar asked Matt, "Would you mind driving over to and down the Ridge Lane turnoff?" Matt and Jamar were in sync. Matt knew there was no reason to drive down Ridge Lane. There was nothing there. In fact, it wasn't a paved "road." It was a dirt path used by hikers and covered in small rocks. But Matt knew the reason. In anticipation, he lowered the back windows to ease the pressure on Robbie's legs. His ankles now rested more comfortably on the smooth bottom of the window opening. Matt turned onto Ridge Lane, and the SUV immediately began to shimmy, shake, waddle, and bounce over the rocky path, even going only five miles an hour. Perfect. So, Robbie's head was on the floor. He was belly down, ass up, with his legs still spread wide and thrust out the windows. Jamar's dick was fully inserted up the boy's asshole as Jamar stood proudly, the top half of his body, through the sunroof above the car. As Matt drove slowly, bouncing around, Jamar did not move his dick in and out of his slave's asshole. Jamar stood still. BUT THE FUCKING CAR SHOOK BOTH JAMAR AND ROBBIE ALL OVER THE PLACE! The SUV was heavily jolting both boys all around. Each lad had to use tensed-up muscles to stay in place. You could say it was a fucking SUV! The shaking car caused Jamar's big stiff dick to fuck Robbie's ass, jamming it in and out, twisting their bodies all around. As Jamar's dick jerked inside Robbie like a jackhammer, Jamar would occasionally sharply slap his slave's ass cheeks, yelling, "Stay still! Relax your pussie ass muscles! Stay opened up." "OOOH FA... FA... FA... FA... FUCK! SA... SA... SA... SIR!" But how could Robbie tense his entire body to stay in place yet relax his asshole? It's impossible, and everyone knows it. That's why it's such a perfect torture! "Shit head, you're squeezing my dick with your ass to hold your position. That's not allowed. Relax your hole!" Then a very hard, "SLAP! SLAP!" He added, "Let our vehicle do all the work of vibrating your body into getting your fucking!" Matt and Rachel loved this, laughing out loud, laughing so hard they cried joyfully. It would seem that Jamar and his parents pre-planned all or some of Robbie's slave training challenges. But most of it was spontaneous. Matt was intentionally steering the SUV over the larger rocks, making the car bounce, wabble, and twist in all directions as he drove. At one point, Robbie brought his legs inside and used his legs to encircle his Master's waist. Jamar overlooked that move because it felt good to him. At least Robbie could better hold himself head down, ass up. Robbie was somewhat stable as he tried to keep his asshole open, allowing the SUV to freely bob and jerk his Master's dick inside him, stimulating him like crazy. Matt adjusted his rearview mirror to watch Jamar in action. Rachel simply swiveled in her seat to turn around and take it all in. Both could not have been more pleased. They didn't have just one son, Jamar, who was fulfilled. They had their slave boy, "dear sweat Robbie," who was all consumed by his new status as Jamar's total procession. Robbie understood little of this. He was not analyzing his new life with his head but blindly following where his heart and soul were leading him, enticing him to go. One might ask a dumb question such as, "What about Robbie's schooling? He's in college?" WHAT THE FUCK DOES A FAMILY SLAVF NEED WITH AN INTELLECTUAL EDUCATION? The only learning experience Robbie needs, he is getting right here, right now. And this goes for the rest of his life! There is no going back for Robbie. He is just beginning his "basic training." "PLEASED MAY I COME NOW? SIR? Oh fuck, I can't stop it." You see? He has not learned yet. But soon, he will come to know the answer is NOOOO! It's always NO, unless his master allows it. "Shit, I'm gonna train you to control yourself," Jamar pledged. "But for now, you may. Since you are upside down, your dick is nicely pointed down to your face. I want you to maneuver your head a bit to place it directly under your dick." It took effort, but Robbie did. "Now open your mouth to catch your load of slave snot. Got that?" Robbie did not hesitate. He twisted his head and leaned on his bent neck and shoulders with his upward-facing mouth open. His legs remained tightly around Jamar's waist. "Please fuck me hard so I can shoot, Sir?" "No, let our shaking, bouncing car do the work. Just keep your asshole relaxed and open." Matt steered into some large ruts and over larger rocks, more ruts, and potholes, jerking the boys as the car pitched right, left, and up and down. "OOOOHHH FUCK!. FUUUUUCCCCCKKKK! Robbie screamed. "CATCH IT ALL, FAGGOT PUSSY!" There was no fucking, no beating off, no pumping, no controlled in-and-out thrusting - and no hands! The SUV made them both climax! And as Jamar shot load after load into Robbie's cunt hole, Robbie repeatedly squirted his "slave snot" into his hungry mouth, catching it all and swallowing it completely. Robbie's body was wracked with painful stiffness. Jamar eased the boy's legs and hips down, lowering his body limply down to the backseat floor of the SUV. Robbie was in a daze. His head was swirling, his neck and shoulders very soar. He ended up huddled up on the floor in the fetal position. And then, on his own, pushed his face to Jamar's still bare feet. Robbie began to lick those magnificent, powerful black feet, which was the only way he knew to thank his Master and express his absolute appreciation and unconditional servitude. Matt, Rachael, and Jamar were smiling. Rachael was incredibly proud of Jamar. One might think this harsh treatment of Robbie was WAY too cruel and inhumane for their son. But Matt and Rachel knew, way back when Robbie was erotically fascinated with Matt's S and M magazines, That Robbie craved this treatment. More than that, they realized he'd never find his way into being a true sub-slave without being forced, and forced beyond his initial, meaningless shallow limits. And the proof of his needs was evident when he was pushed hard, his dick would get bigger and twitch uncontrollably. So, Matt and Rachel could read the boy's clear, screaming body language. Matt returned to the main road and drove home. Everyone was silent - except for Robbie. Robbie continually mumbled, almost inaudibly, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you..." From that day forward, Robbie worshiped Jamar. As for Matt and Rachels' "use" of slave Robbie, well... "it" really belonged to Jamar. So, they mainly watched and enjoyed their sons' interactions. Matt and Rachel had their regular S and M playmates in Hardington. Jamar had a way of torturing his new slave by stripping naked, standing there with his hard dick, and allowing Robbie to kneel before him and just sniff and smell that gorgeous man tool. But not letting him suck or even lick it. Master Jamar trained Robbie always to have his face one-quarter inch away from Jamar's boner. Robbie was so enamored with Jamar that he'd start leaking precum immediately. Not until Jamar was ready would he allow his slave to sexually worship his dick. All the other rules still applied, all the commands: 1. The WAIT command, Robbie stands with his feet three feet apart, with the required boner, thrusting his hips forward to openly display it while grasping his hands behind him just above his buttocks. 2. The AT EASE command, Robbie drops to your knees, with knees apart, hands on his thighs, and displays his boner as if to salute whoever is present. 3. Robbie is always naked in the house and yard, regardless of who is present. 4. No covering on the windows or bed. No normal furniture. 5. No doors for his bedroom or bathroom. 6. In order to take a piss or crap, Robbie needs someone present to watch. Special permission is required to have any toilet paper. Oh yeah, and one more rule, a special task for Robbie each morning: call "Wake me up." Jamar usually woke up at 8 AM, so Robbie's task was to wake himself up at 7 AM with an ear bud alarm. Then he cleared the blankets off Jama's feet and began to lick them. Not overtly, but so gently that he would not wake his Master. The boy used his tongue so lightly Jamar would stir but not wake. THAT WAS ROBBIE'S JOB! -- NOT TO WAKE HIM. Robbie would uncover more of Jamar's naked body to the waist. Since Jamar slept on his side, Robbie usually had access to his Master's balls or asshole, whichever was exposed -- sometimes both were. Robbie would lick his Master's precious parts. Again, very lightly, gently. Robbie would watch Master move his body a bit, then notice Jamar's dick slowly grow. Sometimes, his Maser would release a moan, all while still asleep. Robbie had been on this for more than a week. In that short time, Robbie had become an expert in unconscious edging. Robbie would sometimes move Jamar's leg one way or the other for better access without waking his Master. The edging continued for a full hour each morning. Only then was he allowed to cause Jamar to climax. It had to be at the "stroke of 8 AM." [I just posted this photo of Jamar being awakened by Robbie after his morning edging climax. Log-in to this website (or join if you are not a member yet- it's free) then click on "Find Member" and type in my name, "Darkforce," then click on my photo albums. It's there.] Question: Who enjoyed this wake-up edging more? I'm unsure, but my guess is that it would be our dear sweet Robbie. The End
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave-5
Date: Wed, 1 May 2024 09:22:07 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 5 Some? Many? of you want exotic stories to continue on, chapter after chapter, endlessly. But I don't do that. My stories have a beginning, a middle and an end. So enjoy them while they last. Plus read more of my stories on GayTies.com. Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 5 of 6 The Captain turned to Robbie and whispered, again, as if no one else could hear, but he was whispering into the microphone too. "So, Robbie? You make us all very proud. You know we want to bid on that underwear; hopefully, it will go for a high price. After all, this is a fundraiser. Now, and this is just between you and me, Robbie, right? You can get a lot more money if we disclose whose underwear those are. I mean, if they belonged to just some jerk on the street, we might not get even $10. They would be unimportant. Who would care? Who would bid?" "Now, if we knew the owner of these briefs was a slave whore who craved to be humiliated, degraded, abused, and publicly stripped of clothes, morals, decency, pride, worth, and dignity... that's a different story. If the owner of these briefs surrendered all self-respect and control and sought to be used by everyone in this hall, then we have some very valuable underwear. Isn't that you? You are all boned up, excited, and ready, aren't you, Robbie?" He nodded. "Isn't your only function in this world to suck dick, eat pussie, rim ass, slurp up snot, drink piss, and beg for more?" Robbie felt light-headed and dizzy from hearing those words but still nodded in agreement. "Now, then, these briefs would be worth a lot. BUT, before we start the bidding, take this mic and tell everyone here who owns these briefs." Robbie cried as loud as ever. He knew the Captain was right. Everyone in this room knew his inner truth. The only thing left was for him to admit it publicly so his underwear could achieve a very high bid. He couldn't stop crying. Everyone stood up, applauded, and cheered until Robbie calmed enough to begin to speak. The room finally felt silent. "These briefs are very valuable because they belong to a slut, to be whored out. I love to be used even though it scares me to death. I am a sicko. I am ashamed and pleased that I am a degenerate. I am nothing without your approval. I hunger to do whatever anyone wants, even for the janitors of this facility. I'll do whatever it takes to please them. I am frightened, nervous, and need to be manipulated and pulled far beyond what I am now, without my consent or approval. I am such a sorry piece of shit. My only value is to suck your dicks and learn to do it properly as you like. Please, I can learn. I beg to eat all the beautiful pussies here and suck out your warm juices. I need to lick and tongue your toes and armpits and be punished harshly for the slightest infraction. I need to be fucked hard, painfully, so you receive the most pleasure. I need to be caged, bound, spanked, and made a public spectacle. I have no wants to be fulfilled, yet I find my task in life is pleasing you, all of you, any of you. I am so terrified. I need to be terrified. I am so afraid you will give me what I crave." Robbie fell to his knees and cried. He received a standing ovation. The Captain came over to him, pulled down his zipper, took out his huge flaccid dick, and pissed all over the slave boy, his head, his face, in his open mouth, and the boy responded by accepting all that urine. He did not look away or close his mouth. He fucking loved it. When the golden shower was over, "Up you go. Now start the bidding." The Captain helped the humiliated, sobbing, piss-soaked, clad-underweared Robbie up. "There, there. Robbie, we have your last item up for bid, but I don't think everyone can see it very well. Would you like to walk from table to table and model it close up to everyone? And let people check out your boner?" Robbie just looked down at his bare piss-covered feet, whimpering like a little boy. Except he had a huge bone tenting his wet underwear. He nodded. "Well? Are you sure? Would your parents, I mean Master Matt and Mistress Rachael, need to approve? Did they not train you properly to obey anyone on command? I thought your Mistress Rachael trained you better. Or did she fail?" "Oh, God, my Captain, Mistress Rachael is perfect. She has trained me to comply. To obey, to serve all. She is the most wonderful Mistress I could ever have. Hardly a day goes by when she doesn't punish me, either because I did the wrong thing or because she just wants to show me more love. I hope I will always be allowed to serve her, Matt, my brother Master, Jamar, and anyone else." Robbie sobbed." "Yes, of course, just as I thought. Now, ask me nicely and tell all of us what you need to do." Robbie looked up, "May I please come to your tables and model my pissy jockeys for you? Please?" The Captain gestured for him to continue. "Please feel them, examine them, and see if you want to bid. I need you to want me.... I mean my Jockeys, I peed all over them, and I hope you like my pissed jockeys." Still, the Captain waited. "Also, please check out my cock. I am so embarrassed. It's getting so big; I can't control it. So please pull my underwear down and see if you like my cock. These jockeys may be more valuable because they contain a degenerated dick like mine. Well, they almost contain my dick." Some were chuckling. Robbie was then allowed to walk from table to table. Guests at one table pulled the front of his underwear out and hooked the waistband under his dick and balls, so he was walking around with his dick trusted out like a stiff pole. No one ever tucked his dick back in. Even when he returned to the Captain, his dick remained on display. "$1,000!" "$1,500!" Some Middle Eastern-looking man stood, wearing a jeweled turban and an ornate cape. "$10,000." There were no other bidders. "SOLD! To Prince Mounir for $10,000." The room erupted with cheers and applause. The Price stepped forward and stood next to Robbie. "Congratulations, Prince. We deeply appreciate your donation." He was Arabic and one of our wealthier members, but he wasn't a real Prince. It was just his club persona that everyone enjoyed. "Of course, too bad it's just his underwear. I'd happily buy and add him to my harem." Lots of laughter. The Prince pointed to his sandaled feet and stared at Robbie. The Captain whispered in Robbie's ear, and the boy immediately dropped down to his knees and kissed the Prince's exposed toes. Then, he proceeded to lick those feet all over, going beyond the whispered command. The Captain gestured for him to rise. And without asking, the Prince unhooked Robbie's underwear waistband from under the boy's balls, pulled the pee-soaked briefs down, and let them drop to the marble floor. Again, with some prompting, Robbie picked them up, bowed, extended both his hands, palms up, holding the briefs, and offered the prize to the buyer. "Oh, yes, these are nice. And at such a bargain." The Prince said as he took them. "But, oh, wait, these are really soaked and dripping." Then the Prince looked at Robbie, still kneeling, and said, "Slave boy," that was the first time he was called that to his face. "Look up to the ceiling and open your mouth as wide as possible." The boy did. The Prince held the wet mess over Robbie's mouth and twisted the material to wring out as much pee as possible. Robbie has no choice but to not resist. Too many people are watching him. He had to swallow what seemed like a half cup of his urine. "Now, slave boy, what do you say?" "Oh, thank you, kind Prince, thank you so much for using my mouth for a toilet." And then the boy sobbed. Throughout the event, Robbie had cried periodically, not because he was in pain or publicly humiliated, but because he was ashamed that he loved it. His tears were really tears of joy. "I see our degenerate slave boy's big dick has started to leak again." Everyone looked to the huge TV monitors to see the close-up of Robbie's dick bobbing and twitching. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it." Of course, this was all fabulous degradation and humiliation, which Robbie was being groomed to experience more and more on extreme levels. "Let's see. Slave boy, stand." The Prince gently rubbed the top of the tip of Robbie's vertical dick, making tiny circles and doing whatever he wanted to do to the boy. He certainly paid enough for that pleasure! Plus, it was all wild entertainment. After all, Robbie was the pre-assigned entertainment for the evening, offered by his parents, and Robbie did not disappoint! It wasn't just the Prince who was an expert at edging; edging was a major fetish of the club. It was an erotic art form they all learned in seminars, used in sex sessions, and immensely enjoyed. Still, the Prince was one of the best. As the Prince's finger lightly danced over the tip of Robbie's dick, the hanging goo-string began to lengthen, stretching toward the floor. "Spread your legs wide apart for me." Robbie complied. The Prince wanted clear access to the boy's asshole. Then the Prince touched Robbie's asshole but did not insert his finger, but rather gently scratching the ass lips with one of his nails. Robbie's body went into uncontrollable convulsions, jerking wildly. Again, the guests applauded and cheered. Robbie was jerking and twitching, but he was controlling nothing. He was merely a puppet. Others controlled his dick, his boner, his dripping, his sobbing, his body shaking... all of him. "Oh, my, everyone," the Prince announced. "Come around and see how I, and anyone of you, can control his slave's dick facet." Quite a dozen guests came around for a close-up look. "Now, as I have him dripping his slave slop, please, line up, and each of you place a shoe or boots under his dick, so a few dribbles can land on it." It was amazing. "Now, line up here so our slave can lick your shoes clean." Strings of slave slime were dripped onto various members' shoes and boots. The Prince asked Robbie, "Oh, look what you have done to all these members' fancy footwear." Robbie looked down and saw the mess he made. "Now, think hard. What do you say?" "Please, may I clean all your shoes?" There was more clapping and cheers as Robbie dropped to his knees a second time and began to lick the first member's red high-heeled shoe. He licked it all over. The next was a boot. Robbie moaned. Next was a leather street shoe, and so on. All the while, Robbie's dick remained stiff and leaking. It was also sheer erotic torture for Robbie. Remember, this was his first visit to the Overseers Club, his first experience as a submissive to so many people, both Masters and slaves. This was his first experience being stripped naked and publicly humiliated. He was afraid of what he was becoming and felt so awesome to be part of it. AND so glad that it was over. He would return to his table, sit, and eat dinner with his parents and brother. He would no longer be the center of attention and could simply relax and savor a well-deserved meal! Robbie stood there, waiting to be dismissed. Then, the Captain spoke up. "You are such a good slave boy. Are you ready to join your parents now?" "Yes, sir." "Are you sure you have been of total service? Are you sure you want to stop your initiation? You don't want to join our club?" Robbie teared up. He was so confused. He was so used up, yet his dick was still thrust upward, showing no sign of fatigue. He turned to his side and saw two burly men dressed in full leather carrying large wooden planks. Robbie stared at the commotion with trepidation. His head was slowly moving from side to side. "I mean, my dear, sweet slave boy, are you sure you want to stop our entertainment? You do realize you are our entertainment. Do you want to disappoint all these people? I mean, they paid hundreds of bucks just to see you become a member here. Do you have those thousands of dollars to refund them all?" The Captain didn't mean it, of course. It is all for intimidating effect. The members knew what all subs go through at these club initiations. Robbie was the only one in the room who believed these ominous words. That's why these initiations were always such fun entertainment. And was Robbie, naked, boned up and stunned. Robbie wanted to say `yes.' But he couldn't. He wanted to say `no.' But he couldn't. He stood there trembling and staring at the two leather Masters assembling something just a few feet away. Something he knew was intended for him! He sobbed. Everyone loved it! The Captain fully embraced the naked, boned-up boy and petted his head like he was comforting a little boy or big dog. Robbie liked being held; it was comforting, but he never broke his gaze at what was happening. He saw one plank, maybe seven feet long, lifted upright and set in some heavy-duty receptacle or hole in the marble floor. It set in with a bang. It was not going to move. Then, another post, the same size, was set into another hole in the floor with a bang. Now, these two seven-foot high, parallel uprights posts were locked in place about six feet apart. Lastly, they secured a thinner board horizontally across the two upright, about five feet off the floor. So, the configuration made an odd `H.' Robbie had no idea, but this goalpost structure had been used many times before. The floor brackets were all preset, and the board was all precut with pre-drilled holes. So, it was an easy assembly. "You've been so good. We brought you a present," the Captain said. "Step over here. Come on, touch it." The Captain had to pull Robbie's hand over to the nearest vertical plank. "Here, feel it. It's for you. Would you like to try it out?" The boy held onto the post and rubbed it to feel how sturdy it was. "These kind Masters are going to tie you to it." Robbie was shaking his head no. "OK, listen to me, they are going to tie you to it, but you get to choose with what. Rope or thread?" "Rope or thread? I'll take the thread, please," Robbie muttered. "OK, you choose the thread. Very well. And there will be no tricks. Here," and the Captain pulled out a common spool of white cotton thread from his pocket. "Here, take this." The boy did. "Pull out a foot and snap it apart with your hands." Robbie did. It broke easily. It was a common cotton sewing thread. "Now, see how easy it is to break?" "Yes, yes, it's real." Robbie felt better. In fact, he was so relaxed his dick even went semi-soft for the first time this evening. Rachael and Matt were watching and whispering back and forth. "You see, Matt, they always choose the thread. They always make that same mistake." "Yes, dear," Matt answered, smiling, "If they only knew the rope was a much safer and better choice." They both laughed. As did the members. Everyone knew the thread was the wrong thing to pick, and they all knew why. "Of course, it's just thread." The Captain told Robbie, "And when these Masters tie your spread-eagle to these posts, it will be with the thread, AND only one piece. For example, when they secure your wrist, they will not wrap it around and around and around many times. No, you'll be secured with only a single strand of common thread." Robbie now smiled. He felt even better. "So, this is OK with you, right?" "Yes, sir!" "OK, so, let me have your wrist," Robbie held it out. And true to his word, the Captain tied a single thread to it and left about two feet of thread hanging loose from that knot. He did the same with the other wrist. Just a single, easily snappable cotton thread. Robbie was glad to comply. Then, the Captain knelt and tied other threads to each ankle. Also, with a few feet dangling loose. "Now, I didn't mention your neck, but watch this," The Captain tied a thread around Robbie's neck and said, "OK, now just give that thread a yank." He did, and the thread broke easily. "OK?" Robbie agreed and was happy to continue. He knew he wasn't going to be hurt or even truly restrained. He knew no one could be seriously secured with a single thread. It was some kind of a joke, so he was happy to go along with it. "Great. Now, step to the center of the frame. Place your feet wide apart close to the base of the uprights." He did, no problem. "OK, the Masters will tie these threads to each bottom eye bracket." Now, the posts were six feet apart, and Robbie's legs were stretched out, so his feet were planted five feet wide. Hence, the extra two feet of thread are needed on each ankle to those posts. Next, the Masters tied the wrists' threads to the eye rackets at the top of the uprights. Here, Robbie's hands reached all the way to the post tops. So, he was officially tied spread-eagled. "Oh, I almost forgot. Masters, tie the neck thread to the center of the horizontal board." And they did. Whoever controlled the camera image shown on the TV screens was capturing each thread being tied and Robbie's stretched-out body. "OK, now slave boy, are you comfortable as you are secured to the bondage frame?" "Well, Sir, my feet may be spread a little too wide. I mean, they feel uncomfortable to be so over-stretched apart." Robbie complained politely. "Perfect. Then all is in order. However, I will demonstrate your problem. The threads will break if you move your hands or feet more than a fraction of an inch. Right?" "Of course, sir," Robbie smiled. "I can easily remove myself from this wood frame, easily." "To be sure you understand, let me finish my demonstration. "OK, now I am going to pinch your right nipple and do it pretty hard with my fingernails. Your job is not to move. Are you ready?" "Of course, sir." The Captain pinched his nipple hard. Robbie jerked his arm down to cover and protect his nipple. And in the process, he pulled his head down and away from the frame. He snapped the thread tied around his right wrist and the thread around his neck. And as his body twisted, he jerked his left leg, which snapped that thread. It's all a common reaction. "Masters, retie our slave with another single strand of thread to each limb and neck." As the Masters did the retying, "Now, there is one thing I forgot to mention. You must surrender your body to me or anyone else who honors you with their touch. That means you must not move a muscle, or at least not pull on the threads. I guess you could wiggle your hips a little in frustration `cause that shouldn't snap any threads. But you must not move your wrist or feet or your neck. When I touch you, you must not move, not at all. Understood?" "I... I... guess so," Robbie answered hesitantly. Robbie began to understand his predicament. Or is that his per-dick-meat? His mindset is to obey and not move, but his body may react on its own. How is he supposed to stay still? He thought some reactions were involuntary. What the fuck? "Oh, and there is one more rule I forgot to mention: if you jerk in any way that breaks the thread, we immediately toss you out. You will be banished from the club, as will your parents." "Mistress Rachael would be banned? And Master Matt? Oh fuck. Please don't do that. I will try my best not to break the thread, Sir." Jamar was thinking, "What about me? I'll be his Black Master soon, like tomorrow. I'll take charge." Jamar wanted to get back for all the teasing and degrading insults Robbie dished out years ago. Robbie was acting playfully, but Jamar took it seriously. And now, soon, very soon, Jamar would also be an owner of this white slave bitch. [There is a photo of Jarmar and Robbie, I posted in my GayTies.com profile which is the image Jamar was holding in his mind, thinking of how he would soon begin manipulating Robbie as his property, as soon as they got home. Log-in to this website (or join if you are not a member yet- it's free) then click on "Find Member" and type in my name, "Darkforce," then click on my photo albums. Jamar's though-provoking photo is there.] "Trying is not good enough," the Captain said. "You must succeed. Now, if you were wise, you would have picked the rope, so no matter how much you twisted and jerked, that rope would not break. But you chose the thread. Now, you must use all your strength and willpower to not move because no rope will hold you still. YOU must hold yourself still." "OK, let's try this one more time." The Captain began easy. He gently cupped Robbie's balls and wiggled his long, slender fingers to feather-tickle his perineum, the sensitive skin between the asshole and the balls. Robbie did jerk his hips slightly, but more importantly, he pressed the backs of his hands tightly against the wood posts so he would not be tempted to jerk them away. He curled his toes to pretend he was grabbing onto the marble floor to remind his feet not to lift up in reaction. And he pressed his neck back against the horizontal board to fight the natural instinct to jerk his head down in a recoil. A woman sitting next to Rachael tapped her arm, "Excuse me. My name is Gertrude. I don't understand why this is so different for your son. Why is everyone whispering, `he should have chosen the rope?'" Rachael smiled, so proud that her slave son was doing so well. "Gertrude, you see, when Robbie is touched, tickled, pinched, or fingernails are raked over the sensitive parts of his body, it is natural that he jerks away from the touch. I mean, if someone pokes you sharply in the belly, your body reacts instantly and `automatically' pulls away." The woman listened intently to Rachael. "Robbie is not at all secured to the posts because the thread does not count as bondage. He has to force himself to stiffen and lean back against the wood posts with every ounce of strength. He must force himself to be and stay vulnerable. How delicious! Think about it. He is willingly holding himself spread-eagle! It makes it devilishly awesome to tease his body that is free to move but dare not move." The two women laughed. "He is being threatened that if the thread breaks, he will be banned along with his folks. He believes that. Of course, nothing is further from the truth." Rachel continued, "This audience loves Robbie and loves his tears and erotic torture. One thing about Robbie's erotic nature is he has to be forced, manipulated and pushed into extreme public humiliation to be completely, erotically satisfied. He will always believe that he can't do what is being asked and can't be pushed any further, but you just watch his development over the coming months. We will embarrass and humiliate him far beyond this little demonstration." "Very good, my dear slave boy, very good. Now, let's try a bit more," The Captain then took a large safety pin, about one inches long. He opened it and held out the sharp end for Robbie to look at. Then, he touched the sharp point to Robbie's left nipple without piercing the skin. Robbie's first instinct was to use his hand to bat it away. But he is learning not to move. He knows if he breaks the thread, he and his family will all be kicked out. Such wonderful torture. Instead, Robbie just winched and moaned. "Again, very good. Let's try the other one," the Captain said, and he poked the other nipple, just pushing the point against it, not into it. Robbie's face and body tensed. You could see his torso muscles straining. He wanted to shake his head `no,' but that movement would break the thread around his neck. "I am impressed. You didn't flinch much at all. And you kept your hands against the post, willingly. Do you see why rope would have been better? If you had rope bondage, you would not have to strain so much to resist moving. OK, I want to stick this pin into your right nipple. Would that be OK?" "Ah... I... ah..." "I'll take that as a yes." Then the Captain took a little prepackaged alcohol cloth and wiped the nipple, then pushed the pinpoint into the boy's nipple, let go of it, and let it just stay stuck inside. It was only a quarter of an inch in him, but Robbie took it and moaned. Vocalizing his frustration was about the only thing he could do without breaking any threads. "I must commend Mistress Rachael. She has trained you well. And it would also be a good idea for you to express appreciation to her." Robbie was not sure what to do or say. "Well, should you thank Mistress Rachael for training you? I mean, you have a pin stabbing into you, and you are enjoying it, aren't you? You love that pain, don't you?" `Enjoying' this experience was not what Robbie was thinking. He does not understand yet that he craves this treatment. Robbie was in a daze. He hadn't noticed that his dick was once again huge, stiff, and thrust upward. He held his head up and back to prevent the thread from snapping. But the entire room, via the close-up camera view, saw the boy's nice big dick, saluting them all. "Thank you, Mistress, for training me. I love you so much. I don't deserve such kind treatment. I owe everything to you." Then Robbie sobbed in shame and embarrassment periodically during this humiliating spectacle. "You know, my dear slave, I don't know if your behavior and submission tonight are sufficient to allow you and your family to be members, but I see you are trying, the Captain told him. "That's a good sign. Just to let you know, you must encourage me to torture you. I have to feel that you are desperate to be abused by me and anyone in this room." "Sorry, Sir, for my poor performance. I'll do better." "I know you will. Now, I was thinking of taking this pin out of your right nipple ..." "Yes, please..." The TV screens showed close-ups of the boy's nipple as it was pinned. "You did let me finish. I want to take this out of your right nipple and stick it into your left nipple. But I want to push it sideways through your nipple, complete, so the point comes out the other side, and then close it. After all, it is a closeable safety pin. Would that be OK?" Robbie's dick was leaking slave slime. He was being so mind-fucked; that he did not know what to say. "I won't do that if you don't want me to. But it would give me such great pleasure and joy. So, you'll have to beg me if you want me to fasten this pin to your other nipple. I mean, slave boys should be dressed up and proper, like whore slaves, right?" "Oh, God. Please, please dress me up. I want to be a whore slave as it would please you. I want you, my Mistress, and everyone to be pleased with me. Please stick that pin through my left nipple and help me to be a proper slave for you all. I must. I need my Mistress to approve of me. I want you to train me. Oh god. Please, I beg you. Please abuse my nipples, oh, kind Sir." And he sobbed. "Well... if you insist. But... on second thought, are you worthy of being abused?" "Oh fuck! No, I am so unworthy, but please make me worthy, please use me, please do whatever the fuck you want to me. I fucking need it." "And, of course, you will not move your hands or feet? Right? You won't move your head. You know the condition that you must not break any threads. Right?' "YEEEESSSSS!" "Well, you don't have to yell about." And the audience laughed. "OK." The Captain took another prepackaged alcohol cloth and swabbed the other nipple. He then removed the pin from his right nipple and pushed it into the side of the left. And pushed it all the way through. Robbie dramatically gritted his teeth. And then closed the pin. "AHHHH, SIR, I'M GOING TO CUM! I'M SO SORRY. I'M GOING TO SHOOT." "But slave boy, you need permission to climax." "Please, please let me shoot." His body was trembling, vibrating, yet he kept his hands and feet where they were. "For god's sake, I must shoot." "I'll tell you what, we'll take a vote on the matter. OK?" "FUCKING, Please!" As if bored, the Captain calmly asked, "OK, well, all members who want to allow this innocent, kind, loving, adorable, new slave to climax, please applaud. The room was silent. Robbie bawled out loud and cried and cried. His dick twitched and bobbed, and his body shook; he was sad and so happy at the same time. "Oh, my slave boy, not a single member wishes to let you climax. But let me calm you as one Master to his slave can do." The Captain stepped close to the boy and embraced him, careful not to snap any threads. He placed his hands on Robbie's crying face and petted him to comfort him in his extreme agony. He could not stop crying and could not stop seeping precum. His body was soaked in sweat. In his sinister ways, the Captain couldn't help fondling the safety pin and thumping it with his thumb. Tweaking it. Causing louder wailing. Yet, remarkably, with tremendous effort, Robbie manages to keep his hands and feet exactly as they were. He willingly kept himself vulnerable. "There, such a happy slave boy. You love me, don't you." In short breaths, "Yes -- sir -- I -- Love -- You -- Sir" With one hand, the Captain continued to pet Robbie's head, and with the other, he now fingered the boy's crazed hair-triggered dick. "So, I suppose you want me to place another safety pin into your other nipple, don't you?" Robbie was finding it hard to speak; he wanted to just nod yes, but he knew the thread around his neck would break. So, in a horse whisper, "Yes, please." "But I'm kind of tired. I was going to go and leave you alone. Maybe come back in a few hours. You're hard to take. I mean, you keep complaining and whining, and you even have the nerve to ask the member to be allowed to climax. Wow! What a selfish slave slut you are. We are trying to do you favors and dress you up like the whore you are, and you don't seem..." Robbie was out of his fucking mind. He was crazy with need. "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME! I'M SORRY. PLEASE COMPLETE MY WHORE OUTFIT. OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T GO. I NEED YOU SO BAD. I PROMISE NOT TO SHOOT. I'LL BE GOOD. I'LL STOP WHINING AND COMPLAINING. I PROMISE. JUST DON'T LEAVE ME. I CAN'T STAND IT. OH GOD, FUCK. DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS. PLEASE LET ME PLEASE YOU TO THE FULLEST." Then, a release of tears and trembles. "Well..." The Captain paused for a long time, pretending to think it over. "OK, but the only words I want to hear out of your mouth is "Thank you, sir." "THANK YOU, SIR. THANK YOU, SIR. THANK YOU, SIR!" The Captain took another safety pin from his pocket, lined it up to the side of the right nipple, pushed it through, and closed it. "There." "Thank you, sir." Robbie was glad that was over. He was relieved. He felt he could rest. Two safety pins were there, horizontally through his nipples. So cute. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I don't think you all heard, but this slave had asked me if he could further serve in training others. I told him yes." Robbie didn't say anything, but he would have agreed if asked. Then, again, what a slave wants is of no significance. "So, who would like to help put this slave candidate in his place?" Many members raised their hands, but the Captain chose a dark-haired favorite of the club, Miguel. He was popular because he had Cerebral Palsy and was on 2 crutches. "Ah, Master Miguel. Perfect. Yes, make your way here." The audience applied 35-year-old Miguel as he struggled to approach Robbie. Here was a frail, disabled fellow, yet he was a dom. How powerful is it to be so physically weak and yet control a strong, muscular man? "Well, Mr. Miguel, see our new slave boy? What do you think of these safety pins in his nipples." The TV screens showed close-ups of the pins through each nipple. "Oh, can I play with them? Twist them and enjoy myself?" "Well, why don't you ask our slave in training." "Well?" Miguel said defiantly. "Ah, please, Master Miguel, please play with my pinned-up nipples." He roughly grabbed one nipple in each little hand and twisted them clockwise and counterclockwise. Robbie nearly blacked out. "Please, Master, I don't want to break the thread, so please be gentle." "Oh, you mean gentle like this?" Again, he twisted and pulled on each very sore nipple. Am I doing it correctly?" Miguel teased, really torturing Robbie's slightly bleeding nipples. Crippled Miguel was a bit of a masochist. He enjoyed these moments of ultimate control and power over strong men, especially well-toned, virile teen boys. Robbie was a senior in high school, fabulous in sports, and strong. Well this Master was very skinny and weighed no more than 120 pounds. AND Robbie had to surrender to his crippled up Master. "AH. OWE. Oh, YES, my Master. Yes, perfectly. OWE!" Robbie wanted to quit, pass out, or die. More than anything in the world, he simply wanted to snap the threads on his wrists to cover his nipples to protect them. "Owe, you say? Well, if I am doing it too hard, just cover your titties with your hands, and I'll let you. It's fine with me. You can cover your titties up, so I can't access them." Robbie sobbed. He sobbed at the cruelty of this little Master on crutches but could do nothing about it. "You stand there, all spread out, your hands up in the air like you are welcoming me to pull your titties off, pins and all," he giggled. "You are inviting me to have fun?" He whimpered, "Yes, my Master. Please have fun." "Well, that's a nice gesture, but I don't need your approval." Then he asked the Captain, "Do you have more pins?" Without inquiry or concern, the Caption reached into his pocket and produced another two-inch safety pin. "Here you go, Master Miguel." Master Miguel opened the one inch safety pin, and without asking for permission or any hesitation, he stabbed it through Robbie's septum where a nose ring would be inserted and quickly closed it. "OWE! FUCK! That hurts!" The camera zoomed in again at the horizontal safety pin through the nose. There was almost no blood. "Hey, slave boy, if you want to remove it, just go ahead. If you do, I won't put it back," he said coyly, trying to goat him into breaking the thread by reaching to unclasp the pin. Robbie just stayed all spread out, hands held high, protecting the single white cotton threads that "bound" him. "My, Master Miguel, you are an artist too," said the Captain. "Now he looks even more decorated. Fantastic." The audience applauded as Miguel carefully maneuvered on crutches, back to his seat. "OK folks, I think this slaved boy has had enough of me. I could continue, but I don't want to overdo my training. He needs time away from me, and I think I need a well-deserved drink!" The audience applauded and cheered the Captain's fabulous show." Robbie was so relieved. FINALLY, it was over. He'll soon be released from the wooden frame. He didn't need any help; he could just pull his limbs away from the frame and break all the threads himself. But he certainly needed permission. Soon, he'd be out of the spotlight and with his parents and brother at the table. Maybe there would still be some dessert left. So glad to be done. "What a fucking torturous day." He said to himself. But he did feel proud of himself that he never pulled on the threads. He did it. He succeeded. He was pleased and exhausted. "Correction." The Captain called out. "I thought the slave and I were both tired and needed a break, but look here." The room went quiet. Everyone looked at the huge monitors. The Captain stepped to the side of Robbie, "Look what we have here," and pointed to Robbie's big, purple angry bobbing dick, still pointed upward. "Well, I guess I only need a break. This slave boy needs a little more attention, but not from me, from all of you." There was still silence in the room as the Captain pulled something made of shiny chrome metal out of a box. He held it up. Most of you know what this is. Or at least you have seen one. It's a stainless-steel nerve testing tool. Doctors call it a pinwheel. They roll the sharp pinpoint edge to prick the skin to test the nerve reactions. I guess you can say it is for pricks." Everyone giggled. Actually, it is for pricks and balls, and nipples, and underarms, and tongues, and ears, and knees, and buttocks, and ass cracks and between the toes, fingers, and... Well, you get the idea. But I will not demonstrate this on our dear, sweet slave boy. I want groups of 10 to come up all at once. Yes, come on, 10 of you. We will see if we can prick this prick to death!" More laughter. A young, bare-chested man in a black chrome studded collar yelled, "Wait, this does not make sense. You want us to come up in groups of 10, and you have only one pinwheel?" That concern made sense. "Oops, my bad." Then the Captain smiled and puffed out his chest, foretelling a joke. He picked up the box, opened it, and showed the audience its content. It was a box full of metal prinking pinwheels. "Yes, everyone in the group gets a pricking raking tool so the entire group will rake our slave's body all over, all at the same time. His skin will be in a super state of erotic fire." The entire room erupted in applause and cheers. "We never did this before, but his victim, I mean, our dear sweet slave boy, seems to be insatiable. Look at his dick dancing... ah... prick. It certainly seems to be begging for some... ah... a prick pricking." He was so right; Robbie was in shock. He did not understand everything. His only focus was that no matter what was about to happen, he would not allow the cotton threads to break. As the first group approached, the Captain opened the box, took out a dozen metal pinwheels, and handed them out. "OK, folks, I want all of you to surround our sexed-up sex toy and roll these super-sharp pinwheels on any and every part of his body. And do notice how he is keeping his arms held high and out of our way. Obviously, he is asking us to work every inch of his body!" The first group of 10 members all took their torture tool and assembled, squeezed around Robbie, extended the arm with the pinwheel, and rolled it along his skin every which way. There was such a commotion. No one expected this group assault, but they loved it. As the Captain stood back, he watched a free-for-all happening. It was chaotic. The Captain was a leader and a true organizer and saw that some procedures were needed. "OK, folks, we need a little order here. Let's form smaller groups. I will direct you in an orderly manner. OK, now, everyone steps back. They did. Robbie felt a moment of relief. "Now, first, I want you two," pointing to a married couple up front, "to work on his dick and balls. Go ahead and begin as I continue to explain further. One of you roll your pinwheel lightly - and we all will do this lightly, at least at first - along the top of his dick, from the base to the tip, including the mushroom head. Then the other one will roll her torture tool along the underside of his dick from the tip to the base and over his balls." Again, the camera zoomed in on Robbie, this time his stiff dick. Everyone could see the pinwheels in motion, one going up one side and the other going down the other. They eagerly began trying different paths for their roller wheels. "I'll refer to you as the dick workers." "AHHHHH OOOOOH. FUCK!" Robbie couldn't take it. Little did he realize that his agony was just beginning. "OK, you two, pointing to the bare-chest, collared lad and a mistress dressed in pink, "you'll be the ass workers. Go around his backside, and you will be using your pinwheel on his buttocks, but more importantly, up and down his ass crack. You can figure out who does what or rotate, But you must also include the back side of his hanging balls. Plus, occasionally rake your tools over the full-back area. It's very sensitive there also. This is a learning session, so experiment, all of you. They began to salivate as they lightly rolled their picking tools as directed. "Now, we need a couple of chest workers." A bunch of people raised their hands. A Master and slave couple were chosen. "Great, your focus will be on his safety-pinned nipples and all over his chest. Don't forget, the belly is very sensitive too. So, take your time and see what areas cause him to tremble and shake. Remember, our dear, sweet, salve boy will need tremendous strength to allow you to prick his nipples and chest. So, at first, go gently to allow him to get used to the pricking. But, in another sense, his remaining still is his problem. If he'd only chosen the rope, he'd be free to twist and jerk all he needed to shake off pent-up stress and tension. But, as usual, slave candidates always choose the thread for their initiation. Poor boy." Robbie was getting a horse throat from gasping, moaning, crying, and mindless nonstop blubbering as they began. "OK, now, we need foot workers. OK, you two gentlemen," referring to a couple of seniors in their 70s, both masters. He gestured for them to come closer. He wanted to tell them something in secret. "Look, you have a tricky role. Each of you will be at one of his feet. Now, his feet are planted on the marble floor and are tied with threads. Forget about the rule here. You'll need to lift each foot, one at a time, and use your pinwheels. So just break the thread and go for it. But only one of you can lift only a foot at a time. So, you must look at each other. If you lift his right foot and work the pinwheel on the sole, be sure to work it lightly and between the toes. The other one works on the top of the left foot. Not. The ankle is especially sensitive. Then switch so the other lifts a foot. Go back and forth. As for the threads breaking, that was just a rouse anyway, so who the fuck cares if the threads break. They both laughed, knowing it was the same with all slave initiations. They began their delicious work. "Now, we need a couple who will perhaps create the greatest erotic torture. The underarm workers. But this includes the entire arm and hand on your side. Since you are tall, this should be great for you. Now, as I told the foot workers, he will immediately pull and snap the threads holding his wrist up. That's fine. Ignore that. But you can remind him sternly, `Keep your hands up high!' I'm sure he will try, but no one ever resisted lowering his arms. It's just human nature. Your task is most interesting because he will laugh, cry, and scream simultaneously. Interestingly, most slaves, at this point, will lose control of their bladder and begin to piss all over the place. Wonderful! Sometimes they piss a mixture of urine and cum. It's so fabulous. So awesome. And like everyone else, experiment and try different strokes on the underarms. One other common reaction is that a slave can start to mumble gibberish, and his entire body will convulse. We have a 10 of you to sort of keep him upright, but at this point, how the fuck cares? He is our dear, sweet slave doll. So, you may begin." Immediately, as they started your pinwheels on both underarms simultaneously, Robbie dropped his arms, snapping the thread, trying to close his vulnerable underarms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't. I am so sorry." Robbie went on and on. "Keep your hands up high. You want to get us in trouble? Fucking stay still!" "Sirs. I am so fucking sorry. I... I... I am so, so fucking..." The two tall, skinny teen boys could barely hold back their giggles as they pretended to be tough bastards. Robbie tried so hard to keep his arms up, but the challenge was overwhelming. His body needed to protect itself from all the pinwheel attacks, yet the Captain ordered him to obey and stay still, no matter what. He was in a state of extreme hysteria. One foot after the other was lifted, exposing his ticklish soles pricked-raked with the pinwheels. His ass crack was being rolled along and erotically tortured, as were his hanging balls, front and back. His pinned-up nipples were raked over and around, causing equal pain and pleasure. His underarms were assaulted mercilessly, being raked simultaneously with the sharp wheels on both sides. His dick was jerking as if nodding "yes," as the steel wheels rolled the length of his dick along the top and underneath. Robbie's entire body was spasming uncontrollably. His hand and feet were no longer bound by threads, but he still tried to hold his arms up and his legs wide apart. He was mumbling incoherently, and saliva was dribbling from his mouth as he emitted all sorts of low-pitched, animalistic groans and screams. Of all his reactions, the one the Captain was waiting to see was Robbie's over-excited dick begin to flow cum. Robbie's dick was not shooting loads of cum as one might have in any "normal" climax, but rather a unique, slow, and continuous flow of slave juice. Just before the 10-person pinwheel erotic torture began, the Captain had placed a bowl on the floor under Robbie's dick. And now its purpose was clear. It was there to collect that flow of cum mixed with some piss, the stream of saliva that worked its way down into the fluid receptacle, and the sweat dripping down. The Overseers Club referred to such body fluids gathered in this particular manner as the "Golden Torture Juice." Robbie was unaware of time, place, people, or purpose of anything happening to him. His eyes were open, but he was not seeing anything. His mind was foggy, and he heard nothing but unrecognizable wailing. His body was jerking, twisting, convulsing, but he had nothing to do with it. Others were controlling all aspects of his life. Robbie did not ever hear the Captain's orders, "OK, let's let the first team of 10 relax. Please keep your pinwheels as a souvenir. Have a seat and watch the work of this next team on the monitors. Now, you know what the particular pinwheel jobs are. Take fresh pinwheels from the box and choose who will begin anew on this slave's dick, ass, feet, underarms, and nipples. You saw the first group do excellent teamwork, so begin. Take your time. You also get 15 minutes before the third group takes your place." One critical step was, at the end of each team's 15-minute slave initiation session, the Captain retrieves the bowl of "Golden Torture Juice." He held it up for all to see and then brought it up to the dear, sweet slave boy's mouth. Robbie just stared meaninglessly at it. The Captain gave Robbie a huge smile as if coaxing a baby to smile back. Robbie grinned a bit. "I think you need some nutrients." Robbie slowly blinked a few times, "What do you say?" "Thank you," he slurred it down. "There you go." The Captain had to tilt Robbie's head back, letting his mouth fall open. Then the mix of cum, piss, sweat, and saliva, about half a cup, was slowly and carefully poured into Robbie's mouth. "OK, the next team may begin." By the time the third torture team finished its 15 minutes, Robbie had produced only a couple of tablespoons of Golden Torture Juice. Robbie awoke naked and groggy, lying on a red velvet mattress in the center of the floor area. His initiation was over. The monitors were showing him slowly recovering. He was being gently massaged and rubbed by serval brother slave members to calm and soothe his body, mind, and soul. They were using warm clothes to wipe his body down. Of course, they left the safety pins in his nipples and nose. It was not for them to remove those. He was allowed to sleep, which he did off and on, looking like a normal naked boy, except for the safety pins. The rest of the club members continued to conduct club business and have another round of Champagne. About an hour later, when Robbie had recovered, Rachael and Matt were called to the podium and presented with Robbie's official slave collar. It was handed to Mistress Rachael. Then, dear, sweet slave boy Robbie was called to join them. The boy just knew to bow and prostrate himself to his superiors. Rachel gestured for him to stand and present his neck. His Mistress fastened the collar around the boy's neck, securely locked with a snap. It could only be removed by the key that Rachael would keep. Robbie immediately crumbled to the floor to hug and kiss his Mistress' shoes. He became so overwhelmed with complete happiness that he burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably. Everyone applauded and cheered. Robbie was well-liked, so much so that he had a special unofficial title, "dear sweet slave boy." You might think such a prestige kink club as this would have presented a slave collar with chrome studs and a fancy embossed design. However, Robbie was at slave level one. There were four higher levels to achieve in the coming years. So, his first official collar was simply shiny black leather. It didn't even have the traditional buckle, just the snapping lock. Mistress Rachael placed the key on a gold chain hanging around her neck, displaying her most precious piece of jewelry. As we left the hall of the Grand Empress Hotel and entered the grand lobby, dozens of people were milling around, checking in, checking out, and sitting in the lobby sofas and chairs, waiting for whatever. And there came Matt, Rachael, and their son Jamar. All dressed up in high fashion. Jamar, with his royal blue velvet tux, was so sharp. If not for Robbie, Jamar would have been the center of attention as they crossed the huge lobby. But Robbie, walking behind them, was totally naked, wearing only his shiny black leather slave collar and displaying the safety pins in his nipples and nose. What a fucking hot sight! Everyone - I mean everyone -- was dressed up, most in ritzy high fashions. And slowly meandering through these classy, rich people was TOTALLY NAKED ROBBIE! He had hoped his parents would hurry up to get out to the car quickly, but not a chance. In fact, Rachael saw another friend from her women's club, Karen. So she stopped to chat. All the while, naked Robbie stood still, looking down, knowing he was NEVER allowed to place his hands over his dick to hide it. He saw his dick bobbing and dripping precum on the lobby floor of the Grand Empress Hotel. As she talked to Rachel about her upcoming vacation, Karen nonchalantly put her fingers on Robbie's twitching dick. She unconsciously and lightly rubbed the seeping slave gloo with her fingertips over its mushroom head. It's like when people talk on the phone and absentmindedly doodle nonsense on paper. Karen never broke eye contact with Rachel as they calmly chatted. A couple of times, she brought her fingers to her lips and licked them clean but then returned her fingers to Robbie's dick and continued to casually touch it. Neither Rachel nor Karen seemingly noticed Robbie's naked body trembling and shaking as he just stood with his hands to his sides. Robbie emitted a low involuntary, vibrating hum but other than his hair-triggered dick, he did not move. Various people in high-fashioned outfits would briefly interrupt Rachel to quickly greet her and then continue to or from the parking lot. In his lowest whisper, Robbie pleaded, "Misstres, I'm going to cum...I... I..." Still looking only at Rachel, Karen removed her fingers to lick them the final time, depriving Robbie of any relief. "OK, Karen, we'll talk to you later," Rachel told her as they parted ways. Finally, Robbie's public abuse and torment had ended. THANK GOD! But then... Rachel saw someone else she knew and stopped to chat with him... To be continued... FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Can't Rachel give her "son" some respite from all this extreme public humiliation? Just a few hours? I mean, look what Robbie just went through. And now she getting chatty? Now, here is where you can help. Write back and mention some slave rule that Jamar will make Robbie live by.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/a-sub-boy-learns-the-law/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/being-georges-assistant/being-georges-assistant-8
Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2024 01:16:33 +0200 From: [email protected] Subject: Being George's assistant - 8 This story was not written by me but inspired by my life by author Kyle. Plot is true but some events are embellished by Kyle. I am glad to inspire a new generation of "assistants" who are ready to accept their true self. Based on your overwhelming response and desire to know Me, My life and training, I set up an assistant on twitter(x.com/realAlphaU) to allow you to connect to Me. Please donate to Nifty that keeps all this for free: http://donate.nifty.org 8 I could not believe it. He was going to have me underfoot the whole time he was talking and having lunch with my girlfriend. I wanted to get up and give the guy a piece of my mind but his left foot tweaked my nose and I was neutralized. Minutes later Lauren showed up. "So nice to meet you Lauren, I have heard so much about you. You are absolutely gorgeous just like Kyle described." "Thank you. Nice to meet you too. By the way where is he." "Unfortunately he is out on a special assignment for me and he is probably not going to be able to make it but I have already ordered a catered lunch so we might as well go ahead and eat it." George began his interrogation of Lauren. Some how he always got the conversation to turn to me and my faults and what she did not like about me. I was furious but just as I was about to get up George's foot planted itself on my face and stayed there. " I am going on vacation next week, a cruise in fact." "Wow that is pretty exciting. I have always wanted to go on one of those." Lauren sounded intrigued. "You should come along then. I have an extra ticket. I mean just as friends. Kyle never has to know." This guy was one bold dickhead. I tried to fight but I was completely incapacitated by his foot resting on my face. I literally could do nothing about the situation. "You don't have to decide now but here is my card, give me a call. I just need someone to keep me company on this trip and you seem like such a nice person." I thought Lauren would get up and slap him for being so forward but she seemed like she had fallen under his spell as well. I could not believe it. I heard her get up to leave and I thought she was going to give it him. "It was so nice to meet you Mr. Ryan." "Call me George. Give me a call later. It will be fun." George's foot pressed down on my nose. "Oh, I will. thank you so much." The door slammed closed and George peaked under his desk. "What did you think of that bitch?" "I don't know how you could do something so awful?" "What are you talking about. You got off easy. Can you imagine what she would think if she had seen you under my desk smelling my feet. You owe me one bro. Anyhow she is going on that cruise. Maybe I will send you some pictures." He laughed at this barb and continued my torture. "Get those socks off bitch. You can lick my feet the rest of the afternoon while I handle this conference call." I did as I was told and pulled his socks off. I was licking my boss's feet again and this was even after he invited my girl on a cruise. "By the way, next week Tony is in charge of you. That guy is going to have two little bitches. What a lucky SOB." I fretted those last words. It was bad enough worrying about George putting the moves on my girl but I was sure to be under Tony's feet most of the week next week. what the hell had happened to me? After another humiliating day at the office, all I wanted to do was go home and unwind. When I got home there was a message from Lauren on my phone. She wanted to go out. That was the last thing I wanted to do but after the way she acted like a schoolgirl around George I figured I had no choice. The sad thing was that I could not even confront her about the cruise next week. It is sort of hard to admit you heard the conversation because you were under your boss's desk kissing up to his smelly feet. That probably would not fly. At dinner that night she came out with the news I dreaded hearing. She told me she was going out of town next week to visit her mom who was sick. I hoped that she would not take George's invitation but knew deep down inside that she probably would. Not only was I George's total bitch but now he was putting the moves on my girlfriend. How did my life get turned upside down like this? After dinner I was determined to change her mind with some great sex. It completely backfired. I could not get it up. Lauren looked so beautiful and I was helpless. She started to laugh at me. It made me sort of angry. Now I was determined. I am ashamed to admit this, but I thought of George. His feet to be specific. It did not take long before I was back in business. I guess the only way I was going to get an erection was to think about his stinky feet. I was sure glad he did not know that. I pictured them rubbing on my helpless face. For some reason I imagined Lauren watching him do it and laughing at me. It was getting pretty weird when I finally came. I opened my eyes and after all my trouble all she could say was "Are you finished big boy?". It was obvious she meant it in a pejorative way. She had often poked fun at my smaller than average penis and this was just another one of her barbs at my expense. All I could think about during her fun was George and his huge dick. That morning in the restroom cleaning his urinal. Him being careless and the piss that brushed my cheek. I did not do a thing. I guess I was in awe of his manhood. I actually wondered what Lauren would do if she got fucked by him. Probably would have the ride of her life. A few minutes later she got up and started dressing. She usually spent the night after we would have sex but now she made an excuse. This was not a good sign. We were probably done. I could do nothing to stop George now. He probably would do whatever he pleased to her on the cruise. I dressed and walked her to the door and tried for a goodbye kiss. She shockingly ducked away, but made it seem like just a missed connection. I was crestfallen. My life had fallen apart and it had only taken a week. The fact that I was enjoying part of it made me even sadder. That night while trying to fall asleep, all I could think about was George. What humiliation would be next? I couldn't possibly sink much lower. Admittedly my spirit was very close to being broken. I could recognize that and sure he probably knew as well. I had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be another unpleasant day for yours truly. The next day started off better than I expected. One of the executives at our branch was transferring to an office out of state. That meant a job was opening up that was more suited to my talents. George did say that being his assistant would most likely just be temporary. I just had to wait for the right moment to ask about the position. When I came in George was dozing on his couch. It was 7:30 and I could not blame him for sleeping. There was a ton of work on his desk and I guessed it was my job to start on it. It was actually sort of cool doing the work of a big shot. George had a position that I always aspired to be. Maybe with this executive position opening I would finally have my chance to make my dreams come true. I really buckled down and worked hard on the stack of paperwork. Every once and awhile I would steal a glance at George. He looked so peaceful resting on the couch. Why shouldn't he? His bitch would do his work for him. Finally at about 10 AM, he woke up. He stretched a little and immediately went to the his bathroom. No hello or how are you, just immediately went to the bathroom. I hoped he was not taking another shit. That would probably mean me wiping his ass again and kissing his butt cheeks. It was a really long piss and he finally finished up about two minutes later. When he walked out of the bathroom he finally acknowledged my presence. "Did you get most of my work done yet?" "Uh yes sir. There were quite a few things to do in that stack on your desk but I should have most of it done by noon." "Good, all I want to do is watch Sportscenter." With that he fell back on to the couch and flipped on the television. He had on his wing tips today and they had not been worn since I shined them. When the first commercial came on I took my chance. "Sir, I see Brian is leaving us. I was wondering if I might have a chance at his position?" "I don't know about that. A lot of people have been here longer than you. That probably would not be very fair. Besides, you are working pretty well in the position you're in now." "It's just that you said-" "I know what I said bitch, but things change. I have a sweet deal going too. You do most of my work and I treat you like my slave. Why would I consider giving you an executive position. No, I think you are going to be my assistant for a long long time." He just smiled when he said that. I thought for a moment about quitting right there but once again could not bring myself to do it. Instead I acquiesced. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Probably would not be fair." George smiled when he heard my response. He knew that anyone with any kind of dignity would have walked right out of the office. "Besides you love being my bitch, just admit it." I did not even hesitate with my answer. "Yes I do. I'm sorry I even bothered you with it." Once again George won another round and I was stuck being his bitch. I kept telling myself I had to find a way out but another part of me was loving how this whole thing was turning out. "By the way, I got a call from Lauren. She is coming on the cruise with me next week. We are going to have so much fun. Too bad you will be here slaving away. Then again slaving away is what you are best at. I just don't know what Tony is going to do next week with two bitches. That guy is not going to have to lift a fucking finger around here. I guess I will get to experience it when he goes on vacation next month." He was really enjoying himself as he tormented me. "I wonder what I should do with your girl on the cruise? Any ideas bitch?" I fell silent. I had nothing to say and really felt uncomfortable. "Of course you don't have any suggestions. If you did, she probably would not be fooling around behind your back." He really knew how to stick the knife in and turn it. " I think I am going to step out and take a walk around this fair city of ours. I will be back in a couple of hours for lunch. Try to have all this work done by then. I don't want to be burdened with it when I come back." I just shook my head in agreement. George smirked at me as he got up from the couch. "If Lauren calls tell her I stepped out for a few hours. I doubt she would want to talk to you. Unless of course she had a small penis joke to tell you." I could not believe Lauren told him about that. I must have turned several shades of red. George just laughed as he slammed the door to his office. The office that had become my prison. To be contributed.... Rate this story below now Connect with Me, My life and training, through My assistant on twitter(x.com/realAlphaU) Please donate to Nifty that keeps all this for free: http://donate.nifty.org
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/being-georges-assistant/being-georges-assistant-7
Date: Thu, 4 Jul 2024 17:55:03 +0200 From: [email protected] Subject: Being George's Assistant chapter 7 This story was not written by me but inspired by my life by author Kyle. Plot is true but some events are embellished by Kyle. I am glad to inspire a new generation of "assistants" who are ready to accept their true self. Based on your overwhelming response and desire to know Me, My life and training, I set up an assistant on twitter(x.com/realalphaU) to allow you to connect to Me. Please donate to Nifty that keeps all this for free: http://donate.nifty.org 7 George finally pulled his feet away and got up off the couch. "I have to take a shit. That bathroom better be flawless bitch." I heard him in the bathroom and it was pretty obvious he was letting loose. I guess the toilet would need scrubbing again on Monday morning. I yelled in to the bathroom "May I please leave sir?" "Come in here for a moment. I want to talk to you first." George sat on the toilet but it looked more like a king sitting on a throne. He started laughing when he saw the stain on the front of my pants. "Oh my, it looks like my stinky feet made you cum. Are you some kind of faggot?" "No I don't know why that happened. I have a girlfriend. I am straight." "It doesn't look like it dude. It looks like my feet make you hard. That is hilarious. You probably like the smell of them like most faggots. It's cool. I've dealt with this before. In fact it will work out well for me. Now what about this so called girlfriend." George asked with an incredulous tone. "Her name is Lauren sir. We have been seeing each other for about three years." I stammered hoping he would not push it any further. "I see, well lets see a picture." George asked as he squeezed out another turd that made a large splash. I handed him my phone. "Yeah she is nice. I usually only do 9's and 10's but she is really cute. I would fuck her in a minute." I could not believe he was telling me this. I was about to slug him when he handed me the phone back and gave me another degrading order. "I'm done bitch, wipe my ass." This completely stopped me in my tracks. The next thing I knew i was pulling toilet paper off the roll and George had shoved his ass in my face. I began wiping his ass. I had reached a new low. "I want you to invite your girlfriend to lunch on Monday. It will be fun." I doubted that but shook my head. It was hard to fathom that I was on my knees with my boss's ass in my face and I was wiping the shit from it. When I had done a good job he upped the ante. "Kiss it bitch. I want to feel your lips on both cheeks. Thank your boss for being so nice to you." The next thing I knew I was leaning in and I kissed both of George's butt cheeks. I had never felt so low or exhilarated at the same time. "Good boy. Don't forget to invite your girl to lunch. I want to meet her." I pulled his underwear and pants up and he buttoned them and left the bathroom. He yelled just as he was heading out "You might as well touch up that toilet before you leave." I heard him laugh as he walked out the door. I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life. I had kissed my boss's feet and his ass cheeks in the same day. Not to mention wiping his butt. What would I sink to next. When I got home that night Lauren had left me a message on my phone. I called and we talked for about two hours. She asked me about the job and I lied of course and told her it was great. She thought it was encouraging that the boss wanted to meet her and thought that I must be making an impact. I was making an impact all right. Not in the way she thought. We agreed to hang out the next day since we had not seen each other in about a week. Monday rolled around to quickly. When I got to work George had me look over his notes for a meeting we were having at 8AM. All the executive leads, myself, and George headed into the conference room. I was there to take notes. How fun. George got up and talked to start the meeting. Surprisingly, I had not thought much about his feet since Saturday and even vowed to myself that I would not be degraded by him again. No job was worth what I had been put through. George sat down after his presentation and others now got up to speak and present. It was a pretty boring meeting and my mind started to wonder. I looked over and George had one of his loafers hanging off his foot. He was wearing black OTC's and I immediately got a little hard looking at them. I was not the only one that was catching a glance. Ryan was also staring at them. George caught him glancing at his dangling foot and shot him that wicked smile. Ryan looked down. He was obviously embarrassed. "I saw you staring at my foot during the meeting. You are addicted to my feet aren't you? You sort of have to have them don't you? Don't worry bitch I have plans for you." I did not like the tone he took. I knew this could not end well and now I dreaded what was going to happen even more with Lauren swinging by the office for lunch. The rest of the morning was occupied with paperwork. Of course George chilled out on the love seat watching Sportscenter. The guy sure did have it made. At about 11 he told me he had some people to meet with and that he needed to air his feet out a bit. "Why don't you get under my desk bitch. I need my feet taken care of while I handle this business.? Not really knowing what was going to happen next I got under the desk. Why was I powerless around him? "Lay on your back bitch." I laid on my back and George plopped his feet on my chest. Take my shoes off and don't make a sound. George did some paperwork for awhile. I decided to make myself useful and i gave him a nice massage. I then heard somebody enter the room. "Ryan, have a seat." George must be having Ryan in for a conference. "Ryan, the reason I called you in here is because you really have not been performing up to the standards I expect. I don't want to let you go but I am afraid I will have to demote you if you would like to continue working here." "I'm sorry George. What kind of job would I be doing from now on?" Ryan asked. actually I was sort of interested to hear the answer to that. "Well, you know Tony right?" "Sure we are both executives." "Well you would become his personal assistant." "I want to keep my job but that seems like quite a demotion." "It is quite a decrease in pay. I'll grant you that. The work is very demanding as well but these are tough times and I am afraid that it might be hard to find a job in this economic climate. Plus, your performance around here really does not permit me to give you a good reference. So the situation is take your new job or be in the unemployment line for quite awhile." George had laid out a bleak situation. Ryan was quiet for minute. "I guess since you put it that way, I will take the new job." "Great I thought you might. Do you mind if I call your new supervisor in?" "I guess not." "Tony this is George. He said yes. Yeah, come on in and meet your new assistant." It did not take Tony long to waltz in. I just imagined he had that arrogant smile on his face. He congratulated Ryan on his new position (demotion) and told him he had a long list of things for him to work on. I wish I could have seen the look on poor Ryan's face. It was obvious that Tony was going to treat him like a dog. He had learned from the best. After they left George peaked under his desk. "How did you like that?" "I don't know. It is what it is." "At least you have a colleague on your own level." He chuckled at this. "I think your girl is coming in soon. You unfortunately will not be joining us for lunch I like you right where you are." To be contributed.... Rate this story below now Connect with Me, My life and training, through My assistant on twitter(x.com/realalphaU) Please donate to Nifty that keeps all this for free: http://donate.nifty.org
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave-1
Date: Tue, 23 Apr 2024 10:25:27 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 1 I have posted stories under "Incest" and "Adult-youth." But my favorite category is... "Authoritarian." Here is a story where a straight couple adopted two young boys. The first was a white boy, Robbie, and the second was a black boy, Jamar. In our prejudicial society, many think of whites as being more powerful than blacks. However, in this family, Matt and Rachel found Jamar more mature, serious about life and school, and able to handle more responsibility. So, which brother do you think will be the most dominant one? Who do you think will end up being the slave to the other? To the family? Many of my stories are too intense to be posted here on Nifty, so they are posted on GayTies.com. (You have to sign up there, but it's free.) But Nifty is also an important site; I hope you donate to it. Just to warn you, this story is steeped in public humiliation, public exhibitionism, erotic pain, CFNM, CMNM, incest, and extreme embarrassment. Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 1 of 6 Robbie's main Saturday chore was to clean out the hall closet, sort out many items the family was just no longer using, and store them in the garage. He found one sealed, unmarked box while going through the shelves jammed with all sorts of stuff. He opened it. Surprisingly, he found it filled with a small stack of S and M magazines. He surmised that this must be his dad, Matt's, stuff. He felt sure it had nothing to do with his mom, Rachel; that just seemed too weird. He thought that S and M is more of a guy thing as he thumbed through the photos in the magazines, finding them very intriguing. To back up one step, Rachel and Matt were his adoptive parents. They were middle-class white people. Robbie was only an infant when they adopted him. Eight years later, they adopted another son, Jamar. He was eight. So now Robbie had a brother the same age as him. One big difference was that Jamar was black. Jamar's parents had died in a car accident, and Rachel had known them well, so she'd wanted to adopt their only child. So, cute Robbie then had a brother who entered "his" family when he was just a kid. Robbie was not a racist; he did not dislike anyone, regardless of color or anything else. But, after being the sole child and the center of attention for the first eight years of his life, he now had to share many things, including his parents' attention. And, as kids can do, especially boys, he would tease Jamar and embarrass him as he played harsh jokes on his new brother. He even went so far as to introduce him (to his peers) as his nigger slave brother. That hurt Jamar the most. This continued for years until it wore off with Robbie; he grew out of it when he entered his middle teen years. Now, as an 18-year-old, he was far beyond all that harassing sibling rivalry. He had forgotten all about doing that mean stuff to his brother. This photo shows Robbie and Jamar about the time they graduated high school. It was when Robbie thought all the childhood and childish issues were behind them. At 18 years old, he was far beyond all that harassing sibling rivalry. He had pretty much forgotten all about doing that mean stuff to Jamar. However, Jamar was not past it at all. His being a sensitive black child and feeling insecure in his new white family made him feel like he came in second with his folks, which was not true. He suppressed his feelings of resentment toward his brother. So here they were, both eighteen; they did refer to each other as brothers, but Robbie and Jamar were never close. They just acted cordial, with Jamar doing most of the "acting." Back to Robbie's kinky find, the box also contained some leather cuffs, a dog collar, a chain collar, wooden clothespins, and a few other items. He looked more carefully at more of the magazine articles, especially the photos. There were images of men and women tied up in restraints, and he became engrossed in those. More than that, he was getting a hard-on from all he was seeing, reading, and thinking. He picked up the chain collar and fastened the dog collar around his neck, as he saw in some of the photos. He closed his eyes and was fantasizing about what this all meant. He yanked on the crotch material of his pants again, seeming to make room for his dick to expand. It was all so new and exciting to him, not to mention erotic. He was more than a little lightheaded. There were a few items for which he did not know their use. He tried to match stuff up to the photos in the magazine, but some of the items were not shown. One of the photos he saw showed a young man on his hands and knees wearing clothespins on his nipples. Robbie also could not resist trying those out, so he placed them on his nipples. At first, they hurt a lot, but in a short while, he felt the pain replaced by an erotic sensation. Not wanting to be caught by his folks or his brother looking at the erotic magazines and the other S and M stuff, he packed them back in the same box and pushed them all the way back on the shelf. Putting some other stuff in front of that box. He quickly returned to his room. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions, but he tried to put them out of his consciousness and get on with his college homework. But he also sneaked back into that closet box many times over the next couple of weeks to check out more items in the privacy of nighttime. He drooled over these treasures, trying everything on, at least those things, he could figure out what they might be used for. Robbie did not realize that his dad had seen him from around the corner of the hallway, looking at the kinky magazines. It was about two weeks after Robbie first found the kinky "treasure chest." Matt was both surprised and curious about his son. It was not that Matt wanted to intrude on his son's privacy. Still, he very much wanted to know of any reactions Robbie had, positive or negative. He saw his son flipping through the pages, fingering the dog collar he was wearing, and even noticed him occasionally pulling on the groin of his underwear. Matt quietly left Robbie there to enjoy himself in secret and went to talk to his wife to discuss with her what he had just seen. They needed to explain one thing or another to Robbie and determine what to do about it. Those S and M magazines were not Matt's alone. They belonged to Matt AND Rachel. They were both into kink and were even members of an extreme S and M club that met once a month, but they had kept this a secret from their two kids. They had told Jamar a year ago simply because he was a lot more street-smart than his brother, and they thought he could handle it just fine. He had been okay with it. Even though Robbie was the same age, they had always considered him a little more needy and sensitive. So, they had not told him. It was just the way they had read the situation. That night, 18-year-old Robbie thought he was dreaming as he lay under a single sheet in his bed. He thought he felt something pulling at his arm. As he rolled onto his back, his eyes were met by the brightness of the table lamp bursting into life. He blinked his sleepiness away and pushed himself up the bed to rest his upper back against the cast iron scrolled bedhead. Focused now, he saw and felt Matt, his stepdad, sit on the edge of his bed. "What's the matter, dad?" he asked. "I think we need to talk about something, Robbie," Matt said with concern. "I had wondered when, or even if, the time would come for us to have this conversation. You are a smart kid, good at many things - sports, making friends, and you're good-looking to top it all. We, Rachel and I, trust you and hope you trust us. That's why I have decided to tell you something you might find, well ... weird. Ever since I became your father, your mother and I have kept some secrets from you. As adults, we are entitled to them, and now that you are 18, you are entitled to know the truth. You know Rachel and I love you and Jamar like any mom and dad loves their kids, but recent events have been brought to my attention that required mom and me to let you in on our big secret." Matt spoke in a low, curious tone. Robbie was taken aback when he felt his dad's hand move to rest on the thin sheet covering his thigh and gently squeeze it. Matt went on. "Your mom and I have noticed something that causes us to know more about you." He picked up a small black leather bag and unzipped it. To Robbie's surprise, Matt removed a chain dog collar and placed it directly on the bed in the sheet-formed valley between Robbie's wide outstretched legs. Matt leaned forward to stare at the opened collar of the boy's pajama jacket and slowly unbuttoned it all the way down. "Robbie, what are these strange marks on your neck?" He asked as if he had no idea. "They look familiar to me." He laid open the pajama top, baring Robbie's well-toned upper body. Robbie's abdomen twitched as he picked up the chain links. He watched Matt place the cold steel over the marks on his neck, matching the pattern. The cool chain slid down and rested on his navel when Matt released it. Again, Matt reached into the bag. Robbie's pulse raced when he saw the leather dog collar emerge. It looked like the one he had seen in the box. Matt told him to sit up as he now pulled Robbie's top off completely and discarded it on the bedroom floor. The boy's upper body was now naked and face-to-face with his dad. Raising the collar to Robbie's neck, he matched the marks on his neck exactly the width of the leather collar. He matched the point where the buckle had left its indentation. He placed a hand on Robbie's chest and pushed him back onto the pillows. Again, Matt's hand dipped into the leather bag. Robbie was aghast now seeing his dad now holding up two clothespins in his hand. The red marks around Robbie's nipples matched the wood peg clothespins exactly. He did not need to place them on his son to tell. "Dad? ... I ... I ..." Robbie was stopped in mid-sentence by Matt's raised hand. "Mom brought this to my attention this morning, Robbie." Matt held up a pair of Robbie's white underpants. "She said that she had always noticed small dry stains on your underpants and felt it was just piss dribbles. But yesterday, when she was doing laundry, she felt the sticky, wet cum-soaked crotch of your underwear. She was more than curious and showed me." At this point, Robbie wanted a large hole to appear and swallow him up. Robbie recalled that he had not wiped his cock clean in his frenzy to get back to his room. Matt carefully placed them on the boy's shoulder just so Robbie could smell them as Matt continued to discuss what he needed to do. "Tell me, son, did you take one of my magazines out of the box in the hall closet to keep it? You don't need to lie. Since your mom and I bought new kink toys a few years ago, we forgot all about that box of sex play stuff. Did you use some of that kink stuff to beat off boy? I saw your splashes on the mirror yesterday." Robbie felt humiliated and wriggled further up the bed until the white cord around the waist of his pajama bottoms became visible. His movement also pushed the pillows up further. That exposed the corner of the magazine Matt was asking about. Matt grabbed the corner and pulled it out from behind the pillow. Robbie's eyes welled up with tears of embarrassment as he began blurting out his innermost thoughts to Matt. How he knew he had feelings about things and how unsure he was about them. How he was confused. He said that he was sorry for taking the magazine and touching all his parents' stuff. How he knew what he wanted but had nowhere to turn for advice. He sobbed as Matt placed a hand on his chest and rubbed it to console him. Matt was, of course, not at all upset. Then he brushed away the tears from Robbie's eyes with windshield wiper motions of his thumb. He knew the agony and possible ecstasy that Robbie was going through. Matt produced a magazine. One he knew Robbie had never seen. Placing it in the boy's lap, he began to turn the pages. The shots in this magazine were of young men in extreme bondage, humiliation, and torture. As Matt turned the pages slowly, he sincerely asked Robbie, "Is this what you want?" Robbie was sobbing. Without further thought, he said, "Yes. I don't know why ... I just feel it calls to me. It stirs up emotions deep inside me. I don't understand it, dad." Robbie spoke between sobs. For another fifteen minutes, Matt threw all kinds of questions at Robbie. It may have seemed harsh and insensitive, but Matted needed to know, there and then, what his boy wanted, at least as far as he could understand. Robbie soon stopped sobbing. He had opened up to Matt and told him in detail how he had found the S and M stuff and the magazines and borrowed one to copy some of the photos. He had explained that he beat off to the pictures and stories but intended to clean them up so no one would know what he had done. But he had forgotten. "If you want what you think you want and can prove it to us by next Tuesday, we will do everything we can to help you." Robbie returned a half-crying smile to his dad. "The fact that we are not your natural parents makes it okay and easier for us. We have friends who will also be helping you and us. Think now, before you answer. If you are certain this is the road you want to take, just say, `I submit to you.' Because, from that point on, there will be no turning back - unless you want to give up -- and, at which point, should it occur, you will have to leave here. You will have to leave your home. This is all or nothing." Matt stated very firmly. It seemed an age before Robbie responded with considerable thought. He raised his knees up to his chest. Then he straightened them back down the bed, pushing the sheet off himself with his bare feet. He closed his eyes tight, then spoke solemnly. "I submit to you." And again, this time with more conviction and determination as he looked his dad in the eyes. "I submit to you, Matt." Matt's smile back was reassuring. Now, it seemed more appropriate for Robbie to call him Matt only instead of sometimes calling him Dad. Robbie was made to stand up while Matt stripped away all his bedding, leaving only the mattress on the cast iron frame. Matt turned his attention to Robbie after wrapping all the bedding and pillows into a bundle and throwing it outside the bedroom door. "Give me your pajamas," Matt commanded. Robbie picked up the top from the floor, handed it to him, and then pulled at the drawcord on his pajama bottoms, which caused them to fall and puddle around his ankles. Robbie stood there in only his white underpants. Since Robbie had become aware of his developing body, and as he was also a naturally shy boy, he never let anyone at home see him undressed or even in just his underwear. He had wandered from the bathroom to his room and sometimes downstairs with a towel wrapped around him. However, that was as far as he dared to reveal his well-toned body to Matt, his mom, or even his brother, Jamar. Matt put out his hand, and Robbie knew to pick up his bottoms and hand them to him, which Matt also tossed out the door into the hallway. He now firmly guided Robbie onto the bare mattress, reached into the leather bag, and pulled out four pieces of rope. Robbie's ankles and wrists were secured to each corner of the bed frame. Lastly, he peeled off an eight-inch strip of black duct tape and placed it over Robbie's mouth. Matt took the several copies of magazine photos that Robbie had made for himself and scotch-taped them to the wall near his head so he could see them. After all, Matt assumed that since Robbie had chosen them to copy and beat off to, they must be his favorites. Now Robbie could enjoy them all he wanted -- except beating off to them was now impossible. The warm summer night air invaded the room as Matt opened the windows. He gave the tied-down boy one final glance as he shut the door behind him. Robbie felt the caress of the night air on his body as he drifted into sleep, staring at the pictures on the wall and contemplating his destiny. He could just make out the time as he twisted his head around to focus on the clock on the bedside table. 5:10 AM. The sun was up, and the cold early morning air filled the bedroom. All became apparent to Robbie as he saw the pictures again before him. Lifting his head, he looked down at his body. His eyes fell upon the usual early morning erection pressed against the inside of the scant white underwear that was his only covering now. However, on this occasion, there would be no free hand to relieve the pressure built up in his rigid cock and swollen balls. He hoped it would go down before his dad entered his room. His mind raced as he recalled his statement to Matt about submitting to him. Since he could not touch his dick and was now desperate to climax, he wondered if he had made the correct decision. Matt and Rachel had had a restless night after falling asleep in mid-discussion. It was 5:30 AM when Robbie's bedroom door opened. Matt entered wearing only his blue pajama bottoms. He was quite youthful and moderately toned. His thick jet-black hair and dark eyes complimented the mustache he had grown recently. Robbie was about to speak when Matt held a finger up to stop him. "You will speak only when asked a question or when you wish to indicate that you cannot comply with an instruction. You have a lot to learn, so you had better concentrate on listening. When you do say "yes" or "no," you will look the person directly in the eyes and always end with a firm "Sir" or "Miss," irrespective of age or relationship. Do you understand?" Robbie could only reply with a nod. "When you are untied, come down to the kitchen." Matt turned and left the room, leaving the door open and Robbie tied up. That was strange, he thought. Robbie wondered what he was supposed to do. He fell asleep thinking about what would happen to him now that his choice was to go all in ... or leave his home. Then came his brother Jamar, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes. He went over to his brother, who was tied up spread-eagle and gagged, and sat on the side of his bed. "Dad wants me to untie you so you can go down for breakfast. Is that okay with you, Robbie?" He spoke kindly but with a hint of an evil grin. He was stunned at how Jamar looked at his underwear and thankful that his erection had mostly subsided. Robbie had always been too shy to willingly let his brother see him in underwear, let alone naked. Jamar pretended not to notice his white brother's nervousness and discomfort. He knew Robbie was totally embarrassed and humiliated lying there, tied hands and ankles to the frame of his bed. Feeling a sense of superiority over his "bro," he asked again, "You ready to be untied?" Too embarrassed to speak, Robbie could only nod. Jamar did not move. He was waiting to be addressed appropriately. But Robbie said nothing. He still had the black tape over his mouth. "Okay, then. I'll see you later." Jamar insensitively ripped the black tape off his lips. "Owe!" -- and got up and started to walk to the door to leave him there. "No, wait. Please, Jamar, please untie me. I'm your brother." Jamar looked back, stared at his very "white" brother, and proceeded to leave again, not hearing what he wanted. Robbie blurted out, "Sir, please, sir. Please untie me, Mr. Jamar." Robbie was in tears as Jamar returned to him and sat on the edge of his bed again. "That was not too difficult, Robbie, was it? To show your superior brother the necessary respect?" Robbie was just quietly sobbing. "You must stop calling me Jamar. To you, I'm Mr. Jamar or sir. You got that straight?" Jamar spoke calmly; he did not need to yell. He had the power, and he knew it, and so did Robbie. But Robbie did not realize until now that Jamar was part of his group of controllers. Just as soon as he realized it, he knew he did not like it. "Yes, Mr. Jamar, I will always show you respect, sir." He said as he sobbed a bit more. Hearing that submissive tone. It was like a switch flipping in Jamar's brain. He flashed a big smile. "Won't we have fun from now on?" Robbie was going to answer, but then Jamar rested his hand on Robbie's chest. Both he and Jamar were straight. So, he worried he might start getting sexual with him. "My, your heart is beating fast! You must be so excited to see me. You love your wonderful Black brother, don't you?" Robbie nodded in a daze. "You just discovered the secret Mom and Dad kept from you. They told me about their S and M group two years ago. But they thought their little white, innocent, shy son could not handle knowing that secret. So here you are in your little white undies. You are so white. Everything is white about you: your skin, your underwear, the way you behave. No wonder you need a strong black brother to take care of you. Teach you stuff, train you." Robbie stopped crying. He wanted to hear every word Jamar was saying. He wanted to know everything that was in store for him. Jamar pinched his left nipple, and Robbie moaned. "Yes, all of a sudden, things are so right." Jamar smiled broadly. I will untie you soon, and then we can both go downstairs to see mom and dad while you are still in your little white undies." Robbie slowly shook his head `no' but knew it meant nothing. Jamar was not even paying attention to his tacit communication. "Mom and I have never seen you in your undies. Maybe she'll like you this way." He slowly teased his hand down Robbie's tummy and tickled his belly button nonchalantly as he spoke. "I mean, it will be so nice having a hunky white stud around to do chores for me, serve me, and even entertain my friends. Don't you think?" Robbie was not listening. He released a moan as he took in the erotic touches Jamar was giving his belly ever so lightly. There he was, stripped to his white Jockey underwear, still tied to his bed frame, and fondled by his Black brother. Jamar thought that the best power he could exert now was for their mom to see Robbie in his underwear and with a huge boner inside it. So, he gently moved his hand to his underwear and rested it lightly on him so his fingers touched his hip bone. He took his time, talking hum-drum stuff that Robbie could not concentrate upon with all the erotic teasing he was receiving, as he "unconsciously" wiggled his fingers and tickled his hip bone. Robbie's dick was almost fully expanded, stretching the material of his underwear once again. Since his dick was positioned in his underpants, pointing up his belly, the tip of it was trying to poke out from under the elastic waistband. So far, the band has barely succeeded in holding it in. As Jamar continued his nothing words and absentmindedly fondled his brother's underwear, his dick became fully erect. Not only that, but it lifted off his belly about an inch, raising his underwear waistband in the process. To further embarrass Robbie, he overtly stared into his brother's now open tent, held open by his tent-pole-like throbbing dick. "Oh, Robbie. I may be your superior, but I am still your brother. So ... I don't understand why you are obscenely pushing your briefs wide open. Is it because you want me to see your big dick?" Robbie was just starting to answer that he wanted nothing of the kind, but before he could say so, Jamar continued. "Well, obviously. I mean, it would be rude and unacceptable if you refused my permission to see your dick. That is laughable. So ... you want me to see your dick because it is mine to see?" Robbie was floored. He nodded yes, thinking that that fitted with his brother's desires. Jamar never touched his bobbing dick; he only stared at it as if it was begging for a touch. "You probably want me to fondle it for you too. I mean, you're still all tied up, and your dick is so hard. Why, it's stretching your undies so wide, it's gonna tear them apart!" Robbie's face was red with humiliation. "Oh, silly! You are such a dumb ass, dufus! It's nice that you are presenting your man-pole to me for my inspection and approval, but don't you think Mom and Dad should see it first?" Robbie just shuddered in fear and looked at him with bulging eyes. "I wonder if you need to pee first." Robbie nodded excitedly to indicate yes, but Jamar was not looking at his head - just his stretched-out underwear. Of course, he knew his brother needed his morning pee, but why be so generous and comforting? It was Jamar's time to bask in the glow of his new power and superiority, and he was enjoying it now. This was his revenge for all Robbie's nigger slave jokes of so many years ago. Jokes that Robbie forgot and was part of his past, but hurtful jokes Jamar NEVER forgot. So, without looking at Robbie's face, he lightly touched his brother's twitching dick. It was not enough to make it shoot, just enough to ensure it was at full attention before they went downstairs for Robbie's... "show and tell." "I know you are not allowed to ask a question. That's Dad's rule, so I could just ask you and let you answer, or ... I can decide for you so you are not burdened with the need to think for yourself. So ... I think you are fine not peeing, and we can just go down to breakfast. First, though, I need to pee." Jamar left his tied-up, all-boned-up brother and went into his adjoining bathroom. Robbie could hear a long piss and a flush, then Jamar returned, carrying Robbie's bathroom glass with a tiny amount of yellow liquid. "Here you go, Robbie, I saved a bit of my precious fluid just for you. Your underwear is way too white." Then Jamar dribbled the small amount of pee over his brother's underwear, making a pee stain that spread to cover the full front panel of his Jockeys. How clearly his hardened dick could be seen right through the growing yellow wet fabric. "If you tell anyone I did this to you, I will have your ass, and you will strongly regret challenging me. Instead, be the good little stud bro, and fess up to wetting your pants. OK, bro?" Robbie knew how this was going to go. He just nodded yes. Jamar smiled broadly. He finally untied Robbie and started getting up off his bed. Jamar, for the first time, actually yelled at him, "Who the fuck said you can get up?! You fucking idiot! Who do you think you are to move at all without my permission?!" Although he had been untied, Robbie immediately replaced his hands and feet at the bed's four corners as if he were still tied. So, he waited for permission to get up. Jamar wanted Robbie's dick as hard as a steel pole before taking him downstairs to his folks. So, he lightly touched every erotic zone on his brother's body and tickled and teased him until he was constantly moaning. He was untied yet had to stay spread-eagle as his black brother tickled and erotically teased him to near climax. Jamar, proud of his work, told Robbie, "Let's go down to the kitchen and meet my folks. Remember to keep your hands behind you." Dutifully, he moved through the doorway ahead of Jamar and went down the stairs with his bouncing, pointing dick leading the way as he told Robbie that Matt and Rachel were "his" parents now and not "their" parents any longer. How odd that felt to him. Jamar pushed ahead of him and entered the kitchen first. Then Robbie entered. He saw Rachel, his mom, with her back to him. Matt was sitting at the table having coffee. Matt called his wife, and she turned. Robbie flushed red as he now stood before his mother, almost naked. He watched, intensely embarrassed, as her eyes fell directly to his very noticeable pole-like boner, pushing his briefs out away from his body. Jamar took a seat and just acted innocently. Then Rachel sat down next to Matt. They were both extremely pleased to see Robbie with a boner and assumed it was his own making. Even though Jamar had something to do with it, Robbie was erotically excited to be humiliated like this. The coffee smelled good, as did the aroma of the toast that had been cooked. Matt pointed to the floor, indicating that Robbie should move to that spot. He now stood beside the table so that his still trapped erection projected over the table edge. "Stand tall and place your hands behind your head," Matt commanded. Robbie obeyed. "Come stand next to me, boy," Rachel commanded. "What is that inside your underpants?" His belly drew tighter as she reached out and stroked the fine hair that ran from his belly button down and inside the waistband of his pants. "Miss, my ... my ..." Robbie stammered and shuddered. This was his mom he was talking to. She was the one he had always confided in. She had cleaned and cooked for him, kissed him on birthdays, and anytime he needed to be consoled. She had played and laughed with him, and now he had learned that she had been checking his soiled underwear and plotting his future. He stammered more as he said, "My... my ... cock, Miss." She asked if that was all as she pushed a sharp fingernail into his belly button. Looking straight into her eyes, he replied, "And my balls, Miss." "Tell me, what is inside your balls, boy?" "Semen, Miss." She replied. "Don't you mean boy cum?" Robbie politely nodded in agreement. "Say it. Say I have boy cum in my balls." He repeated it word for word. If anyone was a mistress of humiliation, it was her. She and Matt had participated in their secret S and M club for years. But Robbie had yet to come to grips with that idea or that lifestyle. It caused Robbie's dick to bob. Matt and Rachel loved his reaction. They were going to work things out just fine. "And what is this? All this yellow wet stuff all over your underwear, boy?" She chided him. "Miss, I peed myself this morning. I am so sorry. But I peed all over myself," Robbie whimpered in intense embarrassment. Both Rachel and Matt noticed that his dick remained erect. They knew he needed this treatment. They ignored that comment. "Are you hungry?" Matt asked. Robbie responded positively. Taking a piece of toast, his father threw it to the floor, telling the boy to eat. Falling to the floor, Robbie ate the toast almost like a hamster. He was then asked if he was thirsty. "Yes, please, sir." Begged Robbie. The water was cold as Matt emptied the jug's contents over the kneeling boy's head. Rachel smiled as it ran down his naked torso and soaked into his white underpants, revealing the outline of his pink bubble butt. It now showed his flesh color right through it. Rachel instructed him to stand up against the table with his thighs touching the table edge. "Now," she said, "put your hand inside your underpants and tell me what you find. And then describe it." Robbie put his right hand into his briefs. "Well?" she said. "I am holding my ... my ... cock." He stammered out its dimensions to her and said it was a cut dick. Then Rachel asked him what else he had in there. She watched his hand push down further. "I am holding my balls, Miss." She wanted him to describe those, too. She made him fondle himself even more by asking which side the largest one was on, and she was delighted in watching him squeeze himself to find the answer. Robbie had never felt so much humiliation. Jamar sat quietly and took it all in. He knew he would have many, many opportunities to dominate his white "slave" brother. "Rachel?" Matt asked, "Did you say you had not seen Robbie's cock and balls since he was a toddler?" She nodded. "Well, do you think they are like he just described?" She said she wasn't sure and couldn't recall having seen Robbie naked since he was about nine or ten. Matt turned to Robbie and told him to pull his filthy underwear down. Could he refuse? What would be the penalty for failing to comply, he wondered? Robbie didn't want his mom to see his private parts because he was shy and modest. Matt's order to pull his briefs down resounded in Robbie's head. For a man - even Matt - to see his most intimate body area was one thing, but for Rachel to see it was another! Matt had instructed him to push down his Jockeys and stand with his legs apart, hands again behind his head with his groin thrust forward, and to focus on the wall directly in front of him. He slipped the underwear down to bunch around his thighs. He was so embarrassed at having his dick and balls exposed to his parents, knowing they were looking at them and discussing them. Robbie felt fingers touch his hanging balls, then lift them to feel their weight, then fingers on the tip of his erect cock. All the while, not breaking his stare, facing the wall. His dick was once again bobbing up and down. He needed to cum, but not here, not like this. Fingers touched the tender glans all over. Matt stood up and moved behind him. Matt caressed the skin on the nape of the boy's neck, knowing the effect this would have. Robbie then felt Matt's hands run tiny circles on his firm, tensed buttocks - every sensation going straight to his cock. Rachel sat back in her chair, coffee in hand, taking in the sight of their new trainee. She had dismissed from her mind the fact that he was their adopted son. Before their discovery yesterday, they loved him like their own son. But after they surprisingly found out that he had a deep need to be a sub, which Matt had then discussed with him in-depth, they had to make a life-changing decision concerning Robbie. Rachel and Matt could either maintain him as their loving, adorable son or accept him into their private world of S and M as their slave. They had chosen the latter, not because of their desires but because Robbie hungered for it. Without completely understanding S and M and its intense content, he knew it was "where" he belonged. Rachel was now one of his teachers and a good one. It was easy for her to switch herself into the mistress role even as she gazed at the naked, boned-up boy she was now humiliating. Interestingly, Rachel and Matt were both gay. The relationship she and Matt had had since their first meeting twenty years ago was one of pretense. In their middle-class neighborhood, they felt strongly that they should come across as "strait-laced." Even adopting these two children was to help hide their darker, true interests and practices. Of course, they engaged in S and M practices in their home when totally alone. Still, the main expression of their erotica was saved for when they went to Hardington, a small town about thirty miles away. They maintained separate connections and friends where they lived, from where they "played." Hardington was an older hippie/punk safe haven. It was not a dirty town but one that was revived by the liberal artists' community. The several blocks of the restored downtown district were more pedestrian-oriented and featured shops like tattoo parlors, sex toy shops, piercing stations, custom leather-making establishments, and so on. The police understood and accepted a wide mix of social and public behaviors. It had a large gay population and a lot of straights into S and M. Many fringe groups found it a neat and comfortable town to live in or visit. Hardington was where Matt and Rachel would go, at least once a month, to join their power-exchange group to play out their dungeon games. Rachel continued to look at every square inch of Robbie's naked body. She could see the humiliation in his eyes as Matt's touches were causing his body to tremble and shake. Rachel was pleased with his dick size, which would be critical to her plans. She continued to take in his body. He was pretty athletic in all the sports and swimming he did. Dark circles surrounded and emphasized his nipples, which were now standing proud of his taut pectoral muscles. She looked down and followed the trail of blond hair down again to his pubic bush and the thrust forward hips. At that moment, Matt reached between the boy's legs. Robbie's balls rested in Matt's palm, which he used to pull forward and upward to give Rachel a better view. Robbie's underwear, now just bunched under his balls, was not removed to make him naked. No, it was more humiliating for Robbie to feel his underwear on his upper thighs. It was a false sense of security. It was so close, and it would be easy to just reach down, pull them up, and reclaim their privacy. But Matt made it remain there to taunt him. It made for a more indecent display for the family to see, his dick jutted out, and his balls were being pushed forward like some animal being inspected for sale or use. As a final touch, Matt curled a finger back to spread apart the two spheres enclosed in the taut bag of skin. The boy's ball sac swung a few times when Matt let it go. Rachel was enjoying Robbie's humiliation, but her mind was busy planning her part in the few days ahead, which would be crucial to the boy's training. "Do you think you will be able to handle pain?" Matt asked Robbie as he took one of Robbie's erect nipples and gave it a slow, intense-building pinch that caused the boy to wince and cry out, "Yes, sir." To be continued... Wow! Mom and Dad are treating their son, Robbie, like a piece of meat, a sex toy. And now Dad is talking about pain? However, it does seem that Robbie is identifying with these new sub-emotions. So, how far will this go? And what does Jamar have to do with Robbie's descent into slavery? Have we mentioned public humiliation? Look out! Let me know your comments. Bruce Darkforce at [email protected]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave-4
Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2024 07:48:06 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 4 Fucking Shit! Naked Robbie is in "his" doorless bathroom, sitting on "his" toilet, trying to take a dump! AND... standing next to him -- inches away, is his mom and dad! AND his Master black brother, Jamar! Robbie is learning he now gets NO PRIVACY -- NONE! ZERO! You guys keep telling me that what you enjoy most about my stories is the extreme detail I use, which allows you to be in the story, standing there in that crowded, tiny bathroom with naked Robbie on the can and his entire family- PLUS YOU touching Robbie as he craps! Amazing. You'll find more of my stories on GayTies.com. Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 4 of 6 His mom and dad were inches on one side of him, and his brother was on the other with his shins touching Robbie's thigh as he sat there. Then Robbie released a few more turds, and everyone heard the "plunk, plunk, plunk" of the turds dropping into the toilet water. Then he released another long, higher-pitched fart. Everyone broke out in laughter. Rachel giggled, "That gives me an idea before our next party. Let's feed him a big bowl of beans so we won't have to hire a band!" They all laughed. Robbie teared up and could not remove his hands from covering his handsome face. He was just too humiliated to look up from his seated position on the toilet. Robbie said he was finished. He thought his family would then leave to give him some privacy. Still thinking about replacing the curtain rod, his dad mumbled, "That's nice." He then asked Rachel if they should put up a crossbar for better support when they tie him to it. Robbie waited for them to leave, but obviously, they were not leaving. He reached out for some toilet paper to wipe his butt, but the roll of paper was gone. In fact, the little indentation in the wall where it was, was plastered over, though not yet painted. This was a small sign of a powerful statement. Now, there was no holder for his toilet paper. Again, he was shocked and confused. He was trying to ask the question about needing toilet paper. But he said, very sheepishly, "Ah, dad ... I mean Matt, sir, I don't see any toilet paper. Don't I get any to ..." "Of course you do, boy. Do you think we are all stupid? Just ask for some whenever you need it. And, of course, you never flush until one of us makes a note of your ... ah ... `deposit.'" "But sir, I need some now." Robbie gently whispered. "Rachel and I are busy, so just ask your owner." Matt added, "All your efforts to get us to steal toilet paper for you are offensive to Master Jamar. And it delays your getting what you want. Immediate complience is always the best way. Obviously, in this challenging transition period, you will need a lot more supervision. So, here is the new rule on your toilet etiquette. In order for you to take a dump, you need a monitor to watch you. It's for your own good. What if you have a difficult bowel movement, lose stool, or farting too much? How is everyone going to know? All YOUR toilet paper is now in the hall pantry, in a cupboard where you are not allowed to go. When you need to take a dump, you will need to ask someone to supervise you. That person will also be the one to obtain the number of squares of toilet paper they think you need. All of this will be written down in your new toilet log, your "Book of Deposits. "This brings up another point, so I might as well explain it now. For example, let's say we are having Aunt Judy and your little son, Eddie, over for dinner, and we are all seated at the table enjoying our meal. Of course, you would be on the floor, naked, with your dog dish, waiting for someone to give you their scraps. But I'll explain that part later. But during dinner or any other occasion when we have company over, you are to speak up loudly and announce when you need to fart. Give everyone an alert beforehand so they don't miss it. Or if you need to take a crap, that too, you will announce. These occasions will be some of the few times you are allowed to speak on your own. Then you will ask, `Will someone here take me to the bathroom and supervise me taking a crap?' You will always ask our guests first since we want to show them how well we have trained you. But if they prefer not to, then you will ask one of us." Robbie was shaking in fear. He was naked on the toilet; his mom and dad and now controlling brother-Master were all standing next to him, giggling at him for farting and stinking up the room. And now he was told someone had to chaperon him each time he took a shit. And he had to beg for toilet paper, and they had to record everything! His dick was getting bigger and bigger the more they humiliated him. It was now pointing to the ceiling and bobbing. "After your dump, you will stand up and show whoever is supervising you what you deposited in the toilet. After that, and not before, you may ask that supervisor for whatever squares of toilet paper they choose to give you. We will start you out with six squares of toilet paper and see how that works. He or she will then go to the hall pantry, fetch them, and bring them to you. You will use it to wipe yourself and then present your wiped ass to the supervisor. That person will decide how well you did and if you need another square or two." Robbie listened to his dad telling him about his new bathroom procedures and that he always needed someone to watch him. Could anything, ANYTHING, be more humiliating for a mature, muscular 18-year-old? Robbie wallowed in frustration. All these procedures? Just to take a dump? Then he heard Matt say that there was one more step. "After you are all finished in the bathroom, you will show your supervisor your `Book of Deposits.' You are not allowed to write in it yourself, so you will ask the person with you to record the day and time of your dump. You will describe the number of turds, the size, the thickness, and the color, which the supervisor will make note of. Then you will tell him or her how many farts you released in the process and how many squares of toilet paper you used. We want to try to reduce the squares you use so as not to waste paper on you. Then, you will thank that supervisor for his or her assistance. If it happens to be a child or woman who helps you, do not use words like `shit' or `crap.' Use ... ah ... `poo-poos' or `poopies.'" Rachael added, "Since this is summer when we are all in the backyard playing a game or sipping iced tea with friends, no one will want to take you all the way in the house. So, you would go and fetch your `Book of Deposits' and bring it out where we are. Then you will ask, starting with any guest we may have over, to supervise you taking a dump on the lawn." Rachel paused, noticing that as Robbie squirmed on the toilet seat, his hard dick leaked precum. Robbie was not even thinking about erections; they were the furthest thing from his mind. He was too dizzy thinking of how embarrassing it all just became for him to take a dump. As tears seeped down his face, he never noticed that his dick was slowly bobbing and dribbling. Rachel and Matt were so pleased. They gave each other glances and nods of tacit approval at just how far Robbie had come just today. And how much further they would push him to descend into the depths of submission and degradation. "Mr. Jamar? Sir? ... Pa ... pa ... please, may I have six squares of ... of ... toilet paper, sir?" He could not look up at his brother as he pleaded. "Of course, Robbie," he said, feigning care. "I know what you are going through." He stooped down to be eye level with his naked former brother, now his slave toy, seated on the toilet. He put his arm around him and lighted patted his back as a contrived expression of kindness. Robbie thought, just for a moment, that Jamar would be nice to him, and he looked up at him with a tear-wet face and smiled. Jamar then brought his mouth to his ear and whispered. "Sure, I'll get you the six squares, but first, you have to make another big fart and then announce loudly how much you love smelling your farts. You'd better sound and act convincing, or I will leave you here, my dear sweet slave whore." Rachel noticed the whispering but did not interfere with Jamar's control. In fact, his initiative made her feel so proud. Robbie had no choice. He had to do as Jamar told him, or he would never leave the bathroom. He scrunched his face and twisted his body, paused awkwardly, and ... released a loud fart. "Wow! I am so happy when I fart. God, I love the smell of my stinky farts! I love to breathe them in deeply. What a wonderful stink I make!" Rachel now knew what Jamar had whispered about. She said to her now sole son. "Honey, that was very clever of you. We are both so proud. We can leave you in charge of `your dear sweet slave boy' anytime." She added, "Of course, you know generally about our interest in S and M. We share that with you and not with Robbie because you seem so much more mature than your brother. You have always shown respect for our choice of kinky interest. I'm sure you have had questions for the past few years, so Matt and I have a surprise for you now." "Oh, Mom, I'm fine. You don't need to tell me anything about your private life. I just hope you fully enjoy your world of S and M." "Jamar, that's what we love about you. And... that's why we want you included. With Robbie's declared interest in being a slave and his strong inner need to be submissive to all of us, we want you to attend our Hardington excursions." Jamar's face lit up. He was pleasantly shocked and excited to be included in such a significant way. "Wow! I... I... I don't know, want to... Wow!" "Yes, that's right, because you are 18, we will take you to our kink group, the Overseers Club in Hardington." To Jamar, this was like a birthday surprise and getting the best gifts. "Now, this particular event coming up, is not one of our regular meetings. It's a once-a-year celebration of our achievements. Let me warn you: You will be there as an observer. It's your first time. OK? So, just listen, enjoy, and learn. Learning is a process; you have years to develop into a Master for Robbie." "So, I can bring Robbie?" "Yes, of course." "I still don't know how to thank you. I am amazed and so excited. This is a whole new life for me." "yes,l for you and for your slave brother. Wouldn't that be grand? We'll be like a big happy family there." Then she whispered softly to Jamar, "Well ... maybe Robbie won't be too happy, but it will be so much fun for the rest of us." Rachel and Jamar laughed their heads off as they left the room. The Big Event Rachel approached her son two days later and said, "My dear sweet Robbie, Matt and I have a wonderful surprise for you. We are going to include you and Jamar in our next Overseers Club meeting. It's a special gala event. "What, Mistress? We're going out to a gala event?" Robbie asked for clarification. "What's a gala event?" "No, boy, it's a gayla EVENT, like G-A-Y-L-A. It's a highly formal affair; we'll all need to dress to the nines. I'll wear my new formal black lace, full-length gown. Matt, Jamar, and you will all wear formal tuxedos. And, sweetie, you'll be dressed up too." Naked Robbie was there, bowing to his Mistress, Rachael, who was pondering her son's fate, that is... her new family slave's fate. Robbie looked up at her, "You mean I get to wear a tuxedo too? And go formal? With all of you? And everyone there will all be super dressed up, too?" What an odd turn of events. He is bare-ass naked, sitting on the floor. And TOMORROW, he will be with his family in a classy tuxedo and having a wonderful dinner and fabulous Champagne! Well, if you can believe that! Can you believe that? Really? Robbie's chest was puffed out with pride and elation. He'll be going to a high-society formal celebration in a tuxedo. He was so used to being naked. He didn't even know he had a tuxedo. He'd be a full part of the family again. His head was reeling, his mind was lost in the sensation of being respected and accepted and... and... there'd be lots of girls there too, all wearing evening gowns and big smiles. He wondered if he'd meet someone special and finally have a real girlfriend. FUCK! His whole world was opening up. AND normal again! "Of course, silly, it's a celebration dinner with gourmet food, Champagne, and wonderful entertainment. It's sponsored by the Overseer's Club of Ohio. They meet in Hardington twice a year for their bi-annual Gayla Celebrations. It's actually a fundraiser, and Matt and I never miss it. We never took Jimal, but we decided he had earned it. And you will join us because, well, because, well... it's time for you to fully appreciate this wonderful event. In your new wonderful life." It's to recognize individual achievement and conduct special initiations. "Miss... Achievements and initiations?" "Yes, dear, but it's nothing for you to concern yourself. You can just sit back and enjoy your wonderful dinner.' On the day of the event, Mom and Dad, his adopted parents, to be more specific, got all dressed up. Rachael and Matt bought Jamar a royal blue velvet tux with a white shirt and a black bowtie. His hair was trimmed up in a fashionable tight Afro. He was dressed to kill. All three were gathered at the front door, where Robbie was kneeling, naked. "Mistress? Ah... my tux?" Asked Robbie, eagerly waiting for his formal wear. "Robbie, my dear sweet Robbie, don't worry. You will be formally dressed as well. We must pick up your outfit at the store on the way to Hardington." "Clothes, Miss?" "Oh, yes, dear, go upstairs and quickly put on your school clothes. So you'll have something to wear on the way. Don't worry about what you look like. You'll change into your formal outfit soon." He was, once again, normal. Although conflicted and confused, Robbie could not hold back the tears. He could not believe it; all was back to being a part of the family. It felt strange. "Thank you, ah,... Miss... ah... mom?" Robbie said. Rachel and Matt exchange private winks. All was going as planned. Robbie ran upstairs, dressed in a T-shirt, underwear, jeans, socks, and tennis shoes, just the clean clothes that had been set out on his bed. Robbie never considered why they were there; he had no access to clothes before but was too excited to question it. He ran back down the stairs. Matt opened the door, and they all made their way to the SUV. As they drove over, all were chit-chatting, even Robbie, excited to have a mom, dad, and brother again, even though it felt odd. As they approached Hardington, Robbie felt nervous, "Mom, where do we stop to get my tux? I want to dress for you to make you proud." Yes, he called her `mom,' and no one corrected him! "Sweetie, dear, don't worry. I called the shop and told them to deliver your formal attire to the Grand Empress Hotel, where the Gayla is. That way, you'll be sure to have it." Sitting in the front seat, Rachael and Matt smiled broadly at each other. "And by the way, you will definitely be dressed to make us proud." Matt pulled the car into the valet parking spot, and everyone exited. All those entering were dressed in spectacular outfits. Most guys and boys wore either tuxedos or full leather gear. Quite a mix. Most women and female teens wore beautiful floor-length gowns, and a few were dressed as dominatrixes. The others wore leather outfits, such as black leather tuxedos with no shirt to show bare chests and many women wore leather pants or skirts and a leather bra on top. So, attendees went from formal conservative to formal kink. Almost everyone had tattoos and piercings. That's the Overseers' membership. Then, there was Robbie, dressed as a clean-cut high school boy. An older woman looked at him weirdly. "Oh, my tux is inside," Robbie smiled at her. He did feel bad. He figured his tux was in the back, so he followed his parents and walked behind them and Jamal. They approached a sign at the table where 2 shaved-headed women wore black leather tuxes and nose rings, "tickets?" Matt produced three admission tickets. The staff then looked up at Robbie and started to blurt out," Oh, he the special..." Matt quickly interrupted, "Yes, he is. Where does he go to get prepared?" The ticket taker looked Robbie up and down, "He's cute. All is ready. The Captain will attend to you all in a moment." They entered the lavish ballroom, where all the tables were set up to seat maybe 400 guests. Matt made his way to the Captain in a white tux. The two of them had an intensive whispered conversation, and then Matt returned to his family, "OK, let's take our seats. And you too, Robbie." Robbie was stuttering, trying to ask where his tux was, but he did as his dad told him and just sat down at their assigned table between Rachael and Matt. Before long, drinks were served, and then, within 30 minutes into dinner, the Captain stood at the center of the room. A spotlight lit him nicely, and all went quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, Masters and Mistresses, slaves and dogs," he spoke calmly into a cordless mic. As you know, this is a fundraiser for our Overseers Club. Tonight, we are going to have an auction. And I will need a helper. I wonder if we should have a new member to help me here. Are there any new members here tonight?" "We brought our dear, sweet Robbie," Matt blurted out loudly. It's his first time, and he will be joining today." Robbie's eyes bugged out. He was in total shock and terrified just hearing his name. After all, Robbie was timid to begin with. It was his first time here. He just returned to being a normal member of his family. This was too new. And to be helping under a spotlight with hundreds of high-class strangers watching was horrifying. In his dazed-up mind, he repeatedly said, "No, sorry, dad, no, I can't do..." as he was escorted by his dad over to join the Captain. "Well, thank you, Robbie, for volunteering to help in the auction." The Captain put the mic in front of Robbie's mouth. "Ah... um... ah..." "Well said, my boy. Well said," Everyone laughed. "OK, you got the looks. Who needs a hunk with a brain." More laughter. "OK, Robbie, I'll help you get started. I know this is your first time. So, the first item up for bid is a pair of very sexy shoes. So, Robbie, ask them, `Who wants to start the bidding.'" "Ah... um... who wants to start?" Robbie mumbled into the mic the Captain held at his mouth. "$50," someone yelled. "$100," another man said. Rachael and Matt were watching from afar. Was it odd that they were not interacting with Robbie? No. They wanted Robbie to experience the members controlling him directly without an additional order from them. They were pleased beyond their wildest expectations. "$120," called a young woman. "250, I'll bid $250," an elderly man yelled out. "Wow, Robbie, you are doing great. So far, you got $250 for a pair of sexy shoes." Robbie started to smile, feeling a tiny bit at ease. "What kind of shoes are they?" yelled a tall guy in the back. "Good question. Robbie, what kind of shoes are they?" The Captain asked. "Huh? What? What brand? Robbie said in his state of confusion. "Yes, what brand?" "What?" He did not understand the question, `What brand?' He didn't even see the shoes. "For example, what brand are your shoes?" Robbie looked down at his well-worn tennis shoes and answered, "What? Oh, these? These are New Balance." "$300," a redheaded man yelled out. Robbie's former Black adopted brother, Jamar, just sat there, watching the extreme festivities with his parents. He was waiting for the day to come when he would take complete control of his new, dear, sweet slave boy. "$400," the tall guy bid again. "What size are the shoes?" yelled a voice. Robbie shrugged his shoulders. Never seeing the shoes they were bidding on, how would he know? "Well," the Captain said, "Robbie, you've got to tell him something. What size are your shoes?" "What? Ah..." He had to think. "Well, these old things are size 11. But I don't know the ones they are..." "Size 11," the Captain answered. "$425," The redhead raised his bid. "$425, going once, $425, going twice, $425, going three times.... SOLD! to the redhead!" A very handsome redheaded man stepped forward and approached the spotlight to claim his purchase. He stood there smiling at Robbie and said to him, "I'll take them now." "What?" The Captain leaned over to Robbie and whispered into the mic so all could hear, "Well, Robbie, you just sold him a pair of shoes. You must give him something." Robbie had no clue what was going on. He was puzzled. "Look, Robbie, everyone is staring at you. Let's figure this out." A pause... "OK, give him your shoes for now, and we will work it out later, OK?" The audience was chucking at Robbie's naivete. But Robbie wanted no embarrassment. He nodded, bent over, untied his old, smelly tennis shoes, and handed them to the redhead. Everyone applauded. The buyer returned to his seat. Placed the shoes up to his nose and inhaled the warm, sweaty insides of the shoes deeply, uttering, "What a fucking bonus." "OK, folks, the next item up for bid is a pair of socks worn by a college athlete." The Captain glanced down at Robbie's socks, then announced, "These are white cotton gym socks." Then he turned to Robbie, "OK, now ask for an opening bid." "Ah... um... OK... who will bid first on the socks?" He mumbled. He thought this was the weirdest action ever. But, being in the spotlight, in front of all these high-class people, he had to go along to quickly get this over with. He wanted to get back to his seat with Mom and Dad. He didn't even get to finish his dinner. Rachael and Matt were grinning with pleasure. Matt even flashed Robbie an OK sign, which pleased the boy. Now, he felt better. He was not about to embarrass his parents, not in front of all these people. He was going to do what was asked of him. Again, "$50," someone yelled out. "100, a guy in a leather Master's outfit called out. $150." Then the Master asked loudly, "Hold one up so we can see it." Robbie looked up to the Captain, "What do we do?" "Well, we don't have the sock here to show anyone. Go ahead and take one of your off and hold it up. That'll do for now." With the encouragement of his parents, Robbie didn't hesitate. He stooped down, removed his gym sock, and held it high. He even slowly turned fully around, kind of getting into it. Applauds. He accepted the applause as a sign that he was doing a good job assisting the Captain. "$200." "$250." "$500," the Master bid. He wanted those socks! "SOLD! To the leather man!" The leather Master was a burly man, tall and must have weighed 240 pounds, but not fat. "I'll take that now, thanks," Robbie handed him the sock he was holding. "And the other." He stooped again, slipped off his other sock, and surrendered it. "Robbie, I am very pleased with you," the Captian told him, "I'm sure your superiors must be proud of you today." Robbie blushed. "Yes, welcome to the club, boy." Robbie was on a new high. This big, dominant man singled him out and made him feel proud. "OK, next item is a worn pair of jeans freshly soaked with piss. Robbie, let's see you take it from here." Now, with more confidence, Robbie felt like he was an integral part of the festivities, which energized him and gave him more confidence. "Listen up, folks, we have a nice pair of nicely worn jeans and soaked with piss. That's freshly smelly. Who will start the bidding." "$300." Rachael and Matt wanted to get in the bidding, but no. This was Robbie's big performance. He was being trained to obey and serve ANYONE without question. And they were so proud he was learning that now. "$500." Then, a pair of middle-aged women stood up. "We bid $600." The Captain was amazed at Robbie's transformation because people, including his parents, praised him. Then, there was a moment of silence. So, Robbie came on loud and strong, "OK, guys, we have $600. Let's hear more." "We need a better look at the pants. Turn around and show us." Without hesitation, he put his hand in the air and slowly twirled. " So, who will go $700?" "Where's the piss? Why are your pants not soaked with piss." Robbie ignored the silly remark. It wasn't his pants he was auctioning off. "Where's the piss?" At this point, a curtain at each end of the hall drew back, and large monitors showed a close-up of Robbie. The room was huge, and there were hundreds of people. The screens were important for everyone to get a close-up view of the boy and his growing misery, not to mention his soon-to-be-seen pants-wetting. The Caption leaned into Robbie and whispered into the mic so all could hear, "We better give them a look and what pissed-soaked jeans look like, or they'll get upset." He looked up to his mom and dad; this time, it was Rachel, who Robbie saw as the power in the family. She nodded and gave a thumbs-up. Still, Robbie was not sure what to do. "Look, Robbie, this is a marble floor. A little piss will not hurt anything, so just release a little bit, please, for these fucking bastards." Everyone chuckled. "These fucking assholes don't think you have the nerve to wet your pants. You'll show them. Go ahead, let er rip." And Robbie squeezed his eyes, and soon, a wet spot darkened the fly of his jeans. Robbie started to cry with embarrassment. Applause. He let more go, and the wet spot enlarged to cover the entire front of his pants. "More. Let us see the full gallon of piss soak those jeans, Robbie," the Captain said. "Do it for me." Robbie's body began to shake. He closed his eyes and trembled, and then he not only wet his jeans, but he was also causing a large pool of pee on the marble floor. "Go ahead, sit in it so we know the jeans are soaked front and back." Robbie did, and for the first time this evening, Robbie was getting a big stiff dick. He felt so humiliated. Somehow, he knew he had to give all these superior people what they requested. He sat in his piss and rolled around in the puddle. He felt so embarrassed he could not stop sobbing. He was whimpering at feeling disgusted by rolling around in his piss, soaking his jeans, T-shirt, and surely his underwear as well. On the other hand, he fucking LOVED pleasing others, anyone, doing as told. There was so much approval, adoration, and acceptance. He teared up and even cried aloud. "$1,000." A new bidder yelled out. "$1,200, countered a bare-chested, piercing-cluttered punker shouted. Brother Jamar was looking on, salivating, waiting for his time at home to take charge of this slave. He'd be a great Black Master. "$1,300 from the other bidder. "$1,500, came the punker. Then silence., "SOLD! To the shirtless punk stud for $1,500!" Robbie was still on the floor, wallowing in his piss. The Captain calmed him down. "OK, boy, up you go. The gentleman who just bought your jeans is here." The Captain helped him stand, but Robbie was still somewhat out of control. He did not quite know what to do when he was fully standing. "OK, little buddy, come over here, take your jeans off. Robbie unsnapped the button, unzipped the fly, and tried to push his tight, soaked jeans down his muscular thighs. But they were glued to his legs. As he fought to get them off him, his bare feet slipped on the piss-soak marble floor, causing him to stumble sideways toward the guests seated at the nearby dinner tables and fall on them. You might think that that was a disaster, but the audience loved it. They were howling with laughter. Tight jeans wet with piss, or anything, are just not coming off those legs. He struggled and tried to push them down. It was hopeless. They loved it when Robbie landed on top of several guests, two men and two women, in their formal tuxes and gowns. Yes, their clothes were ruined for the night, but it was so erotic they fondled Robbie, who was lying across their laps. Several grabbed the jeans and tried pushing them off his legs but couldn't. "Look," one of the guys said, "You can't do it that way. You must grab the bottom cuffs and pull them off." Robbie was sitting on several people who were bear-hugging him around the chest so the guys pulling on the cuffs could get them off. The two guys slowly pulled down his jeans and slipped them off his bare feet. Big cheers busted out. Finally, the punker got his $1,500 pair of jeans. He returned to his seat, a joyful young man. The Captain once again helped Robbie stand up and get calm. He now stood there only in his T-shirt and white jockey underwear. There was one other addition to his "outfit," his big, jutting-out boner. After all his work getting out of his pants, he was trying to take deep breaths and collect himself... the show must go on. "OK, folks. That was quite a show. Hope you enjoyed it. By the way," the Captain said as he turned to the few guests who were sat on by the piss-soaked Robbie, "the club isn't responsible for your laundry bills." More Laughs and giggles. "Now, the next item up for bid is a white cotton T-shirt. Dazed Robbie just stood there, all boned up, in the spotlight, shown large on the TV monitors. The Captain simply looked at the tag on the back of Robbie's Tee and announced, "OK, this is size large, and the brand is Hanes. It says, `heavy-duty.' So, who will start? And by the way, it is soaked in prime urine for those exquisite smells and tastes." More hoots and cheers. "$1,000." Then silence. "Do I hear any more bids?" Silence. "SOLD to our Asian friend in the purple tux." Rachael and Matt applauded louder than anyone. The man came up, and the Captain was helping Robbie remove his T-shirt. "Please. May I?" the buyer asked, and the Captain nodded. The handsome Japanese lad slowly lifted the bottom of the Tee, but he was taking his time. He grabbed the cotton material and slipped it higher and higher. Robbie lifted his arms; still, the buyer didn't just pull it up and off. He moved it slowly and finally off his arms and hands. All eyes were on the glorious slave lad. The high-ceiling chandelier lights had been dimmed some time ago. The spotlight directed solely at him was turned up brighter. Everyone in this huge, classy hall was in formal clothes of one kind or the other. Only Robbie had been stripped to his piss-soaked, tented-up briefs. Robbie's semi-muscular body was perfect. He was a defined athlete with smooth skin that was almost hair-free. He stood there with his ever-present boner, full of the shame of lust, degradation, and fulfillment. There was nothing he could do. He was so humiliated. He was nothing. He was everything. "Well, well, well. Ladies and gentlemen. Seems like we still have one more item. It certainly seems up... way up..." Everyone laughed. "I mean, up for bid." The monitors show chose-ups of his piss-soaked briefs and Robbie fidgeting from foot to foot with embarrassment. He had been trained to never cover up his dick. That training stuck. Everyone applauded his twitching boner in full view. To be continued.... FUCKING SHIT! Robbie got manipulated into auctioning off his own clothes! Now, he's down to his briefs! Does he have to sell those too? They can't make him sell those, really? He'll be naked in a huge, luxurious hall with dozens of giant hanging crystal chandeliers, where everyone is wearing their finest clothes, leather to tuxedos, adorned with expensive jewelry and furs and... and... Robbie is stark naked, with the close-up camera zooming in on his... his... bobbing, twitching boner? WOW! I'll bet you're pissing in your pants, waiting to see what unfolds in chapter 5. I PROMISE NOT TO DISAPPOINT YOU! Send your comments to me, Bruce Darkforce, at [email protected]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/in-the-service-to-father-michael/
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Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2023 19:52:13 +0000 (UTC) From: C Sucker Subject: Fags Hookup Journal - 01 On my journey to becoming a better sub, faggot, cocksucker, slut, wet-hole-for-men-to-use, etc., I started keeping a little journal of hookups. Usually, I just list the who, when, what happened, like in a bullet journal. But sometimes, i like to write out what happened in a longer format. The men i connect with are typically dominant men in one way or another, whether we're in a D/s relationship, or whether they just want to get their dick wet. Regulars are my favorites, and i love when they text me to get over there. Here's a write up of a recent encounter. I love comments and feedback! Please feel free to message me at [email protected]. Just call me fag. ;-) Having guys who regularly want to use you to dump a load or two is a great feeling. J (let's just call him J) picked me up a few years ago through a hookup ad i'd posted. i love giving blowjobs; he loves receiving them. Perfect, right? And this guy can go for HOURS. He loves to edge, and has really trained himself to get the most possible pleasure out of every encounter. Whenever he messages me, i know i should clear a few hours. No quick blow-and-go with J! He texted while I was away on a camping trip. Bummer. But i told him when i'd be back in town, and sure enough, he texted again the day i got back, wanting me to come over. I bailed, because i was exhausted (bad fag), but he suggested catching me the next morning. His work takes him on the road for days at a time, so catching him when he's home is important. What i wasn't expecting was that he wanted me there at 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning! (I told you he likes a long session, right?) But i made it work, feeling bad i'd said no to coming over right away. Getting up early for him was the least i could do, right? Most times when he's had me over, he kicks back at his desk, porn going on one screen, Chaturbate on another. He mostly leans back and lets me do my thing. J's not a big guy, maybe 5'10", real slim & trim; but his cock? that thing is like a kickstand. It's a thing of beauty! Nice girth, beautiful mushroom head that loves sliding into the back of my throat and making itself right at home there. I love making out with it, and it seems to enjoy the attention, too. This time, though -- I suppose because it was early morning? because we were on a schedule? -- J didn't sit down; he just opened his fly, pulled out the equipment, guided my face to his cock, and slid himself on in. I am NOT complaining. i'm a cocksucker; i'll take care of a cock however he likes it. If a man is tossing his head back and making those sexy growls, i'm in. I'm ALL in. I'm pretty skilled, and i love getting a guy to that place. But the best for me, my FAVORITE, is when a man takes control and really uses my throat; when he almost forgets that i'm there and just uses me like he'd use his fist or a fleshlight toy. So when J didn't sit down, but wrapped his arm around the back of my head and started in on rolling his hips in that sweet fucking motion-- i was in heaven. He wasn't interested in fucking hard this time -- he still wanted to draw it out, so the movements were slow, but insistent. He wasn't letting me off his cock anytime soon. It had been half-hard when he first pulled it from his jeans, but now it was rock hard and fighting for entry into my throat. I turned my head a little sideways to accomodate his curve. That always seems to do the trick. He let out a sexy moan, and i could feel a wet spot starting in my jock. His hands left my head for a while so he could tease his tits. I wrapped my hands around his thighs to let him know i wanted his full shaft in me. I managed to get my tongue out as far as i could with his cock intruding, and licked at his balls. He groaned again. I pulled back enough to look up and took a snapshot in my brain of this man's face, chest, and abdomen. Just a regular guy; no magazine model. Skinny, like i'd said, but with a little middle-aged potbelly, which feels great when it bops against my forehead. He usually keeps his chest hair shaved or trim; this day he had some stubble coming in on his tits. I reached up to brush them, and he put his hands behind his head, giving me a view of his pits. God, this man is sexy when he's enjoying his body. His eyes were closed, head tilted back, cock with a good cocksucker doing its job, a nice squeeze and flick on his tits, the smell of soap (irish spring, maybe?), the quiet sounds of sucking and slapping from the porn on the monitor. The sound and feel of slurping from my own mouth, spit trailing down his balls and dripping on my knees. He glanced down and caught me looking at him, worshipping his body, and he smiled. Sounds from upstairs as his husband was getting ready for work. He had been in the kitchen when i came in and cracked a joke, asking if i wanted any sausage for breakfast. J likes for me to blow his husband, too, sometimes, but not today. Today it was all about J's cock, and it was feeling GREAT in my throat. After an hour my knees were complaining, so i shifted to sit my butt on the floor. J kept standing; now i had to work a little harder, keeping the pull on his cock as it was angled more to the ground. I let it go, careful not to scrape my teeth on it. It sprang up in the air and i could almost see the comic book "TWANG!" graphic, or "THWAAP!" as it hit J's belly. He proceeded to shove his balls in my face and i eagerly ran my tongue over his balls, and in the cracks between them and his thighs, rubbing my face all over them, trying to pick up his smell. Back to his cock, and he grabbed my head again, moving his hips more steadily this time, hitting that "g-spot" i seem to have in my cocksucker's throat and making me crazy. I reached up to squeeze his balls, and they were all pulled up against his body. Not long, now, i thought. But of course, i forgot. J's an edging master. He just rode that wave and made me work harder for my breakfast. He was getting vocal, now. Suck it. Suck it. Yeah boy, suck it. ... Music to my ears. I looked up again and met his eyes, half hoping he would spit in my face, but afraid to ask him to. He just gazed back at me with that half-here, half-gone hazy glare, licking his lips, and enjoying the fuck out of my mouth. He pulled back and i became this needy, greedy suck pig chasing after his wet dick, rubbing it on my face, licking it up and down before he took aim and shoved it back down my throat where it belonged. Now he's asking me if i want his load. Like, when have i ever said no to that? He maneuvered me into a position he liked. i had one hand tweaking his nipple, and the other arm wrapped around his thigh and ass like if i let go i might fall off a cliff or something. Needing his body, needing his cock in my throat. Needing his load. His hands holding my face in just the right position for him, saying Just like that. Just like that. Over and over like a mantra. Don't stop. Just like that, boy. That's it faggot. Take my cock. I feel the first bitter drip of precum finding the back of my tongue and gag a little. I fight the impulse to pull back, to end this orgasm and start towards a new one; but that's not what he wants. He wants me there, open for him, taking his cock, wanting his load. And i do, i want all of that. My body relaxes, and i let that gag reflex just move on by as his cockhead swells and leaks and lubes things up and pushes further down. His pubes are grinding on my nose now, and his balls slapping my chin with each stroke. He's got a grip on my head, and i'm clinging to his body like my life depended on it. And finally, there's the throaty whisper, "here it comes boy. take it. take it." And i do. There's nothing in the world i want more in this moment. I feel his load sliding across my tongue, the scent of it in my nose. Swallowing. Swallowing again. Licking the underside of his cock to tease out a few more drops, and just savoring the jewels on the tip of the slit as they appear. He collapses in his chair, finally. I collapse at his feet and bury my face in his lap, wet dick still giving an occasional throb, his hand on my hair. I kiss each of his nuts in turn, like a "thank you" and put his softening cock back in my mouth, even though i know how sensitive he gets. He lets me. I'd crawl entirely into his lap if i'd fit. I feel safe, and turned on, and satisfied, tasting his cum on my breath. Knowing my hair's all fucked up. Knowing his husband was maybe listening. Knowing i hadn't even had coffee yet, but here i was, summoned, and eager to go suck this man's cock and get his load in my mouth and in my belly. After a few moments like that, he pushes me off, we get dressed, chat about his next work trip and how hot it's been out. I barely hear any of it because i'm spaced out happy with cum breath and a sore jaw. I get back in my car and head to the office, glad I thought to bring a ball cap with me to hide my just-fucked hair. It was a great way to start the week. (and I'm already wondering where my next load might be coming from.) (True story, names changed. Encounter date 2023-07-18.) I love comments and feedback! Please feel free to message me at [email protected]. Just call me fag. ;-)
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-capture-of-agent-ned/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/jaspers-dilemma
Date: Sun, 21 Jul 2024 12:10:07 +0000 (UTC) From: Super Size Me Subject: Jasper's Dilemma (one chapter) Jasper's Dilemma Now Jasper had been living on the streets since he lost the family farm following his fathers death. It had only been he and his father since he was 14 and now at 19 he was wandering the streets of the city looking for handouts that were few and far between. He no longer looked like his former self. He had been proud of his body very well built But having missed much of his education due to helping on the farm Jasper wasn't qualified to do much of anything. So as he passed by a bar with a Help Wanted sign he didn't give it a second thought as he went in. There he was presented with the darkest sight he had ever seen. There were nothing but big black men in all sorts of leather. He saw the Rainbow neon flag behind the bar and although he had never known truly what that men he had heard of the LGBT and had always been told that they were not to be around. And although you couldn't fully call him racist he was unfamiliar with black people since he had not met any. But his hunger took over and he went up to the big black man at the bar and asked about the job. Luther gave a big deep baritone laugh and announced to the few patrons that "this white boy wants a job". Jasper blushed and in a low meek tone responded with an almost inaudible "yes". It doesn't pay much Luther said it's just a bar back. You will clean up things pick up the messes clean bathroom. That's ok I'll do it. Jasper was a hard worker. The farm life showed that. But now standing there you couldn't really tell it as his lack of consistent nutrition showed the beginnings of a skeleton standing before Luther. Luther was taken by the chutzpah of this boy coming into a black bar for a job. He handed Jasper a stack of papers and a pen and asked if he wanted a soda which jasper gladly accepted. Jasper sat a table that had more light at it and started filling out the papers. After about 15 minutes he returned the papers to Luther and he and Luther sat and talked about it. Luther explained the pay to which Jasper readily agreed. They talked about his work on the farm and the death of his father. And then Luther came to the living conditions where Jasper said he had no housing. That is a problem Luther said. I can't have you living on the streets. Tell you what I have a small room upstairs not much bigger than a janitor closet but I can get a small bed in there and you can wash up in the janitor closet. Jasper was excited to get off the streets. His eyes widened almost tearing up. Sitting there in his typical overalls holes several places and a dirty white t-shirt he had found a home at least for awhile. Well if you want to start now I will show you the room and have a bed for you by the end of the week. Jasper finally found his voice and almost shouted YES. Luther had the biggest toothiest grin on his face joyful by Jasper's enthusiasm. The went up the stars and Luther showed him the room. It was so much smaller than his room he had at the farm. Smaller that his closet there but he was happy to have a place out of the weather. He put his pack on the floor in the corner and thanked Luther. Now Luther said this is a black gay leather bar so you are going to see things you probably have never seen before and I need you to give them something to look at so first off I want you to lose the shirt. You will be shirtless. Now I do like the overalls but lets take the left strap down and let it hang exposing your chest. This will give you more of a chance to get attention and possibly tips although bar backs rarely get tips but you might get a pat on the butt or a touch of the chest. Are you still in for this. Jasper was a bit taken aback by this but he once again found his meek voice and said yes. He looked at the room and the smile on Luther's face and decided he would do this. Ok get washed up the janitor closet is right over there and come down in 10 minutes. Luther left and Jasper got himself cleaned up and ready took a deep breath and down he came and as he went through the door he got a raucous round of hoots and hollers from the small crowd. Jasper blushed a deep red and stood there stunned. Luther motioned him to come over to the bar and told Jasper he told the crowd that he hired the white boy and wanted them to welcome him properly. He gave Jasper a bar towel which Luther stuck in one of his back pockets giving him a chance to squeeze his ass. No go introduce yourself to the regulars. Get to know them because you will see them often. The first few hello's went slow but the third table had three men there and when he went up to them a big arm wrapped around his waist baring any possible exit. Jasper could feel the muscular arm against the middle of his back and a tight hold on his right butt cheek so tight he thought maybe he would see a bruise when he looked. They talked for several minutes and one of the others told him to come over to him as the one that had a hold on him let go. As Jasper aproached the new man slipped his hand inside Jasper's overalls and down his back. Hum boxers. Lose those next time we meet. I like a boy that goes commando. Understood? Jasper nodded his head in agreement. I asked you a question boy and I expect an answer. Yes sir. Jasper responded. Good Sir was the right answer. As he removed his hand he pulled so tight on the boxers that he tore them off of Jasper and held them in his hand in from of the others. Jasper realized that he was going to be without underwear and possibly groped often here as he wandered the bar talking to each person. Cleaning as he went along. Returning to Luther getting new instructions on his job and pointing out things to pick up or clean. Jasper had never had an opportunity for any sexual activity having been at the farm all his life so he was still a virgin and not having been on the street long enough to have been propositioned there. He was getting all the attention he could handle and although he had always considered himself straight and still did the attention did please him. As the day progressed and more men came in stunned by the shining white boy working there some would come up to him trying to intimidate him. And his submissive side would come out more and more in this venue. And they liked it. Some would ask Luther what was going on and they would get a good laugh out of the poor white boy working there. Now Jasper wasn't a small person. He was 6'6" and now about 130 pounds having gone down from almost 250 of pure muscle boy.but he was now so down on his life that he was becoming the submissive to these big black men and that was what most of them that frequented this bar were looking for. Just not in a white package but how can you control those dominant tendencies. So Jasper learned his role quickly and he stayed in that role coming to the point where it was second nature, his natural way of being. It wasn't more than a week when Luther came up to Jasper's room with a pair of scissors and an envelope. He demanded that Jasper remove his overalls and took the scissors to the legs making them look like Daisy Duke's almost so short that his dick and balls would fall out if they had been big enough. He had always been one of the smallest in school which was an embarrassment to him so that made it easier for him to justify staying home and working on the farm. But this was something different. Why? Jasper asked. I have had some guys want to see those white legs of yours and we are going to give them that. Now put them on. Jasper did and got a twirl signal from Luther. As he did Luther stopped him mid turn and said that just isn't going to do. He grabbed the back pockets and ripped them open exposing Jasper's butt cheeks. Better. Now you can use the front pocket for your rag. Jasper still had on his shoes and being high-top they went up his legs more than Luther wanted but having him go barefooted was dangerous with the possibility of broken glass. I'me going to have to do something about that. Luther said. Jasper going into submissive mode bowed his head looking down and Luther's shoes and said yes. Turned and went down to start his day's work. The looks he got stunned him and he was getting more attention now. This might have been unwanted before but Jasper became excited with this new attention. He even wiggled his hips to get more attention and he got that attention. Luther smiled at Jasper as he worked the room. Now Jasper had a place to live Luther was feeding him, granted a lot of it wasn't the most healthy but bar food is better than nothing and that skeletal frame was looking less skeletal. Having had to scrounge for anything to eat for months this was a welcome addition. At the end of the day and the bar was closed Jasper went up to his room and collapsed on the bed that Luther had promised. There he found the envelope and he opened it. In it was $12. Jasper looked at it quizzically. Is this tips for me he thought. But he was too tired and fell asleep. He would talk to Luther tomorrow. As he woke and got dressed and ready he went down to the bar. There was Luther having arrived his normal prior to the bar opening getting everything ready. Jasper screwed up his courage to ask Luther about the envelope and Luther responded that that was his pay. Jasper asked about it and Luther told him about the food and room and taxes that he took out of it and that was all that was left. Now Jasper's submissive training had not fully kicked in yet and he began to question it but Luther stopped him and told him that he could go back out on the streets and he could get himself a new bar back. To which Jasper hung his head and began to do his work. His next pay would be significantly less. The next week Luther showed up with a bag and pulled out a pair of high heeled shoes that were sparkly and glittery and told Jasper to put them on. They raised the already tall Jasper another 6 inches so that he would be very well seen in the bar by all that came in. The patrons would easily be able to spot the white boy. Luther said he didn't want Jasper to be hard to find so got him the high heels. Jasper had never walked in something so high and it took him a whole shift before he got use to them. And then Luther took out a thick metal ring from the bag. He told Jasper to come over where he wrapped it around Jasper's neck and quickly locked it in place. This is a leather bar and you need to look the part. Jasper realized that if he questioned anything he would be dumped out on the street with even less than he had when he came in. At least here he had a room and food and drink but little else. And his old belongings were quickly becoming fewer and fewer. Jasper almost toppled several times that day but he was learning. But it was also that day that Luther saw something he didn't like. The next morning Luther was up in Jasper's room even before Jasper was awake yelling at him. What did I do Jasper asked? You know very well what you did. I saw Larry squeeze your balls and you pulled away. You think you have the right to deny any of my patrons anything they want? I'm sorry it hurt. Well this is going to hurt a lot more. Luther produced a metal thing and told Jasper to stand up. It was common for Jasper to now sleep in the nude so Luther didn't have to tell him to undress. He pulled out Jasper's cock and balls and and proceeded to en cage them in this metal thing. There now your junk wont be on display for people to squeeze. But it hurts. Now Jasper wasn't very big but this made his cock no more than a nub and his balls hung down ready for squeezing. Now get dressed. Jasper was quickly becoming what Luther had imagined when he first saw that white boy come through the door almost a year ago. Although he was no longer that skeleton having had the bad bar diet and the lack of workouts showed on his body. He was beginning to get love handles which gave the patrons more to play with. And having not seen the light of day in a year, working all day inside, he was even whiter. His sun bleached hair darkened and having so little chest hair the little bit on his chest, the small treasure trail and the crotch hair was minuscule. But that was the next to go per Luther. Luther demanded that Jasper shave his chest, underarms, torso and crotch leaving him the hair on his head at this point and the hair on his arms and legs at this point. On the anniversary of Jasper's hiring Luther called him over to the bar motioning him to the back. He told Jasper to open the cabinet on the bottom and there was a cake that read happy anniversary. And before Jasper could rise Luther put his hand on Jasper's shoulder and told him to unzip his pants. He then told Jasper to pull out his cock. Thank your better for the chance to work here. Luther demanded. Jasper looked up at Luther and said thank you. No boy thank your better Luther said shaking his cock in Jasper's face. Jasper looked at Luther and then at the big black cock and then said to Luther's cock thank you. Is that how you say thank you to your betters? Jasper looked up at Luther and then back at the cock and then up at Luther again. You know how to properly thank your betters. You have been here long enough and it is about time you learned your place. Jasper gave the tip of Luther's cock a kiss. You can do better than that. Jasper then spread his lips and took the head in his mouth. That was all it took as Luther grabbed the back of Jasper's head and pulled him all the way down his 9 inch cock and held him there as Jasper choked. Eventually Luther pulled back to allow Jasper to get a breath and then plunged down again choking Jasper again. As this happened over and over Jasper was beginning to become more use to the assault and when Luther shot his load down Jasper's throat Luther said we have just added another duty to your employment. Now take your cake. Jasper reached over and took it putting it on the bar. Have some. Jasper looked for some silverware but there was none to be had. You don't have to be so formal take a handful and eat. Jasper had learned not to question Luther and did as instructed. When he finished tat handful Luther said there is more there. It's all for you. Jasper was congratulated on his anniversary by most of the regulars in a similar manor as Luther's congratulations. As he went from table to table he was ordered to kneel and take out their cocks and suck on it. The day and night went on and inside his belly swam many loads mixing with the cake. But Jasper became use to this and he knew the consequences of his refusal. Or rather feared the consequences because he didn't know what Luther would do if he did refuse. Jasper thought of all the empty calories that were in the cake and thought about his already tight overalls. But he did as he was instructed and kept shoveling handful after handful in his mouth till there was no more. This sort of thing seemed to become more common. Luther providing ever increasing amounts of food that Jasper was expected to finish. And it showed. The straps on his overalls kept extending till they were at their maximum and finally his belly thick legs and man boobs could no longer be contained by his old overalls. And when they were about to burst Luther showed up with a new pair already prepared with the shortened legs and lack of back pocket almost looking like a thong on his back side. His ass could only be described as the patrons would often comment as "junk in the trunk." It was on his birthday, January 12th, that Jasper got his christening. In the middle of the bar Jasper came down to a padded bench. He had seen this a few times but never in the middle of the bar. Happy Birthday Luther said. Come over here Luther demanded. Kneel. Luther instructed and thank me properly. Jasper did as he was instructed and as he made use of Luther's cock he felt a strange feeling. The metal collar he had been wearing was suddenly off. Here is your birthday present, well the first of many. The collar had become tight on his double chins and thickening neck and he got a new bigger one. Now stand up. Luther put on some equally thick cuffs on him and locked them in place. And then for the first time ever Luther got on his knees and put some cuffs on Jasper's ankles locking them in place. Standing up he told Jasper to turn around and with a quick motioned cut the strip of fabric that ran between his ass cheeks. Now lay down on the bench. Jasper laid down on his back and Luther in a gruff voice said no on your belly. Jasper rolled over and Luther linked Jasper's cuffs to bolts on the legs of the bench. For your birthday you get lube. Luther went behind Jasper and lubed up Jasper's ass and his cock and plunged in balls deep. A huge gasp rose from Jasper and Luther told one of the others to quiet the boy. And there was a cock down his throat quickly. After what seemed like forever Jasper felt a wet feeling deep inside him. That ass is finally big enough to be fuckable. Luther I knew from the first it would be. We just had to make some adjustments. As the day went on Jasper took load after load both ends. Exhausting him by the close of the bar. I know you haven't had anything to eat today so I ordered in. There on a table in the back was a full on buffet. Eat up ordered Luther. We don't ant that ass getting any smaller and those tit's are about ready for a bra. Jasper knew he had no choice so he dug in to the food and he was only half way done when he couldn't take anymore. That's ok it will be ready in the morning when you wake. This was one of the few kindnesses Luther allowed Jasper. And finish it he did the next morning. Luther provided large meals for Jasper expecting them to be finished. And the bar patrons began buying him drinks. They enjoyed the white boy getting drunk throughout the night. They were able to have more fun with him then. On weekends Jasper was dressed up in a frilly mini skirt with no panties and a bra walking the floor in his sparkly high heels giving the patrons easy access to all of Jasper's expansive body. As his tit's developed he got a lot more groping of his boobs. It turns out even gay black men enjoy a big man and when Jasper hit 500 he no longer fit in the room upstairs and it was difficult for him to get up and down the stairs. Luther took a storage room downstairs and converted it to an apartment of sorts. It had a queen sized bed, a shower in the corner with no curtain, anyone that came in while he was showering would have seen the show, and two large refrigerators that Luther kept filled. Jasper was often ordered to go to his room followed by someone. Sometimes he knew the man and sometimes it was a complete stranger. He was ordered to do whatever the man wanted which sometimes it was just a blow job, sometimes a fucking. But this was where he learned to be fisted. The first time this happened Jasper thought he was going to be fucked and the man was just lubing up his ass but when the first few fingers went in he thought he was being stretched out for a big cock. But then another went in and another until the man had his whole hand in his ass. Now Jasper was use to big cocks and he no longer screamed or moaned from the invasion but this was something different and he knew not to complain but as the man worked his arm deeper and deeper he realized what was happening. When he got done he pulled Jasper up and told him to get dressed and as he and the man came out to the bar he motioned to Luther that he had gone slightly past the elbow. And Luther smiled. Enjoying yourself boy? Luther asked? Jasper just looked down. Come here boy let me see. Luther looked and yes there is a gaping hole where his ass should be. Well we just can't have that Luther said and produced the biggest butt plug Jasper had ever seen and a harness to hold it in. Luther swung him around and shoved it in deep not nearly as far as the mans arm went in leaving him still feeling empty. Now boy this isn't going to be locked in place so the men can easily play with you but when not in play I don't want you leaking all over the bar so keep it in. Jasper just nodded his head. Jasper didn't know that Luther was pimping him out and earning quite the sum from Jasper's use. Not a penny did Jasper ever see. But then Jasper hadn't seen any pay since that first week. And they all loved the fat white boy. And the fat white boy found it impossible to think of anything other than life in this bar. There was never a formal announcement but even Jasper knew that through the years he and Luther had become Master and Slave. And Jasper enjoyed it. The ever increasing collars, the bigger and bigger cuffs, and the one thing that was no longer needed was the chastity device once his cock was enveloped by his belly. Even if he could get hard, which he didn't, he was afraid Luther would castrate him if he did, the cage was no longer necessary. Jasper craved the attention of Luther and the other black men but Luther viewed Jasper as property. Just as any other item in the bar. And that was all that he was. Luther made sure that Jasper never got too big to be bed bound he wanted the white boy on display as slow as he was. Luther was even considering getting another bar back and was quite open to the possibility of another white boy. Did you need a job?
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-plight-of-titus
Date: Wed, 18 Mar 2020 15:09:18 +0000 (UTC) From: [email protected] Subject: The Plight of Titus Good Boy You Are... (A muscle boy story for you) "AWWWWWW GOD, you blasted fuckeroos!!!" professional bodybuilder, Titus Humphreys babbled through trembling lips... ...as his clamped nipples began heating up...AGAIN... ...for what seemed to the colossally built muscle man, the umpteenth time that late afternoon... "Turned the electronic tit clamps on my nipples on again!!! AWWWWWW GOD, when my cock gets hard this time, please, PLEASE, I'm begging you guys, make me cum this time!!!" One of the two men in the room, or, to be more precise, in the room that was made up and fashioned to look like a medieval torture dungeon, grinned at Titus as he held the remote control in his hand, which controlled the electronic tit clamps on the muscle man's nipples, said, "Not yet Titus good boy you are, not yet..." and to be spitefully sadistic he pressed a button on the remote control... ...which caused the tit clamps to heat up and vibrate all the more... "AWWWWWW GODDDD, no fair you fucker!!!" Titus ranted and stood quivering in the iron shackles and chains on his feet and around his neck and his hands chained behind him that held him fast, secure, and in place... ...all his great muscularity and massive strength useless to him at that moment... "Every time you vibrate and heat up my damned man tits I get all hard in the cock...AND I NEED to cum!!! You fuckeroo bastards!!!" Looking down at Titus's cock and balls, as they hung out of the shredded front of his blue posing trunks, the second guy in the room chuckled, sounding totally merciless, and said, "Yes Titus good boy you are, so it would appear at that... ...and true to your word, your cock is engorging and stiffening... ...AGAIN... "How many times does that come to since we have you here?" Through clenched teeth the helpless bodybuilder seethed, "I've lost count you fuckeroos!! And as for what you just called your having me here, that translates into the fact that you and your dopey buddy there have kidnapped my ass!!! AWWWWWW GOD, my man tits, my POOR man tits!!" "HEH, kidnapped your ass is right, and the rest of you as well, and look at how your cock is inflating again!!" the second guy in the dungeon room laughed. "And how are your balls feeling at this round, Titus good boy you are?" the guy holding the remote control asked the captive bodybuilder. "Like I've got the biggest bluest case of blue balls ever known to mankind," Titus panted breathlessly, as his newly totally erect and at least nine inches of tube steak stuck out entirely stiff... ...and once again that late afternoon, dribbling massive dollops of pre cum. "At the very least dudes, tell me why, WHY, you're doing this to me!!" "HEH, let's just say it's all in the name of one of your competitors in your upcoming weightlifting competition winning Titus good boy you are," the guy who was not holding the remote control answered Titus' question. "That makes no sense whatsoever!!" Titus railed and shook in his shackles and chains. "Correct Titus good boy you are, it makes no sense at all, it makes dollars, dollars, dollars upon dollars for us, when you lose your next upcoming weightlifting competition," the guy not holding the remote control again responded to Titus. At the sound of the super handsome, well-built guy mentioning his next and upcoming weightlifting competition, Titus was able to take a small feeling of comfort in the fact that he would be competing... ...which translated to him that his two kidnappers would eventually let him go... ...but in the meantime, there was still the torture to endure that they were subjecting him to... ...and it was the strangest form of torture he had ever heard of... ...to cause his cock to engorge via the electronic tit clamps fastened to his enormous nipples... ...and then, THEN, not allow him to shoot his load... ...and next to turn off the vibrating tit clamps so his erection would subside... ...only to, within a few minutes turn the vibrating heated tit clamps back on again and get his cock all worked up and "painfully at that point", erect yet again...and NOT allow him to cum... What a case of edging this was he was being forced to endure the bodybuilder thought miserably... "AWWWWWW GAWD, FUCK!!!!" Titus panted crazily as the heated vibrating tit clamps tortured his nipples and his cock was inflating, as if it were a balloon... ...and his testicles, churning and aching in their sac, hung lower than ever before in all his 25 years of life... "My, my next weightlifting competition is tomorrow night at Sutton Hall!!" the bodybuilder gasped, sweating now, his godlike body glistening... "and I'm competing against my bodybuilder bud, Adonis...AWWWWWW, FUCKKKK, feels awful what you guys are doing to me here!! I can't stop getting hard, YOU FUCKEROOS!!!" Fuckeroos, where in all fucks did you ever come up with that, Titus good boy you are?" the guy not holding the remote control asked the captive bodybuilder. "If you must know, it dates back to when I was a kid, just like when people, you two bastards included, call me Titus good boy you are, AWWWWWWWW!!!!" Titus replied, as his flagpole of an erection bobbed up and down in front of him, droplets of pre cum oozing from his piss slit. "But what does this that you're doing to me here have to do with me competing against Adonis tomorrow night?" "All will be explained to you in due time, Titus good boy you are," the guy holding the remote control responded this time. Then, the guy not holding the remote control grinned devilishly at his partner in crime, and said, "Hey Otis, before we turn off the tit clamps this time and deflate his erect cock again, let's work his nuts a bit. I bet that'll get some good sounding grunts out of Titus good boy here, Titus muscle head..." The guy with the remote control slipped the device into a back pocket of his jeans, smiled at his buddy, and said, "Sounds like a plan to me, Cleeve." As the two men, who at least Titus knew were named Cleeve and Otis, (which really did him no good at all), hunkered down at the bodybuilder's dangling on display testicles, he pleaded, "AWWWWWW NO, no you fuckeroos!!! Not my balls!!! They're real sensitive on a normal basis! But with what you bastards have been doing to my cock via my poor man tits my balls will be even MORE sensitive...and...AWWWWWWW FUCCKKKERRROOOOOS!!!" Titus' tirade was cut short as Cleeve and Otis each slurped one of his kiwi-sized testicles into their mouths... ...and began by swirling their big tongues round and round them... "AWWWWW, as if I said nothing, you monsters from hell!!!" Titus roared. "I'm not like most guys who love to have their balls worked over this way! I even make sure my girlfriend doesn't go near my balls when she sucks my cock...AWWWWWWW FUCK, pain you lowlife bastards!!" After soaking the bodybuilder's balls with their saliva, Cleeve and Otis graduated to sucking Titus' gonads, and applying immense pressure to them at the same time... ...which to the muscle boy's surprise caused his engorging cock to inflate all the more... Looking down through tear-filled eyes he watched as even bigger droplets of pre cum oozed from his piss slit... "FUCKEROOS!" Titus panted miserably... ...as next, his two captors went to work chewing on his balls... "AYYYYYYYYY, PLEASE, PLEASE, stop this!!!" the bodybuilder reeled, rattling again in his chains. "I can feel that shit in my man tits...and it doesn't feel good!!!" But instead of heeding the young man's pleas, Cleeve and Otis chewed and sucked even harder on Titus' testicles, causing his head to spin into a reverse orbit of sorts it seemed... Through clenched teeth, Titus shilled, "REEEEEEEERRRRHHHHHH!!!!" A good (bad?) fifteen minutes later, Titus' captors ceased torturing his balls and got back to their feet in front of him. "Okay Otis, turn off the tit clamps again," Cleeve ordered and Otis did as he was told, showing the captive bodybuilder who it was that was in charge here. "NO, NO...make me cum, come on you guys!" Titus pleaded. "Every time you make my cock go soft after getting it all jacked up it feels awful!" Cupping the bodybuilder's chin in one big hand, Cleeve said, "Titus good boy you are, you're not here to feel good...HA!" Titus pulled his chin out of Cleeve's hand and barked in the man's face, "You can say that again you fuckeroo! Ever since you two kidnappers earlier captured me out of the gym locker room I haven't felt good...AT ALL!!!" And as his cock deflated once more, Titus, in an attempt to not concentrate on the awful pain he was feeling, allowed his tortured mind to return to the scene of the crime, namely, when Cleeve and Otis had managed to easily capture him in the locker room of the gym where he had been working out that afternoon... It was him and his two personal trainers, Dave and Neil, in the locker room, standing in front of Titus' locker before the bodybuilder would strip out of his posing trunks, sneakers and calf length white sweat socks to hit the showers...or so Titus thought... "Man, thanks for that two hour intense workout you two just put me through," Titus said as he dialed the combination on his lock. "There's no way I won't beat Adonis at tomorrow night's weightlifting competition. I feel so pumped up that my muscles seem to be flexing involuntarily." "Well, that is what you pay us for Titus good boy you are," Dave said and ruffled the bodybuilder's sweat soaked hair. "Plus we like seeing you win, I have no doubt you'll be heading to the next Olympics," Neil added. "But if you want to achieve that you have to really do everything we tell you and subject you to. Is that clear?" "It's clear bud," Titus said as he then pulled his locker door open. "And I would expect you guys, as my trainers to put me through torturous workouts, not just so I can beat Adonis tomorrow night, but like you just said Neil, to get me to the next Olympics. That would be a dream come true for me." "Good attitude Titus good boy you are," Neil said. "And from what me and Dave here heard, lots of people are betting on you to win tomorrow night." Titus grinned from ear to ear, and said, "Those people who bet on me are going to be very happy, and maybe very rich after I thwart Adonis' ass...HEH..." "Anyway, we'll be on our way so you can get showered and into your street clothes, Titus good boy you are," Dave said as the bodybuilder opened his locker to get his toiletries for his upcoming shower...or so Titus thought... "Okay guys, and thanks again for a great workout," Titus said as his two trainers turned to leave him alone. "Hey, aren't you guys forgetting something?" "Oh yeah," Dave said, and the two trainers each gave Titus' BIG nipples a good squeeze and twist each, sending chills through the young bodybuilder. "AHHH, nice, always brings me luck to win a competition when my man tits are squeezed and twisted," Titus said as the two trainers let go of his nipples. "Thanks buds..." Chuckling, the two personal trainers walked off and left the locker room... "Now for a nice semi warm shower to really get my muscles working," Titus mused as he bent down unlaced his sneakers, shucked them off his feet, peeled off his sweat sopped white sweat socks, stuffed them in his sneakers and stood straight back up again... He reached into his locker for his shower shoes, dropped them to the floor and slipped them onto his gigantic feet. THEN... It was as he was reaching for his waterproof satchel of toiletries that from out of the blue, from behind him, Titus was pushed forward by two strong pairs of hands... ...pushed forward to the point that his head literally landed in his locker...facing forward... "HOOOOOFFFFF!!!" Titus grunted in surprise, thinking it was his two personal trainers having some mean fun with him. "What is this you guys? I thought you left..." But before the bodybuilder could even make an attempt to pry his head out of the locker he felt a hand pressed against the back of his head...and pushed his head forward further into the locker, so that his forehead hit the end of the inside of the locker... "OWWWWWWW, what the fuck you guys???" Titus reeled... ...and then heard an unfamiliar male voice meanly say, "Looks like he needs another good blow..." And with that, Titus felt his head pulled back...and then pushed forward again againsty the end of the inside of his locker... "UHHHHHHH!!!" the bodybuilder reeled this time and fell backward... ...into the strong arms of two men... "HA, the bigger they are the harder they fall," one of the men said. Then, in a stupor, Titus felt himself hoisted off the floor between the two men... ...and carried unseen out the back door of the locker room and to a van that was parked behind the gym... When the bodybuilder came fully back to consciousness he found himself being balanced on his shower shoes clad feet, while two men that he had never seen before in his life were quickly chaining him into a standing position via his ankles, his wrists chained behind him...and a chain around his neck as well... "HEY, HEY!!! Who are you guys??? And what the fuck are you doing to me???" Titus babbled, shaking his head from side to side and taking in the sight of his two captors... ...and then he gulped hard when he took in the sight of the room fashioned as a medieval dungeon that he was in... "What is this shit??? You two have kidnapped me!!! HOLY FUCKAROOS!!!" "Relax Titus good boy you are," the guy on his left side said with a grin. "This is all in the name of professional bodybuilding." "RELAX??? You expect me to relax???" Titus ranted and rattled in his chains. "Fuck, I'm all chained up here!" "With one more set of implements to come," the guy on the bodybuilder's right side said, him also grinning. Once Titus was chained to the floor and well-balanced, the two men stepped in front of him, hunkered down at his massive-sized nipples and slurped one of them each into their mouths... "AWWWWWWW, AWWWW fucks, fuckaroos, got guys working my man tits here!!" the young bodybuilder seethed, his cock, still in his intact posing trunks, instantly reacting. "HEY, only my trainers get to work my man tits...it's for good luck! Stop sucking and chewing my man tits, NOW!!!" But instead the two men feasted heartier and more and more energetically on Titus' nipples, really sucking and slurping the fucking fucks out of them... "UHHHHHHHH!!!! Always gets me all hard in the cock when my girlfriend works my man tits!" Titus grunted. "Never thought two guys working them would have the same effect...FUCKEROOS!!!" "Man tits don't know one mouth from another," one of the men laughed and quickly sucked Titus' nub back into his mouth and resumed his work on it. After nearly fifteen minutes of continuous work on his nipples, the two men ceased what they were doing. As his nipples tingled and his then erect cock twitched in his posing trunks, Titus watched the taller of the two men reach into his jeans pocket... ...and he brought out the strangest looking pair of tit clamps the bodybuilder had ever seen... ...as at the same time the shorter, dopey looking guy brought a remote control device out of his jeans pocket... "What is this???" Titus asked softly... ...and then, without a word, the guy holding the tit clamps snapped them meanly and tightly onto the bodybuilder's nipples. "ARRRRRRRRHHHH!!!! Oh holy shit, FUCKAROOS you guys are!" Titus screamed in the sudden pain. The two men watched in glee as Titus suffered the effects of the nipple clamps... ...meaning a mixture of pain and ecstasy as he writhed in the chains that held him fast and in place... A few seconds past and then Titus watched in total helplessness as the bigger of the two men stepped in front of him, grabbed the front of his posing trunks, and in one fast yank downwards, shredded them, causing the bodybuilder's erect cock and big testicles to flop out and onto total display... "OH FUCKAROO you are destroyed my posing trunks!" Titus roared next. "What's the point of all this you two???" Instead of offering an explanation to the bodybuilder's question, the dopey looking guy pressed a button on the remote control device he was holding... ...and to Titus' surprise, the tit clamps on his nipples began vibrating...AND heating up... "AWWWWWW SHIIIITTT, what is this torture???" the captive bodybuilder panted at the two men. "Well, you see Titus good boy you are, very soon, because of the way those electronic tit clamps are working your nipples, your cock will be rock hard, your balls will hang low...and very quickly at that..." the bigger of the two men said, smiling evilly at the suffering bodybuilder. "And once you're hard as the man of steel you'll want to, no doubt, shoot your load..." "You bet I'll want to shoot a load, when my man tits are worked and I get hard I can shoot a few loads!" Titus reeled. "It's part of the reason my girlfriend works my man tits...but she doesn't torture them like you two are doing right now...FUCKAROOS you guys are!" "And just as we thought," the bigger guy went on. "Because you see Titus good boy you are, once you're hard and your balls are low hanging...we're not, NOT going to let you shoot your load. What we're going to do once you're hard and dripping pre cum we'll turn off the electronic tit clamps, your cock will go soft...and then we'll turn the electronic tit clamps back on and get you hard all over again...and then turn them off again...and on again...over and over..." Titus' eyes popped open as wide as saucers. He looked at the bigger of the two men, and whispered through trembling lips, "But-but- that will drive me crazy..." "A big strong muscle boy like you will survive it Titus good boy you are," the bigger guy said, and then... ...he and his buddy watched as Titus's cock began its journey to erection... ...an erection that would know no relief...for a good (bad?) long while... As his cock engorged Titus moaned in a man's passion...and pain... Now, the captive bodybuilder allowed his mind to return to the present... He looked down at his manhood and saw that his cock had again gone soft... ...and he STILL hadn't shot a load...and true to his word, he was beginning to feel like he would lose his mind... As the not vibrating now tit clamps cooled down, but continued to chew the beef of Titus' nubs, he looked up at the ceiling and whispered, "Cum...need to cum...please next time let me cum..." As the captive bodybuilder pleaded his case, Cleeve stepped up to him, grabbed his chin and lowered his head so they were looking at each other, face to face... "One more time Titus good boy you are," Cleeve said, moving his face close enough to the bodybuilder's to kiss his lips...and Titus had the distinct feeling that the man was going to kiss him, but he felt it would be the goddamned kiss of death... "One more time we'll engorge that cock of yours...and then you'll cum...and cum...and cum..." "I-I guess then I should say thank you," Titus whispered in Cleeve's face, his lips grazing the man's as he spoke. "HEH, after you cum the cum you're going to cum Titus good boy you are, you won't be thanking us at all, seeing as after you cum your energy will be sapped...totally sapped..." Cleeve teased the captured bodybuilder. "That's why we did what we did to your cock...and at tomorrow night's weightlifting competition, our boy Adonis will win hands down..." Before Titus could voice his rage over the twisted turn of events that he had been kidnapped for, Cleeve hooked a big hand around the back of the young man's neck and clamped his mouth down on the bodybuilder's... ...and to his total shock, the bodybuilder found himself responding to Cleeve's kiss... ...the kiss of death as he had called it... ...and as he and Cleeve locked lips and tongue battled Titus thought about how his trainers had told him how all bets were on him to win the competition tomorrow night... BUT NOW, now with what Cleeve and Otis had done to him, he knew that once he shot the load that was pent-up in his chock filled testicles he would indeed be sapped...and chances were that Adonis would win for sure...FUCKAROO!!! When Cleeve stepped away from Titus he looked at Otis, grinned, and said, "Turn up the tit clamps one more time Otis..." "AWWWWWW NO, NO..." Titus pleaded. "Now that I know what your plan is, please stop this and let me go...I don't want to cum after all!" As the tit clamps came to vibrating and heated life and as Titus' cock again began engorging, his two captors laughed and laughed... ...and this time, as the bodybuilder's cock inflated to an erect state, Cleeve and Otis again hunkered down at his aching testicles... ...and began mouth working one of them each... "AWWWWWWW, NO, NO..." Titus pleaded miserably. "All of this is going to make me cum like never before in all my twenty-five years...you miserable fuckeroos!!!" Otis stopped working Titus' testicle that he had in his mouth, looked up at the chained and helpless muscle boy and said, "True that, Titus good boy you are...the upcoming blast you're going to experience is definitely going to be one for the history books...HEH..." and with that, Otis sucked the captive bodybuilder's testicle back into his mouth... "HUHHHHHH!!!!!!" Titus gasped, squeezed his eyes shut... ...and thought about how he was screwed, totally screwed where winning the next night's competition was concerned... After mouth-working and mouth-torturing the bodybuilder's testicles to the point where they appeared to be the size of golf balls, Cleeve and Otis let Titus' gonads slip out of their mouths... Looking down at the two men still hunkered by his swollen and aching testicles Titus watched them grin at each other...and then Cleeve said, "It's milking time for the steer, Otis..." and he meanly squeezed and twisted the bodybuilder's testicles...getting a good loud shriek of pain out of him... "Oh God no, please you guys, I need my manly energy," Titus pleaded... ...but instead he heard Cleeve say to Otis, "You can go first feasting on his good boy he is nectar..." and with that Otis gobbled the bodybuilder's steely hard cock into his mouth... ...as Cleeve quickly got to his feet and stood beside Titus...as the young man groaned in passion as Otis simply held his cock in his mouth, not sucking it... "OOOOOOOOOOOO...I-I can't cum this way..." Titus whimpered. "I need to be sucked..." "No Titus good boy you are," Cleeve chuckled and reached for the tit clamp on the bodybuilder's left nipple. "AWWWWWW NO, NOOOOO!!!!" Titus begged, knowing all too well what was about to happen. Still chuckling, sounding totally sadistic, Cleeve unclipped the tit clamp from Titus' left nipple. "AWWWWWWWW!!!! OOOOOO you fuckaroo!!!" the bodybuilder screamed in a mixture of painful agony and ecstasy as the blood rushed back into his nipple... ...at what felt like thousands of miles per hour... ...and as Otis held the muscle boy's erection tightly in his mouth, Titus began spurting his load... "OOOOOOOHHHH, CUMMING, I'm fucking losing my load, losing my load, losing my loads!!!!" Titus ranted, as now, Otis was sucking the bodybuilder's cock...and gulping down each rope of his sperm as it erupted from his wide sexy slit. "AAAAAAAHHHHHH...FUCKAROOS..." "You'll not win that weightlifting competition tomorrow night Titus good boy you are," Cleeve laughed as he watched the bodybuilder cum and cum and cum... Behind his back, Titus balled his chained hands into big fists, clenched his teeth...and spurted more and more of his sexy mess down Otis' gullet... "CLEEVE!!!!" Titus screamed. "IT, IT feels as if I'll NEVER stop cumming...oh FUCK, what you fuckaroos did to me here!!!" "HEH, that was the plan all along Titus good boy you are," Cleeve laughed and pecked the bodybuilder on his sweat sopped face. "And just think, this is only the first of what will be two cums for you today...you still have another clamped nipple there...HEH!" "RRRRRHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Titus reeled, looking down at Otis, as the man, with a look of sheer ecstasy on his face went on and on gulping down his manly juices. "HOOOOOOOO, bad enough you're making me lose my loads, but stealing it too by scoffing it down, YOU FUCKAROO!!!!" Finally, with his head spinning, his godlike body sopped in sweat, Titus' orgasm subsided... As Otis let the bodybuilder's cock slip from his mouth he slowly got to his feet and said, "Fucking fucks Cleeve, he tastes like magic..." Panting crazily, Titus reeled in Otis' face, "Yeah that I do! And I know that for a fact because my girlfriend always tells me that! Did you hear me you fuckaroo??? MY GIRLFRIEND!!!" Without either of the men saying a word, Cleeve hunkered down in front of the captive bodybuilder, slurped his semi hardness into his mouth, and once that cock was in Cleeve's mouth it returned to an erect state almost instantly... "AWWWWWW NO, not again so soon you lousy as louse bastards!" Titus begged again... ...but this time, it was Otis who took the right sided tit clamp off the bodybuilder's nipple... "ARRRRHHHHHHH...and here I cum again...YOU FUCKAROOS!!!!" Titus ranted once more through clenched teeth, this time tears of rage flowing from his eyes. "FFFUUUUCCCKKK, and so soon again at that...lousy louses!!!! AND...like Otis before him, Cleeve gulped down Titus' juices most greedily...almost as if his very life depended upon it... ...but in Cleeve's mind, what it depended on was Adonis winning the upcoming competition... "OOOOOOOOOOOO..." Titus squeaked now in a high-pitched tone of voice, gurgling as well, and crying, as he shot his second load, loads, down Cleeve's throat... "FUCKEROOS, gonna cause me to lose tomorrow night's competition..." Once more, when the bodybuilder was spent, cum-wise, Cleeve let his cock slip out of his mouth, and he quickly got to his feet next to Otis... "Well Otis, I would think that should have done it," Cleeve said, licking the remnants of Titus' sperm from his lips. "And you were right, he tastes great...HEH..." "You lousy louses and fuckaroos!" Titus shouted at his two captors. "What a shitty and fucked up thing you did to me!!! But now that you've had your goddamned twisted fun with me, I DEMAND you let me go." Cleeve and Otis grinned at each other, and in response to the bodybuilder's demand they each clocked him hard against one jaw each... "HOOOFFFFFF!!!" Titus grunted, hung his head down...and slipped into unconsciousness. "Such a Titus good boy you are," Cleeve laughed at the now knocked out bodybuilder. EPILOGUE... When Titus came to he found himself back in the locker room of the gym where Cleeve and Otis had captured him... As he pulled himself to a sitting position on the floor, groaning miserably he saw that his shredded posing trunks were gone. Obviously the two fuckeroos had kept them as a twisted sort of trophy of their conquest of him... His nipples ached horribly and his forehead and jaws still smarted from the blows they'd been dealt... "DAMN, what a fucked up thing to have happened to me," Titus said to himself as he slowly managed to pull himself to his big feet, and he saw that he was still wearing his shower shoes. "May as well shower before I get out of here and head on home...and then tomorrow lose the weightlifting competition against Adonis...SHIT!" As Titus reached into his locker for his shower toiletries two janitors entered the locker room... "Hey good evening Titus good boy you are," the first janitor said when he saw the young bodybuilder. "You're sure here late tonight. Getting in some extra training time before tomorrow's competition against Titus?" Titus stood there with everything he had on total display, smiled at the two men and said, "Hey there Frank, hey there Axel. Yeah, you could say that Frank, extra training time...yeah, that's it...I'm uh, going to take a shower and then I'll be out of your way so you can get to cleaning..." But as he spoke, it wasn't lost on the professional bodybuilder how the two janitors were stealing glances at his massive nipples... ...and then an idea popped into his head, as if by magic... "Guys, oh guys, I see what you're looking at, go for it, fucking go for it..." Titus pleaded. The two janitors smiled happily, Frank said, "Oh yes Titus good boy you are, we always wanted at those massive nipples of yours..." ...and with that, Titus propped himself up against a closed row of lockers...and the two janitors each took one of the bodybuilder's nipples into their mouths... ...and sucked, slurped and chewed the bejesus out of them... "AWWWWWHHH yes, yes guys...reinvigorate me..." Titus whispered...and to himself he said, "Won't Cleeve and Otis get the surprise of their lives tomorrow...when I win the competition after all...HEH..." The next day, Cleeve and Otis watched the weightlifting competition on TV... ...and they watched as Titus won... "DAMN, what could have gone wrong???" Cleeve thundered as he watched on the TV as Titus' two trainers stood at his sides for photo ops... ...and when Cleeve saw the devilish grin on the bodybuilder's face, he knew that it was meant for him and Otis... "We just lost a bundle," Cleeve said miserably. "FUCK...Titus good boy you're NOT...FUCK!!!" /The End/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-catamite/the-catamite-5
Date: Sat, 9 Sep 2023 14:43:56 +0100 From: J <[email protected]> Subject: The Catamite - Part 5: Battle cries The Catamite - Part 5: Battle cries Dear readers, thank you for your feedback for my previous series, "Top to Bottom." https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/top-to-bottom/ This is part 5 of my other series, `The Catamite' - feedback and suggestions for both series are always welcome - Email me on: [email protected] It's been fun writing! Also - please donate to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html "Fuck!!! Yeeeaaaarrrgghh!! Agh!! Angh, angh, aghhh!!!" the heaving agonised panting of Sextus' naked sweat covered body echoed around the forest clearing. He screamed over and over again for help, his proud and handsome Roman face contorted in agony as the barbarian chieftain behind bent him over, spread-eagled like the prone defeated Roman emblem, his hands and feet tied to stakes in the ground with coarse ropes as his body was slung prone over a log in the open air. How different things had been just a fortnight ago when he had been luxuriating on his bed in his grand villa, burying his 8 inch cock deep into the slick gripping asshole of his pretty toned 17 year old British slave Mastus as the youth had squirmed in discomfort beneath his muscular lean frame. Sextus had anticipated the conquest of another tribe by the mighty Roman Empire, accruing wealth to his estates and more enslaved booty and slaves than he could fuck for ten lifetimes. Now, as it were, the boot was on the other foot as 25 year old Sextus found his 6 foot 2 inch hunky athletic wrestler body restrained beyond his control for the first time in his life, subdued by a dirty barbarian Briton. Rewind mentally and two weeks ago, Sextus had chuckled to himself as Mastus' forehead had dripped with sweat as the cherry-blonde slave strained mightily, squealing in a mixture of fear, pain and indignation as Sextus, a prime specimen of Roman man-meat had raped his slave's tight shithole over and over again while he waited for Julius to arrive. He had bred the teen daily for a week after purchasing him at a slave market auction, loving the feel of the silky warm anal tunnel that gripped his cock like a virgin's asscunt with every thrust of his fat prick. The teen's yelps and screams had died down a little over the first few days but whenever Sextus Clavius grabbed the British barbarian teen's asscheeks and spread them wide as he fucked him rapidly doggystyle the painful moans crescendoed to a pleasurable cacophony of grunts and pleas for mercy that only turned Sextus on even more until he sprayed the boy's bowel lining with a gushing torrent of cum while the nubile slave bottomed out on his pistoning cock as the fluids dripped out of the plugged and contracting hole. Now in some godforsaken forest, amidst his own futile wriggling, a wave of fear washed over Sextus as the gruff Britannic chieftain spat on his lower back, scooping up the spittle to coat his stiff 6-inch cock. "Fucking Roman bitch!! Spread your bitch hole wide for me!" the Briton pawed lustily at the taut, slim lower back of Sextus, feeling the heat radiating from the 25 year old Roman loins, roughly grabbing the muscular thighs. Those thighs that had for so long been used to force apart the legs of his struggling slaves of whatever sex in his plush chambers whenever he had felt like raping, pillaging and taking pleasure from their tight conquered holes. Now it was the aristocratic Roman hunk's turn to quiver in fear as the cool breeze blew against his exposed virgin anus in the middle of the forest, streaks of grime, dirt and sweat from the battlefield streaking across his taut muscular buttocks as beads of sweat and spit dribbled down his glutes. "No!! Stop!! Julius!!! Help me!!" Sextus cried out as he felt the tip of the chieftain's fat prick throb against his tight virginal ass-ring that clenched with every pounding fearful heartbeat while the stocky man behind panted with anticipation. The Briton's rampant 6-inch cock throbbed with his own heartbeat that leapt with lust for the defeated Roman's asshole. "Nooo!!" Sextus shouted defiantly, "I'll give you gold and wealth - Release me, return me and I'll make your rich and spare you!" The heathen Britons whom he and Julius had been sent to subdue on the Roman frontier in Britannia had laughed at his pitiful pride, spitting at the prone hunk. Barely hours before, Sextus had led the charge on horseback alongside Julius in his chariot, taunting the filthy barbarians before the battle with the customary Roman arrogance, threatening to enslave them and rape their daughters and wives before sending the survivors to be fed to the lions as they had done the year before. Now he was about to have a taste of his own medicine, as the proud handsome muscular Roman was bent over, "Fucking fat chance, stupid Roman whore," the British chieftain roared to the acclamation of his crowd of barbarian troops. "Fuck him hard already!! Just cunt that ass out!!" shouted the crowd. Sextus felt a sudden pressure against his sphincter, the cold dirty spit-greased cockhead of the heavyset Briton prying apart the puckering dry asslips. Sextus suddenly remembered how Mastus had shivered in fear - how the petrified British teen had struggled the first time Sextus had bent his legs back to his ears and deflowered him balls deep in just a couple of thrusts as Mastus clutching uselessly at the silk sheets, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the bedsheets while the Roman stud had plowed his hard 8-inch cocksword deep into his boypussy with barely a gob of saliva from one of the attendant slaves who slept at the foot of his bed to ease the forced entry. "Annnnggghhh!!!! Dominos!!! Mercy, please, stop, unnnnghhhh!!!! Owwwwww arrgghhh!!!" the toned British teen had cried, bawled and pleaded to no avail as his muscular Roman owner had bred him rapidly like a bitch in heat. The irony wasn't lost on Sextus that his captors might be the very same tribe as his teen fuck-slave Mastus. Sextus had left the lightly muscled strawberry blonde slave chained to the bedposts in his tent less than half a mile away, freshly fucked and speeded that very morning so he could unleash his pre-battle hormones. Mastus had strained at the leather straps that morning while his master Sextus fucked his pre-battle pleasure into his pained stretched anus. "Unnnnghhh mmmmmaaarrrghhhh!!! eeiiioooowwwwww!!!" Mastus howled and whined, struggling as Sextus rabbit fucked him, cunting the 17 year old jockpussy until it spasmed and twitched, gripping his rigid member like a tight glove. As the fat cockhead rammed his unwilling prostate Mastus elicited a spurt of hands-free cum from the teenage cock, triggering his own heavy climax into the bitchpussy's tight throbbing hole which now dripped Sextus' copious cum-load onto the silk sheets. Small pink streaks of ass-mucus dribbled from Mastus' torn hole as the teen called on all his gods for retribution this day, and a chance for freedom. He could smell the wet English air outside, hundreds of miles away from the heat of Rome. The smell of freedom denied him, the smell of his homeland so close and yet so far, the stench of cum and ass and sweat and fear cloaking his lightly muscled teenage body as Sextus unsheathed his man-cock from the British teen's ass-cunt. "Unnnnghhhh!! Arrrghhhh!!!" Mastus had howled in discomfort as his master suddenly jabbed back to the hilt, his 8-inch prong erupting again as he bred the teenager, teasing the teenage ass-pussy one last time before wrenching his battering cock out of the raw asspussy as strings of cum dribbled onto the sheets from the inflamed hole, the Roman stud grunting with pleasure as his slave winced in pain, mentally sending curses to the underworld as he begged his gods for deliverance. Two hours later the Romans had commenced battle at noon, fully expecting a thumping victory within a couple of hours. An army of a few thousand would soon crush the rabble of eight hundred British rebels in this clearing twenty miles west of Londinium. All surviving captured soldiers would be enslaved, their wives and children too, with an expected booty of at least a thousand souls: 250 to Julius, 250 to Sextus, 250 to the emperor and the rest divided amongst the troops by ballot. Holding a lance astride his favourite steed Sextus looked the very picture of a hunky chiselled godly Roman statue as he commanded the legion forward. His fellow patrician and boyhood friend, 25 year old Julius stood proudly in his battle-chariot, the slightly loosened wheel axle pins barely noticed in the commotion as the legion marched in tight formation towards the barbarian heathen Brits. The sun shone as grey clouds drifted past. They advanced towards a forest clearing as the horde of barbarians gathered, a cacophony of noise rising from their rabble. "For the glory of Rome!!" Sextus shouted. "Attack!! Show no mercy!!" Yelled Julius. Both men spurred their troops on as the barbarians charged into the melee, arrows raining down on either side. It hadn't been ten minutes into the throes of battle when one of the wheels from Julius' chariot spun out of control, the axle buckling suddenly as a bolt came loose which sent the chariot careening into the left flank of the troops. Sextus was forced to tug hard on the reins of his horse to prevent a collision. The two men shouted with frustration and mild panic as their horses reared and Julius stumbled on his chariot platform, thrown forwards out of the armoured chariot so he landed face down on the grass as the clash of steel and spears resounded and the startled troops tried to resume their formations. It was one of those small turning points that can sway the course of a battle because just at that very moment, a grey shadow covered the sun overhead as a partial eclipse cast its pallor over the battlefield. The Romans flinched mentally as the Britons took the fallen chariot, disarrayed troops and sudden eclipse as a sign that the battle would turn in their favour, pressing forwards and dividing the ranks of their smug invaders. Savage battle cries echoed as they cut the legionnaries down. Five cloaked Britons surrounded Julius, clubs and maces hovering over the fallen Roman while another five slung ropes and cast whips at Sextus. "Arrrggghhhh!!" He yelped in pain as one lash cracked overhead and stung his back, causing him to flinch forwards and tumble sideways while the barbarians brought his steed down with their ropes and, pointing their spears at the fallen Roman, forced him to his knees. Barely 40 minutes into the chaos of battle, what was meant to be a foregone conclusion to collect a thousand slaves and cut off some rebellious British heads had turned into a rout of a proud Roman legion and the capture of their two muscular strapping leaders. As the soldiers were disarmed and taken prisoner, an entirely different fate awaited Julius and Sextus. The barbarians swept through the nearby Roman encampment, where Mastus lay tied to Sextus' bedposts in his well-appointed tent. Calling out to his compatriots in their native tongue, he could scarcely believe the turn of events as he gathered what clothes and coins he could find. Before he turned to flee the camp, Mastus caught sight of Rhodus and Curthan, the good looking bed slaves of his master's fallen friend Julius who were locked in his tent. They looked as tired and fucked up as himself and he surmised they had probably spent the better part of the journey to Britannia servicing the ramped up libido of their master. Hacking their bonds free, the three scurried out of the encampment, following the victorious British tribe back to the forest clearing as their hearts pounded with excitement. Mastus in particular found his pulse quickening and his cock hardening as it soon became apparent that the muscular ripped physique of the man bent over a mossy log with his hands and feet tied to stakes in the ground belonged to none other than the golden haired stud who started and ended Mastus' days and nights with a throbbing painful fuck. "Free me!!!! How dare you!!!" Sextus shouted hoarsely. "Don't be fools, I can spare you and give you gold!! Don't you fucking dare come any closer!!!" Sextus felt further pressure against his virgin anal sphincter, the gruff British chieftain prying apart his muscular but cheeks which clenched in futility as two rough hands held them apart. "Arrrrrrrnnnnnnngggghhhhhhhhh!!!!! Unnnnnnghhhh Unnnngghghhhhh!!!!" He screeched as one invading digit pressed in roughly to the second knuckle, breaching past the muscular anal opening which clenched tightly as he tried to expel the invader, panting hard. "Coooooooooo!!!!! She's a tight one, boys!!!" Laughed the chieftain, pushing the rest of his pudgy index finger in all the way, feeling the heat of the Roman's virgin sanctum as Sextus grunted. "Take it out!!!! take it out!!!!" He yelled in a mixture of rage, pain and fear, wiggling his buttocks while trying hard to shit the finger out. "Look at her, boys! She wants more!!" The chieftain withdrew before shoving two spit-greased fingers roughly into the quivering asshole. "Arrrrngh eeeeeiiiiiiiingggghhh annnnghh!!!" Bellowed Sextus in a shrill voice that twisted in pitch, both from the discomfort and the public degradation. He couldn't understand the barbarian's words but he could fully fathom the context. Meanwhile his fallen friend Julius was nowhere in sight and the rest of the troops had been killed or captured. The sharp boring digits dug their way forwards, pushing the remnants of the chieftain's globs of spit a little further into his rectum. Had he been more mentally reconciled to what was to follow, Sextus would probably have welcomed this intrusion and been more willing to have his hole pre-loosened and lubed a bit more. "Fucking take it out, you dirty pig, I'll rip you to pieces and fuck your daughters to death!!!" He shouted, grunting again as he struggled vainly to reject the barbarian's fingers from his virgin ass-cunt. Mercy and compassion were not part of Sextus' repertoire; he never gave any and never expected to have to beg or plead. Mastus stood mesmerised and noted that the British chieftain's ass-fingering of his captive Roman stud was regrettably short-lived - something that Sextus would not have any clue about as he was used to breaking his slaves dick-deep to the balls with his 8-inch prick. Standing behind the prone hunk the British chieftain spat again on his cock, which he slapped across his captive's firm glutes, tracking up and down the ass-crack and nuzzling his throbbing cockhead in anticipation against the clenching muscular cleft. Sextus and been stripped of his military vestments and his cock and balls pressed against the rough surface of the log beneath, his rippled torso straining and his pecs heaving as he strained against his bonds. The chieftain slung a leather belt around the prone stud's neck, bridling him like a mare about to be mounted. He jerked the belt tightly. Sextus gasped in shock, gulping air as his head was jerked sharply backwards like a beast of burden, his tousled dark blond locks flailing as his muscles tensed and he momentarily let down his guard in an effort to avoid choking. Grasping his opportunity, the chieftain pawed at his captive's perfect rounded asscheeks, spreading them so he could lunge forward and press his greased cock at the virgin anal rosebud. He pulled the cheeks tauter and wider for just another instant, thrusting his erect member forward like the lance that had speared Sextus' prize war-horse, impaling the proud Roman stallion. Sextus buckles at the knees for an instant. His head has just been jerked back after a leather belt has been slung around his neck, wrenched into sudden extension with sudden choking force. As his windpipe is compressed he stops clenching his fists tightly around the stakes on the ground to which he has been bound. His back and pectoral muscles ripple as he releases his grip and arches back, flailing within his binds to gasp for air. His toes curl, his knees bend and his powerful muscled thighs and glutes involuntarily unclench. In that moment as the British chieftain lunges forward he feels a sharp piercing rip of pain that blasts through his entire being. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!" He howls with a blood-curdling scream, halfway between a squeal or terror and a roar or anguish. "Mmmmmaaaarrrmmmmmppppfffff!!!! Annngghhh!!!!!" His choked screech continues, his lungs running out of air as he expels the air with his futile howls and the belt chokes off the air. The British chieftain's cock splits his virgin anal orifice, pushing the cockhead and a second inch past the previously perfectly tightly puckered asslips as the ring of muscle refused to yield. Sextus maidenhead was tight, clenching on the invading cock with a vice-like grip. In his fog of confusion the Roman's taut muscles are displayed for all in their nude glory as he remembers all the virgin fucksluts he had raped in front of his slaves in a similar manner, cunting their pussies and asses with his battering rod to fill their fuckholes with his superior Roman seed as he choke-fucked them, loving the sensation as their unwilling tight holes spasmed on his cock while they dipped in and out of consciousness and tried to scream from the pain and fear. Hell, he remembered how he had fucked one bitch so hard that despite a thorough lavage, she had soiled herself on his cock as she had passed out. As he realises his ass might be heading for a similar date his howls of protest are laughed at by the watching barbarian tribe. Mastus stands at the corner, gaping open-mouthed as he sees his former master shout out in fear and anger, the same tones of shock and protest that he himself had yelled for the past four weeks as Sextus had plundered his tight teenage asscunt. Sextus spits and babbles raggedly what few words he can gasp as the ripping pain in his anal canal radiates into his loins and he desperately tries to shit the barbarian cockhead out. "Aammmpppfffggggghh! Oowwwwwww!!!! Ah! Ah!!!!! Pppftttt!!! Stoooop!!! Stop! Stop!!!!! Stop... pffftt arrrrgghhh!!!! Please!!!! Stop!!!! Stop now stop stop owwwwwwww!!!!!!!" Mastus sees what he never thought possible, his gods answering all his prayers as the chieftain's girthy six incher plows forward another inch. "Aaaaoooowwwwww!!!!!" Sextus yelps, feeling every sensation of the spit-lubed cock busting his virginal opening further apart. The tiny corrugated ass-folds around his sphincter scattered further in enforced dilation as the light brown asslips started to fold inwards with the thrust. Mastus saw the Roman attempt to shit the cock out, sniggering as he stepped forward from the crowd and slapped the gasping Sextus across his right cheek, shouting out "yeah good slut!! Push out like a good whore! Push out and let that cock in!!" The sudden intrusion startled and Sextus as the teen who had been his latest unwilling fuck slave barely that morning spat his own words back at him as he inadvertently strained further to bear down and expel the rigid turd of a penis that was disimpacting his rumpled anal canal. "Fffffuuuucckkkkk Aaaaaggh!! Unngh owwww!!! Euuuuurrrrggghhh!!!!! Annnnffffhhh" he howled as another inch slid forwards, realising the discomfort of getting fucked from the receiving end for the first time. The pain was immense as the cock pushed into his anal passage, boring deeper into the hunky Roman's ass-canal as beads of sweat dripped down his face and the barbarian chieftain whacked Sextus across his ass cheeks and shouted in pleasure with the thrill of raping this tight unwilling Roman's proper virgin asspussy. "Yeaaaaah ffffffuuuccckkk splitting your tight pussy open!!!! Yeah bitch, fuck that gash back onto my cock, pussy slave yeah fuck tight fuck!! Gonna break your ass first before your tight hole breaks my cock!!! Haha take my cock in your cunt, let me fuck that slit wide open, fuck fucccccckkkkk unnnnghhh!!!" Like all his previous fuck-slaves Sextus realises his useless straining to oust the impaling penis only aids the ass-rape as his shit-hole is forced to accommodate another man's member, fucking away his dominant veneer as a top muscle stud as the fourth and fifth inch seesaw in and out of his hole while the Briton long-dicks him. Sextus still can't believe this is happening, the shame, humiliation and pain as his anal passage is split further apart with each thrust. After his man-hole is pounded by what feels like another hundred wrenching back and forth thrusts the final inch presses home balls-deep. "Aaaarrrrgh!!!! Noooooo nooooooo!!!! Please take it ooouuut!!!!! Aaaaaaannngghh" he pleads, his brain refusing to submit but his mouth desperately blabbering the words in another vain attempt to cling to his masculinity. The rough balls bang against his asscheeks. "Fucking feel that cock against your clit, bitch, boy...puer!" Mastus chimes in, spitting back the Roman's words which burned deep. He can see the anal ring of muscle clench and involuntarily release as the chieftain steps up the fuck, occasionally pulling out all the way before ramming balls deep into his freshly-cunted Roman twat. "Noooooooo you'll tear me!!! Stoooppppp!!!! Fffffuuuuuccccckkkkk" Sextus bawls in desperation as he experiences the unwelcome sensation of repeated penetration from the receiving end, a power-fuck manoeuvre he loved to force on his sluts but one he found extremely unwelcome as a newly-bitched bottom. Mastus licked his lips as he slapped Sextus again, stunning the stud as his brain struggled to figure out whether to avert his gaze or stare defiantly at his former slave despite the humiliation of his own public ass-rape. Mastus watched spellbound as the chieftain's cock slid out, pulling the sleeve-like inner asslining slightly as the asslips parted when the cock briefly exited. The Roman's freshly-devirginised twat winked back quickly before it was wrenched open again when the chieftain heaved his girth forwards and re-penetrated, banging balls-deep against Sextus' prostate. Mastus reached forward and grasped the prone hunk's semi-hard cock, polishing the knob as the erection stiffened uncomfortably to a full 8 inches while Sextus shook his head in dismay, his cock leaking pre-cum as his hormones and body betrayed him like a field slave or a common beast of burden, which is how he himself had viewed all his fuckees until half an hour ago. Just that morning his slave's ass-tunnel had been prised open to pleasure the same fuck-stick which was now being unceremoniously wanked in synchrony with the rhythmic power strokes of the gruff British chieftain. "Look boys, our hunk's enjoying his maiden fuck from the other end!!!!!" Someone called out, as the crowd laughed. Sextus' face contorts in a grimace. He cannot deny the physical sensations stirring in his loins from the rapid polishing of his glans which he suddenly finds himself thrusting forwards into Mastus' cupped fist, aching for release. "Fuck fuck fuck!!" The chieftain bellows, his hard member hammering rapidly to the hilt, buried like a sword in the unwilling Roman's cleft, plowing into the anal furrow as though he were trying to gouge the silky ass-canal into a proper sloppy pussy. "Agghhhh!! Ungggh!!! Owwww!! Eiiiiooowww" rasps Sextus with each stroke, gasping for air as he becomes all too aware of his own throbbing erection craving for release. High-born Roman men like him were born to dominate and never spilled their seed outside a willing (or unwilling) orifice, fucking selfishly into them like skewered meat to satisfy their lusts. Mastus tightens his grip, rubbing the prone Roman stud's cockhead roughly and quickly. Three of the Britons stepped forward, suddenly jerking their own cocks to the sight of the Roman's ass-rape; as they climaxed suddenly on his face, Sextus was caught by surprise, tasting another man's cum for the first time as he panted for air and groaned from both his rough penetration and the rough wanking hand of his former slave. "Mppppffffttt agggh prrrffftttt ahhhhh!!!!" he tried to spit the slobbering salty globs of cum that had landed in his mouth and coated his tongue" whilst trying to pull in another breath, feeling the chieftain speed up just as he pulled harder on the leather belt, choking off the air even more. "Urrrgghnnghgngh ahhhhhh uhhhhhh nnnnghhhh aaaaahhhhh arrrrgggh!!!" he both gurgled and tried to scream, from the pain of the fuck as the friction grew, stimulating the chieftain's cock to swell even more within him as his spit-lube dried up. "Pussy not wet for me, eh!? Fuuuuucccckkkkk!!!!!!" The chieftain belted out, pounding so hard into Sextus the log shook forwards and the ripped Roman stud strained at his binds, every muscle sinew taut while the fallen stud was asphyxiated, fucked and wanked. "Noooooo annnnnnnnggghhh naaaarrrrrghhhh" he managed to call out, his chest thumping as it beat faster with each rough thrust into his violated ass-cunt. Mastus' own cock was rigidly standing at full-mast, watching as the violated man-pussy spasmed on the chieftain's cock with each savage onslaught, drops of ass-mucus, spittle and pre-cum mixed with a tinge of blood frothing in a mess around the pistoning cock. With three sharp jerks from the former slave's fist Sextus suddenly climaxed, spurting against the log beneath which triggered his ass-pussy to clamp yet again around the chieftain's stabbing cock. The pressure sent the heavy Briton's cock over the edge and with a final lunge forwards and a rapid series of fierce jackrabbiting pulses his heavy loins rammed into the Roman's glutes spasmodically. "Noooooooooo don't cum in me!!!! Ffffuuuuuuckkkkk by the gods, nooooooo!!!!! Annnnnnggghhh!!!" Sextus shouted, his mind a blind panic as he felt the impaling cock climax deep in his bowels, breeding the fallen stud's no longer virgin ass-cunt with a heavy load of barbarian British cum that overflowed from the depths of his guts out of the puffy anal opening, bubbling around the cockshaft and dripping down the stud's muscled hamstrings. "Busting my nut in you, breeding your virgin Roman stud ass!!!" Called out the chieftain. As his vision clouded over and his mind fogged out from the lack of oxygen the last thing Sextus registered was the simultaneous sensation of his own cock spurting hands free for a final time on the ground below while his muscled chest heaved on the rough log and every abdominal clenched with his battered asshole that the chieftain rutted into, breeding his ass-pussy and coating his rectal walls with creamy barbarian British cum.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/gospel-of-the-masters/
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/anonymous-daddy-dominant
Date: Fri, 19 Jul 2024 14:02:39 +0200 From: Steve Brann Subject: Anonymous Daddy Dominant I remember the day I invited an anonymous Daddy Dominant to my house to have sex with me. I was 19 and had posted an ad for a Mature Top Dominant on a Gay dating site. I had many responses, but decided on one who had sent me a photo of his large cock. I admit I am a size queen and if this guy was for real, I would be in Heaven. I left the door to my apartment unlocked and told him to come on in once he arrived as I would be waiting for him. This was very exciting and my heart beat very fast as I waited for this stranger to arrive. What was I thinking? This guy could be a murderer, he could rob me. He would know my address and I would not know his. I prepped by cleaning out several times with my shower enema setup. I covered myself in cologne and put Vaseline on my lips and anus. I put on a t-shirt and shorts. I had incense burning in my apartment and had all the lights off except for the ambient light from the tv playing porn goon videos with a heavy bass beat. It seemed an eternity, but there was a quick knock my door as it opened and a husky male voice called "Hello." A taller than myself, older gentleman peeked in and asked if it's "OK" and I said sure... My heart is pounding! He locks the door and grins as he sees the porn on the tv and hears the goon music. He places a hand on my shoulder and turns me toward the tv and stands behind me and starts making comments about the movie as he continued his firm grip on my shoulder. As we watch the video, he asks if I like the movie? He was probably in his forties with salt and pepper hair. He was very in charge. He turns my face towards him as he leans and kisses me forcefully. I was melting into his arms and admired his clean scent and firm calloused hands. He told me to take my clothes off. It was then that I noticed he had a small backpack that he had set down by the front door. He pulled out two small brown bottles, a roll of electrical tape, several large dildos that looked very scary, a black hood and a red ballgag. He handed me one of little brown bottles and told me to sniff it. I took the top off and smelled a unique odor. He said it would get me relaxed. He took it back from me and said this is how you do it. He put bottle up to his nose and put a finger on the nostril that did not have the bottle, inhaled deeply and then held his breath for as long as he could. It was my turn again. I put the bottle up to my nose and inhaled with finger pressing opposite nostril. I held my breath. Oh my!!! I was not ready for what was coming. It got dark, I felt hot, light headed and my heart was racing. I could hear and feel my heart pounding! My heartbeat was merging with the bass beat on the porn goon video. I was naked and ready. On my knees, worshipping him. Like it was a privilege that he'd even allow me the opportunity of sucking his cock, which was palpitating with prominent veins which were very blue. Taking his cock as deep as I dare, sucking hard, using my tongue... Closing my teeth gently behind the pronounced ridge of his glans, and tugging, as he coaxed me on. Loving the taste of him, the heat of his pulsing cock in my mouth. Grateful to him. I take his his cock against the back of my throat, and it makes me gag uncontrollably. I suck his big beautiful cock as I attempt to take it deeper and deeper, choking and gagging on it. He's holding my head, talking firmly but encouraging, calling me a 'Good Little Cock-Sucker, Good Little Cum-Slut.' There are tears running down my face, I'm sobbing with effort. He takes a firmer hand, he's holding my head and begins fucking his big hard cock into me, taking it deeper at each thrust, fucking as deep into my throat as he can, reducing me to a drooling, slobbering mess of saliva and tears. I took his eight inch cock and stuck my tongue in the large piss slit. I was dizzy with lust. The man stopped me and had me take more hits of the poppers. My head was swimming and I was having a hard time concentrating. Again, I inhaled, only really deep this time, and in seconds my face felt flush, my head was spinning, I could see stars. I felt faint. It seemed like everything was in slow motion. I felt dizzy and out of control, but at the same time was relaxed and more open. With this feeling of lust, I wanted to gobble down his cock and I thrust my mouth down on his cock as he took my head in both hands and pushed down forcefully. I was just a hole for his pleasure at this point. his cock down my throat until his cock punched into my throat. I gagged strongly on it and choked loudly. Not all the way to the root, but the last couple of inches was at least maybe possible now. I knew with this little yellow bottle's help, that maybe I could do this. Maybe I could swallow the whole thing. Inhaling more and more of the yellow bottle that he now just held under my nose, I felt faint, I felt so dizzy and heady. I opened my throat and let him just jam his cock as deep as he wanted. Saliva and spit were everywhere and the obscene sound of my sucking filled the room along the sounds of the goon video. He pulled his cock out and had me lay on the couch. Again he fed me poppers. l felt the warm magic wash over my body from my brain and through the nervous system to the tip of my dripping cock. He told me to stand up and hold my wrists together in front of me. He took the black electrical tape and wrapped it around my wrists. He then placed the hood over my head and fastened the ballgag at the mouth hole. There were very small holes for my nose to breath and he placed the brown bottle against the holes and had me breath in several times. He guided my dizzy, unsteady body to the couch and laid me back. I was overwhelmed as he pushed my knees up to my chest and slowly sank his cock into my ass. My head flooded with hot sparks when he popped his big cock head past my sphincter and my ass was electric as his over-sized manhood tunneled into me. His thighs flexed as he long-dicked me and I rotated my hips up to take all of his cock. My eyes saw fireworks behind the hood and my mouth was stretched open as I bit down hard on the ballgag. I rode the waves of sensation, moaning like a slut, my ass becoming his cunt as he pleasured himself in me. His large cock sawed into me, his dick punching in and out of my ass, my hole gaping when he pulled out, my cock leaking when he pushed back in. I pulled my knees up to my chest to invite him to give me all of his wonderful erection, and he sank his entire length into me, his cock rearranging my guts to make my hole his own, me whimpering like a girl with each deep thrust. I felt him swell inside me and he pinched both my nipples hard as he came, pushing himself deeper into my ass with each volley of cum, banging me senseless. He pulled out and told me to lay there with my taped hands above my head. He wanted to take pictures of me with his phone. Later, after he had left, I received the pictures. I did not recognize myself! I was one of those bondage models now with my hood, ballgag, taped wrists, and gaping asshole leaking cum!
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-35
Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2024 04:43:15 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 35 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 35 Thanksgiving was uneventful and I spent most of the vacation just hanging out, playing games, reading and other stuff. I didn't expect to hear from anyone, but I did text Jason a few times to see how he was doing. On Saturday morning, I heard my parents downstairs talking, and then they called up to me saying they were leaving and reminded me I had promised my cousin I would take him out for batting practice that afternoon. "Ok" I replied as I heard them leave the house and the car start and pull away. I picked up my phone and called my cus' Pete. "Hey, what about going to the batting cages later?" Pete was trying to juggle his busy teenager's calendar to set a time when the doorbell rang. Opening the front door, there stood Master Greg. The first thing I noticed was the black-and-blue mark on his face which was just a bruise on Wednesday night, but now it was a dark purple. Otherwise he looked outstanding in jeans boots and a long-sleeved thermal that clung to his torso. He looked menacing and deadly serious. I froze as I stared at him and my cousin was talking but I didn't hear anything he was saying. "Pete" I stumbled, "I have to reschedule. I'll call you back." And I hung up the phone. Not knowing our exact status these days, I just greeted him with a "Sir" indicating my surprise with my tone and expression. "When will your parents be home?" he questioned me sternly. "Uhh, they are both gonna be gone all day, til tonight. My mom was........." He pushed me hard into the house, cutting off my response, and followed me in shutting the door behind him. He continued to push me until my back was up against the wall in the entryway, then putting his forearm under my chin and at my throat he choked me enough to show he was serious and to make it hard for me to breathe while he bore into me with his eyes. "So have you been enjoying your vacation faggot......... and I don't mean Thanksgiving" he asked sarcastically. I was still too confused to know what to say, but my eyes must have been saying a lot, submitting to him again, melting under the heat of his attack. "So here's how it goes cunt, from now on I am your only Master. The ONE, the ONLY!" he emphasized. You have no other Masters, not Tack, not Laith, not anyone. Do you understand that?" he spat. I was still nervous, but i shook my head acknowledging his orders and said "Yes Sir." "What did you say faggot?" he questioned immediately. `Yes Master I mean. I'm sorry Master, I meant Master" I babbled. I got half of a sinister smirk from him. "You don't talk to another guy, you don't touch another guy, you don't do a FUCKIN' THING without my permission faggot. Do you understand me?" he explained angrily. "If i want to pimp you I'll tell you, but you don't do anything with out my permission from now on! You get that?" he demanded. "Yes Master Greg. I understand Master" I replied shaking my head. "And, you tell me everything! DO YOU UNDERSTAND FAGGOT?" he asked speaking very slowly. "Yes Master, everything" I replied obediently. Then slowing things down and easing up on his pressure and demeanor, this time more in an asking tone he questioned, but still seriously, "Can you live with that boy?" My heart beginning to open to him, I simply shook my head vigorously indicating yes, not wanting to have my voice crack if i spoke. "You are MY property" he reemphasized. I just smiled, shaking my head yes; not having words that could add anything to this special moment, i just enjoyed the warmth I felt being in his orbit once again. "Be at my house in an hour, scrubbed and ready for me bitch, I'm gonna erase all signs of everyone else on you today." he ordered and then he was gone.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-61
Date: Thu, 2 May 2024 02:07:54 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 61 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 61 Laith and Tack talked regularly during the first few weeks of the new school year, but Tack wanted to be more chill about his emotions than Laith, so Laith initiated most of the conversations, texts and emails. To be fair, Laith had a lot more news to share starting college and living in a completely new world. After a few weeks into the new school year, Tack contacted Greg to see what he'd decided to do this year. It was no surprise that he put no effort into college in the last six months, causing him to be dropped from colleges he'd already been accepted to because he didn't even complete the necessary paperwork. He'd chosen to enroll at a community college in Roxbury which was close to downtown, but he was trying to lay very low and avoid seeing anyone from his former life. Tack told Greg to keep in touch and let him know if he needed anything. It wasn't long before Greg was sending Tack `bitch pics' of his pussy and him on his knees with his tongue hanging out begging Tack to use him again. Before Tack decided what to do, he wanted to get Laith's opinion. Tack knew he didn't need consent to have Greg, but he also was not going to hide anything from Laith and then concern himself about keeping secrets. Laith cared about Greg and wanted better things for him, but realized that he'd been too caught up in his relationship with Tack to think about Greg. "Tack, do you think you could bring him back to life and get him re-engaged with school and having a future? You know, get him out of being a zombie." Tack explained, "If i was gonna make him mine and be around him all of the time, I know i could, but I'm not interested in that with Greg, so i don't know." Laith was so thankful that Tack didn't seem to be interested in Greg in that way. Laith found it easy to become jealous when it came to Tack, and he sighed quietly, "thank god." Tack reminded Laith, "Boy, you know you have to get used to me fucking who i want whenever i want." Laith answered correctly, "Yes Sir. I understand. I just need a little experience working it out Sir." Tack replied frankly, "I'll always be honest with you boy." Laith tried to change subjects a bit suggesting, "I'm sure you can use some of Greg's sexual attention on the regular too. That'll be good for your mood." Tack responded reflectively, "Yep, i can use some of that." He said pawing his ripped and muscled body while he laid on his couch. "And how about you, what do you fantasize of most when you're trying to get your dick off thinking about me?" Laith laughed quietly as he recalled, "maybe two or three things sort of repeat in my head....... First, when you took my ass after that slow excruciating day of wearing me down, and when you finally fucked me; you had Jason, your slave rape Greg, my slave right next to me. That really broke me. That showed me your power and what i was dealing with, and from that time it made me want to submit to you as my Master." "Fukk yeah" purred Tack. "And what else?" he asked. Continuing, Laith suggested a little more shyly, "When you were fucking me way too hard that one time, you said you had `set your sights on me and you knew you'd have me' and then you said I was `the hottest senior in school and i was your property, your bitch, and whore'. That one makes me cum a lot." "What else slut?" Tack asked curiously. "Well, maybe just one more", Laith postulated. "Spill it fag", Tack demanded. "The video of what you and Ash did to Greg in the locker room. That video of you using Greg like a horse as you had him in the standing headlock, then destroying him while he laid face down on the bench bellowing as you ascended to God status over him, well that consistently blows me away when i watch it. That's why i get jealous too. I want to be the slave to your God." "Fuck faggot, I need to blow my load now thinking of you being my bitch-horse while i ride you like the cum slut you are. Tell me how much you want me now, while i jack off here, and know that soon I'll be raping Greg again and sending you pictures of it to make you weaker than you already are." Laith started to whimper and confess how hungry he was for his master and how much he wanted and needed Tack until Tack jacked off and blew his load of precious cum all over his body. `Pig, be over here at 9' was all Tack's text to Greg said, and exactly on time Greg knocked on Master Tack's basement door. Making Greg crawl from the door on his hands and knees, Tack wanted to begin to raise Greg from zombie to submissive human, hoping that he'd be able to function in self-protective and beneficial ways from then on. This first night, Tack ran Greg through all of the standard worship and service practices before fucking his mouth and cunt making Greg beg and scream and finally moan his appreciation for Master Tack. Tack had to admit that he liked having a boy here to worship him and satisfy his needs, and it especially felt good to have someone sleeping next to him that was at his beck and call. Master Tack worked on Greg for months, pulling him out of the dark shell he had buried himself in. He had even kissed Greg a few times openly on the lips to give Greg a sense of desirability and worth again. Greg was not as conditioned or strong as he had been before his downward spiral into sub-slavery, but he was still one hot young stud. Tack wrestled with Greg a few times also to give him a greater sense of confidence in himself and his strength. By Christmas, with Laith returning, Tack, Laith and Greg all spent some time together over the holidays, trying to put the final touches on Greg's rebound. Just before Laith had to head back to school after Christmas vacation, Greg surprised both Tack and Laith by telling them that he needed to confront and take on Jason for what had happened between them. He felt that he could never consider himself a man again, or have the confidence he would need to get back on top without facing this demon in his life. Seeing his boy on the road to recovery, building his confidence back and hopeful again, Tack asked Greg, "Are you sure this is what you want? What are you thinking of doing?" Greg explained to his friends, "I need to do this. No matter what happens i have to see myself in a different way than before. I'm gonna go to his room on campus next week and confront him." Nodding his head curiously, Tack asked "And what are you going to do there?" Excitedly, Greg explained "I think i'm just gonna kick his ass. Maybe more. We'll see." Laith suggested, "You might not want to get into a fight on campus or in the dorms. Security can make it a problem." Greg smirked, "That definitely won't be a problem." Before Greg left them, Tack advised, "Greg, I think this isn't the best way to handle the problem. Lets set something up in a safe environment where we can maintain control. If this goes to hell, I'm not getting in the middle of it. I'm not fixing this for ya man." Greg just chuckled, "No problem man, I know exactly what I'm doing."
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave/sweet-robbie-becomes-family-slave-2
Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2024 20:15:44 -0700 From: gayD <[email protected]> Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 2 Hi guy, Now, some of you have asked to see a photo of Robbie in his submissiveness glory. You got it. I just posted one of him in my GayTies.com profile album. Log-in to this website (or join if you are not a member yet- it's free) then click on "Find Member" and type in my name, "Darkforce," then click on my photo albums. He's there, in a most usually pose. It's such a simple image, but it says so much, perfectly. But it is NOT the type of photo you are expecting. Let me know what you think. This story has lots of twists and turns, all of which will give you guys drippy boners. Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave Part 2 of 6 "You will now go to the shower and bathe. I shall be there in eight minutes. Do not use any hot water. That's not to be wasted on you. Now go." Then he told Jamar to start on his housework. Robbie made for the door but stopped in his tracks when Matt spoke again. "I expect to see you in the same state of arousal when I get up there, do you understand?" He shouted, "Yes, sir," he replied. When Matt entered the bathroom, he saw that the boy had run the shower at half-power. At least he was thinking on his feet. Looking at Robbie's backside, he could also see that his right arm was moving in a regular pumping motion, his hand working to keep his cock erect as the naked slender body shook under the constant flow of cold water. Had it been winter, the water would have been icy cold. Robbie jumped when Matt's voice sounded, telling him to turn the water off and turn around. In desperation, he continued to pull at his cock. When ordered to let it go, it stuck out from his groin. It looked red and sore to Matt, which pleased him. The little hand towel Matt had given him soon became soaked as he tried to dry himself. As a further humiliation, he handed Robbie a cloth-backed scrubber about three inches wide and two feet long, with a grab handle on each end. Typically, one would soap this up, loop it over the back, and pull in alternation directions to scrub clean what could not be reached with one's hands. It is made of a very coarse, rough material, and it certainly felt good over the back. Matt gave him this without soap and told him to pass the dry back scrubber between his legs and draw it hard and firmly back and forth over his balls and erect cock. It must have felt like a kitchen scouring pad and brought him a lot of pain. He was only allowed to stop when tears ran from his eyes. "OK, now listen up." Matt told him more sternly, "You now have rules. There will be many rules. First rule: At any time you are told to "WAIT," immediately strip naked, beat yourself to a full erection, spread your feet three feet apart, thrust your hips forward to display your dick and grasp your hands behind you just above your buttocks. Remain like that until you are told otherwise." Then Matt added, "Never try to cover up your private parts when naked. This is a punishable offense. It should be obvious to you, but I wanted to say that officially." The instructions were confirmed with the usual "Yes, sir." "Now go to your room and "WAIT," Matt ordered. The boy was gone. Matt allowed two minutes before entering the room. Matt's cock hardened when he saw Robbie beating himself. He had visualized it many times when he had seen him in his baggy, running shorts and T-shirt, wishing he was not so shy and would expose more of his body to the world. But, for years, Matt could only imagine what Robbie's hunky body was developing into. He had to wait for the boy to declare his desires to be controlled before what he had imagined could become a reality. Just as the WAIT command required, Robbie stood there with his feet awkwardly three feet apart, with the required boner, thrusting his hips forward to openly display it while grasping his hands behind him just above his buttocks. Matt was very pleased but did not want to show it - not yet. "Now for a second command. When anyone, and I do mean anyone, tells you "AT EASE," it is a command for you to drop to your knees, with knees apart, hands on your thighs, and display your boner as if to offer it to anyone present. Then, look forward and do not move until told otherwise. Let's try that one now." Robbie assumed the position as instructed. Matt stood just behind and to the boy's side so that he could not see the look of pleasure on his father's face. He wanted to take the stiff cock and continue to bring him to climax, but he knew he could not, not at this early point. He watched as a small drop of precum oozed from the slit at its tip. He then looked at the shaft, at the tender red flesh below the shaft, still sore from the harsh towel scrubbing he had made Robbie inflict upon himself. Matt told him he would go with Rachel to Hardington to buy new clothes. Matt found Robbie's black training shoes, his regular baggy shorts, and a plain T-shirt and placed them on the bed, which was now a stripped-down mattress on a bed frame. Matt thought, "My god, doesn't this boy have anything sexier? Colorful? More revealing?" He instructed Robbie to dress only in the items on the bed, no socks or underwear and told him to be in the kitchen in ten minutes. Matt and Rachel waited for Robbie to appear as they sat drinking coffee. Robbie arrived, dressed exactly as he had been told to dress. His blond hair, styled to hang halfway to his shoulders, now dry and brushed, framed his face nicely. Rachel said, "I think we will have to pay a visit to the barber in Hardington and have your hair cut short or shaved off." Robbie's face fell. He had spent hours in the past year getting his hairstyle right. He did not want to have it removed. His stomach kind of knotted up at the thought. She went on. "Yes, and we must pick out a swimming outfit, underwear, and something to wear to our group. In fact," she said, "a completely new wardrobe. And look, while we are gone, Matt will rearrange your bedroom for you to make it appropriate for your new lifestyle." It was not a warm day, just an average temperature, but she made Robbie remove his tee shirt before they got into the car. The whole mood had changed as Rachel played a cassette of sultry music. No conversation took place as they drove to Hardington. Robbie felt strange as he sat silently next to his mom. Or was it his former mom and current mistress? As they got on the highway to Hardington, Robbie felt uncomfortable when he thought about passers-by seeing his naked upper torso. As they drove by and noticed him, younger female drivers smiled. Eventually, they entered Hardington. Rachel drove slowly through the traffic in the busy little town, and Robbie noticed how people would look, even stare at him, because in his nakedness, his brawny chest and well-toned arm could be seen. He wished Matt had let him wear underwear, especially since these shorts were so baggy and loose-fitting. The air was cooler when they arrived at the parking structure. The concrete, multiple-story parking levels were shaded and cold. The cold air caused Robbie's nipples to stand erect and his body to break out in goose pimples. He gripped the T-shirt in his right hand, and holding it out to Rachel was his way of asking her to let him put it on. She could see that his eyes were asking for permission. She locked the car and ordered Robbie to her side. Taking hold of his baggy shorts, which she had always hated, she quickly snapped off the only button that held his shorts up. Now, they were only held together by the closed zipper. Robbie swallowed hard but just stayed still. Then Rachel tugged his shorts down firmly to rest on his hip bones and to expose the trail of hair that ran from his navel to his dick. Normally, his underwear would cover his midsection, but he was not allowed to wear any. He prayed that his zipper would at least prevent his pants from falling. The sun was welcome on his chilled body as they entered the main downtown street of shops. He could feel the eyes of girls, women, and men staring at him as they passed. Rachel was not fazed at all by anything. In fact, the more attention they got, the more she seemed to like it. She knew that, without underwear, he showed more of his skin around his slim waist. She also knew that without underwear, his sizable cock would swing freely as he walked, causing the tender head to rub against the heavy, rough material. She wanted him to feel erotic as well as embarrassed. It was just after 10:00 AM when they arrived at the barbershop. She was greeted on entering by one of the two barbers. He addressed her as Miss Rachel. He was of average height, around thirty, very slim, and had pinkish hair and piercings on his face; he seemed gay. He gave Robbie a glowing smile, his eyes fixed on the half-naked beauty before him. The barber introduced himself, and Rachel said, "José, this is my dear sweet Robbie. We need to do something about his hair." Without her asking, José gave Rachel a portfolio of pictures showing many different styles of men's hair. Then, the barber invited Rachel and Robbie to the private salon seating area, assuring Rachel that he would soon be finished with his current customer. As they were waiting, Rachel finished looking through all the photos. She then handed the portfolio to Robbie to check them out for himself. Robbie was surprised that he would get to pick out his hairstyle and feasted his eyes on a couple that he thought would look good on him. He felt a sense of relief that he was not going to leave here looking like a weirdo or freak. After all, his hair was important to him and was a major part of his look. He picked out two styles and was debating over which he would choose. These were not too different from what he now had; both were on the long side and in current fashion. In ten minutes, José entered the private waiting area to escort Rachel and Robbie to the empty barber chair. Robbie carried the book open at the page of the cut he had picked out. For the first time today, Robbie was smiling with enthusiasm. He thought that maybe he was being too judgmental of his mother. "Up here, Robbie," José said cheerfully, patting the blond leather chair seat. And Robbie stepped up to it, still bare-chested. Somewhere along the way, he had misplaced his white T-shirt but could not figure out how it had gone missing. He wanted it to cover up when they left. José looked at Rachel and asked her if she had chosen a style. Robbie held up the book and pointed to the one he wanted. José held up the wrap-around cape to cover Robbie's body from falling hair cropping. Rachel shook her head, meaning there was no need to cover his body, so José replaced the cape on the hook behind him and smiled. Being gay, he would enjoy looking at Robbie's body as he styled his hair. Robbie sat there, waiting to be covered, and was surprised when he realized he would not be. So, he just sat there holding the book open at the page showing his desired style. "OK. Now, which style?" José asked as he looked at Rachel. Robbie thought he was talking to him, so, again, he pointed at the photo of a haircut the students in his school would envy. At least he felt relieved he would come out of there looking sharp. Rachel responded, "Oh, just a buzz cut for today." Robbie was shocked! He sat there horrified as his finger was still stuck on his desired hairdo. José gently took the book, closed it, and returned it to the shelf. Robbie knew he was going to look like a freak, a nearly bald one. He mouthed the word "please." But Rachel did not respond to that. Instead, she said, "Sweetie, just keep your eyes closed and your arms glued to the armrest. Don't move until I tell you too, OK, dear? If I hear you have not been fully compliant with José, I will put you over my knee, right here, and spank your cute little butt in front of all these nice people." Robbie knew she meant it. Robbie closed his eyes and placed his forearms on the chair armrests. José asked if she wanted the tiny, almost invisible hairs on his ears and nose trimmed. "That's fine; just do your usual good job for my dear sweet Robbie. I'll be next door getting some coffee." Robbie kept his eyes closed and sat there, hearing the buzz of the clippers and feeling chunks of his precious hair fall all over his naked shoulders, chest, belly, and arms as José worked to get rid of the boy's mop of blond hair. José went over and over his beautifully shaped head. Then Robbie felt the clippers lightly rubbing his outer ear. The hairs there were so fine that most people would not notice them. Still, he was a barber, a specialist in body hair. Then Robbie felt it over the other ear. It tickled a bit. José, using his thumb, pushed the tip of Robbie's nose upward, making a funny pig-nose image. A couple of his waiting customers quietly giggled at the animal face. José used a much smaller nose-hair removal gadget there. Finally, he was done, and Robbie felt the wispy, soft hairbrush swishing away the hair on his face, bare shoulders, and chest. He started to release his tight finger grip on the arms of the chair, but José stopped him, so he remained in position and closed his eyes again. José concentrated on flicking the brush over Robbie's nipples, lingering there, and smiling as he knew the erotic feeling his customer was receiving through his now erect nipples. Then he whisked the brush over the rest of his upper body and arms. José stated, more to himself, "These hairs are sticking to your chest," and returned the brush to Robbie's nipples to tease him more. José smiled as he noticed that Robbie's waist button was missing from the front of his shorts. Shorts that Rachel had previously tugged down obscenely low. José laughed to himself at the thought that only the closed metal zipper was holding his shorts up. With Robbie's eyes kept closed, as he had been ordered, he did not realize that José was moving the zipper down fully with one hand because he disguised the maneuver by flicking the brush over his belly and pants-covered groin with the other hand at the same time. Now Robbie was shirtless and sitting there quietly, unaware of any details, including his zipper opening. Robbie was showing his pubic hair as well as the top portion of his dick. José knelt in front of him and lightly brushed away the clippings on his bare legs from the edge of his baggy shorts to his tennis shoes. Robbie was happy; it seemed that he was all done. But then ... he heard the buzz of the clippers again. This time, they were tickling his nipples. Robbie opened his mouth to say something, but José mumbled something about, "Relax, you have unsightly hairs all over you, don't you?" José continued to use the vibrating clippers all around Robbie's sensitive and hard nipples. He then gently grabbed one nipple and pulled it out as he pretended to shave around it. Actually, he was just touching and lightly rubbing the backside of the clippers against Robbie's skin, just to give him the erotic vibrating, tickling sensation caused by the electric clippers. There were just about a half dozen other customers in the shop. None of them were bothered by the bare-chested boy. They had seen subs before. Hardington was known for kinky public scenes. With Robbie having a nearly shaved head, they all figured he was the newest sub in town. Gentle people would sit back and enjoy the creative "show" these barbers would put on. José was a master at erotically teasing cute boys like Robbie. He could be much bolder in this case because Robbie was not allowed to open his eyes. José was staring at the wide-open crotch of Robbie's shorts. The huge dick tucked in there was trying to expand. Robbie kept his eyes closed and his arms on the armrest, but he sensed he was getting aroused by the accidental tickling on his nipple. He tried wriggling his butt and scooting himself further back in the seat of the chair. Unbeknownst to him, that caused his loose, opened shorts not to scoot back WITH his butt, and, unintentionally, he was succeeding in scooting himself further out of his shorts. He did not appear to notice what was happening to his shorts because his nipples were being tickled so much, sending waves of erotic sensations through his body. He hoped José did not notice any bulge in his shorts. He continued to assume he was fully covered and was content his shorts were so baggy that an erection would not be noticed. He also figured José would say something if that was not the case. But the case was this: Robbie's shorts had slid further down, and almost his entire dick was showing. Only the tip was bent down and tucked into the bottom "V" of the opened zipper. José did not have Miss Rachel's permission to touch the boy's dick, so he avoided doing that, though he thought she would not have minded. But he loved looking at the growing bulge and wanted to see more. He acted quickly to prevent Robbie from inadvertently opening his eyes. Another distraction was needed. Quickly, he leaned the chair backward, saying, "Oops, I almost forgot; Miss Rachel wanted me to give you a face treatment, too." Robbie was trying to understand what that meant when José grabbed a medium-sized wet, hot towel out of the towel warmer and, without a pause, gently wrapped it fully around Robbie's upwardly pointing face. "Don't worry if it seems too hot at first. It will soon feel only very warm. Just stay still while I get your face ready to be treated." The hot towel surprised Robbie, and he immediately wriggled his hips again and fidgeted in the chair. Since he could not move his hands off the armrest, it was the only way he could react. He did release an initial "Ow!" But soon, I found the towel very comforting. "Just relax, Robbie." That little bit of fidgeting caused the shorts to lower a bit more, and his stiff dick popped free through the open zipper. José picked up the clippers and, this time, caused them to vibrate around the other nipple. He heard another moan and saw Robbie's body shiver. He was sure with all the distracting stimulations happening to him, the boy had no idea his dick was rigid, fully out of his shorts, and now pointing to the ceiling. Now, a couple of customers took photos with their cell phones. With Robbie's face buried in a towel, he would never know. Then José held the vibrating clippers so the back barely touched the tip of the nipple. He heard a moan. Then he lifted it off a tiny bit, waited, and then barely touched the tip again. He heard another throaty moan from under the towel. He lifted the clippers again. It was so slight, and Robbie must have sensed it was just out of his reach. He inadvertently lifted his chest to make contact with that most pleasant, erotic tingle. He was not doing it consciously. But his body did it, and he felt that wonderful vibrating. Then José lifted the electric clippers a bit higher, and this time, Robbie used his hands to push down on the arms of the chair to lift his chest further. In doing this, his butt was now off the chair seat by about an inch. The space under his ass allowed his unzipped and very loose shorts to slide down to his ankles. There were more photo flashes and a lot of smiles and whispering among the other customers. Robbie was oblivious to it all. He was in the barber chair, totally naked down to his shorts, now bunched around his tennis shoes. Of course, he still had the warm towel over his face. José, with a satisfied "mission accomplished," murmured, "Ahhhhhh," and gently put pressure on his chest to have him settle comfortably back in the chair. Robbie's dick was sticking up like a steel flagpole. José wanted to do his best to entertain his customers, so he went to another level. "OK, Robbie, relax now. I will apply this moisturizer to where I trimmed your chest hair." Of course, he did not actually trim his chest hair; he just teased the hell out of his nipples. And then Robbie felt warm hands gently rubbing his chest all over. It was a massage-like firm touch at first but gradually became a very light touch. He rubbed the silky-smooth lotion all over his upper torso, but more and more concentrated around and on Robbie's nipples. His face was still covered with a moist towel. José noticed, as he expected to, that each time he "accidentally" flicked the tips of his fingernails over one of Robbie's now hard nipples, Robbie's dick would give an up-and-down nod. Then, a moan would escape from under the towel. "Sorry if this stings, but I must rub this anti-inflammatory cream on you. I see irritation around your nipples, and the nipples themselves look a little puffy. It will just take a minute to rub this in completely, so relax." The lotion did not sting. It was just a regular, greasy hand cream. José was just making some technical justification for playing with his muscular chest. Again, José's fingertips teased and tickled Robbie's nipples, lightly scratching over the nubs. His dick twitched up, paused, and twisted down. José pinched both nipples at the same time, rather firmly. Again, Robbie's dick twitched up, paused, and twisted down. José was enjoying himself, as were his customers when Rachel walked in. She looked at Robbie reclining in the barber chair, naked, with a bobbing boner, and stood to watch José as he teased Robbie's nipples, making him moan. One might assume a stern mistress like Rachel would have been upset, walking in on this obscene and public spectacle involving her "son." But she took a seat and smiled broadly as she told José, "I see you are putting on the medication cream. I hope my dear, sweet Robbie has cooperated fully." She asked and was pleased when Jose nodded yes. Rachel watched José erotically massaging her son. It was not the first time she had seen him do that to other subs. She was enjoying it very much. Then she told José, "We need to go and do some shopping now." José nodded, wiped the excess cream off Robbie's chest, and removed the towel from his face. The boy kept his eyes closed. He was boned up and yet relaxed and sleepy. Then Rachel said to him with a big smile, "Hi, my dear, sweet Robbie. You are all done. You can open your eyes now but still do not move, OK sweetie?" He finally opened his eyes and looked at Rachel, and about a dozen customers gathered around looking at him. Then he looked down at his naked body. Then he freaked out that he had a huge boner. The chair was still reclined, so the jutting dick stood upward, more indecently. He forgot the rule of not speaking, "MOM, I AM SO SORRY! I AM SO EMBARRASSED. I DON'T KNOW WHAT OR WHY ... OH MOM, PLEASE, LET'S GET OUT OF HERE! OH GOD, PLEASE ..." Robbie cried out loudly. "Oh, of course, dear." Rachel proudly smiled, as any Mistress would seeing her son publicly humiliated. "But these nice people have asked to take a photo with you. Aren't you so precious, darling? Is that OK with you, dear?" He knew Rachel was putting on a pretentious, sweet manner for these people. And he knew better than to tell his mistress no. He wept with embarrassment as he nodded his head. Of course, the customers did not make such a request, but now that they heard her offer, they all wanted to. Robbie pleaded, still reclined in the chair, "Yes, oh please, may I pose for you?" One by one, each came up and stood beside Robbie and smiled. Then FLASH. One put her arm on his shoulder, one pinched his nipple. FLASH. Another, a middle-aged guy, smiled and touched the tip of his erect dick. FLASH. "OK, sweetie, get up and pull up your shorts. You are such a cock-tease, aren't you, my dear sweet Robbie?" She pinched his cheek and smiled sweetly. Robbie's face was red with shame. He quickly pulled up his pants and the zipper, which barely hugged his waist. "Adjust them as I showed you, dear," she reminded him. And Robbie tugged them down carefully so the waistband rested on his hip bones. There was no tab to pay since Rachel had allowed the shop to "borrow" her boy to entertain. As they were about to leave, a teen approached Robbie and asked, "Hey dude, where did you get those neat tennis shoes? I've got to get me some of those." They were the latest fashion, and very expensive, like $300.00. Robbie had good taste. But before he could reply with the name of the store where he had bought them, Rachel jumped in, "Oh, do you like those? My dear, sweet Robbie would like you to have them. They don't fit him properly anyway." She looked at Robbie with a very "hard" stiff smile, and he knew what he had to do. Still standing, he bent down and untied and slipped them off his feet. He hesitantly handed them over to the kid. Robbie was now barefooted since he was not allowed to wear socks when he left the house this morning. No footwear, no shirt, no underwear, not even a head of hair. Robbie was slowly being stripped naked and molded into accepting his new sub-behavior. He was down to only his shorts, which did not even have a securing fastener. Sporting his "submissive" new buzz cut, Robbie followed behind Rachel as they left the barber. They walked around downtown for a while. Robbie thought Rachel was having difficulty finding a particular store. Still, she just wanted to publicly parade her boy, wearing only his hanging shorts. Without asking him, they stopped at a public restroom. She told him to use it. "OK, Mom." "What the hell did you call me?! Boy?! Do you want me to pull your shorts down right here, pull you over my knees, and spank your ass until you cry for me to stop?! Then I will leave you here!" She was feigning being upset. "Oh, I am so sorry Miss. I disrespected you." Robbie immediately became frightened and felt so bad at how he stupidly addressed his mistress. "Oh, please forgive me, Mistress Rachel. I won't ever do that again. Please, I am so ashamed. I was so fucking rude to you." And Robbie broke down. "May I please use the bathroom, Mistress Rachel? I mean, if you think I should. Please, Miss?" She accepted his profuse apologies, sternly warned him against repeating such behavior, and allowed him to use the restroom. He was so thankful that she allowed it. Then, they entered the sportswear clothing store. Rachel led the way to the rear of the shop, where the male teen section was. Rachel began sliding the hangers of Speedo swimsuits along the rail as she looked at the different designs. Two more teen boys were in the area, one with his parents, the other with his mom. The parents were clasping a variety of new school clothes they had selected for purchase. A middle-aged male clerk inquired of Rachel if she needed any help. "Yes," She said. "I would like a pair of pale blue Speedos for my dear sweet Robbie." The clerk opened a long counter drawer and produced several packets of the required item, which he placed on the counter. He took several sizes from their packets. Rachel was not interested in cost, the practical use of the item, or even the right color. Only the size at that moment in time was her main interest. She selected a pair. "Nick, could he try them on?" The clerk told her yes. "I think he should be remeasured to be sure of his size." "Certainly, but let me finish with this other customer..." Rachel saw a somewhat unkept, T-shirted man mopping a back area. He was obviously the janitor. "Nick, you mind if that gentleman measures his up," pointing to the janitor. "But he's the... Well... of course, Mis Rachael, of course." Nick found it odd to have a janitor do her son's body measurements, but he knew Rachael had her own ideas. Nick went to speak to the janitor, and he nodded to her from a distance. Turning to Robbie, Rachael said, "OK, sweetie, go into the dressing room to get measures. The janitor is going to measure you again." "Janitor? But..." "Ye, janitor. Now, go in there and... WAIT. She stared at Robbie sternly so he would remember and obey this command. Robbie freaked out when he realized what the command meant. As his dad told him, "At any time you are told to "WAIT," immediately strip naked, beat yourself to a full erection, spread your feet three feet apart, thrust your hips forward to display your dick, and grasp your hands behind you just above your buttocks." Robbie hesitantly went to the small change cubicle, took off the bikinis, beat his dick, and stood as previously ordered. The janitor entered the cubicle and was pleasantly surprised to see Robbie naked. All boned up, standing tall, hip thrust forward. He wanted to grope the boy but resisted. All Robbie could think of was that his uncouth, T-shirted broom-pusher would control him! "Ah, you're Robbie, right? Please stand normal. I need to measure you. It seems it takes a custodian to measure you correctly. So, let's get right to it." <br> "Yes, sir." The janitor was unaccustomed to being called `Sir' but loved it. The black guy fumbled with the measuring tape and encircled every part of Robbie's body in all directions, including his dick and balls, as he `accidentally' fondled the boned-up boy. This was some treat for the janitor and a horrific humiliation to Robbie, who even began to dribble precum. After an eternity, they emerged with Robbie wearing the bikini. Nick came back over to continue to assist. "Ok, Nick. Those bikinis still fit him even though he is hard and stiff. That means they are too big." Rachael reflected, "No, no, these won't do. I don't care what the measurements show." -- The janitor never measured anyone! -- "You see, the waist would come up to his belly button. I want the low rise." The clerk then pulled out a low-rise pair. Rachel held it up, "No, not like this either. It's a low rise, but it would still be too high. I want it lower so all his pubic hair will show." The clerk again sorted through the various skimpy Speedos and bikinis styles, came up with super skimpy ones cut much lower, and handed them to Rachel. "Okay, Robbie, dear, try these on and come out here to show us how they look." Robbie took the pair and went into the changing room and changed into the bikini he was just given "Oh, my god." He said to himself. "These are obscene. I can't wear these, and I can't come out there!" But Rachel called him to hurry up, and he finally came out to a small gathering of customers staring at him. It was a very low cut. There were only about two inches of material around his waist at the hip. And you could see his lower belly and almost all his pubic hair. Luckily it was cut high enough in the back to fully cover his ass cheeks. "Walk around, Robbie. Let us take a look." Robbie was feeling more and more like a piece of meat. And what was all this, "Let US take a look?" "NO, no, these are not right either. Sorry, I just don't want my dear sweet Robbie to look more like a cute little whore, just as he told me he did." Robbie was getting hard with all the humiliation and the stares from a dozen customers, all pretending not to be paying attention. None of them would leave the area in front of the dressing room. "Look for a pair no wider than one inch at the hip, please." The clerk opened a different drawer marked "string bikinis," found one in there, and offered it to Rachel. "Well, let's see how this one fits, shall we?" The clerk got called away to assist another customer upfront. So, Rachel thought she had a free hand to embarrass Robbie further. "Robbie, we want to see you in these." Robbie put out his hand to take them, but Rachel told him he couldn't take both pairs into the dressing room. "Take those off first, dear," she said, pretending to be kind. Robbie just stood there, aghast. He was not crying, but his eyes were seeping a tear or two. Rachel snapped her fingers, and he pulled the low-cut Speedo down and held them up to cover his rigid dick. Again, Rachel snapped her fingers, and he handed them over, expecting to get the other ones immediately. He was standing there stark naked; he had left the house without being allowed to even wear briefs. A few people flashed a camera phone photo. Rachel pretended to be deciding the difference between the two styles. "Okay, Robbie, put these on so we can check them out." He quickly grabbed them and made a beeline for the changing room, about fifteen feet away. The clerk had to step away to deal with a cash register problem. Robbie tried them on and saw that the fit was awful. His dick could barely fit in the pouch. He knew he had no choice, so he reluctantly came out and showed how they fit. His dick and balls were all smashed together. "Well, sweetie, how do you think they fit?" Rachel asked. Finally, he was actually asked for his input. "I ... I ... I don't ... don't think ..." Robbie was trying to say no to these bikinis. "Oh, dear. I see the problem." She had him turn around and pulled back the back panel covering his butt to check the size. It said size 32. That was his size. "Let me check the drawer myself." She opened the drawer that said bikinis and found one marked size 28. She mumbled the size to herself, not wanting Robbie to hear her. "Okay, these should fit better. Let me have the others back." And immediately Robbie stripped naked once again, right in the store in front of everyone. And again, as he stood there with a boned-up dick, Rachel pretended to be examining the color of the material she had just chosen. She was not sure all of Robbie would fit into it, but HER fun, would be in his awkward public attempt to do so. To be continued... What a fucking embarrassing scene in a department store. And... this is just the beginning. Believe me, you have NEVER read a porn story like this.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-53
Date: Fri, 19 Apr 2024 00:05:03 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 53 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 53 Bax grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged my face from his feet where I was contently licking between his toes up to his armpit, where sweat was collecting on this unusually warm day in May. I was just as happy to eat his sweaty pit as i was to eat his sweaty feet. Just being this close to him, hearing his moans of satisfaction and getting his attention made everything feel right. I was startled by a knock on the door. Un-phased by the interruption or what we were doing, Bax announced "Enter" to whomever was at the door of his dorm room. Jason strolled in, taking in the scene around him in his typical way. "So, how's he doing since your field trip to Long Island" Jason asked smirking. "No complaints" my master responded dryly and he maneuvered my face across his muscled chest and dragged it to his other pit, showing off his control. "You ever get hungry for more variety?" Jason asked, suggesting i was an inferior mis-match for a Master such as mine. "I get a lot of variety", Bax informed Jason. "I'm an old fashioned guy. When i fuck other girls and guys, my bitch here keeps her mouth shut and does chores, waiting for me to be ready to use her again." Chuckling as Bax boasted, Jason asked in a surprisingly humble way, "I just came by to see if you were in need of some variety." I was surprised, if not shocked, that Jason was scouting out talent, and wondered if Tack had any idea what he was up to. Bax asked, "What are you looking for slut?" Laughing a little more earnestly now, Jason confessed, "I'm around this weekend since Tack is tied up and he gave me some leeway to play." My immediate reaction was jealousy, as i heard the pretty boy making a play for my Master's attention. "I don't see why not. Saturday night works for me." "And your whore?", Jason asked Bax. "I didn't know you were looking for a three-way", Bax inquired. "I wouldn't want to exclude your pig here given how well he did up in Marblehead", Jason taunted in reference to him fucking me when we were all together last. I found it so easy to despise Jason. All of his physical beauty seemed invisible once i was able to see how obviously artificial his feelings and intentions were towards everything around him. "Let's use my room", Jason offered. "No interruptions there." Bax agreed, adding "9 O'clock". Jason smiled and said, "See you both on Saturday night at 9", then exited. I had an uneasy feeling about Jason that wouldn't go away. I tried calling Master Greg to find out why Jason was suddenly into Master Bax. I got no answer, but i wasn't really surprised given that the last few times I'd seen Greg he was practically a robot after his ownership seemed to transfer from Laith to Tack. On Saturday before we all met at Jason's room, I asked Bax what he thought Jason was up to. He didn't give it much thought, saying "I don't really care. Just a mouth and cunt to use for a little while." I met Bax and Jason at Jason's dorm room, and when I arrived they'd already been hanging out and talking. Nonchalantly I inquired, "I miss anything?" Bax just laughed and commented, "We have some fun planned, no worries boy." Jason was already in his bright blue jock, with the dark chain and matched ear stud in place. He wore a loose t-shirt and ankle socks, which he peeled off and tossed into the corner, showing off his very well-maintained frame and suggesting things were getting started. Jason moved to Bax and began to tug at his shirt, helping to undress him. After assisting him out of everything but his tight boxer briefs, he moved to his wall cabinet and pulled out a small bag which he tossed to Bax. Opening it, Bax found a new black jock inside, and grinned happily. Yeah, the attention was nice, and the jock was sexy as he pulled it onto his flawless body, but couldn't Bax see how transparent Jason was. I mean he couldn't go after Bax with Tack being his master, but something was going on. I decided the next day I'd call either Laith or Tack and try to find out, even though i figured they'd be annoyed with me for calling. Jason poured so much attention on Bax as he worshipped and massaged his body treating him as if he were his king, ordering me to suck his toes while he had his grimy hands all over my Master's torso rubbing oil into his supple skin while kissing it. Bax was totally into it, controlling Jason's head like it was a hoover, he moved it to whatever part of his body sought attention. Chest, abs, pits, biceps as he lounged in worship while we attended to his physical superiority. Stopping for a moment, Jason went to his desk and came back with what looked like a brand new red permanent marker with a huge wide tip on it. Looking to Bax he asked, "Do you mind?" Bax just chuckled and nodded knowingly. Uncapping the marker, Jason dragged the tip across my skin as he practically giggled. I know my submission to Master Bax is important, and it has incalculable value to both him and I for me to be able to obey him and accept his will against my own judgement, but it was really hard to accept that when I was faced with Jason. Smiling as he stepped away, Jason marched me to the mirror to show me in thick red letters across my skin he had scribed, `FAGGOT g'. "Very clever" i chuckled unperturbed. "This won't wash off for a couple days." i remarked lightly. Deciding to embrace and run with the situation rather than fight it, I moved to my Master's side and kneeled next to where he was laying with his head propped up on the bed. "Master, i am your faggot whore slave. I'll do whatever you want without question. I love worshipping your feet, your ass, your sweaty armpits and musky ass. I can serve you better than any other boy on campus and in ways that no one could ever match Sir. I'd be lost without your guidance Master." My competitive juices were flowing and I felt like this would up my score against the evil Jason in my Master's eyes. It seemed Bax had enough of passively receiving attention, because now he was on his feet in a wide stance while he put both of us on our knees before him. Looking down he spoke to us, "This is what you're here for pussies" and then he threw a double bicep pose before straightening his right arm and pointed to the heavens making himself look like a god. Jason and i both moaned, almost in unison. First he pulled Jason's mouth to his cock and started routing his head with his iron spike before switching to me, and then back to Jason and so on until both our heads were spinning. He pushed our faces together and told us, "swap my dick taste in your mouths faggots" and obeying Jason pushed his tongue into my mouth, subduing me in a way that i did not expect or even think possible. I hated Jason and now i was moaning as his mouth attacked mine softly and his hands rode over my skin in sensitive places and i flushed. Minding the abandonment, Bax grabbed Jason's head and pulled it away from me to use as a fuck hole again before switching to me again until i thought it better to slide around back and start licking Master Bax's ass so he could concentrate on just Jason's throat. Pulling Jason up to his feet in front of him, Bax indicated "On your bed on all fours". As Jason got into place, Bax pulled my face out of his ass where I'd been desperately burying my tongue in his hole and directed me, as he pointed to the desk chair, "Sit and watch loser." Slapping his dick on Jason's ass cheeks he asked, "Tell me how much you like my dick cunt." Jason blurted excitedly, "Your dick is perfect, your body is amazing. I want to feel it on me all the time. I want you to make me yours and own me." I thought that Jason's gush of words about Bax seemed honest, but how could he want Bax to own him when he belonged to Tack. I thought maybe he was just caught up in the moment, as I watched Jason's words go right to Bax's head as he lined up his rigid club with Jason's velvety hole. Then driving into his beautiful bottom, Jason gasped from the invasion. Jason gritted his teeth, begging "More, more please Sir. More!", amongst his own yelps cries and moans. My dick got hard in it's cage as i watched my Master devour the pretty boy in front of him. Pounding him on all fours, Master switched gears and stood up, assuming a standing position next to the bed, now force feeding him his cock in a brutal face fucking display. "You love my cock, don't `cha boy?", he taunted Jason as Jason groaned out his agreement. Moving back to his pussy, Bax drove in again as his body became wetter from the sweat he was making as he clouted his boys hole mercilessly. "Don't ... ever ... stop" Jason gasped out in between savage thrusts that tore him up inside, before admitting to Bax, "I need you so bad Sir, i need you." Jason's begging sent Bax over the edge as he unloaded his cum into Jason's deep hole, filling him with his alpha fluid. Both panted as Bax withdrew his cunt breaker from Jason's ass; Bax from the climax and Jason from the physical clobbering he'd endured. Standing and breathing heavily, Bax moved towards me, standing wide, me took my head and pushed my mouth down over his wet cock taunted, "How was the view from the cheap seats loser. You see how a real slave stud puts out? Now, do something useful and clean it up you useless pig." I obediently complied. Jason looked a little needier than i might have after receiving a fuck like Bax just delivered. My M.O. was usually to wait until i was alone afterwards and think about what Bax or Laith, Tack or Greg had just done to me while jerking my dick and get off privately. Jason seemed to need something with more direct interaction. Sensing Jason's need, Bax ordered, "Off the bed" then suggested, "Use this hole if you need one" gesturing to me. Jason was on his feet quickly, still looking hot in his bright blue jock that was now containing an obscene bulge. "You ready boy?", He asked. Refusing to answer i just hung my head as i watched my Master get comfortable on the bed. Jason dragged my face across his jock and i complied. He pulled his jock down and started face fucking me in front of my master and i complied. Now, he ordered me to get on all fours in the middle of the room, and again i complied. Lining up behind me he asked, "Why aren't you fighting this whore, huh?" I didn't respond. "I know you detest me, so why, huh?" he pressed on. "You think i'm this bad guy, so why let yourself get used by such an evil person, huh?" My head just hung in shame. "Is it because your Master demanded it, cus i didn't see that happen" he testified. I think you are just a cheap worthless whore. Slaves have honor, loyalty and integrity. You are just looking to be turned into a slut by any cock that swings in front of you faggot." Then he slammed his hard cock into me, making me jump and yell while Bax laughed watching what was happening. "You are just a weak fuckin' slut" he insulted. "Admit it bitch" He growled as he pistoned his cock into me hard. Then grabbing my hair he pulled back my head and used it like reigns as he arched my body and piledrove me. "Admit it you pig." he yelled this time, too caught up in his attack to worry about people hearing him. As he made me feel completely worthless, i confessed to both Jason and Bax, "I'm weak and worthless. I serve any man who takes me. Fuck me Jason, please fuck me and ruin my ass." i cried causing jason to up his intensity and growl as he punched a hole through me. "On your back cunt", he ordered as he pulled out of me and flipped me over. Realigning himself, he wasted no time in powering right back into me as i moaned loudly now, looking up at the sweet, pretty, evil, angry man that was owning my hole. Looking down into my eyes, he spit several times, before taunting, "Take my cock you cunt, You want it right?" I nodded and groaned before admitting, "Yes i want it, show me what a useless pig i am" i cried out in pain, finally admitting that it was ok for even someone as despicable and weak as Jason to own me. I could tell Jason's head had begun to spin and disconnect as he rutted me hard, his movements becoming more frantic and as he began to unload in me, he spat "Fuckin' useless bitch, take my slave seed you useless cunt." After a minute, he stood, letting my legs flop to the side. Looking down at me he observed, "There are Masters, and slave who loyally serve them. Below that are indiscriminate scum, like dogshit on the bottom of a shoe, that provide the lowest value. I think that's you."
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-30
Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2024 05:34:37 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 30 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 30 I get through two days of orientation and settling in before the weekend is here and the school goes into party mode for the next two days. It's Friday afternoon, the weather is still great, everyone is outside on campus, playing games, hanging out, get acquainted or re-acquainted as the case may be. Watching a frisbee match on the lawn, I pull my shirt off and take in the sun, deciding to maybe show off the physique in the meantime. As I'm watching the game, one guy stands out. A mid-sized blond is in the mix, playing aggressively, having fun, laughing, horsing around more than everyone else; his teammates are being extraordinarily physical with him, tackling him and taunting him, pushing him around needlessly, and he is loving it and laughing all the while. He seems to glow in taking it from the boys. I smile as it registers, `the beta'. The most noticeable thing about the guy is not his personality, though that is awfully attractive, but his simple physical beauty. Yeah, he is obviously a boy, but he has that kind of prettiness that makes everyone notice him and stare for a few seconds, then look back and stare again. And though those guys are often so cool and standoffish, this guy is the exact opposite of that, engaging everyone he comes in contact with. He must see me staring, because eventually he comes by to say hello, "Hey, I'm Jason. Enjoying the sites?" He asks. I choke a little, coughing to cover it, before looking up into his pretty eyes, "Yeah, what's not to enjoy?" I say cheekily. "Greg here. Nice to meet you." As I go to shake hands, he not only shakes, but he unexpectedly pulls me up, and I realize he is really strong too. I didn't see that at first. Now on my feet, we talk for about ten minutes. Both of us Freshmen, both in the dorm right there in front of us, him from Vermont, me from Boston. He makes it so easy to talk to him. I figure he had to notice me noticing him, but that doesn't even seem to matter now as we strike up an interest in each other and get to know one another. For the first week Jason and I are inseparable, spending all of our time together. Our second weekend in, we end up at a party, both of us getting too drunk, and I notice how handsy Jason is getting on the way back to our dorm. Come to my room he demands, and I say "Man, I really should go to bed", but he insists. We end up in his room and he ups his assault, feeling good about everything in his current heightened state. Touching me and horsing around, he ends up next to me, his hand taking inventory, laughing and both of us enjoying the flirting until his hand grazes my crotch and his hand impacts my cage. "What have you got down there?" He laughs. "Nothing, it's not anything man" I say trying to deflect. "No, really Greg, are you wearing a cup?" I explain to him that I'm not wearing a cup, but that it's a chastity cage. Jason is filled with questions, and eventually I end up showing him the cage and then my tattoos. We ended up talking for hours. I explained that even though I thought he was extremely hot, that I knew he was submissive from the first time I saw him on the playing field. He teased me saying "No man, I'm an insatiable Dom Top" before laughing at himself. Then more quietly, he admitted, "I saw you and thought you were really hot too. I was kinda hoping you might be more .... well dom." I felt bad for a second that I couldn't be what he wanted me to be, but I laughed and said, "I have enough dominant personalities around me to last a lifetime" I commented. Then more and more questions and conversation for hours. Me telling my story, him telling his. By the time we were done, we both knew everything about each other. He knew all I'd done over the past year, hell he'd even seen the pictures, including the video of me pledging myself to my Alpha Master Tack and the video of Tack destroying Master Greg. All seemed fine when I left there Sunday morning around 8:00 AM, going back to my dorm I slept all day as my roommate spent his day out. Sunday night I didn't hear from Jason, then all week there was radio silence. Getting used to everything was really hectic, so it kept my mind off of the cold shoulder I was getting from the person I thought was my new best friend, but I computed that the deep stories you tell in the middle of the night when you're drunk, play differently in the harsh light of day when you are sober; and I chalked it up to a lesson learned. I decided to be polite and considerate to Jason when I ran into him, but knew I had misjudged our closeness. Then, on Thursday night, I get a text from him, "Where have you been all week? Get over to my room! Now!" Laughing and completely reversing my judgement call, I gleefully jogged down to his floor and walked in his room. Jason was lucky enough to score a single, so I didn't have to worry about knocking for his roomie. "Hey" I beamed as I walked in. I expected him to be as jovial as his text, but Jason looked nervous, which wasn't normal for him. Waiting for him to speak up I watched him. "Greg, so I wanted to talk." `Here it comes', I thought to myself. Jason continued, "I don't have any of the experience you do, and I've been thinking about you...and your guys all week. I can't get it out of my head, ya know?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at yet, so I acknowledged, "Yeah, I understand. Is there something else you want to know?" He stammered for a few seconds and said, "You still see them, right?" The pieces started to come together. "Yeah, I do" I said smiling. "Well, do you think maybe I can meet Tack some time?" He said, showing relief that he got it out. I was beaming now, not wanting to let this opportunity go. I laughed and smiled uncontrollably as he blushed and looked away. I pointed my finger in Jason's face and chuckled as I made up a little sing-song, "You wanna be Tack's bitch, you wanna be his kinky slave. Jason is in love with Tack" I teased mercilessly. Laughing now himself, he launched himself off of the bed and onto me, grabbing me in a headlock and demanding I take it back. Still laughing uncontrollably I couldn't or didn't want to rough him up and was happy to allow him his dominance in fighting for what he wanted, to meet his future Alpha Tack. Eventually he took it back and he let me go and we collapsed and laughed for a bit. "Ok, strip" I said, looking seriously at Jason. "I thought you were just a sub?" He replied. "Pictures faggot" I replied. You don't think he isn't gonna demand your pictures?" I said casually. He looked a little nervous at first, but gave me a dozen perfect pictures of his irresistible body and angelic face. "No time like the present" I commented as I sent the photos off and made the request. `Be at my house on Saturday morning, 9:00 faggot and bring the sissy with you', was his response.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-25
Date: Wed, 6 Mar 2024 22:32:57 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 25 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 25 After Marblehead, I needed to recover both physically and mentally. Tack was right when he said I would be a hollowed out shell after he was done with me. Greg noticed me now though, and that made everything I had endured worth it. On the ride home on Sunday he sat next to me on the small bus and even though we didn't say much, he kept his leg pressed into mine and I felt him, his connection, and I was beyond grateful and felt complete. I needed to rest, but the next morning I still had to go to school. If I stayed home my mom would be all over me, and that would be the opposite of rest. I was careful to conceal any marks that had been delivered to my body over the weekend. I was moving slowly, not just because of the physical pains I was nursing, but because everything felt new and I wanted to see all that was happening, and not go so fast that I made mistakes. I didn't see Master Greg before class, but the 4 `Sado Wrestlers' (which I began to refer to them as in my head since Sunday night) were all chummy near their lockers when I got there. They looked surprised to see me as I approached them gingerly in the hallway. "Well faggot, how are you doing today" Tack said loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "I'm ok Sir" I replied submissively. "Sir? Sir?" Tack retorted inquisitively. Realizing my mistake and what he wanted I corrected, "I'm sorry Master. I meant to say Master and I am truly sorry". Though they all seemed to enjoy the spectacle going on, along with other students within earshot, no one seemed too shocked by what was happening or being said. My guess was that Tack had told all of his friends about his new status as my master. He probably played up his close relationship with my Master Greg as well. Looking at me with ice cold eyes, Tack directed me; "Show me the respect I deserve right now fag". I wasn't sure what that meant, but he wasted no time in showing me what he wanted. Right there in the crowded hall he pointed at the toe of his Nike and held his right foot forward and said "KISS IT" too loudly for the assembling mob. I could feel the eyes on me. I felt totally self-conscious and afraid, but not totally humiliated because most of the school had already heard stories about me and were trading rumors about how low I've gone. This showy display is not something that Master Greg or Laith would do because it was too public and they were more confident and subtle with less to prove; but Tack was riding his Alpha wave and this is what he wanted. I tried to blind my mind against everything else that was happening, and make it only about Master Tack and myself. Not paying attention to all of the murmurs, I kneeled before my new master, witnessed by all of our classmates, and leaned down and repeatedly kissed the top of his foot. As the blinders eventually lifted and I came back to reality, the catcalls and screams were deafening, and as I looked up even the sado-wrestlers looked a little surprised, but Tack certainly seemed the least surprised and most confident in his new role as King. The day was pretty average, other than the pointing and whispers I had become accustomed to. I went to see my guidance counsellor after school and began the difficult task of reversing my college decision. I explained that I would be declining my invitation to attend Dartmouth. My counsellor was shocked, having been so involved in my efforts to get accepted; but when I said it was for `personal reasons', she acknowledged with a sense of understanding and experience. We submitted my application for U Mass - Boston and she assured me the application was just a formality and that I would probably get a full scholarship, but she was very clear in explaining; "greg, U Mass is not Dartmouth and Veterinary medicine is hyper-competitive. If you did well at Dartmouth you'd be guaranteed a spot at a top Vet School, but your chances of getting into Veterinary School are a fraction of what they would be coming out of your newly chosen school." I acknowledged her advice and thanked her for all of her assistance. Walking home, it was sunny and I was feeling better than I had in a long time. Laith's VW pulled up next to me and stopped. Laughing, I looked into his car and smiled adding, "It's like you have a homing device on me." Smirking, he shot back, "I know everything faggo, now get in." Sliding into his car and under his influence felt so good. I loved my submission to my Masters, it made me feel alive. "I won't make you kiss my feet in the street" he added, looking to get a reaction. I was too content to take the bait. "What were you thinking?" He demanded. I laughed almost uncontrollably for about 20 seconds, which felt like a minute. "What was I thinking?" I asked back. "Master Laith" I asked, wanting to approach him super respectfully, especially after I laughed, "if you told me to lick your ass in front of my priest and I didn't do it, what would you do to me?" He reacted more than answered, "I'd end you, ya fucking cunt." I sighed, "Exactly SIR". He was silent and contemplative. After a few moments I pushed a little further, "So, do you like or dislike Tack?" He didn't respond quickly. For a guy who is smarter than everyone I know put together, I saw a little awareness grow in him as I asked that question. "I don't know yet", he answered honestly. He added, "You are such a submissive obedient cunt, and I have a hard time wrapping my head around that sometimes." I told Master Laith about my change of Universities and thanked him for the lovely weekend at the beach. He got the joke and threw me out of his car in front of my house, but not before saying, "You've got some heart pussy boy", to which I responded "I'm lucky to have you as my Master." He threw me the middle finger while scowling at me, and then pulled away fast. Now to tell the parents. Dinner was not a happy meal, but more of a food fight. My mother couldn't understand and thought the excuses I gave her were weak. My father was more understanding, but I think he knew that I was holding back something. Nothing got resolved, and they had no idea about the real reason I was opting to stay in Boston. I went to bed early and tried to sleep as much as I could since I returned, taking it easy at the gym, knowing I needed time to repair. I figured Master G was spending time with Aubrey and I hoped he was happy with the changes in me, as I tried to keep him updated with my activities. He was largely quiet on text and in person, though he acknowledged the information I shared with him. I ran into Master G at the gym on Tuesday, and I was all smiles while he seemed dark, contained and powerful. Before leaving he instructed me, "My house 9:00, you're staying over." I was worried about my capability and stamina so soon after the events of Marblehead, but my discomfort seemed secondary to his pleasure as I knocked on the door. He led me up the stairs to the attic. He'd been really quiet since the weekend trip, but not cold......just silent. I didn't understand it, but I rolled with it. Once in the attic, he stripped down to his square cut Adidas nylon underwear and I immediately hit my knees to acknowledge his greatness. Circling in front of me he rubbed my face over his bulge, teasing me and making me hunger for him. He kept this up for minutes, which felt like hours, before dropping his shorts and making me whimper and beg for his manhood. I licked his feet and cleaned out his ass in order to earn the honor of having him choke me on his cock. He wasn't buried down my throat for a minute before I was blowing my load uncontrollably all over the floor, with a little hitting his powerfully veined athletic feet. When I came completely untouched, he chuckled and said, "What a fuckin' bitch" and he increased his intensity and pace, using my mouth and throat much harder and rougher than he had originally began. I was honored to take the rough use, as it is my duty and obligation, and I was so proud to once again be at my master's feet serving him. After burying his cunt basher deep in my throat and blasting his precious load into me, he finished by slapping my face with his post-orgasm stud cock. I was in heaven as Master G tormented me, loving the attention I was receiving from him, beaming in my role as his servant and slave as he abused me, I was happy to worship his feet as he sat down on the couch and pointed to his sweaty athletic soles. Things were again right with the world for me. After a while he directed me to stop and sit up, and I reacted quickly, looking him in the eyes. "Slave" he addressed me more formally than normal, "Tell me about the last few days." Not knowing exactly what he wanted to know, I overshared, as is my habit, telling him about my feelings of regret in the way I handled things, my great appreciation for his patience and strength in helping to mold me, my withdrawal from Dartmouth and enrollment at U Mass. Basically my utter devotion to him and his life. He was relatively quiet, almost solemn, and I wanted him to be happy, but he was far more reserved than I was. Dragging me up from the floor and pushing my back down into the couch, he straddled me and covered my muscled body with his smaller superior frame. Grinding me down aggressively, he spoke quietly into my ear. "I know what you did was not easy. You did it because you need me. Admit that to me greg, tell me why you changed your life for me." I began to shake a little, then huff my breath. I composed myself and complied, "Master, I will always regret making you unhappy Sir. I could have lost you and my life would be meaningless and I would be useless. It's my life now to do anything to please you, and I will never stop trying to show you how much you mean to me and how much I want and need to be owned by you Sir. You are everything." I declared. He growled quietly, "Don't expect me to thank you for it cunt, you're lucky to have me. Damn lucky. Whose your Master, he asked?" "You are my Master." I spoke firmly. "Who, and louder" he clarified. "You are Master Greg, Captain Greg is my owner and Master" I said more loudly. Then he lowered himself down towards me, and I was sure he was going to press his lips against mine and I was in heaven, but instead he slid his face to the right of mine and as he laid on top of me, he fell asleep. More content than I can remember, I felt privileged to rest under my Master and King as his cushion, as he slept while I felt his perfection so close to me.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-55
Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2024 02:11:10 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 55 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 55 That whole deal with greg is pretty fucked up, don't you think? And that guy Brian Baxter is turning out to be a totally warped fucker.", Laith said as he laid next to Tack on the couch. Tack laughed, "I can't tell by what you're saying if you like Bax more than you thought or less." "It's just like they are really fucked up and extreme", Laith pondered. "I think you like it" Tack said, getting off of the couch and standing in front of Laith. Grabbing his phone he started filming Laith as he lie in front of him. "Why don't you tell me what you want. Lets see how pathetic you sound." he ordered his boy. Laith looked torn, not knowing how serious Tack was, but not wanting footage around that could get into the wrong hands. He told himself that after the situation with Jason, he'd never allow himself to be put in those circumstances ever again. As Laith tried to squirm away, Tack put his bare foot up on Laith's chest and pushed him back into the cushions. Next he slid his foot up onto Laith's face and commanded, "Tell the viewers what you want." as he slid his toes into Laith's mouth. Feeling trapped between submission and dignity, Laith chose submission to Tack, praying the recording would remain confidential. As Tack's toes pressed past his lips, his dick jerked and he moaned as he began to expose himself for his Master. Looking into the camera, beginning with a smirk but then getting serious, Laith confessed, "I like you having control over me and deciding stuff for me and making me do things that i don't want to. When you display your strength and use me, and sometimes even degrade me to let people know your my man and that i belong to you, well i just think I'll explode when you do that.... but in a good way. I liked when you pimped me out to your friend Jay because it made me feel your total influence over me. I like that, I feel like more of your slave.... just more complete in a lot of ways when i am a part of you, and i know to be with you is to follow you, obey you and belong to you. I will always submit to you Master." Not the scathing words Laith had expected to record, but he was still touched by the brave words his slave shared, though he'd never show a reaction. "On the floor slave...... on your back" Tack commanded as Laith slid from the couch and got into position. Standing over his prey, Tack dripped spit down into Laith's mouth, sometimes getting it in the hole, sometimes making a mess of his boy's face. Massaging the spit in with his toes as he dragged Laith's hair down onto his face as well, the video making Laith look like a sloppy whore. Lowering himself to straddle Laith's chest, Tack laid his cock head on Laith's tongue. As Laith began to suck, Tack corrected him, "Whoa girl, just slow down for your man, we're not doing that yet." Laith was not prepared for this, but he'd never felt quite so submissive to anyone before in his life. Before forming a soft seal around Tack's cock he said, "Yes Sir" and as Tack began to slowly stream his piss into his slave's mouth, Laith swallowed ambitiously, trying to do the best job he could. Once again Tack asked while pointing the camera, "tell the viewers what you think of being my urinal queer." After his last gulp, admitting it was his first, Laith told the camera, "Master Tack popped another of my cherries by pissing down my throat. I hope i made him happy, and i hope to get better at serving him all of the time." Then Laith smiled for the cam. Now telling Laith to strip and lay back down on the floor, Tack stood over him and asked, "Who's your Master?" Laith responded confidently, "You Are! Alpha Master Tack owns me." "How much do you like looking at your Master's body slave?", Tack asked next. "I love seeing you, memorizing every inch of your body with my fingers, my lips, my tongue and my eyes" Laith admitted. Taking a double bicep pose over Laith, the boy moaned in satisfaction at the sight of his Alpha. Tack placed his right foot over Laith's dick and balls, grinding them often painfully under his sole as he smirked. The more Tack flexed and the more he painfully grinded his slut, the harder Laith's cock got and the more pre he pumped until he was moaning uncontrollably and Tack ordered, "Cum for me slut, shoot your faggot slave load all over while you watch me dominate you." That was all Laith could take before he began to cum huge volleys all over his abs and chest as his body convulsed and shook with satisfaction. Now setting the camera on the floor leaning against a table leg, Tack set Laith up on all fours facing the camera, then he lined up behind him. Pressing his cock head against Laith's cunt, he slid in slowly but unrelentingly until he was all the way in. He knew that because Laith had just cum, this would be more uncomfortable or even painful for him. That idea aroused Tack. As he let Laith's chute acclimate, he told him, "Ya know, it was when you were fucking Jason for the first time right over there in this exact same position that you pissed me off with your arrogance and i decided i needed to break you. That's when i started working on my plan to own you." All Laith could do was moan, "OOhhhh GODD YESSS" as Tack started to take up a rhythm and clout Laith's supple soft boy-hole as he ramped up from athletic to powerful. "Yes break me" Laith gasped as Tack began hammering him. "Bitch, once i set my sights on you i knew i'd have you." he barked as he rammed himself brutally into Laith, "The hottest senior in school is mine, my fucking property, my bitch, my whore" he roared as he slammed Laith from all fours down onto his stomach, and from a pushed up position began to drive Laith's body into the floor with his steel missile. "Yes Sir, YESSSS....... Master, YESSSS, Please, please, please, oh god, yes please" he began to cry as Tack once again feminized his ass into a pussy for his pleasure. Tack's movements became more insistent as he drove harder and penetrated further until he was pouring loads of his cum into his beta once again, as Laith panted, "All yours, yes all yours, all yours." As they laid there recovering, Tack whispered in Laith's ear, "If you still want me to spend the summer with you, i will faggot. Laith sighed, "Thank you Sir. Thank you." Tack never wanted to appear too emo to anyone, and with Tack saving Laith from Jason, and agreeing to go away with him for the summer, their bond was starting to feel very personal and intense. Tack didn't want to feel like he was getting too close to Laith emotionally, however he never considered that he might be afraid of being disappointed himself. One thing Tack did know however was his decision to go to Marblehead with Laith for the summer felt like a giant step. Despite his recent decisions and feelings, Tack still wanted to declare his sovereignty and make sure that Laith knew his Master hadn't gone soft. Deciding to fuck with Laith's mind while reinforcing the strong DOM/sub dynamic that he expected, Tack planned an event for them. He told Laith to pick him up on Friday around 7:00. The plan was for them to meet some of their friends at a school event and then go for pizza after. When Laith got to Tack's house, he just walked in the side basement door without knocking. As he moved towards the couch he saw Tack wearing a pair of Laith's tailored training pants and an old pair of classic Nike trainers worn sockless. Laith's dick jumped and he let out a sigh. Tack didn't look ready to go out though, but Laith could definitely go for sex instead instead of a night out he thought. He smiled at Tack, but he could immediately sense there was someone else in the room. Turning towards the workout bench Laith could see Bax sitting there shirtless pumping out dumbbell shoulder presses, wearing a pair of cargo shorts hanging low on his hips and Nike hightop on his otherwise bare feet. "Good set" Brian commented to himself and both of them as he sprung up giving Laith a big Hollywood smile. Smirking Laith directed his glance towards Tack, "What's up man?" Tack laughed, "Well fag, you seemed so infatuated with Bax last time his name came up, so i arranged for him to stop by and visit you before he leaves school for the summer." "Uh.... i don't need a visit man" Laith said looking back and forth between both Tack and Bax, wanting to let both of them know that he was just fine. "I don't think so boy" Tack corrected. You were practically ovulating over his muscles and attitude last time we talked. Bax grinned huge as he heard that, and mentioned, "Yeah, and from the videos i see of you baby boy, you are in need of as much dominant dick as you can get." Laith shot a pleading look at Tack, to which Tack just smiled. Sitting back, Tack watched; wanting to give Bax room to work. His sweaty muscled-up body approaching Laith with the promise of all the kinky destructive things he'd done to greg, made Laith totally wary of their visitor, but also made his cock jerk in his pants. "I'm here to add to your film library, and maybe pass it around a little.", Bax announced. As much of a turn-on as this level of dominance could be, Laith's fight or flight instinct kicked in, as he felt the need to avoid Brian at any cost. Plus, would Tack really do this to him? Laith moved to cut and run, trying to outmaneuver Bax. He got around him initially, but Brian took him as he tried to get around the sofa. Bax was bigger and stronger, but Laith was a trained wrestler with the ability to come out on top. As they rolled around on the floor, it wasn't clear who would get the advantage. As Brian was able to lock a choke onto Laith, he still couldn't do anything while engaging the choke except immobilize his captor. Laith began to beg for Tack's help to get Bax off of him. Tack approached the boys slowly, making eye contact with Laith, even hinting a smile towards him. As he approached, he pulled Bax's arms from around Laith's neck to free him from Bax, and then sunk into Bax's place and put a full nelson hold on Laith as Bax got up and positioned himself between Laith's legs. Laith cried out "What are you doing?" as Bax stripped Laith of all of his clothing as Tack controlled his body. Pulling out his camera, Bax started to record the struggling boy beneath him. "Here we have Laith Shaw, dying for me to fuck him." "Please shut that camera off", Laith yelled. "But you still want me to fuck you after i do, right?" Bax asked cheekily. "Please turn the camera off, please." he cried. As Bax began to line him up to penetrate him while he felt the pain of betrayal from Tack, Laith honestly began to cry, "Please don't, please no, not on camera. You can't do this." Letting Laith go, Tack got up pushed Bax aside and straddled his boy's chest. Looking down into his eyes he tried to explain to his boy, "There was no recording, We were just playing with you. It might have gone a little too far. I'm sorry" Laith wasn't hearing what Tack was saying immediately, and Tack had to sit on Laith's chest for several seconds until the message actually registered in his head. Fear turned to relief as he sighed, and then immediately to anger as he tried to attack both Tack and Bax, but finally they broke him down into laughter as they held him down in unison and attacked and tickled his body. Panting on the floor for a while as they all recovered, Laith couldn't help but relive his fears to Tack, as Tack had this new emotional effect on him. "When i thought you were going to do to me what it seemed like you were doing, well i just couldn't handle it. It hurt so much to think you wanted to do it .... to me. I was scared of the consequences yeah, but it was like i was getting ripped apart inside too, by you. Tack's face showed he never expected things to go this way, as he looked distraught that what he'd done had this effect on his boy. Placing himself straddling Laith's hips as Laith leaned up against the couch while he sat on the floor, Tack looked Laith in the eyes and explained, "There was never a recording. I just thought i was gonna play out a hot scenario for you, but i really misjudged boy. I'm sorry. While i like to make you uncomfortable and push you and even punish you sometimes, I would never do anything to hurt you ever." Bax added, "Yeah Laith, the plan was never to record you, I'm sorry too. After what Jason did, we should have seen this coming, but we screwed up man." As Bax stood up to get dressed, Laith and Tack just sat there, Laith trying to put all of this in perspective. Tack, realizing how this whole experience made him feel, leaned into Laith, nuzzled his nose into Laith's hair and whispered into his ear, "I know i love you now boy. I'm sorry about everything but it made me understand how much i care, and that i love you." Laith embraced his Alpha while they sat there, imperfectly in love. As Bax rounded the corner with his sack in hand, Laith complained, "Where do you think you're going?" Bax and Tack look confused. "I was expecting to get fucked and passed around by both of you all night, and that's what's gonna happen." Bax finding the whole turnaround funny, looked at Tack and said, "I'm fucking her first and baby I'm gonna smoke that ass with my cock after all of this drama." That's exactly what the two men did to Laith for hours, until he begged both of them for mercy and a chance to rest.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-59
Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2024 04:38:59 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 59 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 59 By the time i left my job in Southampton I'd lost about 15 pounds and looked different, more model-y and maybe more edgy and less mainstream. I'd become good friends with Allie and even Oliver, and I had some good memories from our season together. I wished them well and promised to stay in touch as we left each other and Bax took me to the Long Island Railroad Station, bound for an Amtrak North at Penn Station. It was still ten days before we needed to be on campus before school started, and Bax had promised me to Jason for a week. I had fought his decision the best I could, but because I didn't really feel that I had complete control of myself, Bax's demands are the ones that got honored. I was to board a train to White River Junction in Vermont where Jason would pick me up for a week's stay at his family's house. His intention was to prepare me to better serve his Master Bax during the upcoming school year. Arriving in Vermont in late August, it felt like Autumn had already started compared to Long Island. Seeing Jason standing by himself in the station, i observed how well he transitioned to country life as his jeans, boots and plaid shirt made him look ruggedly handsome. It was nearly enough for me to forget what terrible things he'd done. Having me follow him out to his pickup, i tossed my bag in the bed of his family's pickup truck whose doors were labeled with the name their family farm which happened to be a fruit tree orchard. As i moved to get into the passenger seat, he simply pointed to the bed of the truck with his finger. I was beyond discussion or debate these days, i'd become much more accepting and content with my stature as the lowest order of submissive, so lacking reaction or expression, i simply closed the truck door and moved to the back of the truck, jumped into the bed and sat down on the floor next to my bag. Their farm was located between White River Junction and Woodstock, Vermont which is a popular vacation destination for skiing in winter and outdoor activities in summer. As we pulled onto their property, Jason drove past the house and around back to the barn. Indicating i should get my things, i followed Jason into the barn and up steps to a loft that looked down over the first floor. The loft had a bed and a few pieces of furniture, and looked like it would have been a fun place for children to sleep out overnight or escape to play. Making sure to reinforce my position in my new environment, Jason made sure i knew i was here to work as well as prepare for my upcoming duties, and not to expect anything different. He let me know I was not to go into the house and that i was to go to the bathroom outside and use the large pond behind the barn to wash myself. With every word he uttered he lessened me. He'd wake me up at 5 AM daily to do chores that he would supervise and slave training would be carried on in the afternoons. Transitioning from working late nights to early mornings was difficult and my first day was exhausting as he made me fix fences, cut tree limbs, pile branches, and muck stalls. I could tell some of the work had been deferred in anticipation of my arrival. The only thing that did feel considerate about Jason is that he made sure I drank enough water during my work day. Around 2:30, Jason dropped me off at the barn, told me to go clean up in the pond and get back to the barn after. When he arrived back in the loft about 45 minutes later, i lie sleeping on the bed completely wiped out. Kicking me, he hollered, "get up bitch, you're not done yet." As i groggily stood, he swung his right hand to bitch slap me, and i went down hard to the floor. I didn't want to get up, i just wanted to lie there and let him do whatever he wanted to me, rather than try to get up again. Dragging me up he tied my wrists to straps that he had rigged. The straps were attached to ropes slung over the beams above us. He pulled me so my toes could barely touch the floor as i hung. Stripping me of my clothes he observed, "you look weak. What happened to you this summer?" I didn't respond as it didn't seem to matter what i had to say anymore. I just waited as he circled me and taking a fight stance threw fists, first into my right side, then my left, softening me up and making me yelp when he would contact my kidneys. Removing his belt he folded it in his hand and began to strap my back, alternating between hard and brutal as i swung from the ropes and took his beating. While i moaned and gasped, my reaction was not as full or rich as Jason had hoped. When he finally detached me from the ropes and i fell to the floor, he observed, "You seem lifeless pig. What's wrong with you. I can't even coax a good scream or cry from you." As i lay there, I looked up at Jason and explained. "Master, I am broken. You broke me before I even left campus. You showed me the level of brutality and cruelty you would use on me. I'll never fight you again. I completely accept my submission Master." Smirking as if he still didn't believe me, he kicked me with his boot. I wasn't sure if i heard a crack as it connected with my body and i rolled over groaning on the floor. For the next few days i worked like a robot for Master Jason all day and tried to sleep as much as i could in the evenings. Two days before i was to leave Vermont to head back to Boston, Jason came to the loft one evening just after sunset with a young boy who looked like he was a cowboy in training. He was about 14 years old, and not even five and a half feet tall. He was lanky with a face that was plain but looked too grave for a boy his age. His walk, talk and dress told me that he took himself too seriously at such an early age. As Jason lectured him, I listened too. "Jack, you're gonna come in contact with these inferior fags from time to time, and you have to know what to do with them. They need a strong hand, powerful leadership if you wanna get everything out of them that you can. You see how i worked him the last five days. You see how i made such a useless pig into a valuable work hand." Jack nodded yes, "I see, yeah." Continuing Jason informed the younger boy, "And like I told you, these inferiors, they need to be used like I explained to you. They need to service men like you and know their place. It's up to you to show him his place. Make him serve you and make him work for you." Jack shook his head affirmatively, but it was clear he had no ideas what he was affirming. Jason suggested, "I'll show you. You follow me and do exactly what i do and you'll learn what pigs like this need.", and Jack anxiously agreed. As Jason stepped in front of me, dropped his pants and took two fistfuls of my hair, he drove his hardening cock into my head and began to pummel the back of my throat. "See how i use this bitch to suck my cock?" he asked as he choked me on his cock. Now slicked up, he stood me up and unfastening my belt he spun me around and pushed down my pants to my ankles, bent me over and stabbed his hard wet cock up into me as i yelped loudly. "Now, you use his mouth" Jason instructed Jack. I was beyond questioning anything that Jason told me to do, but i felt criminal allowing myself to be used by such a young man. Jack slid his smaller cock in my mouth and pumped it awkwardly. As i used my lips and tongue to pleasure him, it began to get hard and fill my mouth and then my throat as he was able to find his groove. As Jason watched, he was obviously turned on because it didn't take him long before he was shooting his cum into me growling, "Take my cum you weak pathetic faggot. Know your place and eat my jizz you queer." He pulled out and sat on the bed, wanting to watch what was going on between Jack and me. Jack continued to use my head like a melon as he choked my throat and poked at my mouth with his now hard as nails cock. Then without being told, he pulled out and went behind me and used his finger to make sure he'd found my hole. Lining his cock up with the hole, he pushed it in like he was dropping batteries into a flashlight, and i yelped loudly. "Damn" He exclaimed, "the bitch makes a lot of noise" he joked with his mentor Jason. "Yeah man, that's it" Jason cheered, which egged him on more as he began to fuck me harder and harder and Jason praised him more and more. After several minutes, his hands grasped frantically at my waist and his thrusts became less smooth and regular. Now moaning and gasping, he began to ram at me erratically and yelled, "Fuck, you take my cum queer, take it.", as he continued to bang at my ass and spew his load into me. As Jason praised him and they got dressed, Jason told Jack, "This bitch will be here for two more days, so you come use her anytime you like until then. It'll be a good way to learn." Jack smiled, "I'll be back later..... bitch" he said awkwardly as they walked down the steps. Jack didn't lie as he returned within a few hours; and thereafter was in the loft fucking me in every different way he could think of until I left two days later.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-29
Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2024 05:33:30 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 29 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 29 The days before my departure for U Mass were challenging. Yeah, I was trying to get packed and ready for the move and to prepare for living on campus and attending college courses, but the fallout from Tack staking Alpha status over me had created a big rift between Greg and Tack and it turned into a showdown between the two of them. I was there when they got into it on the day Master Greg and Laith got back from the beach. Master Greg showed up at the park where Tack, Karson and Ben were horsing around, shooting hoops and hanging out. I was sitting on the small bleachers, because Alpha Master Tack liked when I was there to watch him compete in anything. As I saw him approach, my immediate response was excitement. His skin was tanner, his hair blonder and my heart fluttered when I saw him. Master Greg however was completely focused, cold and uninterested in anything but confronting Tack. "So this is the loyalty you show me?" Master Greg said as he approached the court, shoulders back, tensed like he was fight-ready. Tack spun around, a little surprised but very composed, "Say again Greg?" "Is that how you show loyalty and friendship?" Greg repeated. "I don't know Greg. What's the protocol for when your slave gets raped by someone who isn't their master? How do you square doing nothing about that?", Alpha Master Tack inquired. I could see Greg getting angrier. "What the fuck was that video you made all about? How do you square sending that out?" Greg shot back. "First" Tack replied, "I only sent it to you and Laith, just his Masters. Second, I didn't make it, he did" he said pointing at me. I had to make eye contact with Master Greg as he glanced in my direction, but I knew he didn't want to see me. Then he moved to Tack and got up in his face. "Your days as one of his Masters is over" Greg commanded, turning red. "Listen, you don't have that kind of control, at least not anymore." Tack educated him. "Plus, I'm not starting this fight, remember that! Whatever happens here is on you, not me. I'm just telling you what the deal is. If you don't like it, you can fuck off. At that, Greg charged Tack and took him down to the asphalt of the court. Greg was both bigger and more skilled as a wrestler than Tack. To Tack's credit, he was more ruthless and determined than anyone I had ever met. They rolled for a second, and Greg ended up taking a swing and connecting with the side of Tack's head. Tack grabbed Greg and started rolling again until he was now on top. He sent a right and a left into Greg's head which caused him to lose focus, and then he began to throw punch after punch into his midsection, demolishing his abs and breaking him down. It was a quick defeat as Greg submitted to Tack within less than two minutes. Getting off of Greg, Tack flipped him face down and positioned his ass on Greg's. Putting his right and then left hands under Greg's chin he proceeded to pull back some, then used one hand at a time to pull Greg's arm over each of his knees. Then, he pulled back on Greg's head, locking him into a Camel clutch for everyone to see. "Karson" Tack ordered, "Get my phone off the bench and record this." At first Karson hesitated, but one look at Tack's face and he followed the directions he was given. Becoming brutal now, Tack dragged Greg's head back further and further, forming his body into a "C" shape. I could tell he was fighting with all of his strength not to fold, but he could only hang on for a little while before he broke and started screaming his submissions once again. I wanted to cry at the scene, but a part of me was really turned on as well. Emotionally it was too hard to categorize because so many things were all intertwined in this exchange. "Who is the Alpha?" Tack yelled, while Greg willed himself to stay quiet. Bouncing in his hold and destroying Greg's back and neck more ruthlessly than ever, Tack's voice more quiet and calm this time asked, "Who is the Alpha?" The question hung there as Greg suffered terribly for what seemed like hours but was less than a minute before he quietly submitted through a pained moan, "You're the Alpha". Tack's smile was massive as he encouraged Greg, "One more time for the camera. Who is the Alpha? And use my name." Again, Greg tried to hang on, with Tack punishing him heavily for his courage. Finally he broke, proclaiming, "Tack is the Alpha." Getting off of Greg, Tack stood over him in a double bicep pose, Karson capturing the entire scene on video, and Tack tearing off his shirt and flexing his strong sinewy torso over Greg. Tack's lust still alive, I was shocked and afraid when he flipped Greg's nearly broken body over onto his back, straddled his chest in a school boy and told him, "Open your mouth". I didn't want Greg to suffer anymore. Greg refused, and Tack took his arm and began to twist it, starting with his fingers and then his elbow, he promised to tie it in a knot if Greg didn't open his mouth. With a yelp, I noticed Tack bend down and pour the spit from his lips into Greg's open mouth, again the video capturing all of this. Tack rose triumphantly over Greg and hollered out "YEAH!" Picking up his things and walking over to the bleachers where I was seated, he questioned "Did you like that beta-bitch?" One thing I learned as a slave is that honesty is key, so I replied, "It was hard to watch Alpha Master Tack. It was also hot". Tack Inquired "What was hardest?" "Watching the end of my Master." "And what was hot?, he continued. "Well, you of course" I admitted grinning. "You are such a fucking weak pussy bitch" he said slapping my face moderately. "Now lick my sneakers while we wait for Greg to walk by so he can watch you worship your Alpha" he ordered. It took a few minutes, but Greg finally got up and collected his phone and keys which had fallen out of his pockets during the fight. He ignored Karson and Ben as he collected his things and looked angry and hurt as he walked past us as I served Alpha Master Tack on the bleachers. Tack did not taunt Greg, nor did he hide his victory. He had changed the order of things, and that was just a matter of fact. Alpha Tack took me home with him and stripping down to his dirty jock and sweat socks he allowed me to worship his perfect body and clean all of the sweat and dirt from it with my mouth, lips and tongue. It wasn't long before Tack's phone rang and all I could hear was "yeah, sure. Now's fine. Doors open." Pretty soon after I saw Master Laith walk in the door and I was surprised. "Hey man, how was the summer?" Tack asked as Laith took a seat on a chair near the couch. I was feeling really uncomfortable, as I didn't know what to expect, until Tack instructed me, "Show Master Laith the respect he deserves." I immediately crawled to Master Laith and started worshipping his feet. He was tan, wearing flip flops, shorts and sunglasses and looked as hot as I've ever seen. As I cleaned Master Laith's feet, I listened to him ask about what had happened earlier. Tack's rendition was pretty much a neutral accounting of the facts. Laith was upset with the situation, but he said to Tack, "I don't know what you could have done differently man?" The summary version is that the three of them talked after my experience with Ash. Laith took the lead in getting retribution on Ash, and when Greg said he didn't care, that really rubbed Tack the wrong way. Come to find out that Greg and Ash had some unfinished business, and Greg was avoiding confrontation with Ash, which under the circumstances, Tack thought was pretty cowardly. The whole thing might have amounted to nothing, but Tack decided after using me for a bit that he really liked having a slave. His loss of respect for Greg along with my utter submission to him told him that he was the only one who could be my Alpha. After the majority of their conversation had ended, things heated up a bit with Laith and I, and Laith used my throat good and hard, dumping a load deep in me that made me feel like myself again and calmed me during all of this chaos. When Laith got up to go, I asked both my Masters if I could talk to Master Laith for a minute. Master Laith reluctantly agreed as long as it was in front of Tack. Tack was fine with it. "What faggo?" Laith said impatiently. "Well, a lot has been going on and I just want to make sure that you're ok with everything and that you are not mad at me." Laith responded, "Why? What did you do wrong?" Tack chuckled. "Master, I don't know, I just wanted to make sure you don't think I did something disloyal or disrespectful." Laith chuckled this time. "Bitch, you aren't supposed to be loyal, and you have no respect for yourself so how you gonna be good at understanding how to have it for others. You're supposed to go with the most powerful Alpha that claims you. That's what you did. Game over." Seeing he was impatient, I hurried, "Can I ask one more question?" His reply, "Whaaaaat faggot?" Trying to be quick about it I said, "Will Master Greg be ok?" Turning to leave Laith said, "Who knows" as he walked out the door.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-26
Date: Wed, 6 Mar 2024 22:33:58 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 26 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 26 Graduation was a blur. I ended up going to a few parties, but it was hard to talk to a lot of the people there. It wasn't just me being self-conscious, people had been talking about me, and stories had been flying around, so it made it more difficult to get through that chaos and just hang out with or talk to people. Some just wanted to confirm the rumors or dig up more dirty details. I tried to roll with it, confirming things that seemed harmless, avoiding questions that were too personal or intrusive. I ran into Jack (the lavatory hero and the guy who helped Master Greg coordinate the garage event in Marblehead) at Mallory Peeke's bash that I stopped by late on Sunday night. I found that the earlier I went to a graduation party, the more crowded and family oriented it felt, but later the people were more relaxed and there were less people, so it felt less intense. We ended up hanging out by the pool after the sun went down, and I felt comfortable telling him about some of the details that happened that evening at the beach that he didn't get to witness, even though he knew the basic story. He seemed really upset that I turned down my ride to Dartmouth, and I understood his view as he didn't have any clue how my mind and soul worked. I found out he was heading to American University in D.C., studying history and then maybe law school. It was feeling like a successful night with no collisions or hit and runs until I could see Ashley (Ash) our mutual teammate and Jack's best friend from the wrestling team approach. He wasn't drunk, but he was more than half way there. His defenses were down, as he had a flask in his pocket and had been mixing since he got to the party. I tensed up a lot, but his laughing, smiling and joking made me feel like he wasn't that lethal. His mind was on a single track, wanting to humiliate me, he let me know he'd heard all of the stories; making sure to call me a `faggot, bitch, cunt and pussy' as he let me know that no self-respecting man would allow themselves to be used the way I seemed to enjoy being used. I shocked him some by agreeing, which I think pissed him off and made me smirk. Grabbing me by the collar, he said, "why don't you let me be the judge of your faggotry for myself?" `Check mate', I thought. I didn't see that coming. I'd blown Jack over a dozen times, but Ash always thought killing me would be preferable to getting a blow job from me, so I never thought about him ever wanting to use me that way. I didn't want to get involved with Ash, or even Jack. I was completely content these days. Then, Jack put his arm over my shoulder and walked me into the side yard with Ash right behind me. From the yard, we continued into the adjoining woods. I knew this was a bad idea, but I was being manipulated by two dominant guys and I'm known to follow the leader in situations like this. Once we got pretty far in, Ash became more aggressive. He pushed me down to my knees fast and unbuckled his belt, starting to fish his big blonde cock out of his jeans. Jack chuckled at his friend's enthusiasm, and added, "Ash you'll be impressed, he really is that good a cocksucker." Then Jack more casually dropped his shorts and let his cock hang, waiting to share my mouth with his bud. For a few minutes they passed my mouth back and forth while I gagged on their impressive tools until Ash moved behind me and grabbed my hips, standing me up on my feet. I was completely surprised, and then he started to wrestle my shorts over my hips to expose my ass. "NOOOO" I yelled, and Ash grabbed me by the neck and pulled me back against his chest and growled in my ear, "faggot, not another fuckin' word out of your mouth or I will end you. I never forgot about you calling my sister a cheap whore." Attempting to fix the misunderstanding, I responded "I wasn't calling her...." to which Ash slammed his fist into my lower back, not wanting to hear the details of my reasoning. "Not another word cocksucker" he demanded. The dusk was fading to darkness in the woods, but I could still see Jack's face and his eyes saying `No' to his friend Ash without speaking. "As soon as this bitch said that about my sister outside the lav last year I promised myself I'd return the favor." Jack's face looked way more worried now. He was definitely no physical match for Ash. They were both just under 6 feet tall and both weighed around 175, but Jack was softer and gentler. Ash was lean and angular, his body much more machine-like and his attitude always seemed to be fired by high octane fuel. "Ash...... PLEASE don't do this" he begged. "It's not worth it man, just don't." Not one word of what Jack said effected Ash. "Jack, it's time for you to leave man. You were never here." A moment passed and Ash growled "Now". Jack looked down at my face and he could see my fear, but somehow I nodded to him subtly, maybe even unconsciously, but I knew I did it. I gave him my blessing to leave. Jack looked pale as he nervously pulled his shorts up quickly without thinking very much about what he was doing. He turned and headed back out of the woods. Ash spun me back to facing him and pushed me to my knees. "Get to work whore" he ordered. "Slide my flip flops off and get my jeans off bitch" he said as he increased the pounding of his hard cock into my throat. "Now slide off my briefs and hand `em up here" he directed. I handed him his white 2Xist briefs by feel, as he had my face pressed against his pubes. "Now slide my flops back on my feet you cunt" he demanded. His cock was now steel solid and bashing my throat. Scooping under my shoulders he yanked me up and looking down to my face slightly he hocked up some phlegm which he spat on my face. Wadding up his briefs he shoved them hard into my mouth and I felt the corners of my lips pull too tight. "Don't let these fall out of your mouth and make sure to bite down hard fag" he advised. Spinning me around and yanking my shorts a little farther down so they lay near my ankles, he pushed my back forward forming a 90 degree angle at my waist, and I grabbed the trunk of the small tree in front of me. With little to no warning, his cock was at my hole and slammed into my still damaged and bruised hole. My reaction was immediate and more than anyone, including Ash, could have expected as I let loose a bloody scream into his briefs and my body shook as if I was having a seizure. I could even feel Ash pause for a mili-second from my reaction, but he managed to push through and as he plunged three, four and five times into my cunt, the initial trauma subsided and my bruised body accepted more Alpha dominance from this stud as he raped my hole hard. I was surprised that my body was able to accept his hard fuck without passing out given what I'd been through, and I realized I was sobbing and tears were rolling down my cheeks from the pain and embarrassment. "You fucking worthless cum-dump faggot. I don't ever want to see your face again you useless bitch. Your lucky this is all I'm doing to you, you cunt" He said as his pace proceeded to furious and his pounding became even more brutal. My mind went to it's place, and I started to repeat silently, "this is what I'm supposed to do, this is what I'm supposed to do" as he dominated me completely before moaning and planting his godly seed in me. Pushing me off of him, I fell to the ground and stayed motionless, still sobbing. He reached down and pulled his briefs from my mouth, shoving them in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled his jeans back on. Before leaving me there on the ground, he asked, "Did you like that bitch?" Between sobs I acknowledged, "Yes Sir" and he chuckled and walked out of the woods. I must have laid there for fifteen minutes before I started to pull myself together. My keys, wallet, phone, all there. I moved carefully, still taking inventory of my body to figure out what was ok, and what wasn't. Then I made my way along Mallory's yard, exiting the woods near the street so I wouldn't have to see anyone from the party. I got to my car and felt the need to get away from there quickly. I stopped at a gas station and just sat in my parked car in the lot for probably half an hour, maybe more before I got out used the bathroom, cleaned myself up, bought a soda and then headed home. My parents were in bed, so I snuck quietly into my room and tried hard to fall asleep, but my mind raced for hours before it would allow me to rest. The next morning I woke to a text waiting on my phone from Jack. "Hey" was all it said. Obviously he was checking on me, but didn't want to say anything by text. I responded "Hey". My phone buzzed a minute later, "Meet me at the school baseball field?" I replied, "Be there in an hour" Jack looked nervous, really nervous, and instead of saying hello, I smiled meekly and confirmed "I'm alright". "Listen man, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I never should have....." He gushed. "Jack, I'm ok". I repeated. Then he continued, "But I never should have let that......left you....I'm sorry". Realizing I couldn't fix this for him, I admitted, "Yeah, maybe you need to figure that out for yourself and what that means for you. But Jack, in this instance you get a free pass. No foul." Recovering and relaxing a little, Jack asked, "Did he hurt you? Are you ok?" Answering honestly I told him "I'm ok Jack". "Yeah, but did he hurt you?" He re-asked. "Sure he did, that's what he wanted to do" I admitted. Fidgeting and seeming lost for words, he finally asked, "Why don't you do anything about it? Why do you let everyone do this shit to you? You never fight. You're gonna get hurt. You do get hurt!" They were all good questions and observations. "I don't do what everyone says, I'm just obedient to certain people" I clarified. "Being obedient feels good to me, amazing to me. I need it." I offered. "But the damage.... They can be brutal" he pointed out. I knew he couldn't understand, but it was not my job to explain it. Getting up to leave, I just said "It's worth it for me", and I walked off thinking that if Ash called me I'd probably show up to meet him.
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-32
Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2024 12:34:34 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 32 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 32 After cleaning all of the basement, I found Jason laying at Tack's feet, now asleep as Tack seemed to be enjoying his new slaves presence. I was happy for them both. "Do you think he's alright?" I asked. Your lack of answer made me wonder if you'd heard me, so asking again, I rephrased, "Do you think he's ok after what happened to him today?" Master Tack ignored my question, walking over to the bathroom. A minute later, he came back with the leather strap's he'd used to hang me from the ceiling beam a few weeks ago. "That bathroom is a mess faggot. You are worthless!" he barked. His anger still there, all I felt safe doing was apologizing, "I'm sorry I did a bad job Sir." Handling me much too harshly for the severity of the crime, he threw a few elbows into me as I hung there, me yelping with each blow. All I could do was apologize more. "I'm sorry Alpha Master Tack". Returning with a wide black belt he ripped my t-shirt off, and pulled my shorts and underwear down and over my feet as I hung there helpless. Jason began to stir as there was more noise in the room. He looked confused as he saw me there, and I think he was still not used to the intense physical nature of things today. Looking at me and then at Tack, he inquired with concern, "Master?" Using that word for the first time today. "I'm just taking care of some business boy" Tack responded, looking down at his boy Jason. "Do you have to Master?" he asked. "Come here" he ordered and Jason walked to his side and Tack pushed his tongue into his slaves mouth and took a piece of his heart and soul forever for himself. "Do you trust me?", he asked. "Of course Master" he replied. "If I say he needs to be punished, then what does he need?" He challenged his slave. "If you say he needs punishment, then he does Sir" Jason replied. "Go sit on the floor and wait for me boy." Tack said as he raised the belt and began to whip me. He was expelling his rage and I knew I was the conduit to release his anger, so I bared up and took it the best that I could for Tack and for Jason. The beating seemed like an eternity, but it probably went on for less than 2 minutes. I thought I would pass out at one point, but I didn't; I just wish I had. As soon as he was done, Tack released my hands and said, "Get out of my sight you worthless pig." I retreated to the area away from view, and laid on the floor. It was a hard day, a very hard day, but I think that it was definitely good for Tack and Jason, and I think Tack will have to deal with feelings he didn't know he had. `Is it fucked up that I still think Laith is so fucking HOTTT?' I asked myself as I drifted to sleep. Waking up on Sunday morning, Tack was already using Jason's mouth when I walked into the room, and when I tried to quietly turn and retreat, Tack directed me, "Don't run away bitch. I want you to watch. You see how hot my boy is? You see how much hotter he is than you?" he taunted. "Yes Sir" I replied, "Jason is in a class of his own" Master. Jason turned to make a face, questioning me for saying something less than humble about him, but I continued to enforced the truth. "Jason doesn't like me saying it Master, or admitting it himself, but he is a superior beauty and I am lucky to be his friend, just as I am lucky to serve you. You both far exceed my range". Master Tack knew I meant what I said, but Jason was not used to this kind of thinking and it was a big challenge for him to accept. "Sit in that chair and watch us you useless pig" Tack directed. I saw Jason get back to worshipping Tack's body, this time learning to eat out his pits and lick them clean, worship his steel pecs and abs and choke on his heroic cock. Tack's rare protective instincts came out when Jason positioned himself to be fucked by his Master, and Tack questioned whether he was ready. Jason begged to be fucked, saying it didn't matter how much it hurt, he needed it from his Master and couldn't live without it. Watching Tack's cock slice into Jason's hole, he cried out in pain, but he pleaded with his hands for Tack to keep coming, which he did. "I need it Daddy, please" he begged. "You need your man's big cock?" Tack questioned. "Oh yes please, please give it to me. Fuck me daddy, fuck me please", he whimpered and begged as his pussy got used to cock again. Tack did not disappoint as he again owned Jason, pounding his hole until Jason was practically howling from pleasure and pain, Tack getting in on some of the same extremes as his buddy Laith did the day before. All the while, his slave desperately hung onto him craving his body and to be owned by this fearless Alpha. It was like watching priceless art being made as these two pieces both fit together perfectly.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-28
Date: Fri, 8 Mar 2024 22:47:26 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 28 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 28 The digital clock on the table read 1:21. I had bared as much pain as I thought possible without making noise, but I felt like my arms would need to be amputated if I went much longer with them bound above my head. They were cold, throbbing and numb; and while I don't usually put myself first, I couldn't imagine being of great use to my Masters without working arms. "Master" I whispered. "Master Tack" I moaned. After a few minutes of moaning quietly, a small table lamp flicked on, bathing the large room in a weak yellow light. Tack was on his feet looking determined and ready, rather than bleary and confused. I was always perplexed by how strong Tack's will and performance was. "How do the arms feel faggot?" He asked. I simply moaned and whimpered to indicate my pain. Cutting me loose, my arms fell to my sides with almost no self-control as the muscles seemed to be working at 15% of normal now. Being so grateful, I followed my instincts and fell to the ground and began to kiss the tops of Master Tack's powerful feet as he stood there. He allowed that for maybe half a minute before he dragged me by my hair up to his groin and ran my face back and forth over his dirty jock again. The scent was powerful, and it weakened me as it washed through my senses. As I became more and more submissive breathing him in, he put his thumb into the waist band of his dirty jock, pulling it under his balls, and let his semi-hard cock flop out. Inserting the head into my mouth he stood there motionless, and I was happy that I had the experience to understand what was happening. I remained motionless, waiting, until his cock started to push out a heavy stream of his hot piss into my mouth and then down my throat into my stomach. I focused hard on just taking the flow, breathing through my nose, and swallowing. The worst thing you can do here is to choke, because then piss flies everywhere and your alpha usually is not happy. I knew I did a good job as Master Tack commented, "Good piss bucket boy." His motion became much more active as he began to pump my skull up and down on his cock getting it rigid and slick with my spit. His arms were consistent levers driving my head up and down on his pistoning torpedo as it got harder, and I could start to taste the pre he was manufacturing. I allowed my hands to feel the sides of his thighs, appreciating the striated muscles as I ran my hands over them, now both mentally and physically worshipping this total alpha stud. His pace increased a bit, but it was clear he was not intending his load for my throat when he pulled out and pushed me face down into the dirty carpet on the floor, my face mashed into the fibers as his smaller body covered and dominated my more muscled frame. He lined up his stud cock with my pussy so naturally before driving into me as a yelp escaped my lips. Sliding his arm to the side of my head and his hand over my mouth I was able to taste the salt of his skin as I licked his palm and he gagged my mouth. His fuck went from ambitious to punishing as he ramped his energy up and seemed intent on piledriving me through the floor. I realized how good it felt to be Master Tack's bitch boy, and straining through his hand covering my mouth I began to whisper. Tack finally dropped his hand to hear what I was saying. "Master Tack Sir, I love serving you Master and I love being your property Sir. Thank you for letting me be your faggot Sir." Growling into my ear as his body acted like a wave over me, fucking the life from me he replied, "You like this don't you faggot? You like being my bitch, don't ya?" "YES SIR, YES, I love being your bitch", I cried back quietly as his pounding persisted, and I could feel his sweat dropping on my back, neck and shoulders from behind. "You are amazing Sir. Thank you Sir." I added. "Yeah? How amazing am I bitch?" He inquired. "Nobody better" is all I could say as I felt him flip me onto my back and throw my legs over his shoulders. Now he was fucking me like a girl, staring down at me as my body was completely dominated by his own. Smirking he said, "Whose bitch are you?" And I babbled almost incoherently "I am your bitch Sir." He continued, "Who is your best Master?", and I paused despite my euphoria. He slammed harder, owning my hole deeper and repeated, "Who is you best Master, slut?" and it all poured out of me like a wave. "You are my strongest Master Sir, you are the most powerful and driven Sir. You own me Sir. I am yours Sir." "YEAH! YEAH!" he cheered, "Fuk yeah bitch, I am your top Alpha you pathetic whore." Absorbing the beating he was delivering to my hole I continued to praise his superiority above all others, and in the moment it felt completely honest and right. "You like when I own you, faggot! Don't you?", he declared. "I love when you own my body and mind Master, it is what I live for." I moaned as he slammed his last few thrusts into me, followed by a flood of his perfect seed as it washed through my guts. His sweat continuing to drip down in my face from above. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he pulled off of me there on the floor and tossed himself back on the couch. "Massage my back while I fall asleep bitch" he directed. Crawling to his side I put my hands on his hot pale skin and began to kneed the tight hard muscles of his shoulders, neck and back. "From now on, you are to call me `Alpha Master', not Master. Do you understand?" he explained. A flood of worries washed through me as he gave me the order, but I realized that this fight was not mine to navigate, my role was to be a good slave. My reply was faster this time. "Yes Alpha Master Tack" I said as I massaged him and he drifted to sleep. Over the next week and a half at Tack's house I cleaned and fixed up his room in the basement under his supervision until it was just as he liked it. I spent time learning his preferences, what he liked to eat, games he played and what his interests were. I learned that he was more than just an independent latch key kid, but that he had basically raised himself. His parents provided a home, but they were not involved or nurturing or like a typical family. Part of the reason he was involved in my takedown and wanted to be on the wrestling team so badly is because that was his way out, to college and something better. All of this made it easier for me to serve and make him happy, which I was getting better and better at. He explained that once I went to school, he expected me to be here, at his house at least one night a week to take care of him and his room. The big difference between Alpha Master Tack and Master Greg was that Tack never got attached or interested in me beyond the ways in which it benefitted him. He was much more like Laith in that respect. Neither of them felt that kind of emotion towards me, which is why I think I was so submissive and responsive to them. Before I left Tack's to head back to my parent's house, just a few days before I was moving into the city for college, I asked my Alpha Master if he was going to say anything to my other Masters about his new status as my Alpha Master. His reply was very direct and matter-of-fact. "Yeah, I'm gonna say something about it! Fuk bitch, i own what's mine. That's the difference with me" he decreed. Hearing him speak, I realized he had a lot more life experience than any other kids his age. He was 15 and already behaved like a real man. It was a part of him and his experiences that got him here and made him very different. "Gives me an idea" he said. Fishing for his phone, he pulled it out and said, "sit on the floor there fag." Pointing the phone at me and hitting record, he asked, "Slave, how was your time here with your new Master?" Looking into the camera, I answered "I had an amazing time here with my newest Master Tack. He is amazing and I am lucky to get to know and serve him." "Why is he amazing?" he asked in third person, as if he was an objective interviewer. Looking at the camera I replied, "Because he is so driven and courageous and strong. Tack can do anything and is not afraid of anything." Smirking from behind the camera, he asked "And what do you call your new Master?" Looking down for a second to gather my courage I looked into the lens and said, "I call him Alpha Master Tack". He followed with "And why is that?" Looking past the camera at my Alpha Master, I spoke to him rather than the camera this time. "Because you own me completely, down to my core. You dominate me better than anyone ever could." I admitted, and then I crawled over to him and started worshipping his feet while he captured it on his phone, before shutting it off and dropping the phone on the couch, and then he proceeded to rape me on the floor once again before sending me home.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-33
Date: Thu, 14 Mar 2024 05:26:51 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 33 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 33 The ride back to Boston was exhausting. Despite the extreme events, Jason had truly come alive, embracing his beta personality and his new Master. He sought answers to things I had no experience with. "You'll figure it out" I just kept saying as his energy matched that of a new puppy. Now out of yesterday's extreme scene, and with the objectivity distance provides, Jason ventured, "That was all amazing." he beamed. "Everything?" I questioned. Fumbling over his words a bit he admitted, "Laith is sooo intense........ but very HOT!" I chuckled, "Yeah, I know. I see that you liked that you pretty whore" I teased as he blushed. Then asking the question I asked myself yesterday, I inquired, "Do you think it's fucked up that we let him do that to us?" Comparing stories, Jason wanted to know, "Was he that rough with you before?", maybe hoping to win an award for the most brutal fuck-down by Laith. "Well, you got it pretty rough, but when he tied me to his bed, it was to prevent my survival responses because it felt like he was taking my life", I shared a little over dramatically. "Hey" Jason responded, "you don't have to clean my room when we get back. I won't say anything to MT" (MT was Jason's shorthand for Master Tack, especially in public places). "It was a direct order from MT for me to clean your room when we get back to school" I said. Wanting to stress the importance of what he was going through, I advised him, "Jason, don't ever disobey your Master. Not ever. If you can't do something, admit it and take the punishment, but N-E-V-E-R Lie, it will kill the relationship." Jason looked like he heard me. "Anyway", I continued, you are MT's #1 slave boy now and he is gonna take care of you, so using me to help you is gonna be part of my duty. I'm the lowest slave" I added. Jason rolled his eyes and you could tell he was overwhelmed with his whole new status as MT's boy. Looking a little sheepish, Jason inquired "But, did I screw things up between the two of you. Maybe you feel like I screwed up what you two had." Feeling like I saw things for what they really were today, versus my jealousy yesterday, I replied, "Nah, we never had what you two have" and Jason blushed. "I'm still finding what's right for me" I offered. We got to travel in silence a little while, until Jason excitedly wanted to relive the last day's events once more and ponder his future. Happy for Jason and his new relationship, I focused on school and expanding my social group; as he spends most weekends and one weeknight with MT. We still get to spend a lot of time together, and I still have my duties to him as one of MT's slaves, but they spend most of their time one on one. Sure, I miss that part of myself, my sexual submission to a superior man, but I keep busy with other things as I ride out this slow cycle. I also got most of my information about the Masters from Jason now, which was very little. Tack was keeping Laith away from Jason, so there was no news about him. I hadn't heard anything about Captain Greg either, until last weekend when Jason told me that MT commented that `he might be getting his balls back'. I had no idea what it meant, but it sounded like a good thing. Time passed fast as I got involved in wrestling club, and some other groups at school, and was getting through the load of studying necessary for classes. Before I knew it, we were into November and I was planning to go home for Thanksgiving break.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-40
Date: Mon, 8 Apr 2024 17:22:33 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 40 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 40 The high school wrestling party we went to for New Year's was totally lame. Of course Greg was not there, but i expected he'd be completely underground these days. Laith was there, and it was good to see him, even if he always treats me like a nuisance. He had no idea what was going on with Greg, as he'd just gotten back from France that afternoon, and Greg hadn't answered his calls. Ash was there for literally a hot five seconds before moving on to another party, but he did take a minute to stop and taunt me, which i appreciated. I wished him luck in prison before he left, and he laughed at me as he walked away. `Fuk he has some hot attitude' i thought to myself. The next day i received a text from Laith, and apparently so did Tack and Greg. `Meet at the gym at noon for some hoops. Be there! Back door will be open'. I thought, how the fuk do these guys get access to the gym, but then i thought of the coach that Laith and Greg subdued last year, and it made sense. Bax and I headed over from my house, as Tack and Jason came from Tack's, and Laith was already there when we arrived. When we got there, I introduced Bax to Laith. It seemed like there was already some history there, because Laith took Bax in very intently, and was super observant as if he was calculating something. I had no idea what it was, but there was something going on. There was no sign of Greg as we started playing, but after about 15 minutes Greg walked in looking a little different than usual. Not depressed or anything just foreign and a little lifeless. I smiled and tried to greet him pretty enthusiastically, but he was not having any of that. It wasn't long before Tack's temper got the better of him, and he started fouling Greg. Not one to let a slight go unreturned, he elbowed Tack right back, and so it progressed until the two of them were fighting on the basketball court floor. Laith pulled Jason and I back from interfering, knowing something had to be aired out between the two. What started as a pretty rough back and forth quickly turned into Tack being on top again, laying a beating on Greg as he once again got squashed by another alpha this week. I couldn't understand what had happened to him, but it was clear he lost his will. Just as Tack was about to do some real damage, Laith swooped in and pulled him off of Greg. Tack didn't want to let it go, but Laith was definitely the top dog of the group and he brought order. Greg just laid there on the ground, not moving, still in acceptance as he took the beating Tack had handed out. Laith stood at Greg's feet and he kicked them lightly with his own foot. "What do you want Greg?" he asked clearly in front of everyone. Greg continued to zone out on the floor looking lost. Frustrated, Tack yelled, "Bitch wants a beating and I'm gonna give it to him". Laith looked over his shoulder and focused on Tack. "My friend, you have no idea what he wants because you don't know the real story. Not even half of it." Turning back to Greg, he nudged his feet again and said "What do you want Greg?" Greg refused to speak. As he started to lift himself, Laith moved to the side and used his foot to press Greg's chest down to the floor. "You aren't going anywhere until you tell me what you want Greg?" Laith was subtle but ruthless as he worked Greg into another kind of submission. Now, putting one foot on each side of Greg's waist, standing over him he looked down and continued. to ask, "What do you want Greg?" Finally, as if his head was going to explode, Greg yelled, "I want you! OK! I want you! You satisfied?" I was surprised at how simultaneously Greg could be both angry and stoic, but he pulled it off. Now lowering himself to sit on Greg's abdomen, Laith directed Greg to "Say it again, but more respectfully this time." Greg whispered "I want you, ok? I admitted it. May i go now?" Smiling, Laith said "Absolutely not" as we all watched the shocker of a scene unfolding in front of us. Then, taking two fingers from his left hand, he slid them into Greg's mouth and sawed against Greg's lips with them. "Good boy" he whispered. Speaking clearly and calmly, Laith explained what we were witnessing. It's a puzzle that began in Marblehead in August. The two weeks they spent together involved more than friendship as Greg developed an irrepressible attraction to Laith. While he was there he learned to serve his best friend, offering both his service and his body to Laith in most every way possible. "I hate to break it to you Bax" Laith explained, "But the story I've been hearing is that you popped his cherry in Boston, but the truth is that was gone in August." he said. "The thing is that I hurt this guy right here. He thought i was throwing him away" he said pointing at Greg. "I was figuring some things out and you felt like I was getting rid of you, but i wasn't", Laith said smiling down at Greg. "Then as soon as we got back, shit went crazy. Greg fighting with Tack, then this shit with Ashley, and then going to U Mass and the thing with Bax and it was too much for you, wasn't it?" Laith asked Greg. Reinserting his fingers back into Greg's mouth, he made him suck them and showed us what had become of Greg. "The thing I need from you, well not all of you, just the guys, Tack and Bax, but what i need from you is help with my boy. See Melanie and I aren't breaking up. I'm not going full `mo', but my boy here needs me, don't ya?" Laith said laughing a little. Greg looked embarrassed, but he also looked content beneath Laith. Looking over his shoulder, he asked Tack, "You understand why this was about more than just the tension between the two of you?" Tack nodded. "He was trying to figure himself out and he was running into a lot of brick walls and dead ends" Laith suggested. "Yeah, i get it. No problem. But what is it you need?" Tack asked. "Greg here is a horny boy who needs more than i have time for, so i need you two to be my lieutenants." Greg began to speak, "No way man, I'm not gonna get fucked by Tack" Greg hollered. Laith laughed, Using his right arm to flex a single bicep over Greg as he sat on top of him. "What did you say boy" he questioned slowly as he worked that right bicep. "I can't do that, please don't", he begged, as we all watched in rapture at the unbelievable power transfer happening in front of us. "It will happen because it should happen." Laith calmly declared. "Tack is superior to you and you'll not only respect his alpha position, but you'll serve it. I think you're afraid that you will become too attached to serving Tack and won't be able to live without his cock. Tell me this, how many times in the last week have you jacked off thinking about how Tack humiliated you at the basketball courts?" Greg didn't answer as he laid beneath his new Master. "I think that says it all my boy." Standing up, he pulled Greg up by his arm, and looked him in the eye, then looked over some of the bruises Tack had given him, rubbed his thumb over a few of them, smiled and then began to tow Greg into the mat room. "C'mon men......and ladies" he announced. Once in the mat room Laith explained, "This is gonna be like orientation, or re-orientation depending on the person. I haven't had this hole since August so i'm going first, then Tack, then Bax. Sorry man, your cleanup today", he said looking at Bax. Greg began to protest a little about being passed around, but Laith ignored his words, simply picking him up and tossing him down on the mat and covering Greg's similar sized body with his own. Moving to straddle his chest he lowered his shorts, allowing Greg to slick his stick up as he began to choke Greg hard on his steel cock. It was an incredible sight witnessing the reorientation of two old friends from equals to Master & Servant. Not wasting much time in his throat as the whole experience had him already on his way, Laith slid down between Greg's legs and threw them over his shoulders, and looking down into Greg's soulful eyes now he commented, "Welcome to a new world boy" as he popped the head of his fuck stick into Greg's chute. Greg moaned deeply and painfully as Laith slid slowly but insistently to bury his cock to the pubes in Greg's tight ass. As Greg adjusted, Laith ramped up his pounding holding Greg's legs in a `V' shape as he used his ass like a cunt. "Please, please" Greg begged as his Master owned him in front of everyone. "Please what baby?" Laith asked. "Please, please ..... don't ever stop owning me Sir. I love you Sir." Hearing that, Laith smiled, "I know you do baby, i know" Both of their bodies built up a sheen of sweat as Laith's perspiration began to drip on Greg's body. As it looked as if Laith was fucking more intensely and getting close, Tack directed Jason, "Time to fluff me boy. Show me what a good whore you are." Dropping his shorts, Tack took a wide stance and Jason fell to his knees before his Master and swallowed his cock, getting it wet and hard. Laith was now pounding Greg harder into the mat with each thrust, beating Greg's body down and taking pleasure and power from him, while his own body flexed and strained totally dominating his boy as Greg's dick bobbed and spurted as it bounced against his hard abs while he looked up at his boss. "Who made you boy, tell me?" Laith asked. "You did Sir, i wanted you so bad that I would do anything to be yours Sir." Greg admitted. "You made me and you can destroy me. I belong to you in my soul Master" he cried as Laith entered the final throes of climax and began to cum in torrents up his boy's ass as he moaned gutturally, "take it, take that cum boy". As Laith slipped out of his boy's hole and backed away from him, Tack wasted no time in taking over. Straddling Greg, Tack sat on his new beta's chest and began to slap his face with his rigid cock. "Whose your Alpha, you bitch?", Tack demanded. Greg took the cock beating from Tack, but didn't answer as he was being subjugated in front of everyone. "Who turned your boy over there into my cock whore and made him want to pledge himself to me? Huh?" Tack questioned as he slapped G's face repeatedly with his rod. "Who showed you what a bitch you were at the basketball courts in the park, and then again here today? Who you worthless cunt? Tell me now?" Letting out a moan of submission, Greg began to confess, "You Sir. You are my superior, my alpha, my boss. You beat me down and now your gonna dick me down Sir" he cried out as his cock shot sprays of cum all over his abs and Tack's back as he straddled Greg's chest. Tack responded immediately, "FUKKKKKK you dirty whore, cumming all over without even touching yourself. Who do you want to use you? Beg me whore, beg me right now?" Greg was so desperate to finally be conquered by the man he had so many losing struggles with; that he begged sincerely, "You Master Tack, I want you to use me and control me, take your pleasure from me and completely consume me ....pleeeeeaassssse". With that, Tack flipped Greg over onto his stomach and laid his body on top of his new beta bitch, and moved his cock to the moist chute Laith had vacated. Lining up, he just pile drove his cock into Greg making him yelp through the first few strokes of his powerful cock, before he slid his arms underneath Greg's and putting him in a somewhat painful full nelson, as he continued to tear up Greg's hole for his own satisfaction. As he came closer and closer to climax, Tack tighten his wrestling hold causing more and more pain for his victim, and as Greg began to beg for mercy and tap for submission, Tack redoubled his efforts and began pumping his hot alpha cum into his beaten former foe. Needing a while to recover, Tack took a few minutes to dismount his slut. Looking like he was getting total leftovers, Bax took some of the lessons he'd learned earlier this week, to show his ownership of Greg in a different way than either Laith or Tack had. Bax whispered in my ear, go find me a chair and a ping pong paddle or something similar and bring it back to me now. Then stripping in front of everyone, Bax made a huge statement simply by exposing his statuesque body. Standing in front of Greg, he pointed to his foot and said "Start there and show me how well you can worship me slave?" Both happy to have Bax as a Master, and totally turned on by him, Greg began to devour Brian's body, tasting and becoming familiar with the taste of his sweat and skin, he moved from his feet to his legs and then to asshole, mining it out, cleaning it for this Stud to show his appreciation. He was just really getting into Bax's musky smell when Bax pulled him out of his ass and stood him up. Taking a seat in the chair i brought, Bax pulled Greg over his lap and tested the paddle on his tight butt. "How's that?" Bax asked. "Ok, i guess" Greg answered. Bax laughed as Greg didn't realize what he was being asked, and then he wound up and brought the paddle down hard across Greg's formerly virgin ass cheeks. "OOOOOWWWwwwwww. OOOOOOHHHHhhhhhhh." Greg screamed out as Bax repeatedly brought the paddle down on his ass until he had delivered fifteen brutal poundings. Now pausing, Bax lightly slid the paddle back and forth over Greg's ass cheeks and questioned, "Why didn't you tell me you were a slave when we met?" Taking a moment, Greg replied, "I didn't know that i felt that way then", to which Bax brutally delivered a paddle strike to Greg's right cheek. "You didn't know Greg? You can do better. Why?" Bax barked as he delivered another brutal strike to the opposite cheek and Greg yelped. "I guess I didn't want anyone else to know." Bax replied, "OK, better. And why didn't you want anyone else to know?" "Because i am in love with Laith and I'm afraid to lose him. I'm keeping up an appearance." "Good" Bax replied, then asked, "Why did you start that fight with Tack when you got back?" "Because he was taking my bitch." Greg answered angrily. Bax drove an extra hard slam into Greg's now tender ass as he let out another scream. "You just said you knew you were a slave a minute ago and you want me to believe you wanted to own a bitch?" Bax questioned as he delivered an additional blow to Greg's now fire red ass cheeks. "I don't know" Greg cried out, "i'm not sure", to which Bax unloaded five devastating impacts. Don't make me do this forever Greg. Tell everyone why you kept starting fights with Tack. "Ok, because i wanted his attention. I wanted him to hurt me or punish me or something" Greg tried to explain. "Did you want him to break you?" Bax asked, using the new word he'd learned this week. Shyly, Greg admitted, "Yeah. Plus Laith was right too." "How?" Bax pushed. "Because i was afraid that if anything happened between us i would become obsessed with him. There is something so unyielding about him that I feel powerless around him and i think he'd consume me, which i want but i'm also scared of. It's hard to explain." "Finally, why did you take me home with you and the other bitch greg when you met me on campus?" Bax asked. Greg was careful to try to figure it out, not wanting to feel the pain of the paddle anymore. "Because of the way you acted and moved and looked, you had the kind of confidence that makes a DOM, and i was hoping you were one and that i could get a little experience with the side of things i wanted more of." Processing, Brian asked, "Then why did you play the role of top? Even more so, why did you treat greg like a cuckold slave when that's your role as much as his?" Greg struggled knowing there was not redemption for this one, "I played the role because i always play the role, because that's what people expect and demand and i have to be that for them and i can't tell the truth." Now, Bax was brutal as he rained down a dozen more hard and fast blows to Greg's already bruised ass, punctuating the contacts by saying your lies just fuck with everyone around you and prevent you from ever being happy. Your fear is causing you to be a coward, and as the blows reached 8, then 9, then 10, Greg began to sob and apologize for not being honest, and as Bax pushed him off his lap and onto the floor, Greg looked up at Bax and begged for forgiveness. Seeing this vulnerable boy at his feet, Bax scooped him up, walked him over to the padded column in the center of the room, wrapping Greg's legs up against his chest, pushed his back against the pad and lined his now hard cock up against Greg's sore, swollen hole. As he slammed in, Greg howled as he was being penetrated. Bax got off on owning the new boy he had just molded and built, and he was taking him and owning him proudly as he handled him like a doll using his powerful body to dominate him completely. The more Greg moaned, the more Bax covered his mouth with his own lips and smothered Greg with his tongue. Bax's kisses had Greg churning over the top again and as Bax pinned him into the column and forced his mouth over Greg's, Greg shot another load onto his stomach and chest. The more Greg squirmed the tighter Bax held onto him and harder he fucked him. As he approached his own climax, Bax dropped Greg onto his back on the floor, evidencing Greg's second climax. Straddling Greg's chest, Bax began to jerk his heavy cock in Greg's face, aiming for his mouth, cheeks, eyes and nose. As he released his cum, he painted and plastered his new slut's face with his alpha seed. Then standing up, he dragged his foot across Greg's abs, picking up Greg's second load and then mixed it with his own load all over Greg's face as he mixed and smeared the seed all over him. Finally, his alpha instincts spiking, he chose to do a double bicep flex as he held his foot across the chest of his new broken prey.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-56
Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2024 02:12:04 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 56 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 56 Tack and Laith loaded Laith's VW convertible with everything they thought they'd need for the summer before hitting Interstate 93 North. Tack's parents seemed happy to send him off for the summer, as they were not highly involved in his life to begin with, and hardly spent any time at home regardless of whether he was there or not. Tack hated to admit it, but he was pretty excited about his summer away, though he was meticulous in maintaining his cool attitude about it. It was a sunny but cool day in June as the sprinted up the highway to the Shaw's summer place in Marblehead. Laith was excited to introduce Tack to boats this summer and share with him his passion for them. Tack had no expectations in general, but was feeling pretty high about everything in general. When they arrived, Laith's mom was in preparation mode, getting things opened and ready for the season. Tack and Laith had practiced their pitch for Tack taking the room above the garage for the summer because they were used to a lot of privacy at Tack's house, and they wanted to try to get some privacy here too. Laith's mom was welcoming and warm to Tack, but when they tried to sell her on Laith staying in the caretakers apartment, she just smiled before saying "Absolutely not. I want you both under this roof" as she pointed up. "If either of you need anything, put it on my list in the kitchen and I'll make sure Leonard picks it up this afternoon. And, if you boys could help him carry the outdoor tables from the garage this afternoon, I'd appreciate it. I want to have dinner outside tonight; inside is such a mess, and your father wants to barbecue. He should be here around 7, so plan on dinner at 8". Laith provided a litany of `Ok's', `sure's' and `yes mom's' in response to her directions. As they walked back to the car to get another load of stuff, Tack couldn't help but tease, "No wonder your such an obedient bitch, you've been trained." Tack and Laith had rooms next to each other, and shared a bathroom. Tack thought it was awesome that he could see the water and sailboats from his window. It all felt kind of crazy to him, this way of life that Laith and his family just assumed. Laith's father arrived late and dinner got pushed closer to 8:30, but having never met Tack before he wanted to talk to him before dinner as he had a drink and setup the barbecue. What sports did he play, what teams were his favorites, what classes did he prefer in school, were all on the list as Mr. Shaw got to know his son's `best friend'. And, whenever Tack's interests intersected with Mr. Shaw's, a long deep conversation ensued. Tack, being used to almost no parental interaction found it exhausting and exciting all at once. By the time they got up from the table outside at around 10:30, Tack's head was spinning and he was laughing to himself. He felt like he'd been on a game show all night. Really wanting to make Tack feel at home, Laith went to Tack's room to hang out instead of his own. They sat on his bed and talked about their new jobs that started on Monday. Laith loved to talk about all of the different types of boats they would see, work on and sail this summer. He was most excited about sharing that with Tack. Tack found it charming how excited his boy got when he shared his passion with him. The more time they spent talking, the more romantic Laith felt. Touching Tack's leg and dragging his fingertips along it, he moved to run his mouth over Tack's shirt, up his torso and to his neck where he tasted Tack's dried sweat with his tongue and made an "mmmmm" sound. Trying to inch his way up to get a kiss from Tack, Laith redirected his eager lips, "No way fag" You know that is reserved for very rare occasions. "You're getting all mushy and faggy on me. That's gotta stop.", he said as he dragged his shorts down and pushed Laith's mouth down to his cock. Moving at a leisurely pace he let Laith get his cock hard, which didn't take long, before he began to pump his rod into the back of Laith's throat. Just then there was a knock on the door, and Laith jumped back, Tack pulled his shorts back into position and Laith called out, "Yeah come in." Laith's dad appeared. "Just wanted to say goodnight, and welcome Tack. We're glad your here and hope you have a great summer. I'll be gone before you're up tomorrow, so you guys have a good day." he wished them both. Tack replied with a "thank you, I'm happy to be here." and Laith with a "Goodnight dad." As the door closed, Tack lowered his shorts, grabbed Laith's head and growled, time to get back to servicing me." Laith was in his element at the marina. Everything about watercrafts interested him, and while Tack was happy to learn about them, he was not nearly as interested in the countless details as Laith was. He thought it was hysterical how excited Laith and the other boat people around him got about sailing and all of the paraphernalia used to make a boat go. He'd tease Laith about it privately, usually to get a rise out of him which lead to him subduing Laith and fucking him. After the first week of work, Mr. Grant handed both Tack and Laith a small manilla envelope, and complimented them both, "It's nice to have such hard working and responsible young men at the marina this summer." Laith and Tack both thanked him as they put the envelopes in their pockets. When they got home, Tack followed Laith into his room and sat in the large wooden chair near his bed, watching Laith change into workout gear as he usually did, because they typically went to the gym after work. Tossing his pay envelope on the dresser, Tack observed the action and said, "Hand that to me." Smiling, Laith said, "What do you mean?" Looking serious, Tack said "that's mine, now give it to me boy." Tack's cold seriousness sent a chill down Laith's spine. As Laith retrieved the envelope, he wanted to explain, "In the summer, i try not to take any allowance and use what i make to pay my own way." Tack nodded and explained, "I'll pay your way as i see fit. You can earn allowance from me." "How?" Laith inquired. "Serving my needs" Tack answered without a smile. Laith felt himself getting mind-fucked hard, and he couldn't pretend he didn't like it. "What do i get paid the most for?" he asked. "Pornos" his Master answered quickly. "What is the most frequent task you'll need me to perform" Laith requested, hoping the answer was blow jobs. "Hand washing my underwear and jocks" was the surprise response that Laith didn't expect. "Really?" Laith asked seeming insulted. Stepping towards the chair, Laith said, "You really expect me to hand wash your dirty shorts?" Tack retorted, "That's all you're good for bitch." Gaining his courage Laith spat out "Fuck you" with a painful glare. Tack was on him in no time. Before he knew it, Laith was pinned to the floor, Tack's hand across his neck showing his inferior who wielded the power. As Laith choked, his dick got incredibly hard and he squirmed as Tack glared angrily into his eyes, and as soon as Tack let him breathe again he began to beg his Master, "Please fuck me, please Tack fuck me. Take my ass." Tack couldn't help but bite into Laith's neck, chewing on the perfectly formed muscle striations underneath Laith's silky smooth skin, and as Tack ripped off Laith's shorts and plunged his cock into Laith, he used his mouth to cover Laith's own, and his tongue to quench and stifle Laith's screams. As Tack began to pound his boy, Laith wrapped his legs around Tack's tight powerful waist and moaned and as Tack removed his lips from Laith's, Laith began to whisper to Tack, "Yours, all yours, always yours Master" as Tack slammed into him a last few powerful times making a huge deposit in his boy. As Tack dismounted, Laith remained hungry as he grabbed Tack by the foot and began to eat it worshipfully, rubbing his calf and working his way up Tack's body. Like a starved castaway his aggression surprised himself as well as Tack as he devoured Tack's body and pressed his face deep into Tack's ass and moaned consistently as his own dick leaked like a hose. Digging at his hole, Laith managed to get Tack hard again and this time Tack settled into a chair and a long slow blow job to rebuild his store of cum before Laith nursed it out of him, swallowing once again. As Laith kneeled between Tack's legs, he could see his slut needed something more, so using his foot he pressed Laith back onto the floor and onto his back so he was now looking up at his Master above him. Squatting to place his knee on the shaft of Laith's cock he extended his opposite foot back to stabilize his body and position, and as he lifted his arms into a double bicep pose it made Laith's Alpha boyfriend look like a God above him. As Tack worked his flex, and used his knee to dominate and batter Laith's cock below him, he instructed, "Look up and worship a man faggot. Look at me and see what you beg for and need to focus your life and give you purpose. Who is your Master boy?" As Laith began to babble praise, loyalty and servitude to his king, his dick throbbed and spasmed and dropped a huge load, all over his cut abs, causing Tack to smile and snicker, "All fuckin' mine." Shortly afterwards at the gym, Laith looked at himself in the mirror and saw the bruises Tack left on his neck and throat and while smiling thought `I'll have to keep these covered for a few day'. Laughing to Tack and motioning to the damage he created, he suggested, "we'd better go out for pizza tonight instead of dinner with the family."
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-38
Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2024 15:37:52 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 38 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 38 Preparing for finals and wrapping things up for the semester left very little time for anything between the period when Master G-Man left campus and the start of Christmas break. Master G and I spoke a little, mostly by text, but didn't see or spend any real time together over the next two weeks. I ran into Bax a few times, and he always presented with that same arrogant smirk that made me hardly enjoy his company. Just two days before we left campus, he mentioned something about what Greg said, suggesting they were still talking. I couldn't control my jealousy and started trying to get answers to the frequency and content of their conversations. No matter how i persisted, he purposely teased me and avoided my questions. `Fuk, what an asshole' i thought, along with `damn, he's hot.' I talked to Jason about spending New Year's back in Boston after being home for Christmas and he was going to try to arrange to do that. I gave him a huge hug and wished him a good holiday before I jumped on a train to head home. Settling into my room and being home for a few weeks for Christmas felt good. Just hanging out in the house with my family even felt alright. After dinner my parents and I talked and it was actually ok. It was a good re-entry into my old world. I went by Master G's later that night, excited to see him after missing him for a few weeks. He let me service him, but he was isolated and disengaged. I so wanted to ask him what was going on with Bax, but I was too afraid to question him. I was jealous, but I was also a coward when it came to him. There were only a few days left until Christmas, so i asked Master G if he wanted to go to the mall with me tomorrow to pick up a few things. "Sure fag, i'll go. I need a few things myself." he quipped. Smiling and feeling a little better already i asked, "Should i ask Master Laith if he wants to come too?" Greg sneered at me, but i wasn't sure why. Should I not have called him Master? Was there some rift between the two? Again I was afraid to ask. After a pause, he said, "Can't ask him you cunt, he's in Europe or some shit skiing for Christmas with his family" and shook his head disapprovingly at me. Something was definitely wrong. Tooling around the mall the following day, I got what gifts i needed and the activity there diluted Master G's grey mood, but I still couldn't ask the right question to get some idea of what he was unhappy about. I had this idea stuck in my head that his discontent all started when he was at U Mass visiting, but I also wondered about Bax, and whether he knew what was going on. Things weren't going too badly until we were sitting in the food court and Ash walked by. Seeing us at the last minute, he spun back towards us, looked down and made smooching sounds. Master G bounced to his feet, facing Ash, ready for whatever. Ash laughed and pushed him back a little. "Don't get upset boys. I didn't mean to disturb you making plans for your big fat gay wedding." Greg's face was now getting red. Seething, he warned "I kicked your ass once, Ash. I'm not afraid to do it again." Ash really laughed out loud now, retorting "You punched me out when i was too drunk to fight you fag. I'd kill you eight days a week you pussy." Greg's defenses heightened, he couldn't resist taunting, "Not the way it looked to me, while you were laying on the lawn submitting like a girl". Now it was Ash who was getting angrier, his face showing the pressure. "You know what" Ash challenged, "Tomorrow at the high school gym. Wrestling room at 1:00! Be there or I'll come looking for you" He challenged. "Use the back entrance by the soccer field. The door will be open..... and bring this faggot with you", he said pointing at me. "You'll need someone to take you to the hospital after" he teased before walking away. Greg said nothing, just taking it all in without any clear signs of how he felt about it. I knew I couldn't say anything, or ask any questions yet, because he was way too unhappy about everything. I figured he'd take my head off if i did. The ride home in the car was deadly quiet. When i pulled in front of his house, i was still too nervous to ask him about what was going on or what he was going to do about tomorrow. Opening the door and getting out, all he said was "later". I was on pins and needles all night, barely sleeping as my mind raced but went nowhere. my phone dinged with a text at 8:15, and it simply said, `pick me up at 12:30'. I was still too scared to ask questions, so i just responded with a simple `yes sir'. Pulling up to Master G-Man's house i just waited in the driveway until he was ready to come out. Exiting the front door he looked serious but hollow. Wearing light grey sweat pants with the same color hoodie they washed out his color making his skin look almost white. As he got in the car and we were headed for the school, i just asked "What do you need me to do Master?" It didn't take long for him to respond, "Nothing faggot, just sit there like a cuckold while the men do their thing faggot". I hung my head a bit and whispered "yes Sir". Walking into the obviously empty school through the back entrance, i had a quick flashback of the first time Laith raped me while i was chained to the locker room bench about a year ago. My dick jerked a little in my jeans as i thought about what he did to me that day. Opening the door to the wrestling room, i was surprised and confused to see not only Ash there, but Tack also. My immediate reaction was that i was happy to see him, but that was quickly followed by confusion. Master G immediately asked what i was wondering, "And what are you here for Tack?" he asked with a guarded tone. I could see a vulnerability in my master as he asked, and i could tell he was feeling overwhelmed. Tack smirked, but it was Ash who was quick to answer. "He's here to protect you from me going too far" Ash said with a smug tone. "Jack wasn't available" he continued with a laugh, "He finds me too....... dominant" i think, Ash said smiling and winking directly at me. Now Greg was getting anxious, "OK, lets get started" he barked. Nobody cares about your personal life ASS-LEY" he mispronounced. Then, Greg pulled off his sweats to uncover his tight physique in a training singlet, my knees wobbled a little as i took in his form. At the same time, Ash began to strip naked, not in an enormous hurry, showing off his size and musculature as he stripped down to nothing. Pulling a jock and a singlet from his gym bag laying on the ground, he held up the jock for a moment, considering it, before tossing it back down to the floor and choosing just to pull an old worn singlet up over his striated muscles. As his cock swung before being covered by the singlet, my mind went back to that night in the woods when he used that club to make me cry from both pain and passion. "Rules?" Greg inquired. "No" Ash replied. The fact that they were in the mat room of the local high school in regulation wrestling gear made it feel safer to me. This wasn't a street fight with knives, just some jocks blowing off steam I reasoned. As they circled and locked up, Ash had the weight advantage pushing Greg back easily, but then Greg slid behind him using the momentum to drive Ash down to the mat face first. Greg rode him for a moment before being thrown off. Up and circling again, Ash went in and with a lift, ended up throwing Greg up and away, and as he landed on his back you could hear his lungs empty. Ash was not rushing in though for a follow up move however. He was going slowly, giving Greg all the time he needed. Up and circling for a third time, Ash grabbed Greg, lifting him in his arms at the crotch and shoulders and then slamming forward, driving Greg to the ground with his chest coming down on top of Greg's literally squashing him. Again, moving slowly, Ash took his time, getting up. He took time to Drive his knee into Greg's chest as he kneeled over him and decided to flex, wanting to humiliate Greg a little bit. Pretending to be a little weaker than he actually was, Greg bided his time and when the opportunity was there he decided to drive his elbow up into Ash's unprotected nuts hanging above him. It wasn't a regulation move, but really, there were no regulations for today, and Greg was up against a few inches and 30 pounds more muscle than he had himself. As Ash fell to his side, Greg jumped up and straddled his chest, putting him on his back while he threw a few forearms into the side of Ash's head and a dozen fists into his abs. Ash seemed to be absorbing the ab onslaught while he shook off the forearms to his head, but then he exploded up from his back, and Greg was tossed to his side as Ash mounted G-Man, and I thought for sure he'd throw some punches to knock him out. To my surprise, he didn't move to debilitate Greg, just to wound. Trapping his arms, he began to break down his core. He beat his abs and then his pecs with his powerful fists until Greg was visibly struggling. Then, picking him up, he threw him back down to the mat in a humbling display. As he manhandled him, Greg struggled to fight back but was not effective at all. My heart was breaking for him, and as i peered to the other side of the mats, i saw Tack smiling and filming the entire scene on his phone. After a few minutes of slapping Greg around, he laid him up in a figure four headlock and just rode him mercilessly, not trying to choke him out, but just to bust his self-confidence and occupy his brain. At one point he had Tack come up close and film as he flexed his arms while lying back on the mat, squeezing Greg's neck as he gurgled. Deciding finally to up the attack, Ash put Greg in a body scissors and squeezed so tightly that Greg could no longer fight, but as he submitted verbally and physically by tapping Ash's leg, Ash continued to pulse his muscles looser and tighter punishing him beyond what he could take. It was nearly impossible to watch, and as i got to my feet, deciding if it was time to help, Tack stood up at the other end of the mats and pointed downwards, letting me know to sit back down or he'd make me pay. I was forced to settle into watching Ashley torment Greg for another 15 minute, as Greg had nothing left. When Ash was finally satisfied with punishing and making Greg submit, he stood, walked to his gym bag and fished out something shiny. As he walked back towards Greg, i saw the object unwind and realized they were handcuffs. Greg was not completely out of it, but he was not ready or able to fight, however as he saw the handcuffs a wave of emergency energy overcame him and he began to move himself up and away from Ash. Ash hustled in, grabbing Greg by the wrist and began to drag Greg towards the bleachers. Greg was using his legs to kick at Ash, knowing if he allowed himself to be immobilized it was all over for him. Ash absorbed a few kicks before grabbing Greg by the neck and drawing his right fist back, threatening to punch him through the floor if he kicked him again. Then, Ash lashed Greg's wrist with one side of the handcuffs and fastened the other side to the bleachers. Now Ash was moving towards me. I froze for an instant until i realized that in fact he was coming for me and i jumped up both afraid to run and leave Greg, but also afraid to stay. Ash barked, "You move faggot, and I'll destroy you". I waited for my fate. Ash fisted a handful of my hair and dragged me over a few feet in front of G-Man, who was now chained to the bleachers, and he pushed me to my knees in front of him. Looking down at me he prepared me for his questions by telling me, "If you hesitate to answer a question i ask you or fail to respond honestly to any challenge i give you, i will beat your little boyfriend here senseless. Do you understand me faggot?!" I gulped, shook my head affirmatively and answered, "Yes Sir". Just so you know what I'm talking about, let me show you. He left me there, walked over to Greg on the floor next to the bleachers and dragging him up by the neck, laid an open handed bitch slap across his face that laid him out on the floor and left Ash's big handprint on his cheek. Then, assuming his place standing in front of me, he looked down and began. "Did you like when i raped you in the woods that night fag?" I know i was supposed to be fast, but it seemed i just hesitated for a second and he was on Greg again, delivering another blistering bitch slap. I begged "No, please i'm sorry. I'm sorry". All he replied with was "Faster". Then he repeated, "Did you like when i raped you in the woods that night fag?" Yes Sir, yes, i liked it Sir." i blurted out. "And why?" he continued. "Because you controlled and owned me Sir, and that felt so good." i responded. "What did you like best?" he asked. "When you sent Jack away, when you made him leave." i replied. "And why did you like that?" he asked. "Because when you did that you were saying this isn't for the faint of heart. You were being the alpha, staking your claim, and i wanted you to do that Sir." Ash laughed, "You are a true faggot cunt". Now looking at Greg, Ash asked G-Man, "Is this faggot really yours? You want this pathetic whore?" In his pain Greg was solemn as he nodded, "He's my slave." Shaking his head, Ash indicated, "Well not for much longer." Then Ash proceeded with a different approach to destruction. "Fag, tell me you don't think I'm totally fucking hot, and I won't rape you." He stared at me as i said nothing. "Ok" he continued, "Tell me you didn't love me raping you against your will in the woods while you cried, and i won't do it again." Again, he stared at me and i began to hang my head. Reaching down he grabbed my chin, pulled it up and said, don't you dare faggot. You look me in the eyes you piece of shit. "Did you like me raping you in the woods against your will while you cried?" "Yes Sir" i answered. "Tell me you didn't think about me doing that to you, and that you didn't get off to that 100 times, and I won't rape you again." he said. I stared at him silently again. Pulling the shoulder straps of his singlet down exposing his torso, he continued, "Tell me my body isn't the stuff of your fantasies. Tell me you don't dream of being under me. Tell me you don't think of me constantly you fuckin' sissy." Looking at him this time, i answered, I can't deny anything you said Sir". "Well fag, you know what that means then, right? Get up and take your clothes off." As I stood, i looked over at Greg, who groaned, "NO" through his pain. As Ash moved to neutralize Greg, i jumped in front of him and immediately begged, "Please Sir, please, take it out on me, not him. PLEASE!" Ash smirked and directed, "out of your clothes now." As i undressed, i made it a point not to look over at Greg again. It was too painful. I got on all fours, and tried to prepare myself for Ash. Now completely naked, his cock like a flagpole, Ash came from behind me and pulled me up to my feet, moved me towards the bleachers in front of Greg and bent me over. I put my hands on the bleachers in front of me. "Lets do this just like last time" he explained. From my position I was looking down into Greg's eyes as he looked up at me. He murmured the words, "No, MINE" as Ash plunged his cock into my ass and i screamed out loud as he bottomed out in my hole. He bludgeoned my cunt as i cried and i don't know how long it went on for but it felt like an hour as his intensity never abated. He seemed to love telling me "You will forever be a damaged bitch, and i will always be in your head. Forever you cunt, I'll own a piece of you." All i could do was affirm, "Yes Sir". Then he asked me "Do you like this?" and it is hard to believe that i could, but i answered "Yes i love it" through my tears and screams. Then he wanted to know "Why do i like it so much?" All i could do was truthfully say that he was a super-hot alpha male and that i loved worshipping him because it gave me purpose, and that he deserved for all fags like me to always worship and please him. Finally, when he was done with me, and after he filled my cunt with his precious man seed, he pushed me off of him and on top of Greg on the ground. He Returned to his bag on the floor, and i watched Ash put his clothes back on, find the keys for his handcuffs and then return to the bleachers to release Greg from his bonds. Taking a look back at Tack, he asked, "Wanna get a burger?" and they walked out together. I tried to get up and help Greg as well. He was 100% silent though, and his stare was completely blank. He dressed and began to leave the building by the back door. i chased after him, but he ignored me, walking in the opposite direction of the car. Refusing to discuss what had happened, i had no option but to let him go and just wait for what would happen next.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-34
Date: Thu, 14 Mar 2024 05:27:42 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 34 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 34 I heard there was a party held by one of the wrestlers at his house on the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving. I knew it would be ok if I stopped by, because graduates always came to these things when they were home for the summer or holidays, but I was concerned that it could be a minefield for me. I settled in at home, but by 10:00 it was completely boring and I decided to take a walk over to the wrestler's house that was hosting it and just `walk by' to see what was going on. Approaching the house, I could hear yelling coming from the front yard. It looked like the party was taking place on the front lawn as it was packed out there. Approaching from across the street, I paused as I realized that wasn't a party, it was the start of a fight that must have begun inside and was now in the front yard. Getting closer I was amazed to see it was my Master Greg facing off against the much bigger Ashley. They hadn't begun to fight yet, but Greg had a bruise on his face which must have just happened before they moved outside to face off. I felt bad that Master Greg had to fight this guy who had probably four inches and 25 pounds on him, but I guessed Greg had worked it through in his head and this was something he had to do, even if he was gonna get crushed. They each threw a few punches, but neither connected, until Greg charged him spearing his body with his shoulder and driving both of them to the ground, Greg landing on top. Throwing a left and a right to Ashleys head, he connected before Ashley swung back hitting Greg's jaw and throwing him off. Greg rolled to the side, looking rocked by the punch and Ashley was quick to his feet, pulling Greg up. Holding him there he drove a few hard punches into Greg's abs, folding him up and knocking the wind out of him, before pushing him over as more of a humiliating move than an offensive one. Deciding to punish Greg a little, Ashley wound up his leg once and kicked Greg in the ribs, to which the crowd gasped and Greg groaned loudly. Deciding he liked that, he repeated the process, but this time when he connected, Greg grabbed his leg, twisted and hung on, bringing Ash down to the ground. Ash mounted Greg fast and threw a few jabs at Greg's head, seeming to do some damage. It wasn't looking to good for my old Master, but then Greg bridged explosively, slamming a fist into Ashley's abs as they separated. Then as they were both on their knees getting up, Greg used his forearm to drive up into Ashley's chin snapping his head back and knocking him down to the grass. Taking his turn on top, Greg barked out, "This isn't over yet bitch" and moving fast he wasted no time in mounting Ashley's chest, and proceeded to slam lefts and right into the side of his head like a wild animal making Ashley nearly incoherent. Greg getting off the chest of his dazed and confused enemy, slid his legs around Ashley's neck, pulling his face towards his groin and wrapping his right knee over his left ankle, he locked in a brutal choke. As Ashley came back to reality, he found himself in the humiliating position of being choked out in Master Greg's crotch, being practically forced to eat his dick. His anger still boiling, when Ash was coherent enough to realize what was happening, Greg slammed another fist into Ash's face from his superior position, dazing him further. This time as he gained awareness, Greg proceeded to humiliate him in front of the crowd as he held his oxygen and consciousness in his hands. "Tell everyone you are a bitch" he demanded. Ashley seemed to come alive, thrashing wildly under Greg, to which Greg just leaned back, straightened his body and amped up the pressure by a factor of two or three until Ash started tapping frantically on Greg's thigh. "Let's try this again. Tell everyone what you are bitch." He said proudly. Ash had tears in his eyes and would not relent, so Greg balled up his fingers into a fist and pulled back his arm, to which Ash cried out, "OK, OK, I'm a bitch he moaned." Smiling now, Greg wanted to prolong the scene. "Tell me again, I can't hear you well" He reduced Ash to a crying babbling mess before letting his neck loose. Then as he stood, pulling Ash to his knees in front of him, he growled, "And don't ever touch my property again". Then, he wound up for one last knockout punch on the bitch he just created.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-54
Date: Fri, 19 Apr 2024 00:05:52 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 54 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 54 Jason must have had his dorm room loaded with video cameras for our 3-way. By midnight the evidence was out. Jason had leaked videos of me with the words `FAGGOT g' written across my chest in red marker, begging to be used, admitting my whorishness, uselessness and weakness while seemingly enjoying being pounded senseless by a hot cock. The videos were edited to prevent Bax and Jason from being seen, while i was front and center identifiable in every frame. The clips went out to the most devastating of contacts, including my family, classmates from high school and college, teachers and friends. I was done, Jason had broken me. i found out at around 1:00 AM as the information started hitting my feeds. i went numb seeing the news that was made available for the world to spread about me. I got dressed and went to Jason's room, and trying the door I found it was unlocked. Walking in I saw Bax laying on the bed while Jason rubbed and massaged my Master's body and attended to him as he happily accepted the attention. I was beyond anger. I wondered if they had any remorse. "Did you plan this?" I asked my Master Bax. Smiling and hesitating, Bax explained, "No, i didn't plan it, but after you left Jason showed me the film and expressed his interest in being my #1 slave. He had a plan. I agree with him." I held back tears but inside i was crying as Bax stood up walked to me and told me to assume a position on my knees before him. "See" Bax continued, "You are below a slave. Jason will need your help to serve me and you will be part of my stable. Jason will be your master, and i am your master of course too." Huffing a breath, I questioned, "You expect me to serve you and him? After what you did? Why?" Replying, Bax continued to tutor me, "I don't expect it, I demand it. From now on you are our servant, our whore, our pig." "What about the fallout?", i spat in exasperation. "I'll be thrown out of school" i cried. "You won't be thrown out of school. It's a sex tape not a bomb, and this is U Mass, not Dartmouth", Bax said trying to cut a little deeper. You are going to deal with the fallout, and more importantly you will be my property and continue to serve both of us. It's what you want, isn't it?" Bax asked me staring intently into my eyes as i kneeled next to him. Looking up, i nodded in agreement. "Yes Master, i got everything that i deserve Sir, and i want everything that is happening to me Sir." Smirking, Bax replied, "Good." Then looking over to Jason, he said, "Come piss in your slave's mouth." Jason seemed to be navigating this in between world pretty well as he pulled up in front of me, lowered his jock, set his cock head on my tongue and proceeded to pour his piss down my throat while i gobbled it up. Finally sending me back to my room, Bax said "this summer you'll be spending most of it with me on Long Island. It'll be good for you to get away from the people you know for a while." I nodded in agreement. Before I walked back to my room, Bax advised, "You have a lot of cleanup to do this week, so get to work on it faggot." Then he sat down next to Jason, as Jason reached hungrily for his body, attending to his new Master again. Calls started pouring in the next morning. The first was from Tack and Laith demanding, "What the fuck happened to you? Was Jason involved?" I explained what had happened and told them I knew something weird was happening with Jason, and i called Greg to find out, but got no answer. Both of them acknowledged that Greg has been pretty out-of-it and reclusive lately. I told them i was going to call them after what happened last night, but the video was out before i even had a chance. Their first response was to fight, sue and destroy. I calmed them down first, and then explained that I'd already agreed to be a slave to both Bax and Jason, and to be part of Bax's slave stable. Both of them were in shock and thought I was crazy. Well, at least Tack did. I let them know that i really needed to pursue this, at least for now and that as bad as it seemed, I needed to do it and i could survive it. I wished them well, thinking for a moment that i might never talk to them again. I wish i could say the other calls, especially the one with my parents went well, but they didn't. Ash did text though, saying `Welcome to your new world homo. See you soon.' I simply responded, `thanks'.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-41
Date: Wed, 10 Apr 2024 03:23:35 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 41 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 41 It was January 5th, and i suppose news travels fast in small groups, because people seemed to have knowledge of Greg's new situation among his friends. If i had to guess, I'd say Tack spread the word. Sure he'd forgiven Greg mostly, and he was now one of his Masters, but i think he still wanted to make it hurt. He wanted to leave a hot brand on Greg, letting him know what was what. The squash video of Greg getting ruined by Ash had spread around outside our group, and that seemed to set up everyone for what came next, which was that Greg is a sub. Plus, there would be no downside to Tack for spreading the word. An unfamiliar text popped up on Greg's phone from a local number. "I'm leaving town in two days fag." Greg was immediately anxious and didn't want to respond without knowing who it was. He hoped it was a non-threatening friend, but it was unlikely given the unknown number. Entering the number into google, Greg tightened as he saw the number come up as the property of `A. Dexter'. `Fuk, what does Ash want?', Greg questioned himself. Pretending he wasn't surprised, he texted back, `What do you want Ash?' A minute passed `I heard about your sexual repositioning and only have two days left'. Ash texted and followed it with an evil emoji. `Fuk off Ash' was Greg's reply. Finally his phone rang from the same number and Greg picked up, not saying anything as he held it to his ear. Coming at Greg with a calm low growl, Ash said, "Pussy you aren't gonna say no to me ever again. I have the video from the gym. The uncut version that includes your girlfriend of the same faggot name! Plus, there is one thing that i know for sure. While i was railing your bitch buddy girlfriend i could tell, you were jealous of him. Saw it in your eyes cunt. Be in the locker room at 10:00 tomorrow morning." and then the call disconnected. Greg was actually shaken now that he had a more fully formed gauge of Ash and his power. Greg opened the door to the locker room at 9:50 the next morning and walked in. Flipping on the lights, he made his way to a bench nearby and sat, trying to think clearly. At 10:15 Ash walked in, strutting over to Greg with a huge smirk on his face, using his large hands to paw his powerful torso, practically feeling himself up, he intimidated and scrambled Greg's brains. "I knew you'd be here because not only don't you want the tape with you getting devastated on the mats to get out there, but you also don't want your boyfriends porno tape floating around the web either. And of course, there is this" he said grabbing his sizable package and rubbing his hand over it. Ignoring that, Greg asked for Ash to answer one question. "What is it cum dump?" Ash inquired, "Where did you hear the story about what happened to me the other day?" Chuckling, Ash taunted, "You fucking know who! Why would you ask pussy? You have a lot of paying to do." Greg hung his head. "Is he ever gonna forgive me or at least let up on me, or is he planning on completely destroying me?" Ash laughed, "Well let's ask him." "TACK" come on in here Ash yelled. From around the corner Tack walked into the main area of the locker room and moved to stand in front of Greg. He delivered a brutal bitch slap across Greg's face sending him off the bench and onto the floor. Dragging him back up by the hair, Tack pulled his head back and hocked up a loogie, spitting it in the center of Greg's face. "I'm thinking that's a pretty clear answer cunt breath. Be ready to be destroyed" Ash offered with a smile. Greg, now kneeling in front of Tack, looked up and asked Tack, "Is there anything i can do to save myself Sir?" Looking down at his pitiful foe, Tack explained, "You're useless to me if you are completely destroyed, but until you leave town for college, your life will be hell cunt". Feeling left out, Ash pulled Greg up from his knees by his shirt collar and literally tore his shirt into shreds as he stripped him of it. Ash's body contained such power, that it was awesome to witness up close. Ash may have been physically more powerful than Tack, but it seemed like Tack still retained some creative control because he set this whole thing up. Looking down at Tack, Ash questioned, "So how are we gonna do this?" Tack walked to the opposing benches, setup his camera using boxes to create a makeshift stand, and presumably set the phone to video record. Coming back, he took a profile pose for the camera, pulled Greg to him by the neck and unleashed a series of power punches to his abs until he was on the floor. Pulling him up again, he proceeded to do the same thing until Greg was on the floor again. Realizing that Greg could not sustain Tack's attack on his body, Tack instructed Ash, "hold him up for me". If a snapshot were taken, it would look like a big guy was holding a medium sized guy so that a small guy could take revenge, but that was not the truth. What was actually happening was that the big guy was helping to hold up the medium sized guy because the medium sized guy could not sustain the beating he was taking from the small guy, so that was the only way to prolong the beating. And that is exactly what Tack wanted to do as he unleashed on Greg's abs, sides and chest for at least 10 minutes as Ash held him up like a lifeless dummy. Finally when Tack gave the word, Ash dropped him and he slumped to the tile like a bag of garbage. Next, Tack began to strip. Compared to Ash, and even Greg, while Tack's body was muscular and ripped, it was uniquely more lean, even skinny, compared to the two more aesthetically muscular jocks he stood next to. Tack's real power however came from his presence and the sheer commitment and confidence he embodied to himself and whatever he was determined to do. In any group he was a part of, Tack was always one of the key power players. He and Laith were very similar in that regard, but for very different reasons. Ash stripped along with Tack, which left Greg on the floor still wearing his jeans, boots and socks. The two stripped him in moments after they were both naked, but Greg still required some help to move after being beaten the way he was. Ash pulled him up to his feet, and Tack smirked, "Now lets put this bitch through her paces" to which Ash laughed. Keeping Greg on his feet. and lining up in front of the camera, Tack bent him at a 90 degree angle at the waist, and to make sure he couldn't buck or thrash from Ash's big punishing dick, Tack positioned the back of his legs on the top of Greg's shoulders and while standing, Tack wrapped his legs around Greg's neck and crossed his ankles, locking him in a standing headlock. Standing in front of the camera, Tack looked like he had a huge ball sack as Greg's head was locked between the smaller man's legs right below his dick. "Tell me when you're ready" Tack requested. Then taking a few seconds to prepare, Ash indicated, "Ready to go", to which Tack did a powerful double bicep pose for the camera, and Ash plunged his cunt basher into Greg's hole making him scream horribly. Reaching down to grab his jock from the floor and a sweat sock, Tack shoved the grungy jock into Greg's mouth and used the sock like a set of reigns to hold it in while he pulled back on the sock dragging Greg's head up and into his crotch. On the camera it looked as if Tack was riding a wild horse that was jumping and whineying uncontrollably. as he sat atop it smiling. "Fuck yeah, this pussy is TIGHT" Ash hollered out, and Tack raised his hand up and bent it backwards to high five Ash on the win. Ash was fucking ruthlessly, taking some time to vary his pace occasionally to draw the punishment and pleasure out, until he felt his nut approaching. As he increased his power Tack released the headlock and stepped away, letting Ash use and handle Greg like an old rag. If Ash hadn't held him at the waist, he would have most certainly collapsed, as his mouth hung open and all screams ceased to arise from his throat. He just hung there , his head jerking with each thrust as Ash's powerful pelvis slammed Greg's ass cheeks until he was just gurgling and being used like a melon for Ash's climax. With a few final thrusts and a loud bellow, Ash unloaded into his inferior former teammate before pulling out and letting him collapse to the floor. "YES! YEAH! WOO HOOO!" he screamed. "Never broke a bitch like this in my life. WOW! .......... I'm gonna go take a shower man, unless you need me of course." Tack smirked, "Glad you enjoyed it, get lost" As Ash entered the showers, Tack reached down and grabbed a fistful of Greg's hair and dragged him across the floor towards the bench the camera was on. Turning the camera 90 degrees, he positioned it to shoot down the long wooden bench. Laying Greg face down straddling the bench, he put his face about two feet from the camera so it was capturing his face close up, and showed his body laying face down on the wooden plank. Coming in from behind, Tack laid atop his conquered enemy and pulled his head back forcing him to stare into the camera. "Tell me boy, what do you want?" Tack teased. "Say it boy. Tell me what you need." he demanded calmly and consistently, repeating himself until Greg began to sob. "I want you to break me Master. Please show me my place and punish me", he cried. "I Need you Master, I need you to completely own and consume me", he begged knowing that it wouldn't stop the immediate pain, but it was the only way he would survive the next year, by becoming Tack's property. Smiling wildly, Tack lifted his ass and than drove his hard cock brutally down and into Greg as he screamed again for the camera, but this time Tack did not try to squelch the screams, they fueled him as they echoed through the empty locker room as he worked ruthlessly to both own and decimate his former teammate and friend, and recorded it for everyone to see. After pushing a dozen huge volleys of cum into Greg's pussy, Tack joined his friend in the shower. Before leaving, Greg still immobile on the bench, Tack stooped down looking eye to eye with Greg. "Nobody hears about this! Do you understand?" Tack asked. "Yes Master" was Greg's labored response. "Wouldn't want this information to get out there", he said, glancing at his cell. "Hey man" Ash suggested, "Let's get a burger".
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/circle-gang-bullies/
Nifty Archive: young-friends/circle-gang-bullies ™ Have a Nifty Day SizeDateFilename 6K Jul 28 09:34 circle-gang-bullies-3 3K Jun 12 17:37 circle-gang-bullies-2 6K May 19 12:51 circle-gang-bullies-1
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-37
Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2024 15:36:48 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - Chapter 37 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 37 Life had become a rollercoaster since Thanksgiving break. I was on a high with Master Greg as I thought about him, lusted for him, texted him, sexted him and he consumed almost all of my waking consciousness as well as my dreams. School was also intense during this three week period before winter finals, and days were hectic and exciting, and looking forward to the holidays and Christmas break made everything seem do-able. After a week back on campus i had arranged to have Master Greg spend the weekend there. Jason was going to Alpha Master Tack's house and i was able to use his single, so that made things much more intimate and private. Master Greg was coming on Saturday and i was unsure of what to plan. It was exciting for me to have him here and i could tell he was looking forward to experience what college life might be like. I finally decided that a campus party i'd heard about was the right place to start and i figured we could play it by ear from there. The place was packed and it was festive. Everyone was feeling the upcoming holiday vibe and feeling good. I got us both a drink when we arrived and was happy to just bask in the warmth of being with my Master. A few of my new friends stopped by to say hey, but i knew they really just wanted to find out who the eye candy was, and i was happy to introduce them. Master G didn't want to dance, and i could understand his feelings. He hadn't yet experienced college and how freeing it could be, and I figured maybe he wasn't used to that kind of outward expression; but i also thought that he might not think of me in that kind of romantic way. I wasn't sure, but the whole thing started to make me feel anxious. Then unexpectedly, Brian Baxter (Bax) was standing in front of me, eyeing my master and smirking at me, just dying for an intro. Bax was an OK guy that Jason and I had befriended early in the semester. Most likely because he was gay, and I'm ashamed to admit that a big part of our fast friendship with him was probably because he had a smoking hot body and sexy face. Bax knew enough about Jason and my history to know we were both seeing guys from my home town, but he didn't know about our deep DOM/sub relationships. While we were friends, Jason and I both found Bax to be insincere, often arrogant, and manipulative and we didn't go out of our way to spend time with him as we got to know him better. Bax was a little smaller than me in height and bulk, but bigger than Master G-Man. His body was crazy ripped with hard angular slabs of muscle mounted on his frame in a way that made him seem endlessly sexual in any situation. He had dark brown hair and a mischievous smirk that made him look sexy when i first met him, but that attraction had since worn off. He was overly interested in my Stud and before long he had engaged Master Greg in a deep conversation wanting to know everything about him and even our relationship. The drinks had probably loosened Greg up a bit, because he was smiling and offering a lot more information than I would have to this intrusive guest in our evening. As Bax continued mining for information, I got our drink order and went back to get us three. The drinks line was long at this point and moving slow. It was over half an hour by the time I returned to where I'd left the man i was enslaved to and his new fan. When i reached the spot where we'd been, they were gone, but as i spun around focusing on the details, I picked them up leaning in a corner looking way too cozy. As i approached, I could see Bax's hands all over my Stud below his waist. Master Greg had a goofy smile on his face and i could tell he was buzzed from the booze and high from the attention of a hot college boy. As I handed them their drinks, Master G took his while Bax gave me a sideways look acknowledging the glass and smirked, "thanks" and then moved immediately in to push his lips against Master G-Man's and began to share his tongue and grind Master's body with his own. It looked too familiar for a first kiss, and they were both a little flushed, so i assumed this had been going on since i left. I disliked Brian Baxter, but admired his intensity in going after what he wanted. As their kiss broke, Bax whined a little "Pllleeeeeease Greg" and my Master nodded his head in agreement. "Ok faggot" he said looking at me, "c'mon we're going back to the dorm." I was really surprised that he called me faggot in such a public place, but i also assumed the drinks made it easier, plus I assumed that Bax had uncovered some of that detail in his explorations with Master G and Greg was now showing off. I followed them back as Bax was all over my Master as we made our way back to Jason's single room. It wasn't long before Bax was pressing full on, dragging Greg's clothes off, admiring his heroic body and paying homage to it with his lips, tongue and fingers. Greg was soaking up the attention while i assumed my role as a useless cuckold. As Bax slid to his knees, undoing Master G's belt and sliding his pants low, he buried his face in Greg's boxer briefs and nuzzled him. Greg pulled Bax's shirt up over his head exposing his molded superhero torso. As Greg reached down and pawed Bax's ripped muscled pecs, Bax's hands slid up and ran across Greg's hard body as he drug his face over the bulge in Greg's briefs. The entire scene was obscenely hot, and watching me descend into mush at the sight of it, G-Man pointed to a chair and ordered, "Just sit there and watch us faggot", to which i immediately obeyed. As they undressed each other and explored each other, Greg's natural dominance took over and he set the pace and direction, using Bax's body to serve himself. He moved his face from his groin to his ass, having Bax show his lust for whatever Greg was going to do to him. Bax seemed totally open to any demand Greg made, and i assumed that was in part due to the fact that he knew he was besting me by proving himself more desirable than I was to my Master. He was flexing his superiority and forcing me to watch him take what was mine. Greg not only fucked his face, but choked him hard on his cock, but Bax was undeterred and served like a champ, even managing to tongue Master G's ass deeply as my hero moaned and gasped, "Bax, oh yeah, that's it Brian. Fuck, you are so much hotter than my bitch over there." I didn't believe Bax was better at eating my master's ass, but i knew that he was certainly much sexier than I. It wasn't long before Bax was on all fours like a dog, Greg fisting a handful of his hair, tugging his neck back as he railed him hard with his powerful cock, driving it into him as he submitted his body to my master, and i watched myself be replaced by a superior specimen. "You see this faggot?" he spat at me. "You like me drawing in all the hot boys and using them while you watch us bitch?" That question hung in the air as Bax moaned as he got fucked and i rubbed my caged and worthless dick as i sat in the chair. The fuck was athletic, but Master G was not unleashing his brutality on Bax. I assumed he had no real green light from him that he was into that, though it was clear that they both liked lording their advantages over me and that Bax could handle it rough. As Master G-Man pummeled his ass in a frenzy, his head finally kicked back in that familiar way and i knew he was unloading in Bax as he moaned from the pounding he was taking. "Fuk, yeahhhhh, FUKKKKKK. My cum in you, it's in you Bax, it's in you" he gasped as he collapsed on Bax's back for a moment, pushing him down til his chest was flat on the bed and they laid there for a minute. Standing up, Greg summoned me, "Over here slave! Crawl to me and clean my cock. Make yourself useful whore." I leaned forward, moving to my knees and crawled to my Master in front of Bax. "Thank you Master" I acknowledged, trying to show off my own value a bit in front of the evil Bax. He proceeded to slap my face with his softening cock as he asked, "You missing my cock and body tonight slave?" he inquired with a heartless grin. "Yessss" i whimpered before he slid his cock into my mouth and said, "Clean it up bitch. This is all you are getting this weekend as long as i have this hot boy around" He said glancing at Bax. "I don't need you faggot." I gently cleaned my Master before he pushed me off of him and dropped onto the bed next to Bax. Not being one to worry about other's sexual needs, Master G-Man didn't realize Bax was hungry for some reciprocation. Eying my master, he hinted "Soooo....... what about this" as he gestured his hand towards his unserved cock. Chuckling, Greg suggested, "My faggot has a great throat and a velvet chute. I'd suggest using those. Bax had a short-lived moment of disappointment, but that soon seem replaced with possibilities that intrigued him. Possibilities of using and humbling me i was guessing. "Faggot, here!" Master G-Man ordered as he snapped his fingers. "Knees bitch. Worship!" he commanded. I moved to Bax's feet and started to drop soft kisses on my Alpha's new sex interest. Bax looked enthralled, asking "So you guys don't have a normal relationship i'm guessing." Greg chuckled again, offering, "Normal is overrated. This bitch is my slave, pure and simple." "Can I?" Bax asked tentatively. "Strip queer" Greg ordered. Bax choked as he saw my chastity cage eclipsing my manhood. "Turn" Master G-Man ordered, forcing me to display my tattoos indicating his ownership and mastery over me. I could see the wheels turning in Bax's head as he calculated what this meant. "Back to your knees" my master barked, before looking at Bax and indicating, "He's all yours for an hour". Then, he hopped up, pulled on his jeans a sweatshirt and sneakers and said, "Back in an hour, have fun." As Greg left, Bax understood that this turned the tables for us permanently. He realized he'd always have the advantage over me and could force my compliance to anything going forward. A new dynamic was permanently formed. "I need to get off greg" he instructed me. I knew he had no idea of the possibilities available to him, but i did. I began by using my tongue, and traveling from his feet up his legs, then i moved to his ass and devoured it like a hungry animal. His construction and the fitness of his body really was amazing as i ran my hands over it and observed his physical superiority. He moaned for me, "ohhhh greg , FUK that feels good." His ass tasted amazing as Master Greg's seed still dripped from it. I wanted to see how far i could drive him by worshipping his ass, so i redoubled my efforts, burying my face in it. He may have never thought of it, but i wanted to show him that for this moment he could be the alpha. With me, he could be in charge, but i was unsure if that was in him or not. I observed all of his smug, condescending and sometimes petty behaviors, but i didn't know if they were hiding pure inferiority or if there was an alpha inside. I thought that if i eat his ass until he just cums on the floor, i'll have my answer, but i was ecstatic when my worship empowered him to pull my head from his ass. Pushing me to the bed he lifted my legs up, tossed them over his shoulders, rolling my body up under his worship-worthy torso. Sliding his leaking but otherwise dry and rock-solid cock up between my ass cheeks, he looked down at me and slammed his cock into my pussy and made my scream. Reacting fast, he moved his right hand to cover my mouth, and i saw a smirk build on his face as he started to increase his onslaught. I realized he wanted to see how much he could make me scream into his hand, and i was happy to be able to be his bitch for him in this moment. I was happy to lick and worship the palm of his hand that was smothering me in between my yelps of pain, i was happy to have my legs pinned by his lean powerful body and look up into his eyes acceptingly, and finally i was happy to take his precious seed into my fag chute and have a part of him inside of me. "Clean me" he said, after pulling out and resting for a second. I was still on my knees showing him my respect when the door opened and Jason walked in, having come back early from his weekend with Tack. "Holy shit" he blurted as he paused, not knowing whether to come or go. Bax was much faster than me, feeling far more courageous than i'd thought, "Jason, don't go" he said. "greg is just cleaning the shit off of my dick since i just pounded his cunt" he bragged. "Huh" Jason mumbled. "What about GREG?", he questioned. "Oh, yeah", Bax answered, "GREG gave the bitch to me for an hour, he'll be back soon." I could see Jason figuring this out too, knowing this would change the dynamic between all of us, especially Bax and I; and we'd both have to put up with a lot more of Bax's demands and unpleasant behaviors. No sooner did Jason close the door, then it opened again with the return of Master Greg. "Hey Bitch, your back early" Master G greeted Jason. Returning the greeting, Jason simply greeted Master G with a "Sir". Now, raising his eyebrows, Bax inquired of Master G-Man, "Is this one a slave too?" Chuckling yet again, Master-G laid it out. "They are both slaves, whores and pigs man. They both serve superiors because they are both pussies. That's the story." Then Master G, probably still flying from his popularity high on a college campus moved in on Jason, pushing up against him and pawing at his chiseled torso. He seemed like he was looking to either dominate Jason sexually or flex his mastery hard in front of Bax. "Nooo. No, Sir. Please Sir...... Tack" Jason pleaded and then pushed Master Greg off of him. It was hard to watch because i felt bad for Jason being put in that situation. He was different than me, more loyal and committed. He didn't just go to any powerful alpha that demanded him like i do, his heart was the decision maker. I also felt bad for Master G-Man being rebuffed. Things wrapped up quickly and a little bitterly from there, as Master Greg threw his stuff together. When i offered to walk him to the train, i was completely surprised when Bax jumped in and said, "No, I'm gonna walk him down." Looking at Master-G for a decision, he simply looked at me and replied, "You heard the man faggot". Then, Bax and Master G exited, leaving Jason and I behind.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-43
Date: Thu, 11 Apr 2024 23:52:36 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 43 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 43 Jason and I were walking back from an off-campus drinks party on Thursday night, still so cold in the beginning of February, both of us feeling loose and happy. Getting nostalgic for a moment, i mentioned how i missed Greg, the old Greg; his attitude and especially his cock and the way it felt in my mouth. Jason giggled, "Well i think he's giving them exclusively these days, not getting them." Being a little surprised at his coldness i asked, "Do you think he'll get back to his old self?" "Nope" Jason answered with another giggle. I shook off my light headedness getting frustrated now and i pressed, "And why not?" Jason sighed and told me, "Tack isn't gonna let that happen. He wants to keep him like he is........ or lower", Jason offered. "What do you mean lower?" Jason finally realized his buzz was effecting his judgement. "What do you mean?" i pressed. "It doesn't matter", Jason said sounding frustrated, "Greg is done." Anger spiking, my playing with Jason was done, pressing him up against the tree behind him, i locked my forearm up under his chin and pushed hard, scaring him. "Tell me!" i hollered, scaring him more. Jason grabbed at my arm, looking for some relief as I eased my choke on him. "It's just what they all decided" Jason offered, trying not to make it all about his Master. I pushed in again, hard this time, not relenting. I was either gonna get an answer, or choke him to death. "OK" he gasped. "What's going on?" i demanded. "He's getting passed around the wrestling team like you did...... but more". I gulped, "What's more?" Without remorse or feeling, Jason described, "After practice everyone gets blow jobs from him, even the freshmen. Sometimes they bring in well ......... more pathetic students who aren't on the team, and he blows them too. Everyone knows. He's a goner", Jason said coldly. Drawing back my right arm, I slammed my fist into his midsection and Jason fell to the ground, my head on fire now. As I turned to storm away, I could here Jason call to me, "I'll tell you from experience, he gives a good blow job." I thought about going back, but i was afraid of what i would do to him if i did, so i went back to my room and tried to make sense of anything that was going on. I didn't sleep all night. The next day I received a text from Bax, `President's day this Monday, we have a long weekend, you're coming home with me to Long Island today.' I replied, `I appreciate it, promised my mom I'd help with something. Leaving here Friday and I'll be back Sunday night if you want to do something then.' `Not a request you fucking bitch, let your family know now. Tell them you are going to L.I. with your best friend Bax. Use those words in your text. Send me a screenshot of your messages as confirmation queer. Don't make me hurt you.' I read Bax's text a few times. It seemed extreme and made me a little nervous. I also wondered if this could have anything to do with what happened last night. I had no idea if i was being paranoid, but of course i was obedient to my Master and sent confirmation of me postponing my visit home to go to L.I. with my `Best friend Bax'. The next day we left campus after morning classes, and boarded an Amtrak to Penn Station. The ride was more normal than I expected after the upsetting sounding texts we exchanged that morning. He told me his parents were out of town this weekend, which made me a little surprised why we were going, but i didn't think too much about it. I did manage to tell him about my altercation with Jason last night. He seemed amused that i punched Jason, and asked about that, but he seemed to have little knowledge of anything going on with Greg. When i asked him about what happened on the Masters' weekend down at Tack's house, he played it down like it was nothing but some DOM/sub fun. When I asked if they were trying to destroy Greg, he said no, he wanted everything he was getting. At Penn Station we transferred to the Port Jefferson line of the LIRR on our way to Northport. Arriving at our station, it was dark wet and cold, though not as freezing as Boston. On the ride to his house we drove through what seemed to be your standard upscale suburban town. Arriving at the Baxter's house, the uber driver let us out and i made sure to tip him on my app before he left. Walking into the house, we dropped our bags in the front hall and Bax moved from room to room turning some lights on. I waited for him in the living room, smiling as he approached me, so happy to be with my hot as hell Master. As he approached he hauled off and bitch slapped me hard across the face and i fell to the floor. He dragged me up to my feet and pushed at me, backing me into the wall, but i was not hearing what he was saying even though i could see his lips move. My head was spinning and he was suddenly enraged and i felt like i was in real trouble. Still temporarily deaf, I pushed him off of me using all of my strength and he stumbled back, charging into me again with a forearm to my chest i crumpled a little and as i bent over he locked his arm around my head, holding it between his bicep and his powerful oblique muscle. Fearing him now, i tried to lift us both up, figuring if i could get him off of his feet i could charge in any direction and maybe hit something and break loose. As i began to lift him, his alternate fist came under to uppercut into my face, he struck me but i powered through, but the second punch hit my throat instead of my face. My body went limp and fell to the floor, except for my head, which stayed pinned under his arm as i gasped and coughed. I don't know what happened for the next for seconds, but now i was on my back and Bax was straddling my chest yelling at me. Suddenly i could hear again. "Whaaat?" i said so slowly i sounded drunk. Bax stood and dragged me by the hair to a set of steps off of the kitchen and led me down the stairs into a large sparse basement. Depositing me on the floor in the middle of the room, he ordered me, "Strip cunt, and don't leave this spot." He walked back up the stairs and in a minute he was back with the travel bag he'd taken with him on the train. By now i was naked and i was getting my breath back finally. Bax approached, pulling a collar out of the bag, he slid it around my neck, and using a small padlock he locked the collar around my neck. Throwing a thick nylon strap over a large steel pipe overhead, he threaded one end of the strap through a sleeve in the other side and hooked the loose end to the collar on my neck with another larger padlock. I was scared and confused and did not understand Bax's motivation for anything he was doing. I could feel the emotions building but i willed myself not to show weakness, not in front of him, not now. 'What did i do wrong?' i kept asking myself. The whole time i still knew i wanted to make things right with my Bax, but i was totally lost. Turning away from me he scavenged around the basement for a minute. I could feel the cool air on my naked body and i started to shiver. Returning a minute later he carried what looked like an old worn out dog bed and a dirty old blanket. He threw them on the ground in front of me, picked up the clothes i had taken off, turned and walked away. As he got to the top of the steps, he flipped the light switch off and closed the door. I laid on the old bed and covered myself with the blanket and began to sob quietly. I must have fallen asleep at some point, but the bright lights turning on suddenly woke me. I could tell from the small, high-mounted windows in the basement that it was still the middle of the night, but i had no idea what time it was. I had acclimated to the cold but as i sat up the blanket fell off and i shivered again. Carrying a stainless steel bowl filled with water, Bax set it down in front of me. I knew better than to lift it and drink from it, and i was so thirsty, so i kneeled in front of the bowl and lapped up the water like i was Bax's dog. Pulling a stool over, he sat waiting for me to quench my thirst. I sat back on the dog bed and looked up at him with sadness, but no longer feeling broken. "Do you really have no idea what you did?" he asked. Not wanting to misunderstand his point of view, i tried to layout the events that could have angered him to review them myself and look for a clue from his expression. "Well, i learned from Jason that the Master's are using Greg pretty hard, maybe even destroying him. I got upset. I forced Jason to say more than he wanted to, and when he did, I didn't like his attitude and I punched Jason." I heard myself saying these words trying to find the obvious error in my ways, but i wasn't sure which thing or things he was really mad about. "If you make me guess, I figure you are mad at me for punching Jason." i suggested. "Tell me faggot", my master questioned, "Why did you get so mad at Jason? Think before you answer." I composed my reasons, "He was completely cold towards Greg's situation. He acted like he was happy to see it happen to Greg. He acted so arrogant and self-important, like being Tack's slave made him special." Shaking his head affirmatively, he asked "in your first two reason's who is the center of the discussion? And, in your last reason, who is the person of importance?" I reviewed mid reason's and said, "Greg is the person we're talking about in the first two. In the last reason, the person of importance is Tack". Nodding now, Bax continued, "And what have you been doing for the last few weeks regarding Greg?" Thinking, i answered quickly, "Trying to figure out what's going on with him?" Pondering, Bax asked, "What's the pattern here?" I reviewed the information a few times and hung my head and whispered, "Greg". "And who are you mad at right now?" he asked "Well, Jason, i guess" i said. "And what was Jason doing? Who was he supporting?" I hung my head even lower this time as i answered, "his Master". Standing up and pacing, Bax explained, "You are more concerned about Greg than you are your Master? Isn't that right?" I sighed, "Ok, yes i have been Sir." "And, you are questioning your Masters' judgement regarding what we are doing to him, right?" I mumbled, "Yes Master". "Do you know who your Master is?", he challenged. "Yes Sir" I barked, "My Master is Master Bax and i am his slave SIR." i yelled. "And what was Jason doing that made you so mad?" I thought on how to word this before answering, "He was supporting his master and taking pride in being his slave." Finally, Bax questioned, "And shouldn't he feel that being Tack's slave makes him special?" I nodded, "Of course he should." "You are admitting your worthlessness as a slave" Bax observed. "I told you that I am a 1940's kind of guy and i expect deference and obedience. And, while my interests and desires have grown a lot darker since then, i still demand your absolute servitude and attention" he said, marching to me, yanking me head back by my hair and spitting into my face. This was serious i realized. He was questioning my fitness as his property. He made it clear that having my own mind, ideas and direction was getting me in trouble. Just like they did with Master Greg last year. Instead of trusting, following and supporting, i was setting my own agenda. The only good part about this for me, is that Master Bax was actually saying he did in fact want me as his property, and i never had this level of confirmation on that before. "Master, what can i do, or what can i endure for you that will prove to you that i can change, and that i want....... no, no that i need to be your slave? Is there something?" Smirking now, Bax advised, "That's what we're here to find out." Pulling the straps that Tack has used to tie me to the beam in his basement, he secured them to my wrists and tossed another short rope over the steel pipe overhead. I realized then that Tack had knowledge of just what was going on here if Bax was using his equipment. He attached the rope to each strap hanging me there from the pipe. Next, he pulled a leather strap from the bag, and without ceremony he walked behind me and began to rain down blows against my back and my ass as i howled wildly, screaming "OOOOOhhhhhhhh, AAAAHHHHhhhhhhh, OOOOWwwwwwwwww". My mind overloading, I couldn't make sense in my head so I just kept repeating, "Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Yes Sir" in between ragged howls. Stepping in front, he brought the strap across my chest and abs as he stared me in the eyes, humbling me for my lack of loyalty and servitude to him. "Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Yes Sir", i babbled. "What's that?" he asked as i babbled along. Lifting my chin he looked in my eyes, "What does `Yes Sir' mean fag?" he challenged me. Gathering my strength and trying to look strong, I responded, "It means please change me, fix me, break me so i will always be yours, so that i will always obey you and call you Master. Please, i need you Sir." Bax just smirked, stepped back, spread his powerful feet and continued to whip my body with his strap. Feeling like i could collapse at any moment, Master Bax paused his punishment and disconnected my wrists so i was now only being held by my collar. Falling to the concrete floor i laid there, the cold surface feeling good on my beaten skin. Lowering his pants and fishing out his cock, Master Bax aimed it at my face and began to piss on my face, hair and then all over my body. Then, pulling his pants up he climbed the stair and turned out the lights. My skin was red hot, but not broken. I managed to fall asleep on the dog bed, under the dirty blanket eventually. I realized the sun had come up but looked away, choosing to sleep as long as i could. The lights turned on and i sat up. Descending the stairs, Bax carried two breakfast sandwiches, one still wrapped in paper. Seeing that my bowl was empty, he set his sandwiches down lowered his zipper, fished out his cock and pissed in my bowl, filling it half way. "Drink up bitch" he laughed. Wanting to make him happy, i fought hesitation and aggressively began to lap up and swallow his hot piss. When i was done, he walked hovering over me and instructed, "Head back. Mouth open." He spit his chewed food into my mouth. I swished it around so that i could taste him more than i wanted the food, though i needed the nourishment too. He did that several times until he was halfway through the second sandwich and then he turned, climbed the stairs, turned out the lights and closed the door. I got several more hours of sleep, and i assumed it might be late afternoon by now, but i wasn't sure. Master Bax came down and placed a small flat screen on the floor nearby, but just out of my range. He turned it on and it showed a still of the upstairs living room. There must have been a camera there broadcasting live to the television he'd just set up. Leaving me there with the television on, i saw him pass in front of it a few times before disappearing. When he returned he looked fresh wearing a tight pair of jeans and a form fitting thermal long sleeve and an old school design pair of Nike runners. Within minutes the doorbell rang and Bax welcomed what looked like a 25 year old guy wearing jeans and a hoodie into the living room. He had short blonde hair, a nervous but genuine smile, and a body-builder's frame. The clothes couldn't hide his highly muscled body as his jeans pulled tight on his large quads. When he took off his hoodie, his pecs, shoulders and arm stretched the t-shirt he was wearing. Bax looked only about 2/3rds the size of this guy as they stood next to each other. Bax motioned for the guy to remove his t-shirt, which he anxiously did putting his amazingly well-muscled frame on display. Pointing at his jeans, the big muscle boy hustled to get his boots and tight pants off, almost tripping in his excitement. Standing there in obscenely tight pale blue boxer briefs, i could see Bax's guest was embarrassed. "Flex for me boy" Bax ordered, and the muscled hunk began to go through a set of poses he knew well. Bax smiled appreciating how much his new friend wanted to please him and be appreciated. Next Tack pulled his own shirt off revealing his perfect aesthetically muscled torso. The guy's face melted as he took Bax in from his sexy face to his honed chiseled physique. Flexing his right arm, and then lifting that elbow to the ceiling, Bax showed the hot ripped muscles across his torso, his bulging bicep and his hot moist pit. The muscle boy whimpered as Bax posed and with a smirk, my Master invited his new friend in by telling him, "Taste my sweat". The muscle stud buried his face into Bax's pit, lapping up his scent and sweat and flavor, he feasted on the extraordinary specimen that he outweighed, knowing that all of his muscle could not compare to Bax's perfection. Pointing down to the floor Bax instructed him, "Take my shoes off" "Socks." he instructed next. Sitting back on the sofa, he pointed to the floor in front of him and his new muscle sub kneeled where he was told. Extending his bare foot his boy immediately began licking and kissing the sole of Brian Baxter's exceptional feet. Bax was enjoying this boy's submission, but I could see he was not trying to punish him, just allow him to be his bitch for a while. "Take my pants off." he said a bit sternly and the muscle boy stripped him of his pants, and asked, "Can i please take your boxers off too?" Bax smirked, "You want to take them off? How come?" Muscle boy moaned, "Oh god please let me take them off. I wanna take your cock in my mouth and swallow it, please." Bax laughed, "That makes you a slutty little whore, doesn't it?" The muscle boy shook his head in agreement. "No whore, you gotta say it..... But first hand me my jeans." Bax fished his phone from his jeans and pointed it at the gentle blond muscle boy. "Tell me you're a whore if you wanna suck my cock he said." The boy looked frozen into the camera, too afraid to speak. Bax knew he needed encouragement. He lifted a foot and ran his toes over the boy's face. "Tell me you're my cock whore if you want to taste it." Bax decided to just film and wait for the weaker man to collapse as he teased him with his body, rubbing his crotch with his hand and using his feet to slap the boy's face. "I'm your cock whore he whispered." Bax smiled, "That was good, but just one more time a little louder", he said encouragingly. The muscled sub repeated himself more loudly and Bax gave him the go ahead. Stripping him of his boxers, the heavily muscled sub inhaled Bax's cock, taking it completely to the root and doing something with his throat that seemed to send Bax over the top as he would clamp down on the back of the muscle boy's head and hold him impaled on his cock. As Bax became familiar with his throat, he seemed to want to humiliate his boy a bit by holding and directing him by the ears, using his head like a fleshlight. "Yeah slut, that's it. Take my alpha cock boy, you want that, don't you boy. Take Daddy's cock you slut." It seemed like he was giving Bax an exceptional blowjob as Bax was already at a frenzy rather quickly. Pulling out and standing, he positioned his boy on the stone coffee table in the middle of the seating area, putting him on all fours. Yanking his briefs down he laid his chest on his big boy's muscled back and whispered into his ear, "Do you want it?" The boy just moaned. "You have to tell me you want it?" "Please fuck me" the boy asked. "I think you can do better." Bax chided him. "Ohhhh Gaawwwdd, he moaned, please fuck me with your cock, please i need you to fuck my hole, please Sir, please" the boy groaned and Bax pushed the head of his cock into his boy's hole, and barely gave him a minute to adjust before sliding it all the way in and bottoming out in the muscle slut's pussy. After a few full penetrations, Bax set a pace that built as he was standing behind his brave young boy, the boy taking the pounding as Bax heroically asserted his dominance and conquered his mind and body. Grabbing the boy's short hair as well as he could, he pulled back on his head like he was riding a stallion. Sweat built on both of them, but Bax's powerful fucking was causing his body to sweat and drip all over the boy as he progressed to slamming his rigid club into the boy's tight pussy until he squealed and Bax unloaded as he continued to pound at the boy's hole until he emptied himself. Collapsing on the boy's back, the boy remained still and solid giving his alpha time to recover. About an hour after the boy left, Bax came back down, a content smile on his face. "So cunt, what did you think?" Groaning, i admitted, "I'm jealous. But he is a better man and you deserve the best Sir. I am so jealous and horny and i want to serve you Sir." Bax laughed, "You're a fucking mess faggot. So, you're job isn't to be a better man, your job is to be a better slave. you aren't a man." Getting the straps he moved to attach them to my wrists and as he got near he stepped back. "Faggot, you wreak. I'm not even touching you fucking pig." He retrieved the leather belt and began to whip me while i laid on the ground. I tried to stay still, but i continued moving until i was at the end of my leash and i could go no farther, and once he had me there he beat me down for a few minutes before unzipping his pants and pissing all over my body. The sun had gone down by now and he walked back upstairs and shut the lights off. The next morning he returned downstairs with a pail and dish soap. Filling the bucket with warm water and soap, he handed me a sponge and said start washing. He attached a hose to the spigot on the wall and started spraying me as i washed myself with the warm sudsy water. The water from the hose was freezing, but the water from the bucket made it bearable while i cleaned the dirt and stench off of myself.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-47
Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2024 08:23:07 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 47 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 47 The next day i awoke in the cage sleeping next to Greg. My dick was rigid hard in it's chastity cage as my body touched his, and i felt so comfortable being near his familiar scent. I reminded myself constantly that he wasn't the same man now. He always seemed to be in a catatonic trance since Jason destroyed him on Tack's behalf. That seemed to have pushed him over the edge. He was a true slave now, but i still yearned to comfort him and show him my affection, even if friendship was all there would be between us. I could hear Tack and Jason in a long discussion from my position in the corner behind the couch. I knew it had to do with Laith stopping over, and details of how much and when, but i couldn't figure out when or how much of what. I don't think Greg was alert enough at this point to hear anything as Jason had him up all night wrecking his holes. After being let out of the cage, Tack pulled me aside and said, "I need your help filming today. Remember how you filmed Laith and i fucking Jason that first day, i need something like that" he explained. "Are there other details i need to know" i inquired. "Yeah" he continued. "Laith really wants me to fuck him and if i get it on tape, i can enjoy it afterwards, ya know?", he explained. I listened, reluctantly believing his simple story, and suggested, "I am happy to help you, so if there is something you want my help with you can count on me. I know i could never replace Jason, but i want to be your trustworthy servant, Master." With a positive tone, he confided, "OK, so there may be a little ecstasy involved, just enough to get him horny and take down the defenses, but nothing to anesthetize him. He wants it, i know it, but he has to be in the right mood. Laith is wicked strong, and if he were to fight it, i'm not assured of winning", he admitted. "Well, not unless i help you Sir", i said with a smirk. "Faggot, absolutely not" he spat. I may destroy Laith, but I'm not gonna win by cheating. I just want to get down to the real boy under the man. "Can i ask a question", i inquired. "Go", said Tack. "Why do you have Laith's track pants?" i questioned. He laughed hard, you'll find out fag, just wait. About an hour later, there was a knock on the side door. I answered and found Master Laith looking amazing in a pair of wool hunting pants, black boots, a thermal shirt and a puffer jacket, and of course he was wearing a pair of oh so slick designer sunglasses that made him look even more like a movie star than he normally did. "Fag" he greeted me. "Master Laith" I replied, kneeling to kiss the tops of his leather boots. Would you like to sit down, Master Tack is not ready yet. "Sure queer. Get me some water" he stated as he sat down on the couch. He whistled for his dog, and Greg came crawling over, leaning down to his feet, beginning to worship him. I opened a bottle of water, dropping an ecstasy tab into it, rotating the bottle a bit, then walked to the couch and handed it to Master Laith. He drank the water quickly and told me to get him another, which i did. Greg kept Master Laith occupied as Laith fucked Greg's head like a cantaloupe for a while before cumming down his throat. Greg settled in, worshipping his Master's feet. When the 30 minute mark hit, i observed the heightened sensations Laith was feeling, so i offered to take his coat, which he happily handed over. Asking next to take his shirt, he laughed while he smiled and told me i just wanted to see his body. I copped to the plea and told him he was correct, and he handed me the shirt, and began feeling up his own incredibly hard body by rubbing his palms over his pecs and abs. As he started to look like a horny slut pawing himself, Tack and Jason came out from the bathroom. Tack was wearing nothing but a pair of Laith's track pants, and Jason was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Both were barefoot. Tack sat down next to Laith, all smiles, putting his arm around Laith's shoulder, leaning his hard muscled torso into Laith's. Tack slid his hand over Laith's crotch lightly as if it was an accident. When Laith shuddered, Tack asked him, "Man are you hot for me or something?" Laith pulled back a bit, "No man, no way. You touched me." Tack observed, "Yeah but i just bumped you by mistake and you look like you wanna suck my cock and your own dick looks like it's ready to explode." Laith looked embarrassed and confused, seeing his cock was tenting his pants. Greg was starting to put the pieces together about his master's incapacity. Jason realized the threat and moved fast to drag Greg away by his leash. Trying to fight for his master as he was being pulled to the back corner, Greg yanked hard on the leash, but Jason slammed a heel into Greg's side making Greg yelp out loud and continued dragging him back to the cage. Getting one of Master Tack's dirty jockstraps, he shoved it in Greg's mouth and taped over his lips locking it in. Next he laid Greg face down and naked on the floor and laid his body over Greg's, his cock chubbing, he rode up and down Greg's crack as he held Greg quietly in place and continued to grind him into the ground. "Hey", Laith said addressing Tack in an accusing tone, "aren't those my trainers? I know I'm missing a few pairs. How did you get those", he demanded through his feel good, sexually charged haze. "I didn't take them man, they were a gift", he corrected. "Who? What kinda gift?" he asked with less of a smile. "Well, the who is Melanie, and the what is that they are a thank you gift." Tack just let that one hang in the air. Finally Tack asked Laith, "You man enough to ask what for dude?" "I already know", Laith admitted sadly. I've gotta go he said, trying to get his shirt to get out of there. Tack pulled him back into the cushion and ran his hand across his cock again and let his wrist cross Laith's pecs, jumping over his nipples. Laith's body tensed and jumped and Tack pulled Laith's back into his chest and wrapped his arms around him, and began to play with his hard nipples. Laith moaned deeply and Tack motioned for me to start filming, as I was too caught up in the scene unfolding to think clearly. I stepped further away and zoomed in so i wouldn't be noticed, choosing to shoot from the side rather than straight on. Laith's head fell back onto Tack's shoulder as Tack continued to manipulate Laith's scorching hot body, making him writhe and groan. "You know why Melanie came around sniffing for me, don't ya?" Laith started to look even sadder and just shook his head no. "Well you knew about it, right man? And you just let her come on over, right? You did that right, you let your little girlfriend come on over and get the taste of a real man, didn't ya?" Near Greg's cage, Jason ground his hard shaft along Greg's crack twice as hard as before and whispered into Greg's ear, "See your big bad Master becoming my Master's bitch, don't ya? Your pretty boy master will be swinging on Tack's cock in no time" he warned. Greg squealed in desperation, and Jason put his hands in the collar around Greg's neck, choking him to prevent him from making too much noise. "Tell me Laith, you did that, right? You let her come over here to service my cock and swallow my cum. You did that, right Laith? You let her come over so that i can fuck her hard the way she likes it, because she's not getting that from you, right?" Laith shook his head no, too upset to speak but too immobilized and erotically manipulated to break free. He felt trapped, and as every second passed he got broken down a little more, mind fucked a bit more, his body tweaked and turned on a bit more. He decided to summon one burst of energy to stand himself up and bolt for the door. Fuck the shirt, the coat or anything else, he wanted to get out of there. Leaning forward and powering up with his legs, he lifted himself off the couch and almost into a standing position, except that Tack still had his arms around Laith playing with his pecs, and when Laith got up, Tack just stayed on for the ride. As they lifted off of the cushion, Tack wrapped his legs around Laith's waist and began to squeeze. Laith stumbled and they both went down on the floor, while Tack continued to squeeze Laith and tweak his chest. Laith was getting exasperated and it was nearly impossible for him to fight through the erotic onslaught he was taking. Tack kept squeezing hard with his legs, while Laith tried to pull Tack's legs off of him, but there was no way he could. He tried rolling, but couldn't get free. His body was too horny to function normally. Feeling as if he had far more control now, Tack moved to put Laith on his back and straddle his chest. As Tack continued to tease Laith's body, he took one of Laith's hands and put it on the ripped muscle of his chest and moved it back and forth. "Man, that's what Melanie came for, ya know? Ya see that, huh? You see what Melanie came for right?" Laith wouldn't answer, but somehow his other hand started to slide along the ruts of Tack's abs as his other hand slid back and forth on his chest. As Laith moaned, Tack took the two finger from his right hand and slid them into Laith's mouth and pressed them back. He waited until he could feel Laith begin to suck his fingers, before withdrawing them, to make Laith feel empty and want more. Now smiling down big time at Laith, both of Laith's hands on Tack's torso, Tack threw a double bicep pose and said, "Yeah, this is what Melanie came for bitch! You know that right? You know it, don't ya?" Laith still refused to break, not speaking or giving any indication of his agreement with what Tack was saying. "You are a tough bitch to break man, you know that" Tack said with a little admiration. Moving his lips down to Laith's ear, Tack resumed his verbal attack. "Melanie was so good when i slayed her body. She couldn't stop screaming man. She was so hot. Said nobody ever fucked her like me, nobody ever handled her like me, ya know? She didn't say it in these exact words, but she basically let me know you're a pussy man. Isn't that right? You're a pussy, aren't ya?" While Tack was whispering into Laith's ear he had also placed his left pit over Laith's face, smothering him in his sweaty smelly masculine musk. Even though he stopped verbally taunting Laith, Tack used his tongue to tease his ear and breathe deeply into it. As Tack relaxed into Laith's body, his pit now really pressed on the face of his prey, and he just waited, and when Laith's tongue started to tease the hairs of his pit, Tack did a silent cheer for his ability to dominate. He needed to ride this thoroughbred until he was raw Tack decided, so he settled in as Laith became more and more defeated and more and more willing. Sliding his arm back and forth over Laith's mouth, he let him taste from his bicep back to his pit, over and over, letting his weaker friend worship him. Sliding up to position his chest over Laith's face he wrapped his arms around the back of Laith's head and smothered him in his hard pecs, waiting for this boy to break. Eventually Laith tapped Tack's shoulder, but Tack was unhappy with the pace of things. He felt he needed to convey the seriousness of the event to Laith, so he redoubled his efforts, squeezing his head, suffocating him, punishing him, and teaching him. It wasn't long before Laith was tapping frantically and begging into Tack's chest muscles. When he finally did release Laith's head, lifting his chest up he reminded Laith, "You didn't answer my question, why did Melanie come over here and why did you let her? C'mon stud, tell me why? I know you know, just tell me. C'mon." Leaning back down he reapplied the same hold and squeezed as tightly as he could. Laith tried to hold out, but he was no match for Tack in this position. Eventually tapping again, Tack lifted and said, "Well?" Laith gulped and gasped and tried to find words. "Melanie is curious, she needs to try things, experience things. She needed to try you", he admitted with defeat. "And what was her opinion?" "She liked it", Laith admitted. "No shit", Tack laughed, "she was back here half a dozen times. Why was she back so many times?" Laith was shy again. Tack suggested, "we can try the pec smother again if you like." "Ok, ok Laith conceded. She said you were raw, powerful, you did shit or at least you did it in a way nobody ever did before, and that you made her feel like she's never felt with anyone else before........ Are you happy?", Laith confessed. "I was happy when she was here and i was using her body man, my question is what did you think as she kept coming back to me, over and over and over and over and over again. How did that make you feel? What kind of man did you think you were then?" Laith began to thrash and jerk around under Tack trying to break free. Tack swung a forearm to the side of Laith's head to stun him a bit, then pushed that forearm against his throat, pressing it into the floor, choking his fellow master. Laith's eyes bulged as Tack looked down on him exerting power and control. "You gonna be a good boy now?" Tack asked. Laith didn't answer immediately, but after another 20 seconds he agreed. Again, wanting to impress upon Laith his seriousness with the situation, he continued to ride laith until he was frantic and desperate. When he finally let off, Tack wasted no time in sitting up, sliding down his trainers and positioning his groin in Laith's face while Laith still choked and sputtered for air. Before he knew it, Tack's cock was penetrating Laith's lips and he was tasting his first. As Tack pushed in, Laith coughed; but Tack remained undeterred as he urgently pistoned to find Laith's throat and bury his cock further into his wet canal. Laith looked frantic as he got his wits about him, trying to throw Tack off, but Tack looked down at him, made a fist, pulled back his right arm and threatened, "How do you want to do this boy?" Laith allowed Tack to continue to use his mouth without a fight as he felt his strength fade a little. Laith was not one to submit. He could feel his submission to Tack rise and it made him sick. Laith struggled on Tack's cock as it pummeled him mouth, but no matter, Tack was content to use Laith's mouth and have him swallow his cum, no matter how bad his friend was at giving head. As Laith continued to choke, Tack pumped Laith's head until he erupted a mouthful of his potent cum down Laith's throat. Sliding back, Tack laid on top of Laith, chest to chest and cheek to cheek and rested for a while, making sure to continue to work his friends sensitive body. As i filmed, i wondered what Laith was thinking and why he remained there under Tack while he rested. My question was answered soon enough as Laith tried to get up, get out from under Tack. As Tack resisted, Laith pushed him and managed to get him off of him and get to his feet. Reaching for his shirt, Tack grabbed Laith and twisted his arm behind his back, locking his arm high up, then he pressed him face down on the couch. "AAAuuughhhhh" Laith yelled. "No Tack! Stop!", but Tack tightened his hold incapacitating Laith. I immediately started filming again. Reaching for Laith's belt, Tack unleashed his pants and boxers, pushing them down to his knees as Laith was positioned with his chest on the couch seat and his knees on the carpet in front of the couch. Moving forward, sawing his cock up and down between Laith's flawless muscled ass cheeks, Tack asked again, "What did you think as she kept coming back? How did that make you feel? What kind of man did you think you were then?" Tack refused to answer again. Laughing, Tack acknowledged, "You are one fucking tough mother fucker. You won't break." Tack sighed, letting Laith's arm free from his back. "But, I have one request before you go", Tack explained. "Yeah, what?", Laith asked not believing he'd get out without a fight. "I want five minutes with you to do anything but fuck you.", Laith explained. "I think it beats us fighting each other', Tack observed. Laith hated the idea, but he didn't like his odds of fighting Tack today either, as his body felt so strange. He started wondering about that. Laith thought another minute. "Ok, i think it's my best choice for you to finally understand that you cannot break me". "OK, sit down", Tack said. Laith slid up to sit on the couch with his pants around his ankles. As he reached for his pants, Tack said, "just leave those where they are." Changing strategies completely, Tack straddled Laith's lap, leaned down and pressed his mouth over Laith's kissing the golden boy and making him taste him. Laith's senses were suddenly under attack and his head spun and Tack's powerful tongue and lips took his breath away. Simultaneously, he reached down and began to tweak and tease Laith's nipples. Tack watched Laith's cock and saw it starting to grow. Letting his hands roam over Laith's body, Tack brought his mouth down to Laith's chest and chewed on his muscles roughly, showing Laith his Alpha side, but gently. Sliding his hands up and across Laith's torso, he continued to see his cock react, spurting pre for Tack. Then moving back to his mouth, Laith gasped as his cock jerked and it looked as if Tack was inhaling the life out of Laith as he collapsed under Tack's softer erotic attack. "Girl, you just need someone to be nice to you, don't ya?" Tack whispered. You don't mind being my girl, right, you just want me to treat ya nice, don't ya?" he said. Laith's cock was rock hard. Tack, leaned back and away from Laith, so Laith leaned forward trying to reconnect with Tack's hot body as he withdrew it from him. Sliding his hand behind Laith's neck, Tack pulled him into his chest and fed him his hard muscle while he continued to whisper filthy nothings into his Laith's ear. Tack had whipped Laith into a frenzy, and whispered into his ear while he worked overtime to hit Laith's hotspots. I wanna fuck you now, and i know you want it too girl. I know you want me to. I'm not gonna hurt you, i promise. You can trust me? I'll go slow." He said as he caressed Laith's body all over. Laith hesitated as his head rolled from sensory overload, and that's when Tack knew he was in. "You're gonna sit on my cock, girl so you can control the motion", Tack reassured. Tack started by sitting Laith on his lap and sawing at his crack, letting the tip hit and get stuck in the hole until it finally caught and Tack's cock shot some pre that wet Laith's hole. Next the head was in and Laith was lowering himself carefully feeling all of the crazy new sensations in his body, firing like explosives. Tack started to thrust up in his impatience, and as Laith tried to pull up, Tack grabbed his hips and kept him moving down. As Laith moaned, Tack continued to drive in further and the more Laith tried to pull out the further Tack dragged him down until Tack was finally in. Bouncing lightly, Laith began to get used to the feeling in his ass, when suddenly he gasped, "AAAAAWWwwwwwww, OOOOhhhhhhhh, AAAhhhhhh. Oh my god" he cried. "And we've hit your nerve i see" Tack said cheekily. "You want me to stop now? Pull Out?" he asked Laith sarcastically. "Oh god no, please", he begged. Tack looked to make sure i was filming and i gave him the thumbs up. Tack sawed at Laith's prostate a few more times to keep him engaged and warmed up before sliding him forward and positioning him on his hands and knees on the carpet. He continued to saw slowly keeping Laith in heat. Looking towards me, he indicated it was soon going to be time for a close up. Looking over his shoulder, he signaled the same to Jason, so he was ready to setup Laith's slave for the double fuck event. As Tack sawed gently, he leaned forward and whispered in Laith's ear, "What did you think when Melanie kept coming back?" and then Tack stopped slowly arousing Laith. "Please don't stop" Laith begged, his body on fire from the ecstasy and Tacks' technique on his prostate. "Answer me." Task ordered. "I was afraid I couldn't compete, that you were better" Laith admitted weakly, and Tack sawed against Laith's nerve a few more times before stopping and asking, "and were you able to compete?" Tack questioned as he continued to punish his new foe. You could see Laith's veneer of strength crack a little more as Tack worked his body on Laith, sawing his insides, breaking his defenses. Laith gasped "No". "How did that make you feel?" "Oh. god please" Laith begged. "Answer boy" Tack replied. "Weak." Tack sawed a few more times as Laith's skin looked like it might catch on fire from the heat. "What kind of man did you think you were then?", Tack asked. "Weak Sir, weak. Inferior Sir. Like a faggot Sir" "YES, FUCK YEAH" Tack screamed so loud the neighborhood could hear it. Then snapping his fingers, he gave us our cue. Jason dragged Greg in and set up right next to Laith and Tack so their were two sets of DOMs & subs in parallel, while I moved in for head-on close ups and profiles for the video. Tack pulled his hips back and drove in deep as Laith screamed, and i caught it all on video, while Jason did a unique position where he put one foot on the back of Greg's head forcing his face down into the dirty carpet while his other foot was perpendicular between Greg's legs as Greg was on his hands and knees. Then, Jason dropped his cock straight down into Greg's hole pounding it while he crushed his face down into the ground. Both bitches, Master Laith and his slave Greg, were getting raped hard By the Alpha Master Tack and his slave Jason as my camera caught it all. "What does this make you?" Tack barked at Laith. "Weak Sir", Laith admitted sadly. "And who do you answer to now bitch, who?" "You Sir, You" he yelled in response. "Tell me you're my bitch from now on", Tack ordered. As Laith was breaking he sobbed and admitted to Laith that he was his bitch. Though Laith was having trouble catching his breath and bearing up under the pain, he was answering all of Tack's questions properly as Tack totally smoked Laith's pussy and hot body. "You never were good enough" Tack announced, as Laith was being humiliated for Tack's pleasure in front of the camera for potentially any person to see that Tack might share it with. Tack threw one more double bicep pose for the camera as he hollowed out and created another fag to use, while his boy Jason destroyed Laith's pitiful slave Greg right next to him.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/perceptions/perceptions-49
Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2024 14:52:01 +0000 From: Greg S Subject: Perceptions - 49 Please remember to support Nifty and their work so that they can continue this forum for entertainment and expression. Use link https://donate.nifty.org/ to donate please. Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further! Perceptions - Chapter 49 Laith pulled up to Tack's house, as was decided he would do every morning. Tack and Greg came out, Tack all smiles, Greg looking like a zombie once again. Opening the front door, Tack didn't need to say a word as Melanie got out and jumped into the back seat of Laith's VW, pulling Greg with her, as Tack got into the passenger seat. Tack observed Laith on the trip to school, seeing that he was withdrawn and quiet. He figured that was expected, as Laith needed to adjust. Tack could also see that Laith looked vulnerable and submissive, and Tack knew he'd pried the door open and then ripped it off. Laith had gone from impenetrable, to now being weak and compliant for Tack. Staring at Laith for a minute, Tack admired the beautiful boy he now owned, appreciated his skills, his mind and especially his body. He was completely satisfied with his new property. Walking through the locker halls, Tack didn't care about what was happening with Melanie or Greg. He just wanted Laith standing a few feet obediently behind him as he walked through the halls stopping to talk to people as he made his way to his locker. When he ran into Ben, Jerry and Karson along the way and paused to talk, Laith heeled and waited obediently a few steps behind. Tack had achieved exactly what he wanted with Laith, and was proud of his slave. He was also excited to see what his friends' reactions to Laith would be. He'd shown them the evidence, but he also knew Laith was still a major figure demanding respect in their minds. They all seemed to have big shit-eating smiles, but none of them commented on the obvious. Reaching his locker, Tack visually assessed his boy running his eyes from top to bottom. "What?" asked Laith sadly. "You're gonna be fine boy.", Tack observed while smiling. "Go learn something", he said as he dismissed his submissive. Jay Hunter was the kind of guy whose family made Tack's look like the Brady Bunch. Jay was tall, wiry and strong. His wavy brown hair was unkept and long, and acne prevented most people from appreciating his handsome face and determined eyes. His clothes didn't do anything to upgrade the look as they were always a bad fit, often dirty and mismatched. Jay excelled in shop class and had intelligence, but smarts wasn't valued where he came from, so he didn't care much about studies. "Hey", Jay said greeting Tack as he leaned against the locker next to Tack's. "Out from under your rock again?" Tack asked his much taller classmate. "Ahhh, c'mon man. Why you gotta be that way?" Tack stared at him quietly for a minute and went back to rummaging through his locker. "Word is you have a new toy" Jay mentioned slyly, smirking to his old friend. "I've got lots of toys." Tack said closing his locker and walking away from Jay. As he strode down the hall, he smiled and thought to himself, `oh yeah'. Laith agreed to meet Tack, Melanie and Greg at the rear entrance at 3:30. Showing up a few minutes late, Tack found Laith waiting with Greg, and Melanie was still not there. "C'mon guys, i have to get something from the locker room downstairs", Tack announced. "We're fine to wait here", Laith suggested. "Nah, follow me", Tack ordered. Pleading in a whisper, Laith begged, "Please Master", using that word for the first time to address Tack, he continued, "Please don't. I can't do it Sir." Tack had a tiny bit of sympathy for the former alpha turned slut, but Tack had a job to do. Putting a hand on Laith's shoulder, he led his former friend and now slave downstairs, while continuing to teach him. He questioned, "What am i to you, and what are you to me?" Laith admitted emotionally, "I'm your slave Master Tack. You're my Alpha Sir." Smirking, Tack continued, "Right, and so i have your back, but you gotta do what i say. But then, i take care of you and protect you, so you have nothing to worry about. You see that?" Laith stifled a sob as Tack pulled open the locker room door and pushed Laith in, leading both him and Greg to the farthest corridor of lockers in the back. Of course as expected, Ben, Jerry and Karson were waiting there, all of them looking nervous and anxious and excited all at once. "I thought we'd get reintroduced." Tack announced. "Get everyone reoriented to updates and changes. Shit changes, ya know?", Tack explained scanning everyone with a look that was both serious and sarcastic. Drawing out his words the indomitable Master directed, "Laith, why don't you show everyone some of the new things you learned, starting with my feet." Looking close to tears, Laith dropped to his knees and began to remove Tack's Nikes and peel off his socks before leaning down to start laying kisses on the tops of his feet. In awe, seeing the mightiest of conquerers fall, the three teammates had shock on their faces, seeing positive confirmation of what the picture they'd received last night already showed them. They watched, mesmerized, as a new reality sunk in. Watching it helped them to comprehend just how much had shifted for Laith. Looking at Greg, Tack instructed, "strip bitch and on your knees for my boys." Again in his trance-like mode he followed directions and assumed a kneeling position before his teammates. Tack looked and asked, "What are you waiting for?" to his three friends. Karson look afraid to cross that boundary and Jerry looked curious but patient, after all Greg and Laith were legendary and they were used to protecting that legend. Stepping up, unbuckling his belt, opening his jeans and pulling out his hardening cock, Ben slapped it against his hands twice, before declaring, "Shit changes", and he thrust his cock into Greg's mouth and started fucking his head like a beast. Greg was used to taking it rough and he impressed all three of his teammates in his capacity to perform. Ben's bravado lifted the spirits among everyone there, as the air was more charged with dominant energy. "Ok girl" Tack commanded, "Take off your clothes like your boyfriend here for me. Stand up and do it slowly for me and my buds." Laith wasn't expecting to be objectified, to be made the center of attention, to have to interact in his own humiliation. He so wanted to just be able to keep his head down and disappear. Helping Laith to his feet, Tack prodded, "C'mon girl." Pulling his own sweater over his head, his t-shirt underneath it rode up with it, exposing Laith's ripped core. Tack admired his boy, whistling at how hot he is. Karson laughed a little, starting to loosen up and feel more a part of the pack. Laith pried off his expensive boots and unbelted his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Standing there in just boxers and socks, Tack admired how perfect his slave was and smiled genuinely at Laith for only a second. "You wanna take those off?" Tack asked pointing at his boxer shorts. "I can't do what i gotta do with those on." he explained. Surprisingly, Karson asked for a turn at Greg's mouth and Ben allowed him to rotate in for a turn. Standing in front of his teammate, Karson looked down and said "Suck it good pussy" as he punched his cock into Greg's throat. Laith now naked, except for his socks, got redirected by Tack, "Up on the bench, on all fours. Face me." he instructed as he positioned Laith's ass towards the boys as Tack plunged into his mouth, face fucking his bitch while he watched his guys manhandle and pass Greg around like a slut. Leaning forward, Tack whispered into Laith's ear, "too bad Mel isn't here." After everyone had a turn on Greg's mouth and were going for seconds, Tack spun Laith around on the bench, keeping him on all fours, but now he was facing the guys and Tack was behind him also seeing the same thing that Laith was. His cock wet and lubed from Laith's mucus, Tack lined up his cock with Laith's hole and carefully but consistently drove it into Laith's cunt until he bottomed out. Allowing a few moments for Laith to acclimate, Tack paused before pulling back out and thrusting in harder this time and staying buried while he pushed into his boy to the hilt. Laith's hole belonged to Tack, and everyone could see that. Pulling out again, Tack began a consistent pistoning of Laith's hole and with the discomfort, Laith curled his head under and placed it down on the bench. "Oh no girl. No you don't.", Tack corrected. Grabbing a fistful of Laith's hair he dragged his head back, his face now up as he was looking at his teammates using his former slave's face as a fuck hole. Looking for a reaction, Tack slammed extra hard into Laith a few times, making Laith yelp and cry out, which caused Tack to up his game even more until he was punishing Laith's hole with brutal thrusts as his boy winced from the pain. "Tell them" Tack commanded. Laith moaned and whimpered, but did not speak. "Tell them" he again demanded, bringing a hard slap down across Laith's ass, leaving a huge red handprint. Laith's dignity was destroyed again as he started to babble, "Master Tack is my Alpha. I belong to him and he is my Master" Laith cried. "I live to serve and obey him, he is my lord and i'll do whatever he say. I am his slave." he yelled as his head fell forward and hung as Tack thrust his arm in the air. Redoubling his efforts Tack was intent to wreck Laith's pussy once again, delivering hard slaps to his tender ass to keep his boy alert, as his teammates watched on in fascination as they proceeded to face fuck and deposit record amount of cum into Greg.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/j-and-ms-pig/
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