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Date: Tue, 23 Jul 2002 16:58:40 +1000 From: Iain Robertson Subject: Take It Or Leave It - Ch 2 Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!! This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk. This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com. Take It or Leave It Chapter 2 Iainlthr@hotmail.com As the waves of passion slowly receded from him, he lifted away from me once again, pulling himself from my gripping muscle with a greedy slurping wetness. Letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, he slumped down, pushing me forward so that I was now prone on the ground in front of him, and he fell crashing onto me, wiping his slimy, cum slaked cock over my lower back before he covered me with his body. "Fucken' hell, boy, I needed that BAD!" he hissed, before standing and pushing me over onto my back with his foot. He smiled down at me then. "Good dog," he laughed, "very good dog." My heart raced at the words, my emotions running wild. For some inexplicable reason I was immensely happy that he had enjoyed using me as he had. I almost forgot how incredibly erotic the experience had been for me as well. Almost. I would never really forget it; I had just enjoyed the most intensely pleasurable fucking of my life up until that time. I lay there at his feet, covered in the remnants of both my own cum and his, my cock still semi-hard with the restraining leather cockring around me, and looked up into his eyes. He smiled down at me, a beaming grin of pleased ownership. Relaxing on the chair, his massive tool still slimed with juice, the PA glistening in the moisture clinging to him, he placed one foot on my chest lightly. He looked thoughtful as he poured himself a drink from a bottle of whisky and rolled a cigarette. As the plume of smoke enveloped his head, he closed his eyes, the contented Master of his world, and the owner of an obedient puppy who had pleased him well. A half hour or more passed before he stirred again. "Time to get ready for bed." He announced as he stood over me again. "If I'd known I was getting a dog, I'd have built a kennel, but for tonight you'll have to sleep in the store-room." With that, he headed into the other room which opened off the living area, and busied himself for a few minutes. When he came back out he was holding a medium sized black rubber butt plug. I looked at him startled, surely he did not want to use me again for sex. I was exhausted from our earlier encounters, and from the walking through the day. I was still lying on my back on the floor where he had left me, and he knelt at my feet, pushing my legs back. "If you're gonna sleep inside, I better make sure you don't go dirtying the place up." He said, more to himself than to me. With my tender anus still slick from the lube he had used and from the remnants of his ejaculation, it was easy enough for him to insert the plug into me, pushing firmly and jiggling it around. I gasped as my already stretched sphincter resisted this new assault, pain shooting up from my arsehole for a few seconds, and then the plug was in, and my ring closed around it, clenching back to the core of the toy, as the bulb lodged inside my rectum and the base held it safely in place. The pain went as quickly as it had come, and I was left feeling filled but easy, if a little uncomfortable. Dragging me now by the chain still attached to my neck, he pulled me into the room he had just left. On the floor in the middle of the room was a huddle of old blankets forming a kind of bed. He snapped the leash I wore over a metal railing, and fixed two more lengths of chain to each wrist so that I couldn't move my arms, or roll over onto my stomach. Without another word, he walked out and left me there on the floor, my cock still restrained by the leather band, my arse filled with the rubber bung. I thought I would never sleep in that position, but the exhaustion of my day proved me wrong. Despite my humiliating circumstances, before long I fell into a deep sleep populated with hazy dreams about chains and restraints, and hairy men dressed in leather who treated me like a plaything. The next morning I woke suddenly, a tingling sensation in my dick irritating me into consciousness. In the first few seconds of waking I panicked, struggled vainly at the chains holding my arms in place and fell back onto the rough blankets where I had slept. He was bending over me, having just finished tying a piece of leather thong tightly around the girth of my cock, just below the lip of my cockhead. It was this which had caused the tingling sensation and woken me. I looked at him startled, opened my mouth and began to say something, only to close it again at his look of warning. My joints were stiff from the long night without movement, my cock ached and my arse was tender and sore from his ravages last night, and the butt plug embedded in it which had remained in place since yesterday evening. I pulled against the restraints again, a sense that I needed to be free rising in my brain. He looked hard at me, thought for a second. "You agreed to this, boy, remember. Do you want to back out of our agreement? Just say so, and I'll cut you free right now, let you walk away." I thought on this. Into my mind came the memories of the long dusty track back to the deserted road, the heat and blisters. Then I recalled last night's activities, the deep lusty fucking I had enjoyed, the incredible pleasure of his invading cock. I mused on the pride I had felt at his approval, wondered that my normally rational world was turned upside down by surrendering to the hulking man before me, and startled myself with the realisation that I liked that approval, that I needed to surrender to him. "Speak, boy!" he commanded. "Uh, no, Sir." I murmured. "I want to stay, Sir, do as you tell me, Sir." "Good," he said. A simple statement of accepting my obedience. He unfastened the chains holding my wrists, replacing them with a restraint that kept my hands behind my back. "Now I have things to do. Out!" he commanded, pointing to the door. I stumbled to my feet and shuffled forward, my ankles still kept close together by the bar between them. Through the main room I went and outside into the sun and fresh air. He followed me outside, then tied the leash around my neck to a post on the patio, ensuring I could go no further than a few metres in any direction. Disappearing around the side of the cottage I heard him talking to himself, quietly. "Pity I don't have no gloves, better if its hands were free but useless. And I need a kennel for it too. Damn this showing up without warning." It took me a second to realise he was referring to me as he grumbled. He really did see me as a pet to be used, but catered to as well. My feelings raced between revulsion, joy and need. My rational brain said this wasn't right, but my emotional heart said it felt good, exciting and pleasurable. And deep down inside, I wanted to be his toy, his possession, wanted him to approve of me and be pleased with me. Several times he came back to check on me. He remained completely naked, and seemed quite comfortable in his nudity. I was adorned only with the leather pieces, my ankle and wrist bands, the collar and cockring, and the butt plug still firmly wedged within my arse. In this situation, it felt right to be undressed as I was. I could hear noises from where he worked, hammering and sawing, grunting and heaving. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I sat there, tied to the post as he had left me. As the morning wore on, I became more and more aware of my bodily functions, or rather the lack thereof. I needed desperately to both shit and piss, but could do neither, the butt plug and the tight leather thong saw to that. I tried not to think about it, forced myself to concentrate on something else, but the natural urges grew stronger as time passed. The next time his face appeared around the corner of the house, I looked at him hard. He seemed to take no notice, and I almost called out, biting my tongue at the last moment. Instead I whimpered, loudly, the noise a high pitched whine in my throat. That got his attention and he came closer. I looked up at him, the need on my face growing. "What's up, dogboy?" he asked, a look of amusement appearing. I stared at him again, willing him to know, and whined yet again. He laughed at my predicament but did not move. Finally I gave up all sense of dignity, clambered over to him, and licked at his arm, begging for release. I looked at his eyes, down to my aching cock, and back to him again. "Damn, but your learning fast!" he chuckled. "Only good dogs get to relieve themselves. Have you been a good dog?" The acknowledgement that he knew what I wanted was almost overwhelming. I nodded my head quickly, eagerly, and licked at him again. It was the only way I knew to keep him happy, to get him to allow me the relief I desperately needed. Laughing with delight at my antics, he stepped closer. "Lie down!" he ordered. As I obeyed, he pushed my legs back toward my chest, and took a hold of the base of the butt plug. Jiggling it and pulling at it slowly but firmly, he eased it from me. Pain racked my arse as the bulb of the toy stretched me yet again, but when it was gone the sense of relief was amazing. Leading me down to a patch of dirt not far from the house, he smirked again, and reached around to quickly release the binding leather thong wrapped around my cockhead. "Okay, shithead, do your business here, and make sure you bury it properly!" Unable to hold on a second longer, I squatted quickly and opened my bowels, gasping with relief. As I finished, I fell forward onto my knees. He was still behind me watching intently. "Cock your leg!" he ordered. Almost without question, I lifted one knee as my bladder took over and a long withheld stream of piss poured onto the ground beside me. He laughed again, bellowing with mirth at my actions. "Fucking well done. Best yet!" he praised. I was just beginning to glow from his approval as my leak slowed, when suddenly a shower of steaming rank yellow liquid poured down onto me. I swung around in surprise, to find him standing above me, grinning widely, and aiming his long hose of flesh directly at me, the strong stream of urine spraying over my back, my torso, my head. My initial reaction was one of horror, but he laughed loudly as he pissed. "Damn, you're fucken hot, boy. Better than I hoped for!" His words were music to my ears, and as the apparently never ending river of urine poured out of his massive prick and down over me, I actually began to enjoy it. His piss was warm, golden and masculine as it sprayed over my body and washed down the dust. When he finally finished, shaking his flaccid cock in my direction as the last drops spattered against me, I sat down again in the dust and smiled at him. "Yeah, fucker, that's right,' he said, "keep me happy, and you'll get rewarded, just like a good dog should do!" As he returned to his work, I nudged a pile of dirt over the excrement I had left with my knees, and went back to my assigned place on the porch to await my master's pleasure. The sun travelled higher and the heat intensified. A little before noon he re-appeared, drenched in sweat and dust. I looked up eagerly as he rounded the corner, and sat up. The dried remnants of body fluids, cum, saliva, urine, sweat, were hard and cracked on my body as they had collected the dust and become dirty mud all over me, slicking down and matting the hair on my arms and legs and chest. He looked at me as I gazed up at him from my position on the ground, eager to please and anxious for his approval. His stare was a mixture of mirth, ownership and concern. I could not discern his intentions -- for someone who was simply using me for temporary sexual gratification he seemed very intent on meeting my needs, but my needs as an animal, not a fellow human. Glancing around, he muttered a rebuke to himself and went into the house, returning with a bowl of water which he placed in front of me. "Damn!" he swore. "Got to remember, a dog needs its water in this heat." As he watched I gratefully sank my face into the bowl and lapped up the cool liquid, quenching my thirst and moistening my dried throat. While I slurped at the bowl of water, he drank deeply from a bottle of beer. Shading his face and looking out over the land, he spoke, to himself, but I am sure for my benefit, although he didn't address me as such. "Too hot to work now. Middle of the day is for rest and relaxation, time to find somewhere cool and take it easy." He dropped himself into an easy chair in the shade offered by the small awning, spreading and stretching his muscled tanned legs. Still attached to the post by my leash, I crept forward into the shade as well, curling up into as comfortable a position as I could find between his feet. "Good boy" he murmured absently, lifting one foot and rubbing it along my back. I smiled to myself and settled there, enjoying the rubbing of his toughened flesh on my shoulder blades. He quickly finished his beer, and began on a second, rolled himself a cigarette and stretched out further, his arms reclining beside his strong torso. I had begun to think he may have fallen asleep in that chair, when suddenly a large belch escaped him, startling me into looking up at him quickly. He laughed again at that. "Now this is living!" he said happily. "A comfortable home, good open land, an obedient dog for company. What more could a man ask?" He smiled, a self satisfied grin, and stood up. As he did, I jumped up as well, to get out of his way. He stepped down off the porch and I shuffled after him on hands and knees, until I reached the limit of the leash still tied to the post. He turned and looked at me. "You're filthy, dog!" he stated and I lowered my eyes in acknowledgement and disgrace. He walked back to stand directly over me and I watched as he took his cock in hand and pointed in my direction. I knew what was coming and was prepared for it this time, so as the hot stream began I turned to face him full on. The yellow shower fell onto my chest and my groin, and I revelled in the feeling as the liquid poured over me. It was cleansing in a way, washing the dried dirt from me. Looking at its source, I marvelled at the massive tool he sported, and the horny look of the silver ring which pierced his fleshy snake. He directed the stream up and down my body, grinning widely as he did, and as it focussed on my groin, I began to harden. The eroticism of being pissed on by this bear awakening my natural reactions again. As he finished, he leaned down and slapped his palm at my growing hardon. "Typical dog, always randy. C'mon shithead, I need to get under the shade." He untied the leather lead and walked quickly toward the river, two bottles of beer under his arm and my chain wrapped around his wrist. I shuffled behind as best I could, finding it difficult to keep up with him with my shackled feet. I stumbled and fell as he pulled harder on the leash, going down onto my knees. He turned on me, anger in his eyes. "Fucking lazy animal! Get moving," he hissed, raising his hand. I cringed and waited but the blow which landed on my shoulder was surprisingly light. "I s'pose it can't help it. Those hands tied behind its back are no good. Damn!" He snorted to himself. I got to my feet again and shuffled to where he had stopped under the shade of a large tree on a grassy spot close by the water. Sinking to my knees just in front of him, I looked into his eyes, my own full of uncertainty. I did not want to upset him, but had to take my lead from what he did or said. Leaning down, he reached for my ankles. "I guess I can trust it not to run away now," he said to himself as he unfastened the connecting metal, and leaving just the leather cuffs in place. Walking around behind me, similarly he undid the shackles on my wrists, so that only the leather bands around my skin remained, giving me full movement of my arms and legs again. I stayed on my knees and turned toward him, coming face to face with his dangling meat and large hairy nuts. Instantly, my own cock leapt to attention at the proximity of his fleshy tool. He chuckled. "Want a bone, dog? See if you can catch this one." He swung his hips from side to side in front of me, his cock tantalisingly close to my mouth with each sidelong motion. I lapped at it, my tongue extended to try to catch him, as the metal ring glinted in the sunlight centimetres from me. Several times his flaccid tube smacked against my cheek, but I was too slow to capture that fleshy monster with my lips. Laughing heartily at our game, he continued to twist his hips, the pierced and heavy prick slapping at me, tantalisingly close. He sipped continuously at his beer as he teased me, chuckling and belching, until he finally stilled and as he did I quickly sucked the head of his dong into my mouth, tasting the residue of his piss and the salty sweat of his earlier labour. Licking at the PA and slurping around his cut head, I relished the soft firmness of him, as he let his slack meat rest between my moist lips. I licked and played with the spongy flesh of his massive cock, tasted his musk, and nibbled at the metal ring through his slit. My own cock quickly jumped to attention as I suckled at his tool, and I was rewarded with the thickening solidity of him within my mouth. As he hardened, I slurped at his corona, and sank my throat over the growing tumescence, coaxing him into arousal with my tongue and teeth. I looked up to his face as I dived at his prong, to see a look of satisfied contentment. As I devoted all my attention to his cock, he drained the beer, and one hand wandered to his chest, playing with the ring through his nipple almost absently as he stood there and accepted my adoration of his manmeat. His prong was now rigid, the fullness of it throbbing slightly within my gullet as I constricted my throat around him, determined to please the bear standing in front of me. I could taste the delicious beginnings of his precum as his slit oozed its sticky fruit onto my tongue and I savoured every droplet. He gave a few light thrusts into my neck, teasing me as he pretended to fuck my face without any real conviction. I coated his cock with my saliva, the mucous mixing with his precum to form a generous slimy sheath around that huge dong. Suddenly he pulled himself from my face, and pushed me down onto my hands and knees. "Enough of your games, pussy boy," he said in a soft hiss. "Time for you to take this bone like the dog you are." As he spoke, he moved in behind me, kneeling on the soft grass, and nudged my legs apart with his knees. His large brawny hands gripped my hips as he lined himself up with the twitching pink target of my arse hole. Steadying himself as the metal of the PA pressed at the tender skin of my ring, he suddenly humped himself into me in one long powerful thrust. I gasped out with surprise, bit my lip and refused to cry out with the sudden pain. My sphincter ached at the assault, protesting the invasion by the metal tipped pole of steel hard flesh. But the pain wasn't as bad as I had expected. The ravaging that I had received last night, and the all-night plugging of my butt by the rubber plug, had left me both stretched and relaxed. My arse was tender but open, and so I accepted his attack easily. As the initial pain died, I marvelled at the sensational tingles of pleasure his giant log stimulated within me, the cool steel of his piercing scraping the walls of my chute as the hot throbbing pole filled and massaged my innards. As soon as he had smashed himself into me, burying himself to the root, he pulled back again, and thumped his body against mine once more. With each near-withdrawal and re-insertion, his PA rubbed against my prostate and the indescribable pleasure of this attack on my G-spot made me shudder and moan with joy. He fucked me hard. Fast and powerful. His thrusting was a pile driver, ramming his huge rod into my soft wet cavern. He hammered that massive spike into me, again and again, as my entire body tingled and shook. I tried to hump him back, tried to ride with his rhythm, clenching at him as he withdrew, opening for his inward shove, but there was no point. He was an animal, driven and lusty, determined to take his pleasure from my yielding form, to hump and plough me until he satisfied his basic urge, regardless of what I did. I doubted whether he cared if I took pleasure or pain from the frenzied fucking which raged upon me at his hands, but for my part, I shuddered and gasped with the delight of his invasion. He humped at me, pumping his giant weapon into me deeper and harder than I imagined was possible. In the heat of the day his sweat dripped from him onto my back as he rutted like the beast he was at my accepting hole. Cursing and gasping with unbridled male lust he fucked at me, impaled me on his spear. "Fuck yes, take this you fucking whore," he hissed at me. "Like that, don't you, like my meat shoved up your tight little doggy hole, you fucker." His motion became a thumping, crashing piston in and out of me as he rammed his pole harder and harder into my gut. My breath grew short as I gasped with the overwhelming pleasure of him taking me. My cock swung back and forth in time with his thrusts, slapping up at my belly then dangling in the air, my balls rocked and swayed as my dong swung to the beat of his screwing. I gave up all pretense of trying to keep up with him, and with my nerves tingling at the waves of passion sweeping through me, I simply surrendered totally to his attack, my body sagging into limp acceptance of his rampaging probing of my arse, my mind blank of all thought save the peaking excitement as he took complete control and fucked me like I had never been fucked before. His thumping rut reached a crescendo as he gasped then bellowed a guttural yell to the sky, his cock swollen and rampant within me. In one lightning fast movement he ripped himself from me, with a slurping wet wrenching sound. I gasped at the sudden withdrawal, the emptiness as my ravaged chute was deserted by his log of masculinity. He shuddered against my legs, and I felt the spattering heat of flying globs as he shot his jism over my back. Searing, sticky arcs of cum leapt from his cock to land on my skin, trickling along my spine to form a lake of slimy juice on my back. "Fuck, yeah!" he declared as his orgasm faded. He slapped his still erect cock against my butt cheek, and rubbed the slippery shaft up the crack of my arse. Gripping himself tightly, he pressed himself to my gaping twitching anus, and shoved that dripping turgid sword back into the scabbard of my ravaged arse. Stretched and open as I was, I still gasped at the unexpected intrusion, and the renewed delight as he humped one more time into me, crashing himself hard against my butt, and stopped. "Holy fuck, that's a nice piece of arse, boy" he exclaimed. He rested there, his hands on my hips as his now quiet but still hard tool filled my cavern. I was still in a state of full arousal, my cock twitching and swollen, leaking precum voluminously, and I gripped at him within me, trying to gain some further stimulation. He laughed at my efforts, and slapped my bare cheek with his palm. "Take it easy, dogboy, time for a rest." I whimpered as my need went unsatisfied, perched on hands and knees, unable to get the touch I needed to reach climax. With his manhood still sunk within me, he stayed there easily on his knees, our bodies connected by the long tube of his flesh gripped within my bowel. Without moving his hips from my rear, he retrieved another bottle of beer and opened it easily, drinking deep and slaking the thirst he had developed humping my butt. For ten or fifteen minutes we remained in that position, as I ached with need while his cock inhabited my arse and he slurped at his beer. Occasionally he would land a quick slap on my butt, causing me to involuntarily clench my sphincter around his thickness, ensuring he remained firmly lodged in place. Despite my desire, I could sense that his tumescence was waning, the blood returning to normal as his long hose softened. Yet still he left his cock in place, the flaccidity not enough to cause him to exit me, the slaps and subsequent clenches sufficient to keep him lodged between my muscles. I began to wonder how long he would remain like this, why he persisted in this position. And the whole time my cock throbbed, my need unabated. And then I sensed a change in him. It was almost as though he were waiting for something, or straining against something. He let out a long low "mmmmmmm", and leaned harder against me, his cock still lodged in my hole, not quite soft, but long and warm. And then it began. He breathed loudly, a sound of relief, and I felt my body filling with warm liquid. He was taking a piss! I relaxed myself and felt the cavity of my bowel fill slowly. It was a remarkable, pleasing sensation. My gut swelled as it filled, my arse stoppered with his thick meat as he emptied his bladder inside me. My cock throbbed and twitched again as the filling continued, my bowel stretching. Amazingly, I found the experience arousing, exciting, my nerve ends tingling with heightened senses. My distended gut finally reached the point where I could take no more, and despite his firmly lodged cock, the steaming yellow liquid began to leak from me, dribbling down my legs. I moaned with the combined sensations flooding me, my cock jerking forward. As he finished his leak, he sighed and slapped my rump once again, then slowly, carefully withdrew from me. I felt an urgent need to expel the liquid he had deposited, knew I could not hold on for long. At the same time, my cock ached and my balls rolled as the arousal I had felt demanded attention. Making his way around to kneel beside me, he grinned and said quietly, "Damn good performance, doggy. Time for a reward." I whimpered as my body rebelled against the sensations flooding through me, then gasped as he unexpectedly reached and grabbed me, his fingers closing tightly around the base of my cock, pinching off the blood to my dick and pulling my balls down and away from my body. As he tightened his grip and a powerful aching pain rolled through my guts, he lifted his hand in a light but firm punch to my abdomen. The effect was immediate. I lost control of my sphincter and expelled the remnants of his urine in a long powerful stream, gasping out as I did and forcing the liquid from my gut. As the relief flooded through me, I bucked and humped against his hand, my nuts trying to unload their contents but prevented by the vice-like grip he had on me. I looked at him, desperation in my eyes, and whined. That was what he was waiting for. At my unspoken plea, he released his grip, then folded his hand about my shaft, flogging it hard, the friction of his sweaty palm jacking my aching cock down and forward. It took no more than two or three jerks before I was groaning and breathless, and my tortured cock erupted in a spray of ejaculate, shooting my wad over the grassy carpet where I knelt. Finally spent, he removed his hands and sat back on the ground watching me, as I collapsed in exhaustion, rolling onto one side and looking directly into his face. He smiled at me, an unspoken approval, and I felt the pride well within. After a few moments, he moved to me again. "Time for a serious wash up," he announced, and unfastened all of my adornments, the ankle and wrist cuffs, even the collar so that for the first time I was utterly and completely naked. "Take a swim, boy!" he said, pointing to the glistening water of the river a few metres away. I smiled at him in gratitude, and dragged my weary body toward the water, plunging in and letting the fresh clean stream wash over me, clean me of the built up grime and rinse my skin. It was good to feel clean, almost normal again, and I remained in the water, paddling and ducking under for quite a while. My bear man sat watching on the bank, smiling and relaxed, observing his puppy frolic. Finally, I clambered back out of the creek, and without a word or a sign from him, I went straight to where he sat, squatted down on my haunches before him, and waited as he re-attached the collar around my neck, and the wrist and ankle cuffs of leather to my limbs. He added a leather cockring, firm but not too tight, around the base of my cock, and as he finished, gave my rump a playful slap. I grinned up at him, then sat happily next to him, smiling. "Good dog," he said softly, and I smiled again, and instinctively, I leaned forward, and licked my tongue along his arm. He laughed again, and lay back onto the grass relaxing. I curled myself up in a ball at his feet, on the cool grass under the trees, and began to doze. I had become his pet in truth, and I liked the idea. To be continued ... Comments, complaints or compliments? Email me at iainlthr@hotmail.com This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!

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Nifty Archive: take-it-or-leave-it [ Nifty Archive : Gay Male | Bisexual | Lesbian | Trans ] Chronological Directory Listing for take-it-or-leave-it

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Nifty Archive: sailor-slave [ Nifty Archive : Gay Male | Bisexual | Lesbian | Trans ] Chronological Directory Listing for sailor-slave

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Life with Joey: Transition GAY MALE; 'LIFE WITH JOEY: Reunion #6: Transition' {Bud_83@hotmail.com} ( MM, very brief sex) [ 6 | ? ] Date: 8/10/2001 WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidencidental. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man sex, abusive/offensive language. Do not read if you are underage or it is prohibited according to the laws governing the geographical location wherein you dwell. There is brief sex between males; however, this episode will focus on male-male relationships. There are degrading words and erotic situations. There is unsafe sex practiced, and it is not adviced to attempt this in real life. Stories are fun because there are no real ramifications . . . Life isn't as forgiving. All participants are consenting, even if they are fictitious. This isn't in the same vein as the others episodes, but it follows my plot notes. I did explain that there would be times when I would switch genres and tone. This is one of them. Enjoy! Copyright 2001 by Chet English. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished, or reposted without written permission from the author. LIFE WITH JOEY REUNION #6: Transition WHAT WENT ON BEFORE . . . "Joey *, you're too fucking much, man." "Joey *?" Moses finally spat out my name. "You mean Finch's little crack whore is Joey?" As one, our heads swung to look in his direction. It was clear that our heated sex had gotten Finch and Moses worked up as well. Finch was pumping away at Moses' ass even as he cast disparaging words at me. "Fuck you! Moses. I don't do that shit!" It was a lame rejoinder, I know, but I was tired. Cole looked backward over his shoulder at Moses and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, PUSSY! JUST STAND THERE AND TAKE IT UP THE ASS!" That was all it took for Moses to muzzle himself. As I lay there in post-orgasmic bliss, my eyes heavy-lidded, I watched Finch finish his fucking of Moses. Moses was getting red splotches from the exersion and excitement of getting his ass fucked. I started thinking that it was odd that he had such a love-hate relationship with Finch, then I stopped myself when I realized that people in glass houses shouldn't throw bricks. Finch, for lack of any better descriptors, is a fuck machine. If ever there were a person who was the embodiment of sex, it is Finch. Every movement of his well muscled body is grace and power. Every thrust of his hip proves his virility. Even now, in the early Saturday morning hours, having had no sleep in about twenty-four hours, having been sexually active or in a state of arousal for much of the last eight hours, and having both used another and been used as a sex object in that same eight hours, Finch was going strong. He never missed a stroke as he pistoned into Moses Riggs' bubblebutt. His bright red-gold hair lay damp on his forehead. His eyes stabbed into mine as forcefully as he stabbed his cock into Moses' ass. Once again, Finch grinned that damned grin of his and then licked his lips as the pleasure of his sex became more intense. He began to punctuate his jabs with grunts to mark his rhythm. The cadence was erotic and, had I not experienced my own orgasm just moments ago, I would find my penis responding to the sight before me. While Finch is sex personified, Moses is manly perfection. His body is sculpted iron. From an early age, his father, Coach Riggs, trained him to be the perfect jock. And, while I thanked him for that particular bit of foresight, I had to wonder at what it was that the coach had been striving for. While his son was a virtual feast for the eyes, he didn't have his shit together in the personality side. To pinpoint it further, Moses was one mixed up muther. Evidently, a long-time closet sitter, Moses has been engaging in homosexual activities since he was a teenager (by his own admission—sort of—in episode 3). Yet, his projected lifestyle is that of a macho-pussy-hound. Now, since Finch and I had fallen into his clutches, I've come to discover that he has been using his position as a city police officer to bring male suspects/detainees out to this old barn to coerce them into having sex with him. Since they were too embarassed by the acts they performed (or enjoyed them too much) no one formal charges had been brought against him. Moses had set up a little sex-den out in the country where he could live out his dual life. And, so, I am here, watching as Moses is being fucked by Finch. Having had that pleasure once this evening, I know exactly what Moses is feeling at this point. His eyes are downcast, not daring to look into anyone else's face. (Out of fear of seeing his desires reflected maybe?) His grunts of pleasure are nearly pushed from him every time Finch sheaths his cock to the hilt in Moses' chute. I think it highly erotic to hear their grunts of pleasure expell in unison as they fuck. It doesn't take long for Finch and Moses to reach their climaxes. It seems that Cole's and my performance inspired their current session. I hadn't noticed or even thought of their existance while Cole and I were occupied, but now, it was evident that we had sparked off this new fuck. The last I had seen, Moses had been cuffed with his hands behind Finch so that he had his back and ass pressed against Finch's chest and crotch. Finch had been strung up so that his hands were above his head. So, I don't know how he managed it, but he had somehow manuvered his cock into position and slid it home in Moses' more than willing hole. Seeing them in this position sparked another intense pang of jealousy. I know I shouldn't be feeling this for Finch, especially after all the shit he had put me through in school, but as I have stated on many occations, I am a headcase. Even so, the spectacle before me was drawing to its own inevitable climax. Finch fucked and Moses returned the thrusts. The were a, please forgive the pun, well-oiled machine. Add the facts they are physically perfect and oh-too-easy-on-the-eyes handsome to behold with their position and state of captivity (which exposed both vulnerablity and masculinity) and I was deep in the throes of lust! Their primordal thrusts concluded as Moses ejaculated both a stream of semen and an emense cry of sexual release. Quickly followed by Finch's internal release up Moses' ass and his own exclamations of delivery. A state of sexual satiation suffused the silence of the old barn as the four of us slowly decended from our libidinous highs. Breathing and pulse rates returned to normal; blood flow resumed its normal course; bodys began to feel the post-coital lethargy imposed by nature. One of the first laws of physics learned is that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. We had climbed to the pinnacle of pleasure through intimate physical activity, now we had to pay for it by sinking to the depths of propitiated physical inactivity. Cole lay beside me, gently stroking my body with his strong hands for fifteen minutes. Then, breaking the "golden moment", he announced that he and Moses had to get back to their respective stations. Their shifts were nearing their ends. Moses merely lifted his head from where he had been leaning back against Finch's shoulder. Finch was looking over at Cole and I on the cot, his face an unreadable mask. Not moving from my position, I grabbed Cole's hand as it rubbed my stomach and asked, "What are Finch and I going to do about clothes?" Cole looked over at Moses who had a sudden sheepish look on his face. "You brought them out here naked? What the fuck were you think . . . ." Cole's voice trailed off before he finished the obvious statement. "Where did he pick you two up?" Cole directed his question to me. "We were still in the 4-H building, . . . uhm . . . ." I trailed off, not knowing how to proceed. Cole just looked at me and then nodded. "Alright, so your clothes are there?" "Yeah, . . . ," I began. "But . . . ?" Cole lead me on when it appeared I was withholding something. "Well, my clothes were sort of torn up . . . ," again, I trailed off. "Torn up?" Cole stared intently at me, then, thankfully, offered his own answer. "I guess it would have been with all of us grabbing at the stuff you were throwing." I let the "all of us" slide and remained slient, hoping that Cole would accept that as agreement with him. It seemed to work. "Oh," I interjected, "Ray was going home to get me some of his clothes to wear. He was going to meet me back at the building around 4 or so. He's either going to be worried or really pissed." "Or both," Finch supplied. Cole looked over at Finch at that point. "What about you, where are your clothes? You weren't stripping . . . ." Cole left his statement unfinished. "Finch was buck-naked and fucking Joey's ass is where his clothes are!" Moses supplied. "I caught them fucking on the floor in the john!" Cole's head swung to look at Moses, then quickly over to me. Not wanting to meet his gaze, I looked at the floor. Cole's stare never left me as he continued, "You caught them fucking in the restroom?" "Yeah! Funniest damned thing you ever saw! Finch was standing and had Joey on his . . . ," Moses rambled. "I don't want to hear it!" Cole cut him off. "I guess it's a stupid question to ask if you called it in." Moses' mouth hung, suspended and open, "Uhh, . . . ." Cole just shook his head. "So, What we've got here is a situation. I take it no one here is going to go anywhere with any of this, are you?" He continued staring at me and then directed his attention to Finch. We each shook our heads to show the negative. "You fucked up, Moses!" Cole continued. "Damn, if any of this got out, it would mean our badges, our reputations, . . . Fuck! Near-abouts every damned thing we've got would be ruined! Ray isn't stupid. If he got anxious, he might have called this in. We could be fucked!" I could see where Cole was thinking this out. Ray was a witness, of sorts. Cole didn't know the whole story, yet. I had to spill the story so that things wouldn't escalate. "Cole," I got his attention, "there's more . . . ." I told him what had happened. I explained the events as best as I could. I assured him that no one was going to talk about any of this. He still didn't look pleased when I had finished. "So, you were assaulted . . . raped . . . by four men, then had consensual sex with one of the assailants, were caught in the act by an officer of the law, abducted by said officer and brought here, where I found you . . . ." he ended, shaking his head. "Un-fucking-believable!" I wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Cole put his hand beneath my chin and forced me to face him. "Are you alright? Are you sure you don't want to press charges?" I was taken-aback by his concern. "No, how could I? It would drag way too many people down. Besides, I did go along with it after it started. As they say, you can't rape the willing." Cole looked at me, the concern still there. He got up and began dressing. "Hey, Cole, untie me so I can get dressed too." Moses said. Cole turned slightly, keeping his head down as he buttoned his shirt, then turned back, ignoring Moses. "C'm-on! You gotta let me loose!" Moses began to panic. Cole just let him lose it. When he finished dressing, he walked over to where Finch and Moses were strung up and without any warning, punched one and then the other in the face. They were clearly dazed and blood sprouted from Finch's split lip. Moses would have a shiner for certain. Neither man dared say anything. Cole stormed over to me and I thought about drawing up my arms to protect my face, but decided against it. Cole reached me and put out his hand to help me stand. I accepted and was lifted to my feet more than anything of my own doing. "Joey, I can't tell you what to do, but I think you're making a mistake." "Thanks for your concern, but think about this logically. If I say anything, it would ruin you AND ME, along with the others, as well as seriously fuck with our families' reputations, and all of that. I'm not going to put everybody through that just because things got out of hand for a while." "'GOT OUT OF HAND FOR A WHILE'! Joey, you've got a flare for understatement." Cole's surprise still had him in its grip. "Cole, it started out bad, but got better. Look, I was a willing participant, as you fully know." I let the obvious sink in. Slowly, Cole's temper began to fade. He realized that what I was saying was true. If anything came out, it wouldn't just ruin the seven men, it would destroy our families as well. "Cole, I could have put a stop to a lot of what went on tonight. I didn't. You, Moses, Finch, me, we all made decisions here tonight that sort of make us un-easy allies. You can't report Moses without incriminating yourself. Moses definately isn't going to say anything, as it appears he's been doing this for a while. Finch can't say anything because of how this all began. And, I'm not going to say a word about it. There is no way." Cole continued to look at me, but released my chin from where he had been holding it. He sighed, "You're sure about this then?" I nodded. I could tell he was struggling with some inner demon, but that is a battle he has to fight. Cole turned back to Moses and Finch at that point, "We all owe Joey our fucking lives! You assholes had better remember that!" He proceeded to release Moses and then Finch. They remained cowed and Finch moved over toward me. As he did, Cole moved to block him. Not about to pass this mountain of a man, Finch looked around him at me. "Joey, I'm sorry about all of this . . . . I . . . I . . . . Thanks for . . . ." He couldn't go on, but it was clear that he was working through something as well. Shit was definately changing. Moses, I noticed, kept his head down and quickly dressed. When he had finished, he turned off the lantern and moved over toward the doors to leave. "HOLD IT!" Cole's voice was unavoidable, his intent unmistakable. "YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY AS WELL!" Moses stopped as if someone had nailed his shoe to the floor. He turned slowly to look at Cole then over at me. "Thanks, Joey." His words came out like those of a child forced to make an apology, but clearly not apologetic. Cole didn't let it slide. "YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD! JOEY COULD NAIL YOUR SPINELESS ASS TO THE WALL AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS "thanks, joey" LIKE SOME FUCKING THREE-YEAR-OLD! YOU ARE FUCKING PATHETIC! NOW, GET YOUR ASS OVER THERE AND APOLOGIZE LIKE A MAN AND SHOW SOME FUCKING RESPECT!" Moses clearly didn't like being talked to in this manner, but he did as he was told. "Thank you, Joey. I'm sorry that I did anything to hurt you, and you're a great guy for taking it so well; I owe you." Well, what did I expect? It wasn't exactly something one can really set right with words. Cole looked at me and I half-smiled at him, grateful for his efforts. He nodded at me and then said, "THAT'S BETTER! NOW, YOU HAD BETTER REMEMBER THIS FOR A LONG FUCKING TIME, ASSFUCK!" He readjusted his tone and spoke once more to me, "Joey, you and Finch (he didn't hide his anger when he said Finch) stay here and I'll get some clothes for you and bring them back. There'd be no way to take you to town without risking someone seeing you and asking way too many questions." "Okay, we'll stay here and wait; I mean, what else can we do?" He accepted that and with a wave, pushed Moses toward the door, "LET'S GO, FUCKER!" They left the barn, and I realized that Finch and I were alone again. The silence was harsh in my ears. Finch had not moved from where Cole had stopped him. I stared at him as he stood in the now shadow-filled barn. The little light that there was was streaming through the cracks between some of the planks of wood which formed the sides of the barn. In the grayness broken occationally by golden dust motes, Finch still caused my stomach to tighten. I was standing beside the cot, Finch was ten feet away and still looking at the door where Moses and Cole had made there exit. I guess he felt me staring at him again, or else his own thoughts returned to the notion that we were here alone. He didn't make a move, he only stared. I wasn't comfortable with his gaze, so I broke contact and looked down. "Don't . . . ," he began, "don't look away." I moved my eyes back to his. I couldn't make out his features as clearly, but it seemed that his stare was even more intense. "I . . . I want to look at you." I had never heard this tone from Finch. He seemed unsure, it was not a tone either of us seemed comfortable with. "I want you to look at me when I look at you. Will you?" I went goosebumps at his request. This was a definate turning point. Whistles, buzzers, flares, nitroglycerin . . . any one could have gone off and I wouldn't have noticed. That electric jolt was back, leaping between our eyes. It only ceased when Finch broke contact to caress my body with his eyes. I kept my eyes on him, watching him look at me. He made his way from my face, down my neck and shoulders, over my chest and abdomen, lingering at my crotch, then again moving lower down my legs to my feet. "Turn around for me." It was a husky whisper, filled with emotions I couldn't begin to decipher. I slowly turned my back to him. I felt totally exposed and vulnerable in that moment. I imagined several scenarios in my mind of what was going on behind me: Finch being turned on; Finch setting me up for some new fall; Finch and Finch and Finch and Finch . . . each idea passing quickly from desire to paranoia and back again. I jumped slightly when I heard the floorboard creak behind me and felt his rough finger tips sliding up my arms. Then he was there against me, breathing heavily in my ear. Running his fingers gently up and down my arms, whispering . . . . "I meant what I said . . . ." I waited. "I meant what I said about being sorry . . . ," again he paused. Again, I waited in silence. "And, about having made plans . . . permanantly," he finished. I must have taken a deep inhalation because he drew stiff against me and then started to push away. I quickly reached behind me and pulled him back. "Don't . . . ," it was my turn to pause. He drew me hard against him and his arms encircled me. I turned to face him. Before I was completely chest to chest, his lips were on mine. He squeezed me so tightly it forced the air from me. I returned the embrace and gripped him as strongly. Our mouths began to slowly open to one another as our kiss grew deeper until it was hopeless and we had to release to catch our breaths. We stood mutely staring into each other's eyes, still holding the other tightly. Although intensely erotic, we remained flaccid. Finch rotated us and began to sit, pulling medown on the cot with him. We didn't stop at a seated position, however, and continued until we were lying entwined—a mass of arms and legs. I'm not sure when we fell asleep, nor what caused me to awaken, but when I awoke, Finch and I were still wrapped in one another's arms. He looked angelic in repose (yes, a clich�, but true nonetheless.) I was so caught up in the sight and feel of him that it only slowly dawned on me that he has watching me watch him. I gave a sheepish grin at being caught. He laughed a rich laugh that shook us both. Then, although I knew it would end the moment, I said that I needed to releave myself. He released me, reluctantly, and I moved to get up. Suddenly, he bolted up-right and said he had to go too. So, together, we made our way to the door of the barn. I peeked outside and saw that it was definately later in the day, mid-afternoon or later. I wondered what had happened to Cole and our clothes. I briefly thought that Cole might be in trouble, but discounted that because there would probably have been someone sent to get Finch and me were there any problem. The road was deserted; and, if you have ever been out in the country on a gravel road, you would know that you can hear any cars or trucks coming long before its driver could see you. Emboldened by this knowledge, I grabbed Finch's hand pulled him toward a row of tall bushes so we could piss. He dropped my hand and put his arm around my shoulder instead, so I put mine around his as well. It seemed "right" as we walked this way. It was masculine and easy and full of cameraderie. However, I must admit to being somewhat taken-aback when Finch suggested, "Let's hold each other's cocks as we piss." Actually, I was a bit more than surprised. It was such a juvenile thing to suggest, but I laughingly agreed to the idea. So, there we were, naked as the day we were born, pissing and holding each other's dicks while doing so. Finch finished first and I shook him to make certain the last drops fell to the ground. "You're playing with it," Finch grinned his grin at me. "What?" I stammered. "My dick, you shook it more than twice. You're playing with it." At that point, I finished my own piss and he began shaking my penis. We laughed, but neither of us stopped shaking the other's dick. The inevitable was occuring, our dicks began filling with blood. We continued our handjobs for a few more minutes until we heard the distinct sound of gravel being displaced by an approaching vehicle. We looked at one another and Finch said, "I'll race you!" No sooner had he said it than he let go of my stiff prick, bumped me with his hip to throw me off balance, and began a dash for the barn. "You shit!" I exclaimed and shot after him. We laughed like a couple of kids as we hit the barn doors together. I ran track as a sprinter/hurdler and field man (high jump, long jump, and pole vault); Finch was a miler and also a field man (long jump and high jump), so it was no problem for me to catch him. We barely got inside before the truck zoomed by, kicking up dust. We made our way back to the cot, whereupon I noticed that there were two sets of clothes neatly piled on top of a plastic box beside the cot. "Fuck!" I thought I had only thought it, but, evidently, it got passed the censors. "What?" Came Finch's question to my explative. He followed my gaze, but didn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary. "The clothes are here," I said. "So?" "So, that means that Cole was here . . . ," I continued, lamely. "So, . . . ?" Finch wasn't seeing my point. "So, . . . ? So it means that he saw us. You know, . . . together." Finch stared at me like I had another head growing from my shoulders. "So what." He shrugged and, again, pulled me toward the cot. Not to be deturred, I continued, "So, he SAW us TOGETHER!" I repeated. Finch was getting a bit annoyed at this point, "SO WHAT! Cole has already SEEN us naked!" He looked at me steadily, then added as an after-thought, "AND HAVING SEX! Granted, it wasn't with each other, but . . . . Damn, Joey, he made you suck his dick and then he fucked you, among other things!" I thought I detected an note of bitterness in his voice at that last statement. "Yeah," I said meekly, "but, that was different." "Different? How different?" I had confused him. "Well, that was sex. He saw us, you know," I struggled on how best to say it. "No, . . . Tell me." "He saw us lying together on the cot . . . ." Finch just looked at me and nodded. "He saw us all wrapped up together and NAKED ON THE COT!" I managed to say as I freaked out. "So? So Cole saw us sleeping naked on the cot. So, what!" Finch shrugged again. "So, he'll . . . ," I stopped myself before I said it, luckily. Finch's expression said I should go on. "Never mind," I tried to get out of it gracefully. "No! Say it. He'll . . . ?" "I was going to say, 'He'll think we're fags,' but then I realized how lame that is. Thanks for making me say it out loud!" I said rather petulantly. I could tell that Finch was enjoying my discomforture. His grin widened and he suddenly burst out laughing at me. I couldn't help but join in. He wrapped his arms around me and wrestled me about as we laughed. Finally, he pulled me to the cot and there were no more objections, no more recriminations, no more inhibitions as we began exploring one another in earnest. Okay, this sort of flew out, so NOW, I'm going to take a brief hiatus from writing. Rest assured there are at least three more installments coming as soon as I can get them out.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/take-it-or-leave-it/take-it-or-leave-it-1

Date: Thu, 18 Jul 2002 13:26:02 +1000 From: Iain Robertson Subject: Take It Or Leave It - Ch 1 Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!! This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk. This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com. Take It or Leave It Chapter 1 Iainlthr@hotmail.com Crunnnchh! Suddenly I was jolted out of the thoughts buzzing around in my head about sales targets, budgets and stock problems. The car came to a grinding halt and a sickening feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. The noise from the motor had sounded very serious, and the way the engine died seemed to spell a permanent stop. "Fuck!" I declared loudly to the empty land around me. This whole trip had been a nightmare from start to finish, and now I was finally heading back to the city, this had to happen. I popped the bonnet and looked at the engine with the forlorn hope of someone who knew nothing about mechanics. The last town had been a good three hours back, and according to my map, the next outpost of civilization was at least a hundred kilometres ahead. "Fuck!" I shouted again, and kicked the driver's side front tyre, hard. It didn't fix anything, but it made me feel a little better. I reached for my mobile phone, but I knew before I even looked at it that there would be no signal out here. Why had I agreed to do this godforsaken run through the deserted plains of far western New South Wales? The few pitiful sales I had managed would hardly cover the cost of the trip and I was going to have hell to pay when I got back. I conveniently forgot that I had volunteered to take this trip, seeing it as a chance to get out of the city for a couple of weeks. I looked back along the dirt road I had travelled, then forward where it stretched before me, straight as an arrow between low hills. Nothing. Empty. I hadn't passed another vehicle in either direction all day. "Fuck!" In desperation, I looked about me. I don't know what I thought I was going to find, but there was nothing there. It dawned on me that I was probably in a serious situation. It was hot and getting hotter, and I had no shade and very little food or drink. Resolving to do something other than just sitting and waiting, I locked my work bags and paperwork in the boot of the car, grabbed the three-quarter full bottle of mineral water from the front seat, and started walking toward the hills I could see about 5 km further ahead on the road. I was reasonably fit, and okay to walk for the moment. After all, I worked out three times a week in the gym at home, I was young and healthy, and surely someone would come along eventually. The hills I had spotted turned out to be closer to 10 km away, and by the time I reached them I was covered in sweat, my clothes dirty from the dust of the road, and most of the water I had brought with me was gone. On top of that, my very expensive dress shoes were rubbing against my ankles and starting to develop noticeable soft spots on the sole. The hills offered no sign of hope or assistance, and as I reached the top, all I could see in front of me was the long straight road, stretching kilometres to the horizon with not a sign of movement anywhere. Resigned, I started downhill, but before I had gone 100 metres my heart jumped. Off to the left a set of wheel ruts headed across country, disappearing over the side of the rise. It was hardly civilization, but to me eyes those marks meant salvation. Hopefully a farmhouse or cabin not too far away. I set off along the trail with renewed determination and energy. That determination faded as I trudged along the dirt path of the tyre tracks. I was tired, thirsty. My feet were killing me, my fancy shoes almost disintegrating under me. I had lost track of how far I had gone, but had been walking for hours in the searing heat, taking a break every now and then under the occasional tree that grew not too far from the path before setting out again. I began to wonder if the tracks led anywhere at all, and my mind drifted back to the hassles of work. All the problems I had with my job didn't seem so bad now, when I seriously started to wonder if I was going to die out here, my body rotting away until someone found the bare bones in months or even years to come. As I stumbled along, my head down and lost in morbid thoughts, I didn't realise that the path I was following was climbing toward a low ridge. As I reached the top and began back down the other side, I tripped on the uneven ground and fell to my knees. Covered in dirt and sweat, exhausted from my trek through the fierce heat of the day, I began to sob in despair and hopelessness. I wanted to just lay down and die there in the heat and the dirt. Forcing myself up onto my hands and knees, I lifted my head, and saw paradise. At least that was how it seemed. Below me was a small valley between the surrounding hills. A gentle stream flowed quietly along the valley floor, and on a flat piece of land not far from the water sat a small stone cottage, surrounded by a well-tilled garden of vegetables and fruit trees. Picking myself up I ran to the house, surprised to find as I neared it that it was bigger than I had thought at first. I reached the place, scrambled up the steps to the only door and crashed my fist against the wood, calling out as I did "Hello, help me please!" The door swung open to reveal a mountain of a man. I had to look up to his face as he towered over me, dark and hairy, his eyes intense as he looked at me with suspicion. "What do you want?" he demanded. "My car's broken down. I need a phone, to call for help, I've been walking for hours in the heat, I thought I was going to die." I babbled out at him. "No phone here. Clear off. Leave me alone. Don't want no-one hangin' around." He began to close the door. "Please," I begged, "I need help. I can't get back to my car by myself. I don't have any food or water. Please, don't just leave me." I started to get desperate, sure I would die without assistance. He opened the door again, and stepped out, making me backtrack. As I did I stumbled on the step, and fell backward to lie on the ground, looking up at him, panic in my eyes. He stood there above me, his eyes assessing me, sizing me up almost. "Serves you right for coming out of the city without proper supplies. Typical fuckin' useless city poofter. Should just leave you." He spat the words out, regarding me with undisguised contempt. "Please ..." I whined up at him. "Why? What's in it for me?" "Anything you want" I gasped. "I'll do anything, please just help me!" He looked again at that comment, an evil smile crossing his face. "Anything? That's a pretty generous offer, and very brave when you don't know what I might ask, pussy boy!" Something in his voice made me look up into his eyes. They glinted with hidden thoughts, and I began to wonder what he had in mind. In other circumstances, I would have found a hulking beast like this attractive, but here and now I wasn't so sure. His hand slid down his chest, across his stomach to come to rest at his groin, where he plainly and brazenly gripped his obviously sizeable cock. "You want my help? You're gonna have to earn it, boy. I could use some entertainment, some fun. Haven't had any `company' for a long while out here. Three days, as my slave, and I'll get you safely back to town." I looked up at him again, and thought about my options. I could try to walk back to the road, but who knew how far that was, and I was in no state to walk very far at all. The track I had been following stopped here, so there was no chance of anyone passing by. But if I agreed, it meant three days here, and I could only guess at what he had in mind, although the general idea was fairly obvious. I looked at him again, seeing him in a different light. He was tall and thick, muscled and fit. I thought about being his slave, submitting to his whims and probably being fucked and used for his sexual pleasure. Suddenly, the idea was not so bad after all. "What'll it be, pussy?" he mocked. "My slave, or get going. Take it or leave it. You might even like it!" With that he laughed. "Okay," I said, "I'm yours for three days. What's your name?" "No names, boy. If I talk, then I'm talking to you. And you will call me `Sir'. Now get those useless fancy clothes off, and take yourself down to the creek and wash." He gestured toward the water close by the cottage, then abruptly turned on his heel and went inside, leaving me alone. I looked around, feeling self conscious, then realised there was no point, there was no one for kilometres in any direction. I stripped naked, placing my clothing in a pile on the verandah, and padded gingerly toward the stream. The water was clear and cool, but not too cold, and wonderfully refreshing after the dust and heat of the day, and I was soon fully immersed, rubbing myself down and washing away the dust. I relaxed in the freshness, enjoying myself, until I heard his voice booming out from the cabin, only about a hundred metres away. "Enough! Get up here, now!" Quickly I climbed up the bank, and trotted back to the house, still dripping wet and trying to shake off the excess moisture. He came out to meet me, a towel in his hand. Without a word, he rubbed me down, examining my body more closely as he did. Involuntarily, my cock began to harden with anticipation. "Bit scrawny, but you'll do. Could use some more meat on you, but that's the city life!" he murmured. Seeing the beginning of my erection, he snorted. "Bit early for that, son. I'll let you know when I'm ready." His dismissal deflated both my ego and my urge, and my prick returned to flaccidity fast. "Inside!" he commanded, and I obeyed. The cottage consisted of a reasonably large open area which combined as kitchen and living room, with two doors opening from it. Both were open, and through one I could see a bed, through the other a storage area stacked with boxes and shelves full of books. As I entered, he followed me, his hands going to my shoulders and pushing me down onto my knees. "A slave should be properly attired," he stated. I nodded agreement. "Yes, Sir." With that he stood behind me and fitted a leather collar around my neck, fastening it in place with a small padlock which he snapped closed. I was startled by the feel, but accepted it, promising myself to abide by our agreement. From the collar, a length of chain dangled, the other end of the chain firmly in his hand. With the collar in place he stepped in front of me. "Hands!" he said, and I held mine up to him. On each wrist he fixed leather cuffs, buckled tightly in place, over the cuffs went metal handcuffs, ensuring my hands were disabled in front of me. Similar leather restraints went around my ankles, joined by a metal bar so that if I were to get to my feet I could only hobble slowly about the room. "Hmmphh!" he muttered as my restraints were fitted in place. "Always wanted a dog. Pity it's not a better specimen, but you'll do for the time being." With that he tore a couple of pieces of meat from a leg on the bench, and dropped them on a plate in front of me. "Eat!" he said, sitting and watching. With my hands cuffed, all I could do was bend forward and bite at the tough cold meat as it sat on the plate. I chewed as best I could, forcing myself to swallow both the food and my dignity. I had agreed to this in order to secure his help, and I was going to see it through. As I finished, he looked at me, and I saw approval in his eyes. "Thirsty?" he asked, and I nodded. Another bowl was placed on the floor before me, filled with clear water. Again, the only way I could get any of it was to sink my face into the water and drink at it like a dog, which I did. Sitting back up, I tried to lick my lips, to clear my face of the remaining droplets. He smiled, patting me on the head. "Good dog," he said, "I think I'm gonna enjoy these next few days." Laughing softly at his own joke, he stood and casually stripped his clothes off. I watched, fascinated as his body was exposed. He was massive, hairy and tanned. His arms were thick and powerful, his legs like tree-trunks. His chest was chiselled and taut, and as the light top was thrown to the floor I saw his nipples were pierced, set through with heavy silver rings. The sight of him like this, stripping before me, was hot, erotic, and I began to develop an erection, stirred on by the pure masculine sexuality of this mountain of man who obviously intended that I would be his toy for the next few days. Clad now only in a pair of loose shorts, he laughed again when he saw my hardening cock. "You are eager, aren't you, pussy?" he said evilly. "I'll have to do something about that." He left me there, kneeling on the floor, and went into the third room of his cottage, rummaging amongst some things there, out of my view. When he returned, he had a thin piece of leather, like a shoe string. Commanding me to sit up, he knelt and quickly wound the thing around the base of my shaft, tightly, and I felt the blood constricting as he did. The same piece of leather was long enough for him to keep winding, so that he also separated my balls from my cock and from my body, forcing them down into my nutsack. The ache began almost immediately, a dull internal pain which somehow seemed to intensify my erection. Satisfied with his handiwork, he stood back in front of me, so I could see him clearly in his entirety. Easily visible, and becoming more obvious by the second, was the growing bulge which tented the material of his shorts. He grinned again, and said to himself, "Yeah, gonna enjoy this a whole lot." Shucking the shorts down, and stepping out of them, he revealed himself to me in his full glory. I gasped. His cock was huge, at least ten inches long and thick as a cucumber. And pierced! A silver Prince Albert ring took pride of place through that massive cockhead, exiting his piss slit and curving around to enter the skin again just below the V point cut of his glans. I was excited and scared. I had seen PA's before, but never had sex with anyone who had one. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. His slap caught me on the side of the face. Not hard enough to injure, or even cause serious pain, but enough to teach me a lesson. "You'll speak when I tell you to. And I won't tell you to. Understand?" "Yes, Sir." His hand raised again, as I bit my lip, and nodded vigorously. "Good. Remember that, shit head." He stepped forward, pulling at the chain attached to my neck. "Now, since you've been a good dog, here's a nice fleshy bone for you to chew on." And with that he pulled my face towards his huge, throbbing cock. My eyes wide with amazement, I approached him as best I could, shuffling on my knees. I opened my lips wide as I tried to swallow him. Licking and slurping in an attempt to cover his meat with saliva and make it easier to accept, I bobbed at the head of his cock. The metal of his PA was cool on my tongue, and I licked around the points where the ring pierced his flesh. I suckled at his dong like a baby on a teat, coating him with mucous as I dived little by little, further onto the massive pole. He became irritated with my slow progress, his hands falling to the back of my head, and he began to force me further onto himself, shoving his raging prong into my gullet. I tried desperately not to gag as the thick fleshy rod filled my throat, the ring of metal scraping at the back of my neck. He tasted musky yet clean, and I slowly began to accept him into my raw mouth as he started to fuck my face, firm and determined. I learnt quickly to grab breaths of air as he pulled back, and to hold that breath as he sank himself into me again. As I became accustomed to his rhythm, my cock swelled and ached, the blood pumped and constrained by the leather strap around me. I slurped on him, licked and swallowed his weapon, and suddenly knew I was enjoying this. I was horny! I wanted more as I became the aggressor, attacking his meat and sucking on him, trying to take all of him as much as I possibly could. My balls ached, but the ache only served to intensify my lust, the pain of restriction adding to the sensations racking my body as I knelt before this man-bear and serviced him like an animal. His body tensed at my continued attack, and I knew he was close. I dived again, determined to milk his juice from him, and his hands remained at my head guiding me down onto that rampant prong and shoving my face into his groin. I felt him shudder, and tasted the salty precum as his passion grew. His cock began to expand even further and I thought it would choke me, but instead he reefed my face away from him at the last moment, and held me tightly, a few centimetres away from him as his orgasm struck. Searing white hot globs of cum spewed from him, splashing onto my face, spattering over my eyes and down my nose. Another burst erupted from his cock and my chest was sprayed with his jism, the sticky essence clinging to my skin. He pushed me to the floor, so I lay flat below him, and his hands gripped his huge tool, wringing the last of his ejaculate from himself over my prone form. Spent for the moment, he stood there as the final droplets hung from his still hard cock in long strands down onto my greasy, slimed gut. He laughed with approval as I looked at him, desperate for my own release. My cock throbbed with need and filled with blood. My balls rolled and ached for release, and he sat, watching and grinning. "Come here, dog boy!" he commanded. Quickly I shuffled onto my knees and inched towards him. "Good dog," he said as he patted my head, resting my chin on his knee. Incredibly, I was pleased! I enjoyed his approval. So close to him again, I could smell the musky scent of him, could feel the heat of his skin against me. Impulsively, without thinking, desperate for release, I sidled closer so that my aching cock was against his leg. Feeling the heat of contact, I rubbed against him, trying to bring myself off. Slicked and covered in his cum, I actually rutted against his leg like a dog. The friction of his hairy skin against my rampant needy dong was exciting, was good, but it was not enough with the leather tied tightly around my nuts, and I collapsed in frustration. He laughed a hearty bellowing laugh at me then. "Excellent, perfect, a true dog!" he declared. Lifting me by the arms, he made me stand, and he removed the binding thong wrapped around me. The relief, the sudden rush of blood back into deprived veins was painful in itself, but as I gasped, he took hold of my cock in one hand and flailed at it hard. It took no more than a few strokes before my testicles exploded and my cock twitched. As I moaned and humped at air, he gripped me harder, then aimed my cock into a glass tumbler and released me, capturing my cum in the container as he directed the way I was to be allowed to ejaculate. I shuddered to a finish, grateful for the release he had provided, and slumped back to my knees. He stood over me as I did, and poured the contents of the cup, my essence, onto his cock, allowing the excess to fall onto my own body again. Standing astride me, he waved his still semi-erect weapon in my face again. "Here, pussy boy, I've spilt something on my cock." He pointed at the long fleshy pole dripping with the creamy gobs of my jism. "Clean it up!" Doing as I was told I eagerly licked at him, slurping all around his cockhead and up and down his shaft, swallowing my own juice as I licked it from him and cleaned his dick for him. As I did, my skin tingled, my nerves alive with sensations. I could feel that my own erection had not subsided as usual, but was still very much alive as my cock throbbed. My attention to his penis, licking and cleaning it, had resulted in him getting harder again. His prick had never really gone soft, but now it grew from semi-hardness to rampant, throbbing weapon yet again. I worked my tongue up and along his shaft, closing my teeth over the metal of his PA and trying to pull at it gently. When I began to open my lips, ready to swallow him yet again, he backed off, lifting my head away from his pulsing meat. Not speaking, he reached down to my chest, taking each of my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "Pity," he murmured, "these tits should be pierced and ringed, they'd make better sport if they were." Still, he pinched tightly at the nubs of skin, sending tingling pain shooting through my chest. I did my best to muffle a yell, as he twisted and pulled at the hard brown skin again. The more I winced, the harder he tweaked and pulled at me, yet the longer it went on, the less the pain bothered me. Mixing with that pain now, gradually outweighing it, was the most intense pleasure. It was as if my nipples were connected directly to my cock, so that as he punished them, shooting bolts of intense sensation stabbed my chest and made my cock throb and twitch with growing need. He watched me carefully as my face showed the change from pain to enjoyment, studied me as I began to gasp with the increasing delight of ecstatic joy at the sensations shooting through my body. "Shame I don't have more time, or didn't find you when I was back in the city. You have real potential, boy. With the right training you could have been a damn good slave." I said nothing, yet although my rational mind said I should be insulted or demeaned by his words, instead I felt a real pleasure, a serious pride, that I could please him, gain the approval of this powerful man who had control of me. Releasing his hands from my now throbbing tits, he waved his massive cock in front of my face, droplets of pre-cum escaping from his slit and spattering on my eyes and cheeks. I tried to lick them off, to taste his essence again. As I did, he took his mighty prong in his hand and slapped it against the side of my face. The tingling of my skin was like fire to me, the solid hardness of him like the steel of his piercing as his meat struck me. I opened my mouth, ready for him again, but he stood up over me. "You want this bone, dog? Fine, but it's not your mouth that you'll eat it with." He laughed again, and pushed my head down to the floor, kicking my legs forward so that I was doubled over, my face on the ground and my arse pointing high into the air. He knelt behind me, quickly snapping a leather cockring around the base of my shaft, tight but not as constricting as the leather thong he had used before. Then he stood again, and a slap from his bare hand landed on my butt cheek. I jumped, but said nothing, and he murmured again, "good dog!" I heard some movement, and felt the coolness of a gel substance being spread down the crack of my arse and around my twitching, puckering hole. With one finger he eased the lube into me, massaging it through the muscles of my sphincter and opening my chute as he did. A second finger followed as he explored me, stretched my hole in readiness for what was to come. I relaxed as I could, allowing him easy access through the upturned target of my anus. A third finger was introduced, and I squirmed with a little discomfort as he forced the three digits into me, bending his fingers within to massage the inner ring of muscle and coax my body open even further. Suddenly the fingers were withdrawn. I gasped at the sudden emptiness, only to feel the pressure of cold steel against me. He had positioned himself so that he stood astride me, his feet by my knees as he hovered over me. My arse sticking up in the air was directly below him, and he pushed his cock down so that it aimed directly at the inviting pink rosebud that was my rectum. Bending his knees to lower himself, he nudged the metal of his PA up against the tender skin of my arse. I shuddered with both anticipation and uncertainty. I had never before been fucked by someone with a Prince Albert, and had no idea whether it would be painful, or more difficult than a `normal' coupling. With his huge dripping dong in one hand, he gradually lowered himself so that he was directly above me and against me. I felt the silver against my anus, and tried to relax, willing myself to open for him. He moved his cock back and forward against the twitching muscle, easing the metal into my arse, guiding it through the resisting sphincter. I tried to push back, to expand my hole to him. The metal ring embedded in his throbbing meat edged into my anus, the unfamiliar shape and unyielding solidity of the steel causing a surprisingly pleasant sensation as it slid within my rectum. Following hard behind the silver, his large round cockhead stretched me, forcing my resisting muscles apart as he prodded irresistibly into my empty cavern. After the stretching from his fingers, and the anticipation of having his pierced dong enter me, I was amazed to find that there was very little pain with this slow assault upon me. Discomfort was a better description, as the thick turgidity of his pole held my protesting anus wide and the long veiny shaft began to slide through my ring of muscle. There was a moment of stretching ache with the beginning of his journey, and then suddenly the entire throbbing head of his manhood was inside, my sphincter closing around the lip of his glans and gripping at him. I flexed myself at that point, clenched against the invading enormity, and relaxed again, accepting his insertion and allowing the tendrils of pleasure to make their way through my nerve endings. I moaned softly at the growing delight and he steadied himself for a moment, his hands gripping my hips as he hunched over me. Suddenly, without warning, he dropped his weight down onto me, shoving his long rod all the way into my body. My face was crushed into the floor, my rectum stabbed by the length of him as the metal ring in his cock scraped its way up my bowel and dragged across my prostate. Involuntarily, I let out a long "unnnhhhhh" as the combination of pain and pleasure assaulted my senses. He slapped my butt with his open hand as he dropped onto me, his huge hairy balls crashing into the orbs of my cheeks. "Shut up, pig, and take it the way you deserve it!" he hissed. Using his knees as leverage, and placing his hands on my back, he started to lift and drop, the thick shaft of his masculinity riding in and out of my anus. With each up and down movement the PA scraped and pulled at my innards, pulling and shoving across my prostate and sending shuddering pangs of almost unbearable pleasure racing through me. As my arse clenched tightly around him with each withdrawal, he used his not inconsiderable weight to pound that gigantic caber back into me. The sheer force of his fucking was enormous, the humping shove of each entry impaling my ravaged arse onto his huge dagger. I moaned and gasped with the uncontrollable delight of his attack, writhed under him as he thrust himself down into me and took possession of my body. The crunching power of his fucking drove me into rapture. My gut felt like it was being skewered and torn, but the pleasure it wrought was inconceivable. I huffed and gasped, tried desperately to hold back against the rising passion, but my entire body tingled with delight. Every nerve was electrified, sending messages of twitching urgency to my brain. My very being was concentrated on the rampaging battering ram which drove into my arse, pulling back to crash in again, and my body wanted more! I ached, trembled, needed to have all of him within me. As my emotions surrendered to the assault, I lost control and my balls contracted, spewing their load of juice into my swollen aching cock. I erupted, long streamers of white jizz flying from me to soak the floor as my arse constricted around the source of my joy, the giant log of manflesh that pierced my being. I came, long and strong, a torrent of ejaculate pouring from me, and still he shoved and grunted, fucked and humped at me. My orgasm slowed, eased and finally stopped but the bear above me continued unabated, fucking harder, faster, more furiously into my ripped and tender chute. Sweat dropped from him, searing my back as he hunched and pounded, lifted and dropped again into my arse. His breathing quickened, became gasps as he hissed and snorted with exertion. His tempo increased so much that he was a piston, his weapon a blur as he pumped in and out and he raged towards climax. With a roaring bellow of capitulation, he reached the edge of the abyss and plunged over. "FUUUCK, YESSS!!!" he screamed, his body crashing down one last time as his entire weight fucked his pole into my body and his frame came to rest hard against my back. I swore I could feel his cock swell within me, grow to fill me completely, and then it jerked and exploded. Powerful spasms shook him as he emptied the contents of his nuts into me, filled my body with his essence. No longer moving, he shuddered against me as his mighty weapon shot its load of mancum deep into my bowels, drowned my innards in creamy jism. As the waves of passion slowly receded from him, he lifted away from me once again, pulling himself from my gripping muscle with a greedy slurping wetness. Letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, he slumped down, pushing me forward so that I was now prone on the ground in front of him, and he fell crashing onto me, wiping his slimy, cum slaked cock over my lower back before he covered me with his body. "Fucken' hell, boy, I needed that BAD!" he hissed, before standing and pushing me over onto my back with his foot. He smiled down at me then. "Good dog," he laughed, "very good dog." My heart raced at the words, my emotions running wild. For some inexplicable reason I was immensely happy that he had enjoyed using me as he had. I almost forgot how incredibly erotic the experience had been for me as well. Almost. I would never really forget it; I had just enjoyed the most intensely pleasurable fucking of my life up until that time. To be continued .... Comments, complaints or compliments? Contact me at iainlthr@hotmail.com This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/life-with-joey/high-school-reunion.html

Life With Joey: High School Reunion GAY MALE; 'LIFE WITH JOEY: High School Reunion #1' {Bud_83@hotmail.com} ( MM group*, verbal abuse, violent/sm ) [ 1 ! ? ] Date: 7/21/2001 STANDARD WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidencidental. Do not read this story if you are offended by man-to-man sex, abusive/offensive language (including the “f” words—yes, that one and the one that also means cigarette). Do not read if you are underage or it is prohibited according to the laws governing the geographical location wherein you dwell. There is sex between males, it sometimes gets rough and there is violence. I have also attempted to capture a colloquial form of English in the dialog. These factors will not always be present, and I will warn you when such things do exist. Enjoy! Copyright 2001 by Chet English. Permission is granted to Nifty Archives to post one copy. No part may be copied, reproduced, republished, or reposted on another website without written permission from the author. LIFE WITH JOEY HIGH SCHOOL REUNION Hi, I’m Joey. I won’t use last names. It had been ten years since high school graduation and I was a little nervous about going home after so long being away. I hadn’t seen anyone from home except for Bob in most of that time. Being 27, I can’t say I haven’t experienced the world either. I need to preface this story a little before we get too far. I am a mass of contradictions: W.A.S.P., a Conservative Gay Republican who is pro-military, anti-abortion, pro-Christianity, anti-P.C., and the list goes on. I don’t like to make waves, I am a live-and-let-live type of guy. I guess I should tell you that I wasn’t popular, good at sports, super-smart, or good-looking. I generally make aquaintences, not friends. My political views aren’t the only things that set me apart. I was voted Most Likely to Join a Cult by my classmates because of my strait-laced, squeaky-clean “boy-next-door-who-didn’t” reputation (They thought they were being ironic.) My other, more well-known, reputation was gained when I was in the sixth grade during the county shuffle which brings together four elementary schools and blends them into one large middle school, I had earned that most feared of all labels—Fag! Finch, Ray, Todd, and Dave decided to make me the butt of their fears and insecurities. Of course, it didn’t help that I was very interested in both boys and girls at the time. But, mostly boys. Obviously, it isn’t a great time being a teenager, searching for an identity, and surreptitiously being labeled an outcast before you have it all sorted out for yourself. You see, I hated group sports, especially the three biggies: football, basketball, and baseball. For my non-conformity, for my not bowing before these icons of American society, I was an outcast. I made unpopular choices. Added to this the fact that I was the first guy in the class to reach puberty. Whereas one would think that this would afford some sort of status in and of itself, one would be sadly mistaken. It was awful being the first guy whose voice changed. The first guy to need deodorant, etc. I was often excluded, the last chosen for a team in gym, talked about behind my back, ridiculed, and generally made unwelcome. Thanks to the scholastic tracking system, all of my less-able friends were no longer in any of my classes. Suddenly all of my elementary friends were just faces in the hall. I was alone. I did manage to make some advances socially by being the football manager in the fall of eighth grade, running track and field in the spring, being a pep-club officer, pep-band, choir, newspaper, bowling (What was I thinking?) and joining nearly every other club that was offered. I was still slim then, and was starting to gain more of a manly stature. Then came summer vacation and the leap to high school. At thirteen, I could pass for a sixteen year old. This was cool until it came to owning up to my true age. I’d make some older friends who thought I was their age. Then, as always, it came down to “When do you get your driver’s license?” I made the inevitable awkward jump most auspiciously by making the hit list of several sadistic seniors who thought it was funny to flush a guy’s head down a toilet. As I said, I was a social outcast. I was invited to exactly one party my freshman year, and never received another. I had zero interpersonal skills. After that year I went into a depression. I gained weight, reaching up to 215 pounds on my five foot ten inch frame. It didn’t improve matters that I didn’t develop much of a personality until I left for college. And, I didn’t discover (not the best word, perhaps "have the opportunity for" would be better) anything about my sexuality until later (which is a different story.) I really enjoyed college life, I came out of my shell (No, not that kind of coming out! I didn’t admit that I was gay to myself, how could I tell anyone else?) and started working out with guys from the dorm. I managed to work myself down to 175 pounds and felt pretty good about myself. By that time, I was in-between my sophomore and junior years at a major mid-western university. It was summer and I needed a good paying summer job. I was staying with a friend in a large city and furiously looking for anything that paid well. I ended up waiting tables and bar-backing at a bar which featured exotic dancers . . . male dancers. Well, I heard from the dancers about how much they were making and knew that if I could get up the nerve, I could bring home a nice hunk of change (Yeah, any hunk would be nice, but that isn’t the story either.) So, like many other struggling college students, I bit the bullet and auditioned for a job as a dancer. I made pretty good money by the time summer ended. I finished with my degree work, received a B.A. in English, (which everybody but me knew was worthless) and moved to sunny California. Didn’t do well in the job market there, and so I fell back on dancing. I knew this was not the life I wanted, burning myself out at night and not thinking about a future, much less building one. So, I packed up, told my roomies adios, and went back to school. I had managed to pay off my first set of student loans early with the money I had made, and could afford to pay for a little of my return to university. I went back to my alma mater and enjoyed the life academia. Again, in the summers, I danced. It was at one of the shows that I was re-aquatinted with a girl with whom I had gone to high school. Maryanne bought me a drink and turned out to be a good tipper. We reminisced for a while until I had to get back to work. She left before I had finished the next set, and I didn’t see or hear from her until a month before our tenth high school reunion. I had missed the five year reunion when I was in California. It had supposedly been a real melodrama, as most of my class get-togethers were. Finch (Remember him from above?) had turned into a coke-head and one of our classmates was now a gung-ho police officer in town. He made a big deal out of Finch’s obvious disregard for the law. Many female classmates were crying and whatnot, so Officer Classmate ended up giving in to peer pressure and not arresting one of his former buddies from school. (Gee, I’ll bet that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like it did me.) Anyway, sorry for the digression. Maryanne called and asked me if I would like to strip as a “prize” for one of the gimmicks they pull at these things. I would come out masked, dance, and whoever could guess which of their 212 classmates I was, they would win one hundred dollars. I said that I’d have to think about it, and would call her. I let a week go by, thinking about how I felt about the idea, and finally decided what the hell, I hadn’t seen but two of these people in ten years, what would it hurt? I called her back and agreed to dance. I then went about setting things up so that no one would be able to guess who I am; if they didn’t, I got the hundred bucks on top of a smal remuneration of $250, so I stood to make $350 for attending my tenth high school reunion. I cut my hair short and spiky (Something I vowed I would never do after I rebelled against my father at thirteen—no more military haircuts for me!), dyed it a lighter shade of blond, and bought green contact lenses (My eyes are naturally pale blue, but can change shade depending on what I am wearing.) My classmates weren’t all that observant of me when I was with them every day for seven or more years, so how the hell were they going to recognize me as a trim blond with green eyes? On the appointed day, I arrived at the old county 4-H hall two hours in advance, and got dressed up. The contest was announced and I came out. I was dressed like Zorro—long cape, wide Spanish hat, black mask, tight pants and boots, blousey white shirt, red belt sash. I worked the room, people guessing wrongly who I was; I wasn’t speaking much. Guys where really protective of their women, often doing the old shoulder-wrap-around-trap to show their possessive connection. I was inwardly amused, but didn’t let on about anything. With a little over an hour before they were supposed to close the hall, Maryanne came over to my table and told me to go get ready, she was going to introduce my act and end the contest. As I went over by the dance floor area, Maryanne gave my tape to the D. J. He queued it up as she began pumping everybody up. I was sweating bullets waiting for the music to start. I was mentally kicking myself for this; I couldn’t believe I was still trying to prove myself to these people. The music kicked in. I had chosen to dance to "Love Is A Stranger" by The Eurythmics. As the euphony began, I went into mechanical mode. I let my body take over and shut my mind off. It wasn’t like any crowd I had stripped in front of before—either all male (preferably) or all female, never mixed. This was one of my best sets, and I knew it was a crowd-pleaser. I was smooth and looked calm and was glad I had made sure that no one was allowed to take pictures or videotape this show. I gyrated and played the crowd pretty well. I let the ladies pull at parts of the uniform, danced with some of them, and refused to take any money until it was time to remove my mask. Maryanne came forward and had the tabulations of the “raffle” to report. She read off some of the names people had put down to help hype it up and got some good laughs. “Sam S. had 43 votes (he was the class super-stud . . . Student Body Pres., top ten graduate, quarterback, etc.), Doug G. . . . 32 votes, Mike L. . . . 21 votes, Darren P. . . . 17 votes. Of the 138 class members who showed up and made a guess, none had guessed my identity. Maryanne came over to me and, again playing the crowd, teased as she first tucked the crisp one hundred dollar bill into my black posing strap, then she untied and removed my mask. You could have heard a pin drop when she held my mask above her head and said, “That’s right, everyone, our mild-mannered Joey has turned out to be a wild man!” There was a lot of hoopla after that, I took a bow, then got my stuff together to go and change. I wanted to towel down after getting all worked up. I was on my way, when a lot of people stopped me to talk. It’s very funny to think that back in school most of these people wouldn’t have spit on me if I were on fire (Oops, sorry, bad analogy.) Well, it isn’t very comforting to be standing in a room full of clothed people while you are just wearing a posing strap, so I put my pants back on. Now, I didn’t feel like I was reliving one of the many anxiety dreams of my youth. I put up with the inane chatting; I smiled my way through the next forty-five minutes and finally worked my way to the rest room. Most people had cleared out, others were hanging about still trying to recapture being seventeen. I was patted on the shoulders by some old acquaintances as they headed out, one mentioned “what a trip it was” that I was a “stripper” and that he bet I “got all the nookie" I "could ever want.” I smiled and let him keep on believing what he wanted as he went home with his wife to his two point five kids, mortgaged house, and the thought that he had to be at work early on Monday. Yeah, I can be a bit of a judgmental prick when I want to be, but so what. I was washing in the sink as best as I could when the lights went out. “Shit,” I thought, “none of these morons told them I was in here.” I wasn’t so worried, I knew that the doors were panic bars that would let me get out, so I continued to wash and waited as my eyes adjusted to the gloom lit only by the fire-exit light and the street lights coming through the textured glass. As I washed the sweat from my short blond hair, I wasn’t prepared for being grabbed from behind. Startled, I jerked my head up and hit it on the metal shelf above the faucet. As the rough hands pulled me backwards, I was told not to “make a sound, pretty-boy.” As I was roughly being pulled toward the stalls, I made out that there were three of them. One guy on either side of me, holding my arms, the third had one hand over my mouth and the other tightly yanking at my short hair. As we got up to the stalls, I heard the sounds of drunken debate, then the noise of shoe laces being pulled out of shoes which were then noisily dropped to the floor. My arms were held up above my head and my wrists were tied to the crossbar supports. My legs were also forced apart and tied at the bottom columns. My captors wrapped one of their sweaty undershirts around my head, covering my eyes and partially my nose. As I breathed in, I was treated to the smells of the alcohol on their breath and the alcohol-sweat in the undershirt. I felt drunken hands ripping my uniform pants from my body and I started to shout. “Cut it out, Fairy! Yer gonna get it worse if ya don’ shut yer faggot mouth!” one of the men hissed and then punched me in the gut. I gagged and choked for air. I figured struggling against my bonds was hopeless, I would have to try to talk these guys out of whatever they had planned for me. “Look,” I started, “I haven’t seen . . . .” I was quickly cut off by the force of another blow to my stomach. “I tol’ ya ta keep yer mouth shut! Any more outta ya and I’ll cut yer balls off!” I shut my mouth right then and there. I was not about to lose my nuts to some drunken, hillbilly gay bashers. Better just to take their beating. I thought my heart was going to explode. Then I heard, “Get the lights, Ray, ever’body’s gone by now and we won’ be disturb’d.” My worries quickly shifted from being beaten senseless to something more sinister. I could tell the lights were on, but that was the only impression I could get with my head wrapped as it was. I could hear the three of them standing nearby, breathing heavily from our exertions. “Look-it this fairy! He ain’t got no hair on ‘is legs!” I thought I recognized Todd’s voice. Todd was hot when we were in school. I remember him and the others from my days in gym class and before and after football and track practices when we were in eighth grade. He had honey-blond hair, a smooth, muscular chest, blue eyes focused behind wire-rimmed glasses, a jock’s bubble butt, and a tan that seemed to last all year long. But that isn’t what I remembered the most. No, I remember the slab of beef swinging between his legs. It was large (and I had only seen it soft) and uncut. Todd’s was the first uncircumcised dick I had ever seen, and that image stuck with me. What also stuck with me was the knowledge of his inbred homophobia. The others were always joking that Todd had been holding hands in the huddle. I gathered from the lockeroom talk that Todd’s dad hated gays, too, and wouldn’t like to hear any of this talk. Anyway, as much as I liked what I saw, I hated him for being one of the guys I had been friends with in elementary who then decided to run me across the coals of social ostracizing. Still, he filled the void when I was seeking a jack-off object sometimes. (I never said I wasn’t messed up by any of this. Besides, haven’t you ever ordered something from the menu by its picture and then when it arrived found out it was unpalatable? Well, this is sort of the same thing.) “Yeah! Hey, didn’ he use’ ta have a hairy ches’ too?” I couldn’t place this voice, but I was curious as to why he might remember that I had started to get chest hair in tenth grade. (The glorious end of required P.E. classes! Loved the lockeroom and showers, hated nearly every “team” sport otherwise.) “Shit! This faggot shaves ‘is body!” I felt my gut clench as I finally recognized the voice of Finch. He had been the bastard who hit me in the gut. I had always had a love-hate relationship going on in my head over Finch. He had been the guy to first start calling me a fag. But, he also was a humpy, short redhead (I always fall for redheads, they’re my fatal weakness.) He was well defined at fourteen, and I will never forget when I caught him stealing a jock from the equipment room so he could play football. I remember how he walked around in what he thought was an empty lockeroom in just his shoulder pads and jersey (an image that still gets me hot today.) I got a great shot of his ass as he went into the room and a better shot of his limp cock surrounded by dark red hair as he went back to his locker. That’s when I called him on his stealing. He gave me a sob story about how the coach would kill him if he didn’t wear a jock to practice, and how he had to hurry because he was late for practice anyway. I just took the whole sight in . . . him not moving to cover up his cock, me leaning against the opposite row of lockers and staring. (Hell, I figured that since he was the one who started calling me a faggot, I could at least get a free show out of it.) I watched as he slowly scratched his crotch and then opened the box. He looked me in the eye the entire time as he bent over to put on the jock. I smiled and said I wouldn’t tell on him. (Well, what would you have done? I told you he was sexy as hell, and a redhead to boot.) After practice that same day, he again tormented me by calling me a faggot and throwing his damp towel at me after he had finished showering. He, too, was the fantasy subject of several teen jerk-offs of mine, especially after what I had seen that day. (Yeah, I had a lot of issues to get over.) Anyway, back to the story. Suddenly, I heard the door to the john swing open. I thought to myself, “Now you fuckers are going to get it!” I shouted, “Hey, Help me! I’m being assaulted!” “Heh, heh hee! The fuckin’ faggot thinks Ray’s sum’body come ta save ‘im!” Todd laughed. “Fuck, there are at least four of them.” I thought to myself. I moaned as I was punched in the stomach four more times. “Faggot! You don’ lissen too good do ya?” Finch pulled my head back by my hair. “I tol’ ya you’d regret it if ya didn’ shut yer fuck’n’ trap.” “Hey, Finch! Look at them funny panties he’s wearin’!” the unidentified voice said. “Man, this faggot likes ta wear girlie-panties!” said Todd, barely hiding the excitement in his voice. I felt a hand roughly grab my crotch and begin to grab at my pouch. I could tell he wasn’t trying to get me off, at least that’s how it seemed. He was only trying to remove the posing strap, but in his drunken state, he was seeming to have a little trouble. Finch mumbled under his breath, “Fuckin’ snaps won’ open.” This, of course, is because it didn’t have snaps, but Finch never was a sharp one. I couldn’t believe his persistence, as his hands kept pulling and jerking at the strap. “Look-it this!” Finch crowed, “The faggot’s gettin’ a fuckin’ hard on!” Humiliatingly true, I was getting aroused by his hand. Still, I’m not stupid, just horny. When I tried to pull away, one of my hands broke the shoestring away from the crossbar. I swung out blindly and connected with someone’s head, Finch shouted, “Get ‘is arm! Dammit! Ray! You get behin’ ‘im and hol’ ‘im for me!” “A’righ’, man!” Ray brushed my side as he ducked between my struggling body and the sides of the stall. He grabbed my arm and held it behind my back, pinned between our bodies. The string that had been holding my arm was still tied at my wrist. “Keep hol’n ‘im, Ray! I don’ wan’ this fucker gettin’ loose ‘fore we’re through!” Finch barked. Ray moved up and held me tighter, inadvertently holding me against his bare chest. I realized then that it must be his shirt that was being used as my blindfold. I felt and smelled his hot, alcohol-breath against my cheek as he tried to get a better look at what Finch was doing to me. His head was right next to mine, pinning it between my secured arm. I could feel the rough stubble of his cheek against mine, his jaw was hard and the feeling would have been very erotic had we been in different circumstances. With the heat of Ray’s body behind me and Finch running his hands over my cock, it wasn’t long before I was not only completely hard, but I was starting to leak pre-cum. (Yeah, I know that you think I’m some kind of masochistic freak, but that isn’t the case at all. I was scared and sore from the punches, but the entire time I was being roughly handled, there was an incredible undercurrent of pent-up sexual tension on the parts of my captors.) The verbal harassment had all but died down, so I thought I could make an impassioned plea for my release. I started to say something when I was jerked forward by my posing strap being ripped from my body. I managed to say, “Why don’t . . . .” before my mouth was stuffed full of my soggy pouch. My leaky boner pronged and throbbed and jerked to the rhythm of my rapidly beating heart. “Look-it how ‘is cock’s jerkin’ aroun’, man!” the voice I couldn’t place sounded. He was worked up, I could make out the heavy breathing of my four captors. Ray was definitely turned on by my raging dick. As he pressed into me even more, my hand brushed against a hard lump in his crotch. I had never seen Ray naked in school, but I had heard rumors that he was hung. When I came into contact with his hard cock, my fingers became more insistent, Ray let out a quavering breath into my neck, stifling his moan. Finch, thinking the moan came from me, said, “Faggot’s really lik’n’ this, boys!” I’m not sure what was going on in my mind at this point. All of the years of verbal abuse by these guys mixed with the erotic fantasies I had had about them as a confused teenager began to muddle my feelings. I didn’t want to be responding to them in this way, but it was like I was fulfilling a dark destiny set in motion when we were fourteen; and only now, thirteen years later, were we enacting its fruition. I was far from being okay with this; but the odd mixture of conflicting emotions which had been bottled up for so long were working against me. I had never dealt with the torment I had gone through—the mental anguish at being separate and rejected—at these guys’ hands, nor had I overcome the unresolved adolescent fantasies and unfulfilled desires which fueled my daily maturbatory workouts about these guys back then. I was unprepared for the backlash of all of this baggage taking its toll. It was like I had taken a trip in a time machine and ended up back in the awkward teenage years where I couldn’t separate my emotions—desire and hatred worked together then to create hot dreams about conquest and submission after school in the lockeroom, or behind the curtain on the stage in the gym. I was their captive sex-toy and would do everything they told me to do. Despite what was going on here was being forced upon me, my mind lost touch with adult reasoning and retreated to that dark portion of my mind which was me when I had no real sense of self, back when I had no concept of self-worth, back when I had thought that the only way I would find companionship was as a victim of sexual abuse. With all of this convolution raging in my head, I was beginning to think differently about Finch. I was beginning to think of him as I had when we were kids. I was altering the facts of the situation in order to cope with this inner turmoil. Suddenly I found myself thinking that although Finch seemed intent on my pain, there was an element of butch homosexuality underlying the whole scene, and especially his actions. I was attempting to cope with this by retreating into one of my adolescent fantasies. I winced as a hand roughly gripped my hair and pulled my face to the right, more toward Ray’s own face. I stopped working my fingers over Ray’s hard-on and focused on the threat of Finch’s proximity. I couldn’t see, but I could feel the heat of three sets of breath mingling—mine, Ray’s and Finch’s. I knew his face was mere inches from my own. He pulled my now sodden posing strap from my mouth. I imagined he had a wicked grin on his face as he spat out, “So, Faggot, what the fuck sh’u’d we do wit’ ya?” My mind raced, what should I say? Before I knew what I was saying, the words burst from me, “I’ll do anything you want . . . suck your dicks, whatever! I’ll make you feel really good, just let me go, man!” I was pleading. “D’ja hear that? The queer wants to suck our dicks!” Todd sort of giggled. I wasn’t sure if it was out of nervousness or excitement. I could still feel Finch’s closeness and imagined the smirk on his face as he jerked my hair some more and taunted, “So, Queer, ya wanna suck ‘r cocks do ya?” I stood motionless, saying nothing. “WELL, DO YA, FAGGOT? . . . HUH, . . . DO YA?” Finch punctuated each word with forceful jerks of my head. But, before I could answer, he inched in even closer to my face, putting his lips next to my ear and nearly whispered through the T-shirt, “Do ya wanna wrap yer fag lips ‘roun’ my hot cock? Huh, Faggot? I bet ya been want’n’ ta do that ever since ya first saw it at football practice! Huh, Queer-fuck? I remember how ya looked at me. Yeah, Faggot, yeah. Yer gonna be suck’n’ a whole lotta cock t’night!” I sensed him pull his face from mine. He shoved the strap back into my mouth. There was an ominous tension electrifying the room that nearly exploded when Finch finally said, “All’a ya geddover here! We’re gonna fuck this fag up!” Bare feet made a sticky sound as they pulled from the tacky tiled floor and retreated from me. I didn’t know what to expect next. I couldn’t see Finch or the others to tell if I should get ready for a baseball bat to the head or what. I tensed my body when I heard Ray exhale a slight laugh. He gripped my wrist tighter and pulled it back over his still-hard prick until I resumed playing with it. His tongue darted briefly out and licked my throat. “Look a’ tha’!” the mystery guy blurted, “Th’ fag’s cock’s still hard, man! Even after Finch’s been fuck’n’ slapp’n’ ‘im aroun’!” I could hear the smuggness in Finch’s voice as he said, “Fuck’n’ faggot-queer-boy mus’ like th’ rough stuff! Todd, geddover there ‘n’ start workin’ ‘is tits! Pinch ‘em real hard! Bite ‘em if ya have ta! I wan’ this bitch beggin’ for it ‘fore we’re through!” Finch ordered. Todd moved in and immediately began a terrorist’s assault on my sensitive nipples. At first, he gripped each nipple between his thumbs and forefingers and pinched and pulled on them mercilessly. I strained my ears for any clue as to what was coming next. Suddenly I heard a zipper being pulled down, followed by a belt buckle jingling then tone as it hit the floor. There was the unmistakable sound of a pair of pants being shuffled off onto the floor. I was a bit relieved that they hadn’t thought to use the belt on me. The torture continued as I heard the sound of shoes dropping to the floor and a second pair of jeans being lowered and then pulled off of legs. I let out a moan of pleasure as Todd increased his attention on my tits. Ray was biting my earlobe, tentatively, through the T-shirt as I continued to rub his bulging dick through his pants. I made it look like I was struggling so Ray wouldn’t be embarrassed. I somehow sensed that the others weren’t aware of what had been going on between us since he began holding me. I thought there might be a chance I could make an ally if I kept it up and didn’t blow his cover. “What the hell ‘re ya doin’ over there, Dave? Stop pullin’ yer pud ‘n’ help work this bitch over! He’s ‘bout boilin’ now! Won’ be long ‘n’ he’ll be beggin’ fer us ta fuck ‘im up the ass I’ll bet!” Finch howled, inadvertently letting me know who my fourth captor was. Well, it made sense. These guys had been together in team sports since middle school: football, wrestling, and track. (Yeah, I know there is only one of the cardinal three represented here, but fuck they were still jocks and that made it okay.) Finch came back over and ripped the T-shirt from my head, I squinted in the brightness of the fluorescent lights. Like lightning, Finch slapped my right butt cheek, gripping it tightly in his fingers. I groaned in a stymied sexual heat, my gag muffling the pleasure I was beginning to feel. It was then Finch said, “He’s likin’ this too much! Todd, don’ be jus' pullin’ on those; I said bite his tits! Make ‘im cry! He’s enjoying what yer doin’.” Todd looked as if he were going to object, but didn’t. He moved his mouth over my left nipple and bit the tip between his teeth at Finch’s insistence. I jolted strait up as if an electric volt coursed through my body. It felt like it shot its way out through my dick. I could hear my pre-cum splat as it hit the floor. I heard one of the men spit (I figured it was Finch or Dave as the other two were busy), pulling it deeply from his throat. Then I felt a sloppy wetness hit the head of my dick as it was trapped in a palm full of saliva. As the fist squished and squeezed my cock-head, I groaned so loud that I startled Ray. “What the fuck ‘re you guys doin’ up there?” Ray asked. “You just keep th’ faggot pinned there, Ray, and we’ll tell ya what’s goin’ down.” Dave piped in. “Dave, why don’t you som’thin’ other than fuck’n’ stan’ there jerkin’ off,” it was more a command than a question Finch issued. “Like what? There ain’t nothin’ left fer me ta do,” Dave replied. “What th’ fuck, man! You remember last wee . . . er . . . . Shit! Man, it ain’t surprisin’ you don’ get laid much. You got the imagination of dirt! Tickle his damn’ feet! That ought ta fuck with ‘im!” Finch returned. I felt Dave struggling to get my left foot untied and off the ground when Finch noticed I was giving him a hard time. “Ray, Pull the bastard up off the ground so Dave can tickle his feet.” I noticed how the others did everything Finch commanded. It was scary how little they had progressed since high school. But, then again, who was I to talk? Here I had gotten myself into this situation because I hadn’t been able to get over my past either. Ray put his arm around my waist, keeping one hand over my other arm so I wouldn’t stop frigging his cock. His hairy arm brushed my shaft below where Finch held my cock-head prisoner. As Ray lifted my weight onto his body, Dave pulled left my leg off the floor by the ankle and began to run his fingers lightly over the soul of my foot. I was stretched out awkwardly since Dave had my left leg off the floor. My right leg and left arm were still tied to the stall supports, and my right arm was pinned between my back and Ray’s body. It became even more awkward when I started to buck against the over-stimulation to several sensitive places on my body. Evidently Dave made me give the response Finch was fishing for, as my body did an agonizing slow curl and I stretched against my captors and bonds. Ray grunted both from my hand palming his dick and the added pressure of taking my weight onto himself. Finch ignored Ray and dropped my cock to begin rubbing his hard dick against my now available left thigh. His cock was so hot it burned my leg were it touched, leaving a slime trail of his pre-cum to drip and snake across my smooth, hairless thigh. I knew that this wouldn’t end before that fiery dick was up my ass; and I also knew that Finch was going to make me beg him to do it. Hell broke loose when Dave said with astonishment, “Hey, Finch, man, the faggot’s workin’ Ray’s dick through his pants!” Misinterpreting Dave’s motive for calling him out, Ray quickly countered, “Fuck you he is!” Finch had Ray put me down, re-tie my arm to the crossbar and come out from behind me. I knew they would be able to see that his cock was hard. Hell! a blind man could have seen that prong! But it was the slick wet spot I had worked out of Ray that cinched it for them. “You lettin’ this faggot grab yer shit, man?” Todd asked. “Shaddup! I see y’all have hard-ons too, so don’ go gettin’ all worked up at me! Besides, what the fuck d’ya think we’re gonna do? Huh? Damn, Todd, Finch’s gonna fuck the shit outta Joey!” Ray countered. I wondered that Ray could so quickly grasp what was going on when he had been so slow on the up-take in classes at school. Finch pulled the two men apart before the thought could take hold in Todd’s mind. He said, almost too quickly, “It’s alright, Todd, . . . only goes ta show that the fag’s ready for phase two. Get ready. You two won’t be needin’ any clothes either. You two get naked like Dave ‘n’ me, ‘n’ we’ll really start this party.” Todd said, “I don’ wanna get nekked, I thought you said we wuz gonna fuck ‘im up!” “We ARE gonna fuck ‘im up, Todd, . . . fuck ‘im up the ass!” Finch smiled wickedly at his bad pun. “I dunno, man. I ain’t no fag, man,” Todd stammered, “I don’ wanna put my dick in ‘is ass!” “Then hold ‘im down for the res’ of us,” Dave sneered, barely containing his excitement, “I wanna long-dick this fairy!” Finch went over to Todd, I couldn’t make out all of the details of their conversation, but I guess Finch convinced Todd to get involved because the next thing I knew, Dave was marveling at how big Todd’s cock is and how cool it must be to have a hood on your cock. I had long since given up on fighting this, and I knew that the others were all getting into the scene. Try as I might to deny it, I realized that I was also getting caught up in this scene. Sure, it had started off scary as hell and I was probablt going to be bruised from all of the punches I’d taken, but it has turned into something entirely different than what I had suspected. So why not have fun? I knew that Finch was definitely a league player if he could pull off getting the terribly homophobic Todd involved in this. Besides, after Finch’s little slip-up with Dave, I was pretty certain that the two of them were more into the gay scene than Todd or Ray knew. They had an air of experience about them and their language told me that this wasn’t the first time a scene like this had been played out for them. A hard slap to my ass drew me back to reality as I was told I was being lowered from the stall; I was not to resist or they would “rip [my] fuck’n’ balls off and feed ‘em to th’ pigs!” Dave took the discarded T-shirt and blindfolded me again. My right foot was untied first, then my left arm was released. Because I only took a few steps, I assume I was pulled out into the open area of the rest room between the urinals and the stalls. I was pushed to the floor; my wrists were tied together which were, in turn, bound behind my head by my throat with a thick, leather belt. This left my armpits exposed and kept my hands out of the way. I was then spun around by one of them who had grabbed an ankle and ran in a circle. I was disoriented, but not nauseous. Then, I was straddled and felt a weight on my chest as one of them sat on me. The gag was pulled from my mouth and I was told to beg. I asked, “What am I supposed to beg for?” I received a sharp kick to my side for my poor judgment. “You know what you want, beg us, and we’ll give it to ya, fairy-boy.” Dave seemed to be running this scene. “I want you to let me go!” I said, knowing I was antagonizing them. I was hit so hard that my teeth rattled and my head bounced against the hard tile floor. “Alright! . . . alright, I . . .I’ll . . . beg,” I managed to sputter, “I want you to . . . to fuck me. Please, fuck me.” “See,” I could imagine the smirk on Finch’s face as I gave in, “I tol’ ya he would beg us ta fuck ‘im in the ass! But, this’s too easy, let’s hear some more begging, faggot!” I figured that they wanted to humiliate me and humble me before the straight guys so it wouldn’t tip them off that Finch and Dave liked getting into bondage games with other guys. So, I began begging, being sure to keep an edge in my voice, and seeming to be a reluctant participant. “I . . . want you to . . . f-fuck me . . . .” “Tell us how much you want our dicks, gay-boy. Tell us ya wanna suck us dry ‘fore we fuck yer queer, dick-lovin’ ass!” Dave jeered. “I . . . I want your dicks, I want . . . I want to suck your cocks dry before you . . . before . . . you fuck my ass,” I played along. “Ya heard the fairy, he wan’s us ta fuck ‘im after he sucks our dicks! Man, what a cock-hungry lil’ bitch we got here!” Dave exclaimed. “First, let’s have ‘im suck on Todd’s big, uncut dick for awhile. Come on, Stud, make this bitch chew on yer fat, slimy, fuck-stick.” If they could have seen my face they would have seen me arch an eyebrow at Finch’s use of those words, especially the “Stud” part. “Yeah! Make ‘im chew on that foreskin of yers!” Dave added, “Have ‘im tongue it good!” Even Ray was caught up by all of this and he said, “Shit! If one of y’all don’t shove yers in soon, I’m go’n’ to!” Finch coaxed, “See, Todd, ever’body knows ‘e’ll suck ya off! Stick yer dick in ‘is face ‘n’ see if he don’t suck it right on down ‘is throat! Come on! You know the faggot wants cock, let’s give it to ‘im!” Todd gave a resigned sigh, as if getting your cock washed by a hot mouth and tongue were the worst thing in the world, and moved over to replace Dave on my chest. Someone must have pushed him up on my chest because he said, “Don’t push me, I’ll do it!” Then I felt the first drop of tasty pre-cum drip to my lips, quickly followed by another. I gingerly stuck out my tongue and licked at the air, hoping to find the slimy prick I knew was waiting out there in the dark. I moved my tongue around briefly to the snorts and smirks of my captors until I hit pay dirt, so to speak. My tongue made contact with the source of all of that sweet nectar. I love the feel of a foreskin as my tongue first touches it, all soft and warm and slimy at the same time. The smell of Todd’s crotch was turning me on, I could, under the layer of sexual- perspiration, just make out the sent of his deodorant soap—Coast. I got really turned on by the manly scent, and I quickly attempted to capture his meat in my hungry mouth. Ray sort of shouted, “Look-it Joey, man! He’s really tryin’ ta suck Todd’s dick! Oh, man! He’s fuckin’ takin’ it in ‘is mouth!” Dave added, “He really wants ta suck it!” “Yeah, the faggot really gets in ta cock don’t he?” Finch gloated. “Yeah, that’s right, suck ‘im, Faggot!” Todd moaned as his dick sank deeper in my mouth. I could feel his hairy balls on my chin as I lifted my head to take more of what was at least eight inches of hard dick. Todd began thrusting his hips in a surprisingly slow, steady rhythm, the instinctual ancient dance. His inhibitions were dwindling quickly as the impulses made their way from his cock to his brain. His thrusting never increased, however, even as the others cheered him on with shouts of “Fuck his face, man!”, “Shove your fuckin’ cock in deep!”, “Try ‘n’ make him take your big hog all the way down!”, “Shoot your spunk in his mouth!”, “Yeah! Push your fat dick in faster, Todd!” His thighs were getting really hot where they encased by my head. His breathing became ragged and he was pushing deeper into my throat as if he wanted me to swallow his pubic bush and balls as well. For sure he was liking what was happening to his cock. As his thighs rubbed against my head, Todd managed to push my blindfold up and off of my face. When I opened my eyes, I was treated to the view of Todd above me. His blond pubic bush was just above my eyes when he pulled out on the long strokes. I could see all the way up his ripped chest and abs to his pointed dark nipples. His head was back and his mouth was open and issuing gasps, sputters, and other sounds of sexual need being satiated. My tongue rasped the underside of his fat cock. I curled it slightly to accommodate his shape. His cock had a wonderful bulge along the perpendicular arch which then melded with the greater girth of the shaft. I gagged, fighting for air, as his dick expanded and battered my mouth, closing off my throat. Todd’s moaning got louder and his pumping into my face got rougher but never quicker. He really knew how to ride out a blowjob. He began a low, guttural moan as he approached orgasm. “Awwwwww, fuck! man, I’m gonna blast it down th’ fag’s mouth!” he managed to gasp as he hit the point of no return. “Here it comes! Uh! Ohhh, fuck yeah, suck me deep! Ohhh, fuckin’ dick lovin’ bitch! Yeah! . . . Ohhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhh . . . Uhhhhh!” Todd’s cum shot hot and fast into my mouth and throat. What I caught of it on my tongue was thick and tasty. Most of his load went down my throat before I could trap it in my mouth. I was close to passing out from lack of air when he pulled his eight incher from my abused mouth. I had gulped down Todd’s cum and pulled in a long breath of air. He mumbled something like “Thanks, Joey,” and began to get up. Finch moved in behind Todd and grabbed him under his arms, Todd’s knees pushed the blindfold completely off, giving me a sort of pillow on which to rest my head. “Alright, Ray, looks like you get your turn,” Finch motioned Ray to my chest as he helped a weak-kneed Todd get off of me. Ray grinned down at me. then, he moved from straddling my chest to straddling my head. He was going to rest his balls on my nose and push in to me from above rather than ride me like Todd had. As he pushed his dick to my mouth, I licked my lips in anticipation. I watched in fascination he descended upon me. Ray had managed to keep his stocky but muscled frame from his wrestling days. I stared at the dark hair on his ass as he lowered himself. His thighs were also covered in thick, dark hair. I moved my attention to his bullet shaped prick. It is about five and a half inches long, but thick, like a beer can. The head was an angry purple, slick with Ray’s pre-cum. He growled, “Open yer mouth and suck my cock, Joey!” We moaned together as he began his assault on my face. I liked the way his hairy legs, ass, and balls scraped my face, neck and shoulders. He stayed like this for a few seconds, then proceeded to let gravity take its course. He sank down and plugged my mouth and throat with his monster cock. He stopped when his pubes where against my chin and his balls were resting on my closed eyelids. He pulled his dick all the way out and then plunged back into me about five more times. Suddenly, he got up and I was about to protest when he suddenly switched his position and sat down on my chest. His knees were digging into my armpits, creating a new, sensuous torment. He put his hands behind my head and pulled it up off the floor until my neck disappeared and his cock was embedded in my mouth once more. His hairy body was now massaging my chest, neck, and jawline. As he began pumping into my mouth, his rough knees began rubbing my armpits, causing me to try to pull away from the tickling. Dave noticed my attempts to get away from Ray’s assault and mistook my attempts for resistance. He grabbed my nuts and pulled me back. I gasped in pain and Ray pushed himself deeply into my throat and held me there. Dave let go of my balls and pulled on my dick, causing me to groan with pleasure. The vibrations on Ray’s fat cock made him tremble. When he realized what was the cause of this added sensation, he reached behind with his left hand and grabbed my pulsing dick while he, again, pulled my head up on his dick until my nose was crushed against his groin and pubic hair. He found the right place on my cock with his left thumb and hit my pleasure zone—the smooth skin directly below the knob on the outer arch of my cock. “Gawdammit! Yer fuckin’ better than my ol’ lady!” I immediately began groaning and choking for air at the same time. This sent Ray into outer space and he let loose with a huge load that shot so far back in my throat that I didn’t need to swallow. I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t get to sample any of his cum, because I had loved his thick pre-cum. “AWWWW, FUCK, Joey! Suck me dry man, Uh-huh! Fuckin’ drink my spooge! Yer mouth is fuckin’ hot!” Ray quickly descended into grunts and moans of monosyllabic sounds of contentment and sexual satisfaction. As his orgasmic tremors subsided, he let loose of my cock and head and then pulled out of my mouth with a pop. My jaws were aching as I instinctively drew in a deep gulp of air. I was starting to see stars from being deprived of oxygen. Suddenly, Ray’s pressure on my chest eased as he rolled off of me and Finch said, “Yer turn, Dave. Plug his fucking mouth again. This fairy can’t seem to get enough cock!” Dave snorted in agreement and quickly moved on to my chest to fill the hollow of my mouth with his seepy cock. However, instead of pushing into me like I had anticipated, he began smacking my face with his slimy, red dick. It is not very thick, nor is it very long; actually, it is rather average in most respects. The head of his cock, however, was huge and looked out of place on his short, thin shaft. Also, Dave’s dick had an odd bend to it, as if the head were too heavy for the shaft to support and drooped forward under the weight. I tried to get his cock into my mouth as he slapped me with it. Each time it hit, it made a sticky mess and a delicious sound, like rain falling heavily on the pavement. Dave was the most abusive to me, and he seemed to know exactly where to position his hands, body, and dick to get the most out of his ride. He had one hand pulling on my balls, the other was massacring my left tit. He put his knees where Ray had been just before, having figured out what they were doing to me; and, he put most of his weight on his knees so he could keep my head back against the floor. Before he pushed his cock past my lips, he made me beg him to let me suck on his cock. “Come on! Beg, fag-boy! Ask me ta plug yer throat with my cock-head and coat yer tonsils with my hot cream!” he sneered down at me. I begged like a bitch in heat for his cock. I had managed to taste some of his pre-cum when he slapped my cheeks and it made me want him even more. “Please let me suck your dick, Dave. Fuck my face and shoot your hot wad into my throat! I want to make you cum,” I pleaded. I couldn’t stop myself. I was actually pleading with Dave for his dick! I admit to loving cock and men, but I had never even dreamed about this sort of scene being played out. I was getting hotter and hotter as he made me beg for him to humiliate me. What the fuck was I doing? “You fuckin’ worthless whore-fag! Don’t call me by my name! When ya talk to us, ya call us ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’! Ya got it?” he screamed at me. I managed to sputter, “Yes, Sir!” as his open hand connected with my cock-juice slimed face. Dave put his slimy palm to my mouth and ordered me to lick it clean. I managed a hearty “Yes, Sir!” again and began to lick his pre-cum from his palm. This seemed to get him hot, because the next thing I know, Dave was shoving his scalding cock into my mouth. He quickly found his rhythm and was rocking himself to an orgasm while he talked trash at me. “I always knew ya were a cock-sucking-faggot . . . . Why didn’ ya tell us ya liked dick back ‘n school? We woulda given ya all the cock ya could handle and then some . . . . Boy, ya sure do know how to pull on a cock with yer tongue . . . . Yeah! fuck’n’ run yer tongue up and down on my shaft! Fuck’n’ fag! Oh, yer gonna get a lot of dick tonight, man! Yeah! gag on my woody. Make me fill yer filthy, dick-lov’n’, cum-suck’n’ mouth with my spunk! Damn! Keep that up slave-fag . . . feels great!” Dave’s degradations continued to spew forth as he sawed his dick in and out of my mouth with a slow, measured pace. He was planning to make this last. My jaw was really sore from all of the dicks pounding my mouth, and the hits I had taken earlier. He looked down at me and I saw a wicked gleam in his eye as he pulled hard on my balls. It must have made me give the proper response, because he repeated it regularly and followed by pinching my tit between his fingernails. I looked at Dave’s lean body as he drew his cock from my mouth and told me to use my lips more and to create better suction. He had managed to keep his body in great shape since graduation. The ten years had made him harder; his muscles were defined and he didn’t show the ponch that usually begins to set in by thirty. He saw me checking him out and grinned down at me. He quickened his pace a little and continued to stare me in the eyes. He continued to verbally abuse me as well. Finch had come up to stand behind Dave. He put his hands on Dave’s shoulders and massaged them as he watched from above. Finch began to let his hands roam until he was working Dave’s tits. Dave moaned in appreciation and, for the second time, quickened his pace. He began to grow less verbal as he neared his climax. In the end, Dave and the others had become grunting, growling, sweaty animals enjoying their rutting. Dave’s climax, however, surprised me when he pulled out of my mouth and began beating his cock over my face. I kept my mouth open and waiting for him to invade it again, but his hand flew up and down on his shaft. His knuckles grazed my lips and nose, and he told me to stick my tongue out. He rasped his fist over my tongue and began to shake as he reached the summit of ecstasy. His cock exploded with a fury of knuckles and white-hot cum blowing all over the place. His first and second shots landed somewhere above my head, the third shot landed on my forehead, where my hairline began and trailed down my face and back to Dave’s piss slit. The next three shots landed in various spots on my face, none making it into my waiting mouth. The last couple of small, less powerful blasts did hit my lips and outstretched tongue and I managed to lick his sticky fingers as they passed over me. He wasted no time in pushing his spent cock back into my mouth and ordering me to clean it “real good” for him. I managed a garbled “Wef, Fer!” (Yes, Sir!) around the gooey prick as he leaned forward on his knees. Finch let go of Dave’s tits and helped him to stand when Dave was satisfied with my clean-up job. Finch just stood above me and sneered after Dave had been cleared out of the way. He rested his hands on his hips, his dripping sausage raging above me. He had a foot on either side of my lower ribs and was gently tickling my sides with his big toes as he stared down at me. “Well, Queer, what should I do with you?” Finch’s words were crisp and clean, no trace of the alcohol slurring his speech. I just looked up at him, mutely awaiting his descent. He looked from me to the three other men, reclining against the wall—Todd and Ray pulling on their again-hard dicks; Dave breathing hard while he rested with his eyes closed and his head back against the wall. Finch squatted over my mouth and had me lick and suck on his balls. I kept this up for about five minutes until he pulled away and stood back up. He repositioned himself so that he was on his knees and above my head. I thought he might sixty-nine me, but I learned he wasn’t interested in helping me get off, only in what my mouth and tongue could do for his body. Finch moved up until his balls rested below my chin and his butt was directly over my lips. He reached behind himself and spread his butt-cheeks. I could see his brown hole as he pressed down and said, “Rim my ass, Queer!” I timidly reached my tongue up for his brownish-pink rosebud and connected. I pushed down my involuntary urge to puke. I had not done this before, and it really never interested me. However, I was in no position to argue (literally). So, I did as I was told and stuck out my slightly dry tongue. There was a slightly acidic, tangy taste mixed with the salt of his sweat. Finch only had to tell me once to keep my tongue wet. As my tongue began to explore his butt crack, I could hear both the pleasurable grunts and “uhms” from Finch’s mouth and the disgusted sounds coming from Ray and Todd. “I can’t b’lieve he’s doin’ that! It’s fuckin’ sick, man!” Todd said. “Yuck, he’s got 'is tongue on Finch’s ass!” Ray gasped, then added, “But Finch sure does seem ta like it a lot!” “Hey, Finch, where the hell did you hear of that?” Todd asked. “Ohh, I . . . Uhm, yeah . . . I, uh, saw it . . . OHHH! . . . in a porno-oh-oh . . . , this bitch was . . . uhhhh! . . . was doin’ this dude’s ass! It’s Fuckin’ Great! You guys’ll have ta . . . Oh Fucking Shit! . . . try out what this fucker can do! DAMN!” Finch managed to moan his explanation around the effects my tongue was having on his body. I ran my tongue in circular patterns, then began a quick jabbing motion. Finch moaned louder and louder and attempted to catch my tongue with his pulsating pucker. Finally, he backed off, and ordered me to suck his dick. As I went down on his cock, I noticed the redness of the head, the slight, rosey-pink color to his skin, and the dark red curls of his pubic bush. Finch snorted, half pleasure and half jeer, as I went all the way down deeply into his crotch until my nose hit his abdomen. It was then I realized that Finch didn’t have any hair on his balls and that his pubic bush was “sculpted”. Then, as I thought on it, I recognized that his butt-crack had been absent of hair as well. Finch grabbed the back of my neck and thrust up with his dick at the same time, pinning me. He held me there until I was choking for air. He let me off and I gasped for breath. He got up and untied me. I rolled to my side, wondering why he was letting me go when he hadn’t finished himself off yet. As I lay on my side, rubbing my neck, ribs, and head, Finch moved in behind me and used a wrestling move on me. He tossed me around until I was on my back again with my legs up and wrapped around his waist. He grinned down at me as I felt his dick pressing against my ass. He had my hands pinned above my head, and he began to writhe against me to get his cock into position. I felt the hot trail of pre-jiz he left behind as his hot dick searched out my bunghole. His smile got wider as he hit his mark. I moaned as he added pressure, dropping his weight on me and pressing his searing dick-head against my opening. “Now, Faggot, beg me to fuck you like the bitch you are!” Finch grunted. “Fuck me! Finch, please, fuck me! I want you to fuck me, please!” I was so worked up that I begged and begged to be ravaged. I didn’t stop to think about all the past cruelties he had inflicted against me. All I could do was live in the moment with four hot studs who were hot for my ass. I noticed it only after I had said it, but an evil grin had replaced the lusty one that had been on Finch’s face just moments before. “No, Faggot, I won’t fuck you,” he said. I looked up with disbelief. I couldn’t accept what had just transpired. Once again, I had fallen into one of Finch’s traps. He had me and he knew it. I silently cursed myself for my stupidity. How could I have trusted this guy to go through with anything he said when in all the time that I had known him, he had done nothing but abuse me? He stood up to take a more intimidating stance. He looked back down at me and grinned that smile that had haunted me throughout middle school and high school. The smile that said, “Yeah, get ready, Fucker, I’m gonna take you down in front of everyone again.” It was the smile that preceded every cruel trick and every cruel word he had ever said to me. Then he opened his lips and the next cruelty began. “I know . . . Ray? Todd? You guys ready to go again?” “Yep! . . . You bet!” came their replies. “Well, what say you fellas have another go at him while I work him up some?” “Whadda ya wan' us ta do?” Todd asked. “Do whatever gets you off!” was Finch’s reply. Ray nudged Todd and they moved over to where I lay. Ray told Todd to make me get up on all fours and take me in the rear while he took me in the other end. Todd looked uneasy at first, but evidently he had finally warmed up to the idea because he took up the position. They were about to stick me when Finch stopped them. “No! Don’t fuck him!” Finch crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, kicking one heel up to the wall, just like he had when he was posing on the “cool wall” in high school. Ray started to say something, then changed his mind. Todd was confused by the issue until Dave said, “You don’t have to shove your cock in his ass to ride him, Todd.” Still confused, Todd queried, “Whadda ya mean? How c’n I ride ‘im if I ain’t fuck’n’ ‘im?” Dave sort of rolled his eyes and then began as if he were talking to a child, “You just slide that fat, un-cut cock of yours up and down his crack until you shoot your load all over him.” Todd must have understood that because he started gyrating against my butt without any further instructions. Ray waited momentarily then told me to look at him as he shoved his cock down my throat. I rolled my eyes up as far as I could. When I made eye contact, he put his hand under my chin and slowly guided his semi-hard cock toward my waiting mouth. Just as he made contact with my lips, he smiled and pulled away. I must have groaned in disappointment because he said, “Don’t worry, Joey, you’ll get my dick.” I was moved by the fact that he called me Joey each time and not faggot. There was a lot more to this guy than I had previously thought. Either he had mellowed in the past thirteen years, or I had judged him wrongly all this time. He grinned down at me and said, “Get ready, here it comes.” This time, he did push in and I was again struggling against its girth. A sigh escaped him as he hit bottom. In the meantime, Todd began pushing more frantically against my backside. I had barely noticed that he was bent over me until I heard his muffled grunting in my ear. He had wrapped his right arm around my waist with his right hand on my lower abdomen just below my navel, his left hand was gripping my left arm just below the elbow, and his chin was in the center of my back, just below my neck. He was in a beginning wrestler’s stance. He had stopped dry-humping me for the moment and had reached up with his left hand and began pushing downward on my head. He muttered little encouragements like: “Suck it” and “All the way down” and “Eat Ray’s meat.” I was only half amazed when he scooted up on my back so that his head was next to mine. Todd began pumping a little more frantically as he watched Ray’s meat sliding in and out of my mouth. He didn’t realize his mistake until Ray had the tip of his cock between Todd’s parted lips; by then, it was too late. I felt Todd tense up and thought there was going to be a big problem when I got the bright idea to begin humping against Todd. Ray picked up on my action and began petting Todd’s head. “Oh, yeah, Todd, come on! Suck my straight dick! Oh, man, this is so hot! My best straight friend’s fuck’n’ suck’n’ on my dick!” This disarmed him enough to keep him at it. He didn’t seem to mind that he had his friend’s fat cock in his mouth. Todd let out a small sound that indicated he was about to cum. That sound quickly turned to a full-fledged grunting moan as he let loose with a volley that began making squishing noises between our bodies. We kept this up for a couple of minutes (Todd must have really dug sucking Ray’s cock) when without warning, Ray said, “Open wide, Joey!” His dick was out of Todd’s mouth and back in mine before either of us knew it was happening. Ray rammed his cock deep down my throat for the second time and fired his shots before I could get a taste. Todd disengaged and went to the sink to wash up. In his sloppy place was Dave. Dave rubbed his dick in Todd’s spent jism, making sure to slick up his entire shaft. He took up Todd’s wresting position with one minor alteration—he put his dick underneath my body, so that he was pressing against my balls and still-raging, pre-cum dripping, blood-filled aching cock. Dave began a ragged rocking motion and bit me on the shoulders and back. He scooted up by my face and looked up at Ray expectantly. Dave told me to look at him. Our faces were mere millimeters apart and his lips touched mine as he told Ray, “Stick your dick between our lips, Ray.” Ray quickly complied and began a poking motion between our two mouths. We licked and mouthed his deflating hard-on back to full-bore; occasionally our tongues met and our lips touched. Ray began alternating pushing his cock down my throat and Dave’s. Ray began asking us which of us wanted to take a big gulp from his beer can. He teased us as he poked around our tonsils. “Who wants it most? Show Daddy who wants his hot protein shake,” he taunted, his voice scratchy with lust. “Let’s have a contest, the mouth with the most pressure and moan’n’ will get Daddy’s sweet juice.” I fought hard against Dave for the prize. I wasn’t surprised to see Dave going after Ray’s cock with slutty abandon. He hummed and moaned so loudly I thought I would go deaf. But, I wasn’t going to let Ray down, nor was I about to let Dave get the goods. When I got my turn again, I applied a little trick of my own. Now that I was ready, I reached back to my old singing days and began using some of the things I had learned. Even without using breath techniques, I knew I would win when I started humming the octave scales we had used for warm-up exercises (And my guidance counselor thought that choir would never pay off in the future). I was a bit taken aback when Ray pulled out of my mouth and gave his cock to Dave. Dave seemed to look at me from the corner of his eye and gloat. However, as he neared his third climax, Ray pulled out of Dave’s mouth and shouted, “Get ready, Joey! This cum’s fer you!” This time, I was not going to miss out on tasting his load, so I pushed against Ray’s abdomen with my forehead and controlled the amount of cock he could feed me. I kept the head of his cock cradled neatly on my tongue and greedily slurped up Ray’s third load. It was slightly peppery, but tasty just the same. Spent, he pulled away from me slowly, as if he didn’t want to ever leave my mouth then made his way to the sinks to clean up as well. Dave was pissed and began to brutalize my body as he rode me. He called me a cum slut, and dug his fingers into my nipples and bit harder at my shoulders, but I didn’t care. He pulled off of me and spun in front of me. In one swift maneuver, he had propelled his Todd-spooge-covered dick into my mouth. While he pistoned in and out, he began to slap my ass really hard. Finch’s voice called out, “Dave.” They didn’t say anything, so I don’t know what transpired between them, but Dave suddenly dropped his abuse down a couple of notches. I was getting confused again. What was going on with Finch? Punching and kicking were okay, but slapping my ass too forcefully was out? Nonetheless, Dave pushed in and out of my mouth with the same forcefulness he began with. About ten more pushes and he was groaning, firing his pleasure and anger and cum deep into my throat. He planted both of his hands on the back of my head and pushed for all his might. He had stopped cumming, but wasn’t letting me come up. I was gagging and struggling for air. I was about to bite down when Dave’s dick seemed to explode from my mouth. A startled “Wha’ th’ fuck?” emanated from Dave as Finch forced him away from me. Todd and Ray moved forward to hold back Dave. In the interim, they had begun getting back into their clothes. I could hear them rummaging around for their discarded clothing while Dave was fucking my windpipe closed. Finch leaned down to check on me. I was still gagging and gasping for breath. Snot and tears were running down my face from the denial of air. “Are you alright . . . ,” I thought Finch seemed genuinely concerned. His eyes showed signs of compassion, his voice seemed empathetic, I was nearly suckered in again until he added the dreaded name, “Faggot?” Todd held back Dave while Ray joined me and Finch. Finch merely leaned down, hands on his knees, looking at me. Ray, on the other hand, was kneeling next to me, trying to get me to a sitting position. His right hand rubbed my back gently as he supported me with his left. “Are you O.K., Joey?” There was genuine concern in Ray’s question. He looked up at Finch and then over darkly at Dave. “What the fuck is yer problem, shithead?” Ray hollered. I was amazed that when he was angry he could actually enunciate. (I notice weird shit like that.) “Whadda you care, Ray? He’s only a stinkin’ faggot!” Dave returned. “Ya seemed alrigh’ with beat’n’ th’ shit outta him b’fore. What’s so differen’ now? You goin’ sweet on th’ li'l pansy?” “Shut the fuck up or I’ll kick the shit out of you and see how you like it! The way I remember it, you were goin’ at my cock like a fuck’n’ whore yerself. So who’s the faggot now, Dave?” Ray was getting worked up to a level that showed he meant business. Dave wasn’t very booksmart, but he at least knew when to shut his mouth. Finch looked from Ray to Dave and said, “Alright, get your shit together and get the fuck out of here.” “Bu . . . ,” Dave began to say something, but one look from Finch cut him off. “Fuck you, asshholes!” Dave exclaimed as he bent over to pick up his clothes. That was all it took for Ray to launch himself at Dave. After four or five good punches to the head and about the same amount of knees to the mid-section, Dave had the wind knocked from his sails. It took both Todd and Finch to pull Ray a couple of feet away from Dave who had backpedaled as far as he could to cower against the wall. Ray looked down at Dave and said, “I’d better not see you for a while, mother-fucker! If I do, I’ll kick your scrawny little ass across the county and into next year!” “Alright, that’s enough,” Finch said. His tone said he meant business. I still don’t know what he has that the others listen to him like they do. “Get your shit and get out of here.” Ray eyed Finch for a minute then asked, “What about Joey?” “What about him?” “Whadd’re ya goin’ ta do to ‘im if we leave?” Ray continued. He walked over to me and handed me some toilet paper from one of the stalls. “Here, Joey, clean yerself up.” I was startled to see him go against Finch like this. Normally, he would just do what he was told. Now, he was asking questions. And what about the weight of the word "if" in his last statement? What was it I was witnessing here? I know I should have been worried about myself at this point, but I was confounded by the events unfolding. I guess I had made an ally here. “What are you askin’ me all of these questions for, Ray?” Finch’s tone grew even more ominous; it was clear he wasn’t used to being questioned about his decisions. “I just wanna know what yer gonna do to Joey if we leave. That’s all.” “Ray, you and Todd and Dave get the fuck out of here now! I’ll take care of this; you just get outta here and let me handle it.” Ray stepped between Finch and me. I thought it was going to come to another fight. “I’m not leavin’ Joey if yer plannin’ ta hurt ‘im.” There it was, the ultimatum! I noticed that Ray had returned to his slanged-out speech pattern, so I didn’t know what to think of that. Still, I could see Finch fuming as if he were going to go after Ray. This hadn’t happened between them since our class had a senior party the night after our last day of high school. They had been drunk back then, too. (Remember, I told you about my class’s get-togethers being little melodramas.) It was sort of a joke that they were both in their underwear and some of the guys thought it would be funny if they got Ray and Finch to kiss-and-make-up. In their drunken states, they did, then promptly passed out. But that was then, and they didn’t seem to be all that drunk now. Were events repeating themselves? Here we have Ray and Finch—one with his pants only half way up, his dick hanging out, the other completely naked, respectively,—close to fighting. Back then, it had been over a girl. Tonight . . . . I had no illusions about how this fight would end. With Ray still feeling the affects of the alcohol and his pants hanging loosely (an obvious deficit if they were to begin fighting), and Finch, I suspected, was totally clear-headed and naked as the day he was born. The advantage was clearly Finch’s. I wasn’t sure how to intervene. I knew, however, that I would back Ray in any way I could. I’m not a slouch at the gym, but most of my workouts were to shape and tone, not to build muscle mass and strength. I wouldn’t be of much help, but I would try. Finch’s reply left me thunderstruck. “Nothing is going to happen to the faggot. Get out of here; we’re done.” Finch eyed the others, who finished getting dressed. “Go on, I’ll make sure he gets out.” Despite Finch’s assurances, Ray remained after Dave and Todd had left. Finch hadn’t made a move to get dressed, but he hadn’t made a move toward me either. Ray eyeballed Finch, who went over to the urinal to piss. I quickly began to collect my stuff. I wasn’t going to be leaving here after Ray was gone, that was for sure! It didn’t take me too long to figure out that my clothes were useless, they had been destroyed in the initial assault. When he noticed the state of my clothes, Ray offered, “I’ve got some stuff at home you can wear. I’ll go and get them, it won’t take me too long.” “Thanks, Ray . . . I . . . ,” I muttered and stopped. I know now how ridiculous that sounds, considering he had been one of my assailants, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at that point. Ray and I looked over to where Finch was shaking his dick at the urinal. Still naked, he walked nonchalantly to the row of sinks and began to wash himself. He took his time, looking at my naked body in the mirrors from time to time. He picked up his clothes, slipped his khaki shorts on, rolled his boxers and undershirt into his shirt, stepped into his worn Doc Martins and left. “No problem, Joey. It’ll take me about an hour to get home and back, will you be okay?” Ray asked. “I think I’ll be alright,” I answered. “Joey, I’m sorry . . . .” Ray looked at the floor while he said it. I was shaking both from the sudden cold I was feeling and from the gamut of emotions I had run in the last hour or so. Ray noticed my trembling and moved to place my costume cape around me. It didn’t do much to abate my tremors, but I appreciated the gesture just the same. I didn’t know how Ray would feel about my hugging him, so I stood there mutely in the ugly, green restroom. Neither of us looked at the other. It was Ray who finally broke the silence, “Well, I’ll just go get those clothes fer ya. It won’t take me too long. I promise. Just stay inside by the doors and wait for me to get back. O.K.?” He looked directly into my eyes when he said it. I noticed they were blue. They were a light blue in the center with rings of a darker shade around the outside. I didn’t break the gaze. He looked awkwardly at his watch and said, “Shit! It’s 3:45 a.m. Theresa’s going to kill me! Look, Joey, I’ve gotta get goin’. I’ll be real quick, so don’t worry.” He turned quickly and left the restroom. I took another five minutes in the restroom cleaning myself up, assessing bruises, getting cum out of my hair and other places. That’s when I realized I hadn’t cum yet. Stupid, I know, but I told you I was a horny guy. Besides, studies have shown that guys use sex to relieve stress and right about now, I was sitting on the Mount Vesuvius of all stress. I figured I had some time before Ray got back with his clothes, so I decided I’d rub one or two out before he got back. I lay down on the floor and began to rub my body. I felt my ribs where I had been kicked; yep, I’d have a nice bruise for a while. My stomach was sore, but I was getting over that already. I noticed that Finch must have pulled his punches or something because I wasn’t really in any pain from where he had been hitting me. It was only that bastardly Dave who had kicked me in the ribs and punched me in the face. I bunched up the remainder of my costume and made a bit of a pillow for my head. I used my destroyed posing strap to create a sort of cloth dildo. I bunched it up and pushed it up against my hungry bunghole. I was super horny and found a part of me regretting that I let Ray go home. He probably wouldn’t fuck me now, and I needed it badly. I began to gently caress my chest and abdomen as my dick began to harden. I didn’t touch it as it sawed up to full erection. I was thinking about the cocks I had just had. Yes, I know I was forced, but I don’t know that I can call it rape. I began thinking about Ray. How his dark hair fell into his eyes; how his muscles were strong and firm. I remembered the size, shape, smell, taste, feel, texture and heat of his penis as he filled my mouth with it. I remembered how tender he had been, how he had been almost like a lover. I leaned up on my elbows and stopped my reminiscing. I couldn’t afford to get hooked on Ray. He was married to Theresa. He had a job, a mortgage, and three kids. He was straight. “Fuck yourself, Joey! You are fucking messed up!” I spoke aloud to myself in the eerie restroom that echoed my lament. “I’d like to see that.” I jumped a mile out of my skin. I turned. It was Finch. He was leaning against the stall, lewdly stroking his engorged cock which he pointed right at me. “Ray’ll be right back, Finch . . . .” I didn’t bother to continue the lame threat. He knew how long it would take Ray to get back. I was alone with Finch after all. “I see you’re still hard.” Finch smirked at my erection which was slowly bobbing with my heartbeat. “Finch, I . . . ,” I began, “Look, why can’t you just leave me alone?” His only answer was to move over to stand above me, his excited dick pointing the way. I looked up at him, a mixture of fear, loathing, and desire (if I were truly honest with myself) crossing my face. “You’re still hard,” he repeated in a hoarse whisper. “What are we gonna do about it?” I began to shake again. My nerves couldn’t take it anymore. “Finch, why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” I was staring up his naked body into his dark brown eyes. His red hair was haloed by the florescent lighting. His pink skin was vibrant, his dick was waving at me. Finch slowly smiled his handsomest smile, the one that told me he was about to fuck with me one last time. His teeth were white, his smile widened like he were the Cheshire Cat. He began doing controlled muscle-ups with his dick (You know how; you contract your groin muscles to get your cock to bounce up and down.) “We both know you want it. I’ve been watching you since Ray left.” I went cold at his words, yet it was true I craved touching him. I was nearly mesmerized by his robust cock bouncing merrily in front of my face. I felt the blood rushing in opposing directions, half to my face, half to my cock. I silently wondered which head would win. “I think you’re hot to get fucked. Aren’t you? I saw you shove your strap up your ass.” It was true, I had done that. In fact, I was still sitting on it and could feel its pressure against my anus. The contention still raged between my two heads. He was being very seductive, yet every atom in my being was crying out not to trust him. “I can fix you up with what you need . . . . I can hit that spot no one else has ever found for you . . . . C’mon, ask me to fuck you . . . .” My cock was to the point of being over-filled with blood; it was getting slicker my the moment. My uppermost head was losing to the one-eyed super-brain below my navel. Noticing the crack in my resolve, Finch moved an inch closer. His dancing dick nearly touching my lips. “Go ahead, have a taste . . . . You’ve wanted this since eighth grade . . . .” It was true. His voice was breaking me down. I could feel my head nodding toward his cock that was so close to my mouth and nose that I could feel its heat. I could smell my dried saliva on his skin. I was annoyed with myself that his tactic of pausing at the end of each statement was working. How it left me with the impression that they were my ideas, he was only voicing them for me. How the pauses made feel like I was hanging, suspended by his pendulous cock swaying heavily before me. “Open up . . . . Just a little . . . . I’ll do the rest . . . .” I made the mistake of looking into his eyes again. And then I felt my lips parting, my head moving only slightly forward. Then my lips were wide apart, my mouth was filled with just the head of the beautiful, bouncing cock. It barely registered that he sighed as he gently eased his dick into my mouth. I didn’t notice his hand stroking my hair, the other reaching gently to tweak my nipple. I disregarded any warnings when he took my wrists and held them behind my head. I was focusing on only two of my senses—taste and smell. I was caught up in the joy of having him invade my mouth. I was in more danger than I could have ever imagined. There was no forcefulness behind his pushing me away from his penis. It was more like a nudge than being pushed. That got my attention. I looked up into those dark eyes. Fuck me for my fatal weakness: redheads. Fuck me that I was so screwed in the head that I was kneeling at the feet of one of my worst tormentors in my teenage years. Fuck me that I had not been more vigilant that I allowed him to sneak up on me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me . . . it was my new mantra. Finch looked down at me. His eyes had a mesmerizing effect on me, like the eyes of a serpent that can hypnotize its prey; I knew that if I looked him in the eyes that I would be at his mercy; and he is so cock-sure of himself that he gives me that smirk again. Why is he so sexy? Why do I give him this power over me? I was so caught up in a brain feaver that I hadn’t heard him. I refused to look anywhere but at his entrancing red pubic bush. He gently pushed my head back further. The head of his cock pulled out of my mouth with a resounding pop. I stared blankly, mouth open, focusing on that one place in the universe that I belonged, that intensely hot, perfect, cylinder of flesh and blood that is Finch’s penis. He forced me to make eye contact and asked, “How badly do you want me to fuck you, . . . Joey?” Should I continue this or let it go? Questions, comments, flames, blah, blah, blah.... Email: Bud_83@hotmail.com

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/odessa-ranch/odessa-ranch-9

Date: Sat, 9 Jun 2001 02:03:43 EDT From: Savagetrainer@aol.com Subject: 'Odessa Ranch 9'{Ian Jacobs}( MM, sm, ws, scat, bd )[ 8 of ? ] For those who have followed this tale from way back, I apologize for the lapse of several months. I cannot promise it won't happen again, but I can promise to try. Write if you like, I respond to most. Odessa Ranch Part 9, Greener Grass Usually life for those above us looks easy. It's the nature of things for us to think that, and to strive to meet an easier way. Mike spent the same 6 weeks as a honeyboy as everyone else, and stable time like Nick, and his time in the fields. His only perspective was from his end of the lash; from that end, it appears that the man holding the lash has the easier time. The problem with that perspective is that it is incomplete. At the moment of the thrashing, Mike's view is correct, but what about the times when he doesn't see his punisher? A Brief Essay on Onanism Mike ordered the honeyboys to stare downward and sat on the edge of one of the toilets and watched his four mules struggle for enough control and supremacy to cum. The idea of commanding each other was now totally foreign to Nick, Ty, Seth and Jayson. Each was in the habit of engaging in sex often, but it was done in a shorthand manner where they would pair off with another slave who was nearby and exchange like for like. Now, instead of just one other to play with, each slave had two others. The variety was as overwhelming as it was titillating. Ty would begin sucking one cock and move on the instant another came his way. The cock that had just been in Ty's mouth, newly lubed, would go into Jayson's ass. Jayson's mouth held Ty's cock and sometimes another. Nick spent his time trying to get his cock into Seth's ass, but Seth seemed to want to get his cock into Nick's, but since they no longer had words for that kind of frustration (assuming they would bother to speak at all under the present circumstances), they would move on and either kiss while their cocks were in the other two, or make attempts to fingerfuck the other when their hand was near the other's hole. And on and on. Despite there being such a large number of slaves in relatively close quarters, orgies were not common on the ranch. Fatigue played a major role in that, but the simple fact that their training tended to leave them craving a quick cum from whomever is handy played a larger one. Threesomes weren't uncommon, but slave's honor left that a difficult situation since the one in the middle was then forced to choose whom to cum in--and choices weren't just foreign anymore, they were things to fear, things to cause anxiety. Mike made sure that each of them had one orgasm. Once he was sure one did, he'd check that one off and pay closer attention to another. The whole thing went on for about forty-five minutes and left each slave sweaty, sticky, panting. Mike didn't permit them another shower, so they prepared to leave the shower nearly as filthy as when they came in. "You and you," he pointed at Ty and Jayson, "back to your quarters." "Sir yes sir." Seth and Nick instinctively stood at slave's attention, back straight, eyes downcast. This was a pose they learned by watching others, not something that was always enforced--they never did it for the trustees who were also naked, but only for the hands; clothing signified rank Under Mike's new clothing was his cock, unaccustomed to being restrained. It hurt in a way that it hadn't since perhaps high school, rock hard and bound behind stiff cloth. He wouldn't take his uniform off while watching the slaves fuck because it was a breech of rank now. He knew he had never seen a hand's ass, only his cock sticking out of his denims; he knew what that meant. And he wasn't going to jerk off while slaves fucked. What kind of message would that send? Masturbation is the rarest form of sex on the ranch. In the world outside the ranch, even a man who could fuck anyone whenever he got hard would still want sometimes to engage in his adolescent pastime--cuming without responsibility, controlling speed and pressure with his exquisite hand rather than with the less dexterous hips and legs. Quick toss, quick rush, no worries. On the ranch though, that form of sex is both insulting and extremely selfish. Jerking off while sucking someone is perfectly fine, but jerking off alone isn't. In the symbolic language of Odessa Ranch, jerking off tells anyone who sees it that the slave performing it thinks he is better than everyone else. It tells them that he wants to be removed, even if just briefly, from his brothers. This is an extension of the message sent with cum. Cuming in a slave implies full acceptance. Cuming on them is intend to, and does, humiliate them; pulling out of their ass to cum on their back is less humiliating than pulling out to cum on their face. But the most humiliating form is to cum with them watching, but have all of it land on the ground. That is the unspoken message that the slave is beneath contempt. So by the time someone becomes a hand, they are fully fluent in the language of cum. Mike wasn't going to jerk off when he had Seth's ass to cum in, waiting was nothing new to him, nor was denial and privation. Watching the slaves orgy was just something to increase his own desire, to increase the power of his own orgasm. "What's your name slave?" "Sir Seth Sir." "On all fours Seth." "Sir yes sir." "You. I want you behind him. I want you to stick your tongue up his ass and force as much of your slave spit into his perfect hole." "Sir yes sir." Nick knelt and moved his hands to part Seth's buttocks to get at the hole where only Nick's finger had previously gone, no slave had fucked him during the orgy. "No faggot, I want those hands behind your back." "Sir yes sir." Seth pushed his ass a little farther out so that his hole was a bit easier to access. Nick complied with Mike's orders and inserted his tongue into the hairless hole. His sweat was salty and a bit musky from the orgy. Nick had no trouble producing the spit Mike wanted. He was all but drooling at the prospect. His tongue was slick and nervous, like his cock the first time he fucked anyone. His tongue opened Seth's eager hole and he could smell the fecundity, Nick was immediately hard from that. His cock hadn't reacted strongly when Mike ordered Nick to lube his Adonis's hole--his recent squirts and just the desire to comply to the order meant there was no special stimulation. The smell brought him from the order to the exact moment. This moment when he was as close as he had ever been to fulfilling an elemental desire. He darted his tongue in and quickly out of Seth's hole, both slaves' cocks dripping precum. "I think that's got it good and silky faggot. Back to your quarters." Hesitation. For the first time since arriving, Nick didn't hear an order. Mike pulled the crop from his boots and brought it down, aimed at Nick's crack. The crop wrapped almost expertly down the crack so that the frayed end hit Nick's tight balls. Nick yelped and jumped back. "Back to your quarters faggot!" "Sir yes sir." Nick sulked out of the shower; he had seen into the gates of his promised land, but was forced away without being allowed in. "Seth, that ass of yours is the sweetest thing I've had since I got here." "Sir yes sir." Mike took his time. He wouldn't have to reciprocate. He could take his time knowing that once he came he would be sleeping in a bed for the first time since leaving Utah for the ranch. He was puffed up with pride and with a simple, immediate desire to feel his cock inside this German's ass, to see his cock slide in and out of the tanned and slightly scarred ass of this beautiful youth. In the time to follow, the time after the orgasm, Mike might think back. He might realize that he had never been in a position like this. As all of the slaves here, he had been a submissive. He had wanted sex to happen to him, but more than that. He wanted decisions to happen for him, choices not to occur, wanted orders to be followed by action. He had fucked before, but it had always happened as part of the slave agreement that he would allow the slave to do the same to him--or he was fucking a slave who had already cum in his ass. Those were done as animal acts of quick want and desire and flash-passion. Now he could take his time. He could have taken his time before, but that was something close to masturbation--if a slave took his sweet time too often, he would find himself ostracized for being rude. Now he could slow down and watch his red cock slide slowly, very slowly into the pink hole. Feel the feathery tickle, move up the shaft while the silky pressure at the head of his penis increased. His orgasm was enormous and almost female in its length. After he finished, his still hard cock stayed fully buried in Seth's ass. Seth was still, eyes half open. The honeyboys were still and remained with eyes downcast. The only thing moving in this tableau was Mike's chest. Heart and lungs continued to climax a bit after the orgasm. All else was without motion. "Go on, back to your quarters." "Sir yes sir." If Mike had bothered to reach around and jerk Seth's cock while he fucked him, he might have noticed that it wasn't as hard and didn't drip precum the same way it had when Nick was preparing him. The Bunkhouse Baptism Mike headed to the bunkhouse. He wasn't horny, he wasn't nervous, he wasn't even excited anymore. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't know that he wasn't quite finished. "Grab him." Mike didn't know who said that, nor did he know the names of the two men who followed the order, one on each arm. They carried him to a bed farthest from the door. The bunkhouse looked like an army barracks at basic training. There were two rows of beds, one row along each far wall--they were all singles, all made of wood (no bunk beds). Mike kept quiet, falling back on his slave habits. The two laid him on the far bed and deftly bound his wrists and ankles to the short bedposts. "Gather 'round." It was the same voice that he heard when he came in. He was beginning to panic a little. Did he break a rule he knew nothing about? Was his kindness to the four slaves he had chosen as mules an infraction worthy of severe punishment? "Just enjoy it Mike, nothing to worry about." A whisper. He recognized it as a hand called Mark who had briefly marked Mike with his bandana several months back. He wriggled around a little to see where Mark was, but couldn't find him before the ritual began. Three men stood on either side of the bed, each pulled his cock from his cutoffs and started jerking off. Each man was quick about cuming, and each shot a fairly large load onto his torso, most trying to aim for his cutoffs. When one came, he was quickly replaced by another. Within five minutes only one hand remained standing at his bed: Mark. Mark was going slower, and had obviously maneuvered to be the last. Mike was covered in cum, some still quite hot, the rest cooling and beginning to gel and dry. Nothing to worry about? More than twenty men had jerked off onto him. He had been in a fraternity in college and thought this would be tantamount to watching every single brother drop a black ball on him when he had been a pledge. He opened his mouth to ask why, but Mark just shushed him with his eyes. Finally Mark's hand sped up and he too squirted his load onto Mike's stomach. Mark buttoned his denims after sliding his shrinking cock back into place. Then he wordlessly began to rub the loads of cum around his chest, thighs, and denims. Mike opened his mouth again, and was again quickly, gently shushed. Mark's hands were matter-of-fact, they just rubbed the cum around with no more attention or passion than soaping a car. "Lift your ass off the bed Mike." "Sir y . . ." He stopped himself from finishing. Mark smiled at him. Then wiped his hands on the butt of Mike's denims. "Night Mike, we'll untie you in the morning." He was still confused. He knew the humiliation of watching as cum he thought would be in him land on the floor in front of him. He knew it as a part time slave before joining the ranch, and knew it as a slave here. He had seen other slaves similarly dressed down by hands who wanted to send a message with far more clarity than would be achieved by the lash or a few days as a honeyboy again. Now he felt his skin tighten beneath the cooling, drying goo. Every hand came on him. Was this their way of reminding him that he was the low man on the totem pole? This is what he would muse on as he fell asleep. He didn't have the experience any longer to conceive the real reasons behind the ritual. What Mark did with the cum, of course, was what removed the stigma from the otherwise humiliating act of cuming on him. This was the first time many of the hands had seen Mike as a fellow hand--since there is work to be done, not all could have witnessed his trial. They had all undergone the same ritual, none of whom was around when it was implemented. Mark knew some of the thoughts that were going through Mike's head, and knew it was essential for Mike to work out on his own the fact that his baptism was not an insult. Mark mixed the cum of all the hands into a welcoming salve. ( There was nothing particularly symbolic about the bindings though, it was born of necessity. Other hands realized that it stopped their new member from going and washing it off, it forced them to stay in bed and think about the possible implications.) Few of the hands figured out quickly what the baptism meant, many had to be on the other end, cuming on the new guy, before they really understood the significance. The Post Mark untied Mike just before they all went to the shower. "How did you sleep?" "Why did you all do that?" "Ain't sayin'. How did you sleep guy?" "So-so I guess." Actually that was a lie. Even if he hadn't been bound, he wouldn't have slept that well. He had grown used to a warm pillow that breathed. He was used to the feel of another man, other men sleeping under and on him. Even with the bindings, he wasn't uncomfortable in comparison with his more recent nights sleeping on the ground, but he was so used to it, that the new way would take a little getting used to. He hadn't expected that at all. "You'll get used to it. It took me a couple of nights to get used to it myself." Mike showered with his denims on to get as much of the cum out of them as possible. It wouldn't make for a comfortable ride on his horse perhaps, but it was necessary. He was still too confused from the night before to spend too much time bullying the honeyboys. He contented himself with just pissing on one of them. Since Mark seemed to be his new mentor, perhaps the first real mentor he's had since arriving here. He followed him to the stables. Mark made Nick remove the saddle from his and Mike's horses. Then he showed Mike how to saddle the horse. It took a couple of tries before Mike was able to do it; the others had been gone for some time. "Sorry about this." "You don't have to apologize. Even the few hands that did this before had forgotten exactly how while tendin' to the corn and shit. Relax Mike, I ain't never seen a hand get sent back to the fields, and you ain't doin' nothing none of us didn't do before you." Mark wanted to make sure Mike would be able to saddle his horse without having to ask for help. "Why did you make the slave take the saddle off?" Mike asked as they rode out to where the herd was grazing. "You going to take one of those slaves with you all the time? You got to know how to do it yourself. You won't have to do it much, but that don't excuse you from knowin'." Mike had no idea how to ride. He had learned to be a good mimic though--the only real way to learn on the ranch. But he apparently wasn't doing something right because Mark said, "You ride like that and you won't be walkin' in the mornin'. Gonna have blue balls worse than you ever had before. Do it like this." He showed Mike how to adjust his posture, how to hold the reins. "The rest you got to work out for yourself." Then as they approached the herd, Mark added: "Just stick close to me, but back, understand? Just watch what everybody does for a couple of days. I'll show you a couple of things, but mainly you just need to watch and keep away from the cattle. You fuck up and it could be a world of hurt." Mike thought, if it occurred to him to consider it at all, that Mark was just being cliched. He didn't know that it was ambiguous. A bit away from the cattle and the hands watching them was a post similar to the one that all slaves get introduced to on their first day. Mike didn't notice it when they rode past it, he was too busy looking at the mass of cattle--he was now part of the team that was to make sure they stayed together and moved together; he had never done anything like it before (he was amazed at the sight of a couple hundred, maybe more, cows and calves. It was nothing like the movies). It wasn't long before he would see it up close and realize why it was there. He followed Mark around as best he could. His horse was docile, but it didn't matter. It was like learning to drive a manual transmission for the first time--it didn't matter how patient you and the instructor might be, it still takes some jerking and stalling before you get the hang of it. Mark noticed something in the distance and hustled off to take care of it, neglecting to tell Mike to stay put. Mike followed as best he could, but his horse seemed to know better and was trying to stay back. Mike was insistent and prodded his horse to a semblance of a run so he wouldn't be too far behind his mentor. The horse finally decided that enough had been reached and went into a dead run. Mike could barely handle the thing at a trot, at a full gallop . . . he was hopeless. He did what most do, and pulled back on the reins, but since the horse was already pissed, putting him in that kind of pain only adds fuel to his fire. So his horse spun around and headed back towards the thick of the herd. Mike had zero control over his animal. Another hand saw what was going on, and more importantly what would happen if it came to its own logical conclusion. He bolted for Mike. He was able to whisk around the herd and come up along Mike's horse just as it began to scatter the herd. Mike's horse began to slow on his own, just the presence of someone who knew what he was doing seemed to calm the animal. Other hands had rushed around behind this action to quell the scattering. Mike opened his mouth to apologize, the hand just looked sternly and shook his head. "What happened?" Mark asked the hand; he had rushed back once he realized that Mike had lost control, but was already so far ahead that he hadn't been able to close the distance fast enough. "He lost control of his horse." Mike wanted to apologize again, but the looks on the hands' faces froze him. He lost control of this horse, but had managed to stay on it, nobody was hurt. Mike was embarrassed, but didn't understand why they would all look like he'd killed someone. The hand sauntered off and Mark moved in. "Well, it happens to most of us, but that don't mean much." "What's going on?" "Couple of things. You could have caused a stampede. Your first thing to learn is to control your horse. So you're going to have to pay for it I'm afraid." "How?" "I told you, I ain't seen nobody sent back to the fields. But you learn this same way you learned shit when you were in the fields. C'mon." A lashing? On one hand it made perfect sense, on the other . . . . Mike thought that hands were the top of the punishment chain. He was about to understand that, while true, it just meant that punishment for a hand was the other hands' responsibility. Mike followed Mark glumly. A couple of other hands peeled away from the vigil. All horses and riders headed for the post. Mark got off his horse and held the reins for his and Mike's horse. Mike got off and walked to the post. One of the other hands rode over. "Hands up, against the post." Mike did as he was told, consciously suppressing the need to say sir. The hand wrapped rope around his wrists and the post several times and tied it off quickly. Then he got off his horse and approached Mike. "This could be worse. You only got three witnesses, if you had caused a stampede . . . we'd all get to watch and whip you." He unbuttoned Mike's denims and pulled them to his ankles. "As it is, you only get 5 lashes. It doubles each time you repeat the same mistake." His words were delivered without heat, without opinion. Mike understood that the way of the ranch was the way for all groups. He would take these lashes the same way he had most of those before it. The only problem with these were that they were the first he'd had from a horsewhip since Buck had given him the order to shit three years earlier. The hand stood at a dozen or so paces back of Mike's naked back and ass. He delivered the first lash down the full length of his back, ass and thigh. Mike struggled not to scream. The second lash was as long as the first, just mirrored on the other side. His head jerked all the way back and he choked a little. He didn't want to yell, he wanted to let them see him take his lashes like a man, not like a scared slave. The last three lashes cris-crossed the parallels he'd set with the first two. Mike shivered. He was a bit shocky. He'd completely forgotten the reality of the pain involved at his end of the horsewhip. From his first experience he could tell you it hurt, that it felt like a swath of forceful fire being pushed against his skin, but being able to say that, doesn't mean he could really recall what it felt like. "You spend the rest of the mornin' like that. We'll come get you come lunch." The hand and the other rode back to the herd. "It don't look too bad Mike. I'll be back to get you in a couple of hours." Looking at the grain in the wooden post, standing in pain and naked, sweating from hurt and embarrassment, there was only one thing he could do: think. He had to think of a way to avoid having that happen again. Thoughts after a lashing with a horsewhip aren't necessarily the clearest, but if you can't pass out from the treatment, you don't really have any other options. He looked over at his horse though, and believed he saw a little smug malice in her eyes. Mark untied him a couple of hours later and led him back to lunch. Mike expected to be badmouthed or totally ignored when he got back. Instead, people just laughed a bit and took a look at his back. At first this was as confusing as the night before, then it began to sink in. He wasn't making mistakes that most hadn't. He hadn't done anything seriously wrong. His back and ass hurt, but that was nothing new. This was just the tail end of his initiation of sorts. Breaking the Cardinal Rule There is only one rule at the ranch guaranteed to bring real wrath. Every slave is told the first day they enter, and it is not mentioned again, until someone breaks it. Escape isn't possible because no one is actually held prisoner. True they are kept naked, true they have no money (none are aware of the cash kept for them in trust for when they leave until they actually leave); but they know they can walk away from their post, say the magic word to Buck and be back in the mundane population in very short order. Insubordination is handled by the lash. The one thing they are told is against the rules is falling in love. Love acts as a virus that will disrupt the morale of the body of the ranch. The order kept is tenuous because it is kept by an unspoken agreement between those on the ranch. The law is one of kindred spirits, not a binding instrument that insists that life at the ranch follow these prescribed set of mutable laws. Order is essential to the ranch being run as the haven it is for those whom it serves (ironically enough). Love leads to jealousy leads to animosity leads to chaos. Stopping it as it starts is the only option. Ty took care not to act as a pillow to any of his cabin mates. He knew when they've all fallen asleep and quietly scampers away from his cabin toward one further on. Outside it is another slave about his age, only less stocky, less weathered. "Kiss me sweet." Adam said to his crawling mate. In the barn, awake, Nick wanted to cry. It wasn't out of sadness but of frustration. He didn't have to struggle not to, he'd have to struggle to make it happen--crying was something that stopped being an option weeks earlier and he'd forgotten how. He wanted to know where Seth was right now, wanted to brave any number of lashes to find him and end what he began and to offer his own ass to that uncut cock he had jerked off the night before and sucked just hours earlier.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/odessa-ranch/odessa-ranch-11

Date: Sat, 24 Aug 2002 01:26:18 EDT From: Savagetrainer@aol.com Subject: Odessa Ranch 11 The actual damage was minimal, especially when compared to the level and length of the punishment. This is what everyone wanted. Swift, severe, unfair, painful, humiliating were adjectives that, to a slave, they all wanted to feel. The treatment as honeyboys is typically so far beyond what any of them had experienced before, that when they make it through, they realize that they are in what they would consider some sort of epic paradise. Like basic training, it reshapes them into something more than they were before. Perhaps unlike basic (or more accurately, unlike the men-cum-soldiers who endure it), these slaves become addicted to, entranced in, the brutality of the initial weeks. So much so, they gladly remain. Cages Dax knew what was coming next, at least in general; he didn't know what Buck would choose to do the job. Buck would return shortly and focus on the process of turning at least one of the offenders against the other (it occurred to him from the night he and Ty spent in Buck's office that Buck wouldn't have to succeed in turning both against the other; it might equate to a victory, but it might also take far more time and energy to do it-one would easily be enough). But Dax also knew that he would not be the one to break. For Dax, this was all part of the game, part of his paradise. He wasn't smiling or joyful in any real sense of the word, but he was certainly turned on and fully engaged. He had the burning in the pit of his stomach that he always got just before he was whipped, a burning craving, unmitigated sexual want. And his cock was rock hard in his shit-filled diaper, as it had been almost non-stop for a day and a half. He loved the less than brilliant boy across from him. That wouldn't change regardless of what was about to happen, but he was also ready (intellectually anyway) to accept the simple fact that shortly, Ty would no longer feel the same way. From the looks of it, Buck wouldn't have to try very hard. "You doing ok?" Dax saw Ty shivering, despite the heat; he obviously wasn't doing ok. Ty just stared at Dax. Dax couldn't tell if it was anger or hatred or even confusion. He did know though, that whatever passion his stare contained, it wasn't carnal. This chilled Dax far more than he thought it would. His hardon lost some of its tension and the rash on his ass and balls was becoming more noticeable. "Ty?" "I hate this." Ty turned around to face away from Dax. He was still shivering. He had wanted for more than a day to rip the diaper off and face whatever consequence he had just to scratch his burning ass. This morning, he no longer cared. He believed he would eventually be out of the diaper, out from under the smell of his own shit, and what is worse, his fellow slave's shit-some of which was beginning to drip from the diapers on top of his cage. Until now, Ty never questioned anyone in authority over him at the ranch. What they did, they did. He could take his lashes like anyone else and have a stronger cum because of it. He could suffer the humiliation like most other slaves, sublimating the embarrassment into a horny urge, all without bothering to question why. Why was never a favorite concept for Ty outside the ranch, it stopped being any concern of his when he stripped for his inspection months before. Until now. Now he couldn't get his mind around how anyone could concoct such a punishment. This took humiliation to a level that he never considered existed. At least as a honeyboy, he knew the man in front of him--pissing on him or whipping him-was getting something out of the situation (as Ty was). Ty didn't see anyone taking pleasure in his and his fellows' suffering. Ty never saw any other witnesses to the ordeal, and there was no way in his mind anyway, that the men controlling it could stomach the smell of a dozen men wearing days worth of shit. For the first time since being whipped at the post when he entered, he wasn't having fun. The price for a score of, admittedly great, orgasms was four days of torment that would never have entered his mind even in his most frantic jerk off fantasies. He concluded that what he felt for Dax was just lust, perfect, mutable, changeable lust. If Ty's world contained love before, it no longer did. He wanted to cry. He had really been broken. Emerging from being a honeyboy, he was broken in, broken into the functionings of the ranch. His spirit was wholly intact. Now, as he saw Buck approach, his spirit was rent. "Please sir. Please I don't want no more." Begging was new to Ty. "What?" "Please let me out of this. This sucks." "That it does, but you're not finished." Buck knew the ordeal was nearly over. He didn't think Ty was bright enough to pull off this as a performance. He knew the kid meant it. He knew that whatever Ty felt, it wasn't now, and never would be again, love. Ty started to whimper. Buck kicked the cage near his head. "Buck up you pile of shit." "Please." Buck ignored Ty and moved over to Dax's cage. "You ready?" "For what sir?" "It doesn't matter how smart you are, you won't be ready. It doesn't matter how smart you are, you won't feel the same about him by lunch." Buck opened Dax's cage. Dax crawled out and started to stand. Buck put a boot to Dax's neck and pressed the slave into the concrete. Dax struggled lightly at first, then stopped. Buck wanted the little phenom to know that he didn't see this as a game. He removed the boot and Dax kept his position. Buck opened Ty's cage and had to coax a little to get him out. "It's nearly over now." He whispered into the slave's ear. Buck took his whip from off his belt. Pointing the coiled whip at Dax, he asked Ty, "what's that?" "Sir a slave sir." "Is that all he is to you?" "Sir no sir." "Oh? What is he then?" Ty didn't know enough words. The slave with his head on the ground and ass pointing out as if ready to receive a cock would have nearly make Ty cum in his diaper just forty-eight hours before. Now what he saw he hated. Simple. "Sir he ain't shit no more." Buck chuckled a little. "Prove it." Buck handed Ty the whip. It was the certainty of the way these personalities, these desires, worked that kept the ranch from becoming a complete chaos. All were here by choice, those falling victim to whip and whim could, at any moment, decide that it was time to shake things up. They didn't. Even when one wanted to leave, he didn't bother trying to take anyone with him. He just walked to Buck, said the word, and was in Midland by sundown. Buck had just armed a slave pushed past the brink. There was no doubt in Buck's mind that he could quickly take Ty down if he attacked him, but he was just as certain Ty would try no such thing. Ty held the whip handle. He had never been on this side of it before (he had held a belt that he used on himself some, but never anything as powerful and meaningful as this). He was struck simultaneously by the need to whip Dax and the need to drop this thing whose business end was the only part he understood. He was a slave, always had been in his mind and now in body for several months. He was now given the instrument that symbolized his slavery, to use as a master would. "Having second thoughts?" "Sir . . . um no Sir. Can you make him stand up sir?" "You're the one with the whip boy, you do it." "Sir yes sir. Stand up slave." Dax complied as quickly as he would have had Buck given the order. But he was silent. He faced Ty and understood finally that 1) Ty as he knew him was gone, and 2) this was a whole new game. Buck walked over to Dax. "He's got a whip boy, you better treat him like he does." "Sir yes sir." "Grab one of them diapers boy off your cage and take it over to that post." Ty pointed to a whipping post near the barn. "Sir yes sir." Dax grabbed a diaper from his cage and walked to the post. It didn't take a genius to know what was about to happen. "Put that shitty diaper on the ground slave." "Sir yes sir." "Not like that slave, open it up." "Sir yes sir." Dax opened the diaper fully. The smell was beyond words. "Now, do twenty pushups, I want your face in that shit every time you go down." He moved to Dax's side, so he could get a better view. "Sir yes sir." Ty was too focused now to consider. Now that he had the whip, now that he had the chance to get back at the man he saw as causing this, he was using the same tactics he had questioned in the cage. He went from almost cursing the nameless person who invented this diaper treatment to using a form of it in minutes. He watched Dax do the pushups, counting as a slave would: sir one slavemaster sir. Ty began to salivate at the sight of this slave doing as he wanted, doing something so humiliating as diving face first into someone else's shit; further, though were his thoughts about the lashing. When Dax had reached the downbeat on the last pushup, Ty put his boot on his neck and forced him down and kept him there. Dax couldn't breathe, even if he had been able to bring himself to suck air through this pile of shit. He started to struggle, and after a moment of this, Ty removed his boot. Dax pulled up onto his hands and knees and panted. "Kneel in front of me." "Sir yes sir." "Look at me slave." "Sir yes sir." Ty looked at Dax. Dax's face was hidden, only his eyes and mouth were free of shit. Dax now looked and smelled like the thing Ty now believed him to be. Ty hocked up a lugie and spat it onto Dax's upturned face. "Now go over to that post slave." Ty said this very quietly, through a very tight jaw." "Sir yes sir." Both Ty and Buck noticed Dax's new tone. All the other assents had been said almost sarcastically. This time, it sounded defeated. Dax moved to the post and took the position, arms all the way up, palms on either side of the post. Ty quickly secured Dax's wrists. The first lash hit Dax's neck. This was a pain that he hadn't felt before and he yelled. (To the uninitiated, using a whip seems simple; in fact, it is pretty difficult to wield it in an effective way, or at least it takes practice, something Ty had none of). By the fifth one, they were landing solidly on Dax's back, and tears of both pain and disappointment began to fall onto his shit-covered cheeks. Buck stopped Ty at twenty. A little blood began to appear nearly dead center of Dax's back. Dax's head hung limply against one of his up stretched arms, in defeat. "Ok Ty, that's enough." Buck took the whip from the panting boy. Ty was covered in a specific kind of sweat-that generated by the sating of vengeance. For now, Dax was left where he was bound. Buck handed Ty his knife and told him to cut the diaper off himself. He was in such a hurry to do it, he nicked himself on the right and left side where he inserted the knife into the diaper. Buck hosed him down and gave him the tube the doctor had provided to the other slaves. "Go back to my office boy and let the doctor check you out. Then wait for me there." Buck said. "Sir yes sir." Ty left, nearly running. Buck turned to Dax. "Was I right?" "Sir yes sir." "Funny thing about you smart slaves, it doesn't matter how smart you are, you can't escape simple psychology." "Sir yes sir" Buck had been right. Dax no longer felt the same way about Ty that he did before this recent fiasco. He didn't feel the way Buck probably thought though. He hurt and was humiliated to low he would never have considered before; he stank and was beginning to think he would never be clean again, but what he felt was not hate. He felt something worse because it was something he didn't believe he would ever be rid of it. What he felt was a burning disappointment; this was like being dumped by someone he loved deeply in a horrific way. If pressed he would probably still say he loved the little urchin, but he no longer felt the same way he had. "You ready to clean up boy?" "Please sir." Buck untied the slave and ran through the same steps he had with Ty, also hosing off Dax's shit covered face. Dax was finally free of shit and the salve had worked immediately to remove most of the burning of his rash. His body felt like running, as Ty had, but his mind and heart felt otherwise. He followed Buck to his office. Pool House The exhausted slaves were timid at first. They sort of traveled as a group would through potentially dangerous territory. They were afraid to sit on any of the furniture or to go to the food table. Finally a couple braved going to get food while the others took turns in the shower, doubling up to save time and allow their mates quicker access. After a couple of hours, they were relaxed enough to eat, swim, nap, enjoy themselves. There were 10 cots set up for them in the pool house. They were never all occupied at the same time. Sam's chefs kept the table stocked as long as they had willing mouths, so they were basically working in shifts. Buck found this situation when he arrived after dropping off Dax to be inspected by the doctor. "Fall in fellas." The tone was more suggestion than order, but they responded as if it had been bellowed. One slave took the initiative to wake up the couple of nappers. "Y'all still have one more day of this, y'all recovering well?" General murmurs of consent, of content. "Good. But there is one more piece of business, hold on, it ain't bad," Buck had to quash the sense of fear that invaded their faces. "You were all told when this started that you could do whatever you want to Ty or Dax if you want. None of you is required to do it, but if you want to, you have to come with me now." Buck expected Pete and Aaron for certain and one or two others. He was a bit surprised. Pete needed no time to think. Seth was mulling it over as the remaining three from Ty's crew declined. A pair of twenty year old slaves from California, Tom and Mark, stepped next to Buck-they turned out to be the only ones from Dax's crew. "Aaron?" "I'm going to stay here, boss." "You sure?" "Yes sir." "Seth?" "I can do anything I want?" "Pretty much." With that Seth joined the vengeance crowd as they headed back to Buck's office. Payback Tom and Mark just wanted to make sure that Dax didn't escape this part of the punishment, especially since Aaron opted not to. They opted to whip him as Ty had done, each limited to 10. Like Ty, they proved very ineffective with the leather, but each was pleased to get a couple of satisfying yelps out of the subject of their torment. Dax was released as Tom and Mark returned to the pool house. The doctor took another quick look at Dax and pronounced him fine "all things considered." Buck sent him into his bedroom. On his way, Buck called for Ty to come out of the bedroom. The two former lovers passed each other; neither made eye contact. Dax saw which cot Ty had taken and lay face down on the other one and fell asleep in very short order. Buck knew that Pete would want the longest time and would probably require physical intervention to pull him off his smaller tormenter. So he decided to let Seth go first. He was very shocked to see what happened. Ty stood mostly erect, with his eyes staring almost straight down. He was more frightened now than he had been in the last couple of days. After his diaper was taped on, he pretty much knew what to expect, and while it wasn't easy, it wasn't frightening. Now he had to pay the real price for his behavior. Seth walked up very closely, close enough to whale on Ty, but he just said: "What did I tell you days ago about how places like this work?" "You said they make more than just the one pay." "Was I right?" "Yep." He was near tears. "Ok, can I go now, boss?" "What? Uh, yeah if that's all you want." "That's all, sir". "Git then." Now it was Pete's turn. He requested that Ty be suspended from the ceiling by his wrists. Buck had to get Pete to promise that he wouldn't use his fists on Ty in that position. Pete was given the tools to make it happen. With a little help from Buck, Pete was able to get Ty hanging so that he had to use his tip toes to relieve the stress on his wrists. Then Pete just stood back and watched for a while. "You going to do anything else?" Buck asked after about 5 minutes. "Do I have to do this fast boss? I was hoping I could take my time." "You plan on finishing before sundown?" "Yes sir, I just want to enjoy it." Buck was comfortable that Pete offered no mortal threat to Ty, so he dissolved into a far corner. Pete stood back and watched as Ty struggled to find some way to be less stretched. He was sweating heavily and beginning to drool. Then he started to struggle to breathe, and began to moan slightly. This was Pete's cue. He walked over to the hanging boy and grabbed his balls. And pulled down hard. The extra pressure pulled at his already agonized wrists. Ty screamed. "Beg me to whip you!" "Just do it." He struggled to say that much. "Beg me fucker, beg me or I just keep watching you hang there til you do." "Please whip me." The pain added a real sound of desperation to his voice. "Good, now beg me and call me master you piece of shit." "Please whip me master." Pete lowered Ty just enough for his feet to touch the floor fully. His wrists were given some relief, but with the pressure released a little, his shoulders exploded with pain. Pete was far handier with the whip than any of the others had been-he seemed to have Buck's touch even without Buck's experience. Ty screamed throughout the twenty lashes Buck allowed Pete. Pete's cock was dripping and hard. He walked over to the now slack slave. "Now beg me to fuck you." Through pants, Ty said, "Please fuck me master." Pete untied the rope keeping Ty hanging and Ty collapsed to the floor moaning. Pete positioned Ty to his ass was high and his face forced to the floor. He spit on the little man's asshole and raped him. He fucked Ty's tender ass with as much force as a full day of rest would allow him. Ty was essentially screamed out; he just grunted with each thrust. Pete pulled out before cumming. He squirted an enormous load onto Ty's wounded back. The hot load burned his newly whipped back and Ty found one more scream within him. "I think I'm done boss, can I go?" "Go on." Before he left though, Pete added a mouthful of spit to his jiz on Ty's back. "Ok little man, let's get you cleaned up." Buck helped Ty to his feet and led him to the bathroom. While Ty and Dax slept, and the other ten finished their last day in the pool house. Buck was going to have to finish the new cabin assignments. He had little doubt that once the description of this treatment spread through the fields, it would be quite a while before he had to face it again.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/no-glory/no-glory-2

Date: Sat, 13 Oct 2001 17:29:15 -0700 From: David's Tales Subject: No glory Part 2 David had made the mistake of letting lust control his actions at the adult bookstore last night, and in the process of some heavy man top man action that had started through Glory Holes; he had literally lost his pants. Inside his pants were his wallet, keys and all his cash. He had been forced to walk home in an outfit of frayed denim cut offs that barely covered the cheeks of his ass, and a crop top that was more like something his niece who lived with him would wear, than his usual attire. Somewhere in his lust induced fog he had been manipulated into exchanging clothes with Eddie, the flamboyant Philippino "fag" that was the resident cocksucker of the video arcade. As he was now waking up in his own bed he was trying to sort out if it had been a combination dream/nightmare or had it all really happened? The taste in his mouth, and unusual feeling in his ass was making it pretty clear he had lost his anal cherry last night to Mike, a young black male and sucked off at least a half dozen guys as well. But it wasn't until he got out of bed to go to the bathroom and he saw the outfit that he had come home in, did the intensity of humiliation he had endured become apparent. There was a full day ahead of David and he knew he had to put that all behind him and get ready for the schedule of events that were going to take place that day. His wife Becky and niece Lori that lived with them were going to be coming home today, and there was going to be a surprise 18th birthday for Lori. He had to clean himself and the place up before 3:00, which is when his niece's friends were going to start coming over. David knew the place needed to be cleaned up since the girls had been away for 3 days, but he didn't have an idea how much cleaning up he had to do to himself until his saw his image in the mirror. As he cleaned the dry crusty cum from his hair and body he really started to feel as if he was able to cleans himself from the previous evenings events. David breezed through the house cleaning and started to work one by one on the errand list his wife had left him of things to buy and pick-up for the party. Other than the fact that he didn't have his wallet and had to use his wife's car since he had lost his keys and wallet the night before in the video arcade, the day was pretty normal. In fact, he had figured he would have time to take a cab to his car and pick it up using his spare keys. He was feeling great at 1:30 when he pulled up to his house everything was working like planned. Shortly after 3:00 the first of the 20 friends of Lori that were invited showed up, and at 5:00 Becky and Lori showed up just on time and after the" surprise" the party was really in full swing. Around 6:00 the atmosphere quickly changed when 5 young men around 20 years old showed up. One of the young men was Hank, a guy that David had had several run-ins with. Lori wanted to date Hank but David expressed his dislike for the young man and had forbid her to see him. Even though David and Becky had had several fights over his position, David had been steadfast in his resolve. Trying to avoid a scene David asked Hank to step outside in front for a conversation. "I thought we were clear on the position of you hanging out with Lori," David said. What you don't think there is enough black dick to go around and you want to keep it for yourself," Hank said in a defiant tone. "Hank, I don't know what the hell you are talking about, but I want you to leave this property right now before I call the police." "Go ahead and call the police, but first why don't you call that sweet wife of yours out here and let me introduce her to a friend of mine." As Hank said that he slammed his hand on the hood of the car that was in the driveway in front of the two of them and the car door soon opened. Out of the car came Mike, the young man that had taken David's cherry in the video arcade the night before. As David stood there unable to resolve the conflict of emotions and thoughts that went through his mind, the two young men walk past him into the house. David just stood in the driveway trying to collect himself and figure out how he was going to deal with the situation. When David entered the house 5 minutes later the music had changed and most of the boys from Loris' school had left or were leaving. The atmosphere had defiantly changed. When he found his wife she was talking to Mike and they were laughing and seemingly flirting. His fear was they were laughing about him, or was he being paranoid. Then he noticed Lori being escorted up the stairs by Hank. David's world seemed to be falling apart and just when he didn't think it could get any worse, the front door opened up and there was Eddie, the Philippino flamboyant fag who had taken David's pants that contained his wallet and keys the night before at the video arcade. David rushed to the door way and pulled Eddie down the hallway to the Master Suite in an attempt to keep the situation from becoming even more volatile. As they entered the Bedroom David said: "What are you doing here and do you have my keys and wallet?" "My aren't we in a huff, nice to see you too", Eddie responded. "You have to know how much this could hurt me bringing this into my home, what are you doing here?" I heard there was a party and though it might be fun, chill out, mind I use the bathroom? And with that Eddie slipped past David and went into the Master Bathroom. David just stood there for what seemed like 15 minutes waiting for Eddie to come out, when he did David was in shock. There standing in the doorway was Eddie wearing nothing more than a pair of black thigh high stockings and black 4-inch pumps. To make it worse they were Becky's. "This is sick," David proclaimed, "you have to get dressed, give me my wallet and keys and get out of here." "You sure you don't want a piece of this", Eddie said as he exposed his smooth almost feminine ass. "In another time and place you know I might, but not this time and place, please leave" David begged his resolve weakening. Eddie then approached David and stopped in front of him. He then unzipped David's fly, undid the belt and button on his pants, and reached in and pulled out David's cock. David seemed to be a trance as Eddie rapped his smooth lips around his cock and started to give him a great blowjob. Sex had become boring with Becky since they were working on getting her pregnant. The passion was gone. Everything was about timing, fertility drugs, and sperm count. In fact one of the reasons Becky had to come home tonight was it was a peek time to get pregnant. So raw lust and sex was very welcome to David right now. In fact he was quickly forgetting where he was and that others were in the house, all he could think about right now was how good his cock felt in Eddie's mouth and how much he wanted to fuck him. The sound of laughter and his wife's voice heading down the hall was like getting hit with a bucket of cold water. He pushed Eddie away from his crotch, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the closet. Just as they entered the closet, the door of the bedroom opened and in walked Becky and Mike. David could see through the crack of the closet door, as his wife of 10 years was being lead to the bed by the black male 12 years younger than her. She was a very attractive lady and like to show off the body she worked so hard to get. Tonight she had dressed especially seductive in the hops she would get her husband in the mood for what they had to do. David had no idea what Mike had said or done to get her alone in the bedroom, but there she was with Mike kissing her deeply. Mike worked his hand to the front of her blouse and unbuttoned it exposing Becky's large full breasts beautifully outlined and enhanced by her black lace bra. Mike's hand dove into her bra as his tongue swam in her mouth. Mike liked his women with nice full breasts and especially liked large puffy nipples. Becky had both and now her nipple was erect and sensitive under Mike's touch. Standing there in front of this powerful young black man as he took control of her body was turning on Becky more than she had been for years. David wanted to bust through the door, but there he was in the closet with his hard dick out and with Eddie dressed in her stockings and shoes. David could now hear the conversation as Mike worked his wife. "Your only problem is your husband; you're a fine hot passionate woman who just needs the right man to get you pregnant." "Mike I'm really flattered but I can't do this, what if David finds us and how could I ever explain a 1/2 black child?" "That's cool if you don't want to get pregnant, but don't you want some of this? Come on baby I promise I won't even put my dick in your pussy. If you change your mind you can, but it will be up to you." Becky looked down and saw Mike's 8-inch black cock sticking out of his fly, and before she could say anything he was pushing down by her shoulders to his crotch. Just as he had done to husband the night before. It had been years since she had been so close to another mans cock. True to form Mike took one hand and put it behind Becky's head and with the other hand, he fed her his cock. Her lips opened and accepted him as his hand nestled in her long blond hair and started the rhythm of his fucking her face. David felt as though Mike was looking at him right in the eye as he pumped his cock in and out of his wife's mouth. He was so absorbed into the scene unfolding in front of his he didn't even realize Eddie had lowered David's pants down to his ankles. The scene made David both angry and excited, and with Eddie now behind him expertly reaming his ass, it seemed even more confusing. With his tongue up David's ass, Eddie was now stroking David's cock. All of David's senses were on fire and within seconds he was shooting his load on the closet door all the while trying to remain completely quiet and undetected. A flood of guilt suddenly swept through Becky's consciences and with all her might she pulled her lips off Mike's cock and pushed him away from her." I really can't do this Mike, I'm a married women, and can't do this to my husband", she insisted. So, if it were ok with your cock-sucking husband it would be ok with you? Mike asked. Yes, but he would never agree to such a thing. Besides I'm surprised he hasn't thrown you all out of the house, I don't know if you know this, but he doesn't really like black people. As Mike laughed he asked "if I can prove you wrong on everything you just said, will you agree to letting my homies party in your house all week-end and that you will do everything I say?" There is no way Becky said with total confidence. So then you will agree to it? Sure, but what if you are wrong? We don't need to even go there, Mike said as he walked over to the closet and opened the door. There standing in the door way was David standing with his pants down to his ankles, his spent cock still hard with cum dripping from it and Eddie dressed in her outfit with his face buried in David's ass. As his eyes met his wife's what could he say? What was she thinking right now? How could she ever see him in the same way? "Come out of the closet fag boy", Mike said. "Lets show your wife here how wrong she was, show her how much you like us black boys." Feeling completely exposed and humiliated David put up no resistance as Mike guided him down to his knees in front of him and fed him black cock. Becky sat on her bed and watched in shock as she watched her husband's actions contradicted everything he had claimed to stand for. A flood of anger swept through her and she was determined to make David pay for his betrayal. "Mike, leave that fag on the floor and come over her, I want him to watch as a real man puts his seed into me." As Mike turned to ask her if she was sure, he saw Becky leaning back with her skirt hiked up, her panties pulled to the side, and her beautiful clean shaved pussy glistening from moisture from the prior stimulation Mike had given her. Becky looked to her husband and addressed him for the first time. You fucking wimp, I shaved myself as you always wanted and was ready to do anything to have your baby. Now crawl over here and put Mike's cock in me and watch a real man fuck me. David felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, he had no fight in him. He submissively crawled with his pants still at his ankles to the side of the bed his wife was on. Mike was standing inches away from Becky with his black cock aimed just inches from her smooth white pussy. David reached over and took Mike shaft in his hand and stated to guide it into his wife's wet pussy. Mike stopped him just as the head of his cock was going to touch her skin and said, "suck it one more time fag boy, I want your saliva to be the lube I use to enter your wife." Clearly she didn't need any lubrication, but David took the cock in his mouth as directed. Becky's contempt and disappointment for her husband increased as she looked down and saw him bet over and sucking off the young black man's cock. She looked up at the closet and saw Eddie standing there watching the whole scene. "Come over here and stick that cock of yours in my husbands ass. As pathetic as you are in my hose and shoes you are even more of a man than he is", she said to Eddie Eddie stumbled his way across the room in her pumps and got behind David and entered his ass easily. Mike's cock in his mouth muffled David's grunt as Eddie entered him. Although Eddie was usually a bottom, he seems to enjoy fucking David. Becky watched as the three men were locked in an animalistic sexual lust, and she yearned for her own satisfaction. When Becky turned around and got on all 4s, Mike's attention was drawn to her incredible ass and pussy that was being spread before his eyes. Although David seemed to be doing everything he could to take Mike's load and keep it from his wife's womb, Mike pulled it away from David's eager lips. "Come on fag boy, it's time to take care of business." Mike said as he repositioned himself outside of Becky's ravenous pussy. With Eddie still pounding him from behind David maneuvered so he could take the slick black shaft and guide it into his wife's dripping wet pussy. Becky felt the head enter her and savored the feeling as the long thick shaft spread her open all the way to her cervix. Never before had she been so filled. As Mike slowly moved his cock in and out of the nice tight white pussy she started to work her pussy muscles on him. Within a minute her entire body started to shake as the most intense orgasm of her life swept over her body. The only was David had ever been able to bring Becky to the point of orgasm was by giving her head; he had always thought it was her problem. It was humiliating for him to see another guy get her off through intercourse. As Eddie worked in and out of his ass, he stayed bent over on the floor watching the young black man fuck his beautiful blond wife from behind. Then he watched as Mike flipped her over so she was on her back without ever taking his cock out of her. Mike was now fucking her with long hard strokes. Her breathing was labored as she felt the walls of her pussy being cast around Mike's rod. "Becky tell your husband how you fell right now", Mike said. Mike's cock feels great in my pussy, I want him to fill me with his love seed", she said between her panting. "Fag boy reach up and feel my balls," he said to David Submissively David did as he was told. He put both of Mike's low hanging balls in his hand and felt the sacks, as they seemed to contract. He knew what was happening and he felt helpless to stop it. As Mike unloaded wave after wave of his seed into the beautiful blonds womb, her body shook violently as her second orgasm swept over he body. As Mike pulled out, Becky felt completely satisfied. She kissed Mike on the lips, and thanked him for the best fuck of her life. She knew it was impossible but as she laid back and put her hand on her flat tummy, somehow she already felt different. To make sure David knew his new place in the house Mike put his now spent cock to David's lips. "This might be your last chance to taste Becky's pussy, go-ahead fag boy clean my dick off as you jerk off your pathetic cock." David opened his mouth and took Mike's dick back into his mouth. He tasted the juice of his wife mixed in with the seed that had been laid into her. It was all too much for Eddie as he shot his load in David ass and pulled out leaving his load running down David's crack.. After a couple of minutes of fucking David's face, Mike pulled out and stepped away. Then they all watched as David shot his load all over himself and the floor. Usually he felt sexually satisfied after an orgasm, this time he felt total shame and humiliation. What scared him the most is how that made him feel.

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Date: Sun, 19 May 2024 09:17:37 +0100 From: Barney Bumpkin Subject: Confessions of a Wannabe Gay Sex Slave - Chapters 1-2 Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further. All characters and situations are fictional, though hopefully plausible, and grounded in reality. The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved. The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK. My thanks go to Nifty for all the pleasure the Archive has given me over the years and for the opportunity to bring my writing efforts to the attention of those who share my particular erotic interests. Readers are encouraged to make a donation to keep the archive going for many more years. As always, feedback both critical and complimentary is welcome via e-mail to: barneybumpkin@gmail.com. Please don't contact me with commercial requests or advertising. Hope you enjoy Barney Summary In this off-beat erotic comedy Barney Bumpkin charts the sexual adventures of fifty-year-old gay Londoner, Alan, who after being made redundant from his job after 25 years' service, decides to pursue his long-held ambition to become the sex slave of another man. After a year of searching dating websites, he eventually stumbles across Ram, a feisty thirty-year-old of Indian ancestry, who he realises has the potential to fulfil his fantasies. However, although the youngster possesses the good looks, desire, self-confidence and intelligence he is seeking, he is far from his perfect match and a battle of wills ensues between them as each strives to get closer to what they want from the other. Whilst Alan attempts to steer the headstrong young top toward providing the type of domination that excites him the most, Ram sets about training the former dom to better meet his more straightforward needs, sex-wise and otherwise. Via their on-line message exchanges and a series of increasingly humiliating sexual encounters, many of which take place in public places and involve others, the author brings to life their stormy relationship and depicts both the highs and lows of Alan's quest to find his ideal master. Reader's Comments on Barney's previous work "I enjoyed reading your story. It is well-written, with good pace and detail. The theme is imaginative and so hot." "I want to let you know how much I'm enjoying your latest story. Not only is it incredibly horny (I cum every time I read an instalment) but I love the way you're slowly ratcheting things up in an entirely believable fashion." "Your splendid writing has blown my mind and my cock!" Chapter One Serendipitously, we seemed to have come across each other's profiles at exactly the same moment: Hi Mr Nice Guy - I noticed your track on my profile and that you "want to get to know me" - hence this message. I hesitated before contacting you because you're certainly not giving much away appearance wise (although to be honest any 30-year-old Indian guy would probably get my attention) and you seem a bit of an enigma - simultaneously wanting to play an active role and meet a nice masculine man who will show you the ropes gay sex wise. As your profile has been viewed a massive 49,000 times, I'm surprised you haven't already met Mr Right several times over - but then, that's on-line dating for you! hello and ta for yours do you have a face pic you can send? Ram xx ps where in north london are you and what do i call you? So, Ram you're both paranoid and fussy - that may well be why Mr Right eludes you! In answer to your questions - yes, I do have a face pic I could send - so why don't you attach your pic to your next message - or would that be too simple? My name's Alan BTW and I live in Barnet. Doubt this is going to lead anywhere fast! hello alan and ta for yours there is in fact a 'fast' version of meeting...that would be to forget the pics and to simply meet for a chat... after all what harm could that do....? you say you are fond of Indian guys amongst others...well if we were to meet then you would definitely think i am vgl and might even find me attractive...! happy to meet for a chat to see if we get on...we may...we may not...need only take a minute to see if we do... am very laid back and so prefer no-expectation meets and will hope you feel the same let me know what you think Ram xx ps am fond of role play and have a particular fantasy which we could discuss on meeting ;) A blind date it is then - between the vgl virile 30-year-old Indian guy and the over the hill Brit would-be sub-boi. But where would be a mutually convenient spot for both of us for an event that may take less than a minute? Perhaps a location where we could gain some solace afterward should one of us disappoint the other - a seedy gay sex club? Hampstead Heath? You never said what part of London you hail from so I have little to go on. Time-wise I'm very flexible - I can meet up most weekdays in the afternoon or anytime most weekends. I must admit you have me intrigued about what your particular roleplay fantasy might be! I have lots myself - though I must warn you that few of these involve a top guy chatting about sex rather than getting on with it! hello alan and ta for yours good to know youre happy to meet...though am not keen on your seedy sex club suggestion...perhaps a coffee somewhere in say brent cross? ...there is a nice coffee shop within the bookstore there...if you drive then this shouldnt take too long for you to get to...or else am open to suggestions :) can meet daytimes or evenings this week up...from friday i am busy for a few days if you felt comfortable i could travel to you for a no-expectations chat...see how we get on... can stay for as long as you want...if youre not keen when you see me then i will head back...vice versa :) let me know what you think Ram xx Hi Ram What's wrong with a seedy gay sex club? I'll have you know I've had some mind-blowing times in their darkrooms and ditto late at night on Hampstead Heath! Although very hit and miss as cruising places they provide an ideal setting and an appreciative audience for sub/dom role play. However, as I happen to know the bookshop you mention (I used to live nearby) I'm tempted to go with that suggestion - but unfortunately I already bought more than my quota of books for the month this very afternoon! On the other hand, you coming round to my place would be a lot less embarrassing for me should you decide you need to make a rapid exit and run away after 30 seconds. It would also open up other possibilities (in the unlikely event that we were to hit it off) that even the most progressive bookshop/coffee bar in Brent Cross would struggle to compete with. So, I'll go with this option - but as I don't want you to come all the way to see me for nothing, I've given in and attached a face pic. Let me know if you're still interested and I'll let you know the address - Thursday's the best day for me. Cheers, Alan hello alan and ta for yours nice pic and nice of you to send ta happy to meet at yours this thursday...of course if you are not keen once you get a look at me then please just say and i will head back...its not a problem :)...and i will do the same naturally but its unlikely given i think you look nice let me know your address and the time to meet ;) Ram xx Hi Ram Rather than you be freaked out when you arrive and notice the house's distinctive d cor, I must alert you to the fact that my long-term partner is Indian. We have gone our own ways sexually for a number of years and having guys round for sex is not a problem - but we don't like getting in each other's way when this can easily be avoided. He'll be back from work between 6-7pm so I suggest we meet in the afternoon - hope that suits you. It's the house at the end of the row. You can easily park nearby if you come by car. You know I'm into role play (please bear with me here) so it's important to me that you are dominant from the start regardless of me being the host. So, I'll leave the front door open for you so you can come straight in. There's a toilet on the ground floor if you need to use one. I'll wait for you in the room on the left of the entrance. What would you like me to wear for your visit? Casual clothes, gym gear, black leather - as "top" you get to decide both what and how much! Looking forward to it. Alan P. S. Let me know what you like to drink and I'll make sure it's ready and waiting for you on a silver tray! hello alan and ta for yours will aim to arrive for about 1430hrs tomorrow... have on a blue shirt (top button undone) and grey slacks ..worn with smart black shoes and grey socks...no underwear also would like strong coffee ..i like it with milk and brown sugar...not keen on the silver tray...a wooden one would be better...failing this serve without a tray... as i enter i would like you to prepare my coffee and then be seated and please...no words except to convey a dislike to what you see....will head back see you tomorrow Ram xx Okay Ram - you're the boss - see you tomorrow! Chapter Two Six months before this on-line exchange took place, I had taken voluntary redundancy from the job I had put my life and soul into for over twenty-five years. However, after surviving several previous rounds of "restructuring" I had seen it coming well in advance and had reconciled myself to my fate, telling myself to welcome it as an opportunity to start afresh and enjoy the pleasures and pursue the interests I had missed out on in order to pursue my career. Especially since the pill had been sugared by a severance package sufficiently generous to both pay off my half of the mortgage and provide me with a modest monthly income for the rest of my days. Freed from the burden of having to scrape a living together, I planned to travel more widely and spend more time renovating my home and garden. I also intended to work-out and swim more regularly to return my body to a state nearer to what it had been in my twenties and thirties, when I had been a keen sportsman. In addition, I proposed to fill the hole in my life created by the absence of the daily grind to fulfil one of the frustrated ambitions of my younger days by trying my hand at writing fiction. For a quarter of a century, I'd devoted my writing talents to my job, penning endless minutes and memos, reports, press releases, leaflets, etc. while my creative impulses had been confined to keeping a record of my sexual exploits and noting down ideas for stories that I'd never had the time to flesh-out, let alone publish. Now I planned to transform these ideas and my past experiences into the hottest of gay erotic fiction. The sort that reflected the ethnic diversity of the guys I'd fucked and become friends with in London and on my travels to other parts of the world and also depict the sexual pleasures to be obtained from the sub/dom roleplay I'd come across on the leather scene. Influenced by the diversity of gay porn on the internet, my sexual tastes had matured and broadened over the years and by my forties I'd become an experienced leather top who possessed a range of attire and equipment to go with the role. I'd also discovered the possibilities offered by on-line gay dating websites as a means of finding sex partners, in addition to cruising the club, pub and sauna scene. However, in recent years I'd grown weary of forever having to play the dominant role and found myself fantasizing about playing the submissive role in the SM sex play that I found so exciting. Deciding now was probably my last opportunity to do something about it before I became too ancient for anyone to fancy me, I created a new persona for myself as a sub on my gay dating website in the hope of finding a suitable top guy to introduce me to the delights of sexual submission. But, perhaps unsurprisingly for a man of fifty wanting to play the sub-role, there was little interest in my profile and the few guys who were keen on meeting me turned out to be older and into something far more extreme than what I was looking for. So, I had begun to despair of ever coming across a guy that I found attractive who was into the sort of sub/dom roleplay I was looking for when the message from Ram had arrived. Excited that he had so readily accepted it as his role to decide what I got to wear when we met, I rushed around sorting out the clothes he had specified, but must confess that I was also a little disappointed that what he had suggested was so mundane. If I were in his shoes, faced with a sub inviting me to dictate what he was to wear for our first date, I would have suggested something much more humiliating, designed to test out his willingness to submit to my power. Maybe the lad didn't want to risk scaring me off by making too extreme a demand so early on, or perhaps he didn't want to get himself in too deep before seeing me in the flesh for the first time... On the other hand, I thought Ram's "no underwear" stipulation promising and was impressed by the masterful way he had specified so exactly that he wanted from me and had given such precise instructions: "top button undone ... strong coffee with milk and brown sugar... prepare my coffee and then be seated... no words". His messages also displayed a wickedly dry sense of humour - taking my tongue in cheek offer of serving his drink on a silver tray straight-faced and suggesting a wooden one would be better or no tray at all! Perhaps I had at last found the self-confident and imaginative top guy that I had been searching for... However, given my previous lack of success in turning my sub fantasies into reality, it was with growing nervousness that I awaited Ram's arrival. Five, ten, fifteen minutes elapsed... The sun, which had been shining brightly all morning, disappeared behind a cloud and a cold breeze entered the kitchen/diner through the French windows which I had deliberately left ajar to give Ram the option of us having sex out on the patio, should this idea appeal to him. However, when I noticed it had started to rain, I rushed outside to close the sun umbrella and remove the cushions from the garden furniture. I returned breathlessly to the kitchen a few moments later and closed the doors behind me. Thankfully there was still no sign of Ram. The music compilation I had set playing earlier suddenly increased in tempo provoking fears that it would be too much of a distraction. So, I ejected the disk and quickly thumbed through the selection of CDs I had brought down to the kitchen until I found something I considered more suitable. It was then that I heard the front door open. In a panic, I rammed the disk in the player and slammed the lid closed but then had to wait while it booted up. All too aware that my visitor was slowly making his way toward me, I hurriedly pressed "play" and only then looked up to greet him. A slightly built, Indian guy emerged into the room from the hallway to a fanfare of music. Despite his small frame and slender features Ram seemed completely at ease, in sharp contrast with my own heightened state of anxiety. He was stylishly dressed, with a little goatee beard and moustache and wore blue cargo pants, a tight-fitting sky- blue shirt and sneakers. I hesitated to stare too closely at his face but immediately registered that he was more "vgl" than I could have dared hope! Desperate for him not to run away, and conscious that he too must already have formed his first impression of me, I attempted to delay his departure by lamely blurting out, "Would you like some coffee?" "You mean it isn't ready yet?" he fired back at me. Flustered by the challenge contained in the lad's reply, but also thrilled by the acceptance it implied, I hurried across to the coffee machine to make up for this deficiency. But for some reason the damn thing didn't seem to be working properly! I turned it on and off and on again in a panic before finally getting it right. I then quickly filled up the chamber with freshly ground coffee, aware that behind me my visitor was peering through the windows and examining the garden. While I waited impatiently for the grounds to heat up, I glimpsed over my shoulder a second time and noticed that Ram had now switched his attention back to me. No sooner had I turned my head round to face the machine, than he came up and stood beside me and began carefully scrutinising both my face and body at close quarters. I stood by passively with my face flushed and my heart pounding, with my head down and eyes averted, silently cursing the machine for its tardiness. Then it dawned on me what the young Indian was up to. He was checking if I was wearing the exact dress he'd specified I should have on when he arrived! He had certainly taken me at my word when I had told him I wanted him to "play the dominant role from the start" in spite of me being the host! When the percolator light at last flashed green, I reached across to turn on the water only to have the lad stay my hand. "Take your clothes off first!" he demanded, completely poker-faced, leaving me unsure whether this was a reward for my compliance or a punishment for my failures. In either case, what better way to underline my sub status and test out my obedience than by having me strip naked within two minutes of his arrival? Although he had so far only uttered two sentences, I instantly recognised the mischievous, self-confident, deadpan style that had characterised his messages. Thrilled by his willingness to take control, I swallowed hard and hurried to obey the young guy's command, but now filled with the added anxiety that my now gym-toned, but ancient body, might fail to live up to his expectations. Flustered, I began nervously unbuttoning my shirt cuffs, and then realised I needed to sit down so I could remove my footwear. I hurried across to the kitchen table pulled out a dining chair and quickly dispensed with my "smart black shoes and grey socks". After tucking them away neatly beneath my seat as though I were in a locker room, I unfastened the remaining buttons of my blue shirt (top button already undone) and stood up to unzip the "grey slacks" he had prescribed for me, folding both garments neatly on the table beside the CD player. Now totally naked, I summoned up all the dignity I could muster and walked barefoot across the cold laminate floor to finish off the menial task allotted me. I switched on the percolator and stood awkwardly in front of the chugging machine, embarrassed not so much from standing in the nude in my own kitchen as from keeping my potential master waiting yet again. As the coffee slowly trickled down into his cup, Ram moved in close behind me, nestling his groin against my naked rump and then cupped my pecs in the palms of his hands. "How much longer will I have to wait for my coffee?" he demanded, underlining my vulnerability by fondling my nipples with the tips of his fingers until they stood out erect. Deciding this was a rhetorical question, given his instruction "please, no words", I swallowed hard and battled to complete the task he had set me as best I could. When the machine finally filled half of his cup, I placed it on a saucer, picked up a spoon and turned to consult him on the quantity of sugar he required. "More!" he demanded as I held out a spoonful, tweaking my nipples in tandem with his words as a means of underlining his instruction and increasing my humiliation. "A little more... a bit more...and tiny bit more... Okay, now add the milk..." Having trained me in seconds to respond to his slightest touch, this time he dispensed with the words and, three tweaks later, the coffee was made to his satisfaction. "Make sure you stir it properly!" he added, backing away from my rear. My task finally completed, Ram had me carry his drink through to the living room, where he slumped down on the sofa with a thump. I stupidly apologised for it being so hard and said that the nearby recliner might be more comfortable for him. He ignored my suggestion, plainly annoyed that I had opened my mouth without his permission, and instead made himself at home on the sofa. I handed over his drink and he told me to move the coffee table out of the way so he could stretch out his legs. That done, I stood attentively before him, naked, with my head bowed, awaiting his instructions, while he relaxed and sipped his drink. After coolly looking me up and down, the young Indian demanded I peel back my foreskin so he could fully examine my cock. I did as I was bid, stretching the covering back with some difficulty, as I was by now semi-erect, until its sticky purple head was fully exposed. "What are those blotches on your balls?" he enquired when I held my dick out to him for closer inspection. "Just a few burst blood vessels," I replied, "I have very fair skin..." "Okay, okay," he interrupted before I could say any more. "Now turn around!" "Hmm... Bend over and hold your arse cheeks apart so I can see your hole!" Again, I hurried to obey, the added humiliation and my eagerness to please overcoming my qualms that my body might not pass muster. I had to stand there with my buttocks spread wide apart while he took a further sip of his coffee. "Okay, turn back round and get down on your knees." I squatted between his legs, my head facing his groin and noticed a large bulge was filling out the front of his pants. "Take out my cock and make it happy!" Dry-mouthed, I unfastened Ram's leather belt, popped the top button of his jeans and unzipped his fly. Parting the two flaps of his pants, I noted he was wearing soft cotton briefs, their dark green fabric already stretched taut over the long vertical mound that must be his dick. I tugged down on the elasticated waistband and gently reached inside to free his straining cock, feeling its delicious smoothness for the first time. Thick and long and growing rapidly, it was one of the handsomest cocks I had ever laid eyes on. As it continued to extend, I tenderly rolled down the foreskin and caressed its head with the tip of my tongue before greedily taking it into my mouth. To my relief, the guy had excellent personal hygiene and every part of him smelt sweet and clean, but when his cock struck the back of my throat with me only halfway along it, alarm bells began to ring. Why did every guy who was willing to fuck me turn out to be so generously endowed I wondered - was it the size of their cock that gave them their self-confidence? "Take off my sneakers!" Ram commanded, interrupting my thought by suddenly separating his cock from my lips. I slumped down on my haunches and tugged open his laces, gently pulling down on the heel so I could slide them off more easily and set them down reverentially side by side on the carpet. When I turned to examine his purple socks, wondering if I was supposed to remove these too, he pointed to his cock. "Carry on!" he demanded, "Only this time, get it in all the way!" It was okay for him, I thought, what more pleasant way could there be than to spend a week-day afternoon with a naked sub on his knees sucking your dick, eager and willing to obey your every command however humiliating it might be! I'd never enjoyed sucking cock all that much and had rarely done it deep throat on such a well-endowed guy before - but it looked like I would have to get used to it now if I wasn't to risk pissing off the most promising top I'd come across after months of searching! So, I quickly resumed my sucking, briefly massaging the head of his cock with my tongue before slowly sliding his shaft deeper into my mouth until it reached the back of my throat once more - but there was still at least a couple of inches more to come! Unless I lifted my head to align my windpipe with his cock it could progress no further! Fortunately, at least for the moment, Ram seemed satisfied with my attempts to give him pleasure, but I realised that deep throat cock-sucking was a skill that I was going to have to master in the very near future, as it was clearly something any self-respecting top would expect his sub to offer him as a matter of course... Thus far, confusing submission with passivity, I had stuck rigidly to doing only what Ram had demanded of me and nothing more - with the result that despite my excitement my own prick was far from rigid. But as I went down on him once again, I realised that if I was to succeed in getting myself fully aroused, I needed to focus my mind less on my fears and more on how attractive I found the young Indian. Noting how much he relished pleasure, I decided I needed to do my absolute best to provide him with as much of it as I could. Drawing on my years of experience on the gay scene of what turns young guys on sexually, I determined to abandon my passivity and actively make love to the boy's cock and whatever other tiny scrap of his anatomy he cared to offer me - not least as a means of distracting him from my cock-sucking failings. So, I began to take the initiative, tentatively fondling his smooth skinned thighs and gently stroking the back of his silky ball sack with my fingers in order to augment his pleasure as I continued to suck. When he made no objection, I slid his cock from my mouth and slowly ran my tongue up and down the entire length of his shaft. As my excitement built, I started wanking myself, breathing in his intoxicating scent with relish as I gradually engulfed his dick once again. I then reached up to his chest to find his nipples through the thin cotton fabric of his shirt and began tweaking them in the hope of providing him with additional pleasure. The boy seemed to be enjoying all I was doing to him, but when I started to wank him too, this proved to be a step too far. He grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled my hand away from his cock - perhaps he was worried about cumming too quickly? Whatever the reason, I meekly retreated from his groin, a little shaken by the sudden rejection and waited shamefaced on my knees for his next instruction. "Take off my pants!" he demanded. Relieved, that all he wanted was his clothes out of the way, I jumped to obey, more than happy to undress as much of his slender brown body as he cared to reveal to me. Seizing on it as an opportunity to demonstrate just how willing I was to worship him, I gently eased the lad's cargo pants and cotton slip downwards, folded them neatly and placed them on the empty seat of the recliner, treating each item as though it were precious. With his lower body now free of encumbrances, he slid down from his sitting position and lay with his back on the seat of the sofa, holding his legs up in the air. "Now lick out my arse!" he commanded, looking me directly in the eyes. Despite my earlier resolution to please the handsome Indian come what may, I faltered. This was a sexual practice that I knew carried significant health risks and as a consequence I had only rarely undertaken in the past - usually in the dark when my passion had overcome my usual caution - and certainly never in cold blood, on demand, in order to give another guy pleasure. But what choice did I have? How would he react if I refused? I stared back at the boy's face - his impassive expression not only told me that this task was non-negotiable but also that he obtained sadistic pleasure from witnessing my dilemma. I swallowed hard and shifted my gaze to peer down at the youngster's upturned buttocks. Beneath his scrotum, a forest of curly black hairs obscured the position where his hole should have been located. I shuddered, but nevertheless forced my head downwards and, holding my breath, slid my nose deep into his crack. I placed a kiss where I judged his anus to be and, in this most ignominious of positions, slowly inhaled. Finding that his arse, like the rest of his body, was not only perfectly clean but also deliciously scented, I finally relented and began to lubricate his arse with my saliva. "Get your tongue right into it!" Ram then demanded, spurring me on to humiliate myself still further. I closed my eyes and harnessed my overwhelming desire to please the stunningly handsome Indian to help me overcome my lifelong inhibition, by parting the copious hairs surrounding the circle of his anus with my fingers and gradually prising my tongue between the tight lips of its rim and into the cavity beyond. To be continued... Can't wait to sample more of my writing??? A free PDF version of the whole story is available by email from the authour at barneybumpkin@gmail.com on request To read my other writing posted on Nifty look under "B" in the Authors tab or do a search for my name.

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Date: Wed, 31 Jul 2002 13:21:53 +1000 From: Iain Robertson Subject: Take It Or Leave It - Ch 4 Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!! This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk. This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com. Take It or Leave It Chapter 4 Iainlthr@hotmail.com I slept well that night, and woke up feeling surprisingly good. The `kennel' was not cramped at all, and the pile of rags made a passable bed. I was stirring enough to be alert when I heard a whistle from within the house. Responding to his signal, I crawled from my kennel and stretched quickly before hurrying around to the front of the cottage and up the steps, waiting on hands and knees at the door and looking in. "Morning, doggy boy," he called, cheerfully. I smiled at his demeanour, wondering what the day had in store. He was still stretching himself, and I happily stared at the hairy, beefy mass of him, muscled and strong, his cock hanging long and thick, the remnants of a sleep horn still on him. "Time for an early morning wake up swim!" he declared, heading down the steps and toward the river. I followed closely behind, drinking in the view of his firm round butt clenching and rolling as he walked. By the time we reached the creek, my own cock was taking on a life of it's own, growing thicker and harder without prompting. He pretended not to notice as he undid my harness and removed the collar and cuffs from me. When it came time to approach my cockring, he chuckled to himself, "Randy fucking dogs. Can't get enough!" as he unsnapped the leather band, leaving me completely naked. He strode purposefully into the cool water and I followed him in, relishing in the clean feeling as it washed over my body. The lightening sky was overcast this morning, low clouds threatening rain, which would be a welcome relief from the heat of the last few days. He laughed as he splashed water over himself, and me, smiling at the grey day. "I think this is going to be a good day, boy. I see some real fun for us today." My cock jumped at the words, my mind wondering what `real fun' he had planned, but knowing it would involve him using my body for his pleasure again, and in doing so sending me into raptures of erotic delight. I didn't have to wait long to find out. After our bathing, he climbed back to the house quickly and I matched his pace, staying a respectful distance behind. As he breakfasted on juice, I lapped at my water bowl in full sight of him, knowing it pleased him to see me on all fours, face sunk into the liquid like this. As soon as he had eaten, he checked that I had dried off, and replaced my `clothes' -- the harness, cockring, wrist and ankle cuffs, leaving me attired the same as the previous evening. I swore his cock began to thicken as he looked at me, now properly `dressed'. He went into the house, and a few minutes later reappeared in the fantastic, shining leather chaps and cap he had worn before. A metal cockring now encircled the base of his meat, behind his heavy swinging balls, and the shine of it matched the shine of his Prince Albert as he stood above me, at ease in his world. He looked down at me, and muttered to himself, "Pity I don't have chaps to fit the dog. It would look fucken good in them, but none here that'll be of any use. Damn it!" he shrugged resignedly, and sat to roll and smoke a cigarette while I patiently waited at his feet, daring to snuggle against the gleaming leather encasing his calf and breathe in the aroma of the tanned hide, making my cock swell yet again. After finishing his smoke, he stood again, and commanded me "Heel!" I obeyed by sticking closely to his feet and followed him around the side of the house, until he stopped at a trapdoor arrangement near the rear corner of the building. Lifting the door up and back, he started down into some steps. This was obviously a cellar, constructed under the house. I wondered at the need for such a place, then realised it would always be cool underground, even in the fiercest heat of summer. As I descended behind him, I smelt the earthy mustiness of the ground, and surprisingly, the inviting aroma of oiled and polished leather. In the darkness of the cellar, he found and lit a kerosene lamp, placing it on a shelf as its faint warm light illuminated the room. My jaw opened at the sight before me. I had expected a small dank pit, maybe some storage shelves. Instead, the cellar was almost half the size of the house built above it, the walls, floor and ceiling timbered and braced, painted matte black. And what a room it was! Around the walls were shelves holding numerous sex toys -- dildoes and butt plugs, anal balls and nipple clamps, paddles whips and hand cuffs. To one side was a bench similar to the one he had strung me across and fucked me over the previous night, but this was higher, and had stirrups where knees would be placed so that whoever was restrained on the instrument would be totally at the mercy of his master. Chains hung from rings in the ceiling to more rings set in the floor. Slightly to the back of the room hung a large black leather sling, gleaming and polished, suspended by silver chains from the roof. Behind it again was a man-sized `X' made of timber and covered in padded leather, with metal rings for arms and legs to be chained to and restrained. I looked over the contents of the room, my cock throbbing and hard as steel, then back to him. Forgetting my place for a moment, I turned questioning eyes to him. He seemed to forget our deal as well, as he surveyed the room with me. Almost sadly, he looked at what was actually a very well equipped and erotic dungeon. His voice was quiet and low as he spoke. "I bought this land and built this place for myself and my slaveboy. We had decided to get away from the hassle of the city, and live out our fantasies where no-one would disturb us. But the total isolation was too much for him. He tried, but couldn't live here. Disappeared one day without a word. I went looking for him, found out he made it back to the city, but never found him again, so I came back and made my own life. It's been a fucking long time since this place was used, took me ages to clean it up properly yesterday." Suddenly he seemed to realise that he had opened up to me, and became silent again. My heart ached at the story he had told. He had treated me like a dog, but I had agreed to let him do it, and he had treated me well. And his fantasy had excited me, given me pleasure as I had never known. I dropped to my knees beside him, rubbed my head against the leathered muscle of his calf, and whined. As he looked down, I smiled at him, and licked his leg, soaking the chaps in saliva as I gazed up at him. He broke into a huge grin, reached down, and scratched me behind the ear. "Good dog! Damn good dog!" he said, and I swore his eyes were moist for a moment. Taking control of himself again, he chuckled. "Time this place got used the way it was intended," he hissed. Moving into the dungeon, he became the master, the owner of all he surveyed, including me. His cock had noticeably swelled as he strode about the room, taking implements from the shelves and placing them strategically, for easy reach later on. My own dick had never lost its hardness from the initial sight of the dungeon of delights, and I watched him fascinated and curious as to where he would place me, and what he would do. It was as if this place infused sexuality and generated arousal. His cock quickly grew to full length and jutted proudly from his groin, and his eyes narrowed with lusty anticipation as he returned to his obedient dog slave, patiently waiting for his orders. He ordered me to stand, taking hold of my leash and dragging me to the back of the room, where the cross stood, about three metres from the rear wall. He backed me up to it, and clipped my wrist and ankle cuffs into metal rings set in the side of the four arms of the `X' shaped equipment, leaving me to mimic the form so that my arms and legs were spread wide. I could feel the cool leather against the skin of my limbs and the joining piece at the small of my back. Then he pulled wide straps of leather which were already fixed to the cross around my upper arms and my thighs, and another even wider band around my waist, pulling each of them as tight as he could make them. I wondered at the need for these extra restraints, since with my wrists and ankles already chained, I could hardly move away from where I was placed. Kneeling in front of me, he chuckled at my throbbing erection, and quickly snapped a leather ball parachute around the top of my sack. Small weights hung from it, and as he let it fall from his hand the contraption pulled down on my testicles, swinging slightly. The pain it caused was a slow, dull ache which reached deep inside me, but an ache of painful pleasure as the motion against my protesting nuts sent tingles of erotic agony through me and heightened my senses, making everything I felt seem so much more intense. He stood before me and took his massive cock in one hand, waving it from side to side in front of me, droplets of his precum flying from him onto my skin. He chuckled as he did, a menacing laugh as his manhood raged, throbbing and angry, eager to take and use my body for its pleasure. The next surprise he had for me was a pair of nipple clamps. Small metal teeth, encased in rubber, were closed over each of my tits as he fastened a tiny screw, forcing them to close tightly on my erect nubs. As my sensitive nerve filled nips screamed out in protest, I gasped and puffed for breath, grimacing and torn. When he was satisfied they were tight enough, he stepped back and waited. Slowly the pain eased, or my chest became numb, I didn't know which, but the agony dulled to merely an ache, uncomfortable but bearable. As my face unscrewed and I opened my eyes again, he looked at me, smiling. Without warning, he reached again to my chest and flicked each of the clamps hard with his fingers. The jolts of sensation were like electric shocks that pierced my chest, but they were lightning bolts of pure ecstasy, my torso shuddering with delight and my cock bouncing and twitching with the intensity of the pleasure generated. Grinning and fondling his own nipples, his cock rampant in the dim smoky light, he stepped to one side, and reached behind me. I heard a click, and gasped as I felt myself falling back. He laughed out loud and I realised the cross was actually suspended on a pivot. I found myself lying face up, staring at the ceiling, the weights attached to my balls dragging them back between my spread-eagled legs and sending more aching shivers of ecstatic pain through my groin. As I fell back, my body was supported by my arms and legs fixed to the arms of the X, but my head hung free, and fell backwards. He moved behind me, and adjusted the cross so that my face was exactly level with his groin. Stepping forward, he shoved his huge prong between my lips. I licked quickly at him, generating saliva as fast as I could, as the Prince Albert tickled my tongue and began its invasion of my throat. Slurping at his meaty weapon, I sucked and nibbled at the sensitive flesh, making him sigh softly. In this position, with my head backwards and down, my throat was open and extended as far as it would go, and he pressed in, forcing me to take the entire length of his giant rod. I tried not to gag, fought the urge to regurgitate as I was forced to deep throat that throbbing swollen manmeat. He fucked my face easily, forcefully as he shoved himself into my gullet, his huge hairy nuts crashing into my nose and swinging back again. As he did, again he flicked and pulled at the clamps attached to my nipples sending waves of pleasure/pain racing through me. Pulling himself from me, he stepped back again, and gave the contraption another push. I went into an upright position again, then forward. This thing could rotate through 360 degrees, and suddenly I was hanging, face down, a metre and a half above the floor, held in place by the supports around my waist, arms and legs. As I swung around, the weights hanging from the parachute around my nuts bounced and pulled, so that with every movement more waves of aching intensity were driven into my testicles and radiated through my pelvis. He kept pushing the cross forward so that my head went down, and I was suspended upside down, my head almost at the level of his groin, my legs pointing to the ceiling, my cock and balls dragging down toward my abdomen, but at shoulder level for him. I felt his finger, slippery with lube, enter my arse hole, probing in and twisting, exploring my sphincter. But it was only a brief insertion before he removed his digit, and the cool solidity of rubber pressed at my rosebud. A set of anal balls dangled from his hand. Five large black rubber spheres, connected by latex enclosed string with a loop at the end. Smearing lubricant over the balls, he nudged and eased the first one into me. As my sphincter closed around it my gut swallowed it up, drawing the string in as well so that the next ball was quickly drawn against my hole. A second and third solid round form were pushed into me as I felt my rectum fill, the toy jiggling within me and riding against my prostate, making me tingle with delighted pleasure. Massaging the outside of my abdomen with his palm, he pressed again, and a fourth and finally the last orb of black latex was lodged within my bowel. The short piece of string still hanging from my closed hole was looped, and to that loop he attached a clip and a metal weight, leaving it to hang from my arse and pull at the jiggling balls filling me. Stepping back from me, he pushed again, and I swung backwards, facing the floor, then upright, then falling onto my back again, all the way around as he sent me through a full circle. By the natural action of gravity, the weights dangling between my legs had swung around, and now dragged across my butt, pulling my nuts with them, and stretching my cock so that as I returned to the upside down position, blood running back to my head again, my cock was pointing almost directly upwards. I felt a touch at the base of my root, which twitched and leaked at the attention. A tightening sensation. He was winding a long piece of leather cord around my shaft. Starting at the cockring already restraining me, he wound the string of hide around and around, tightly, as he enveloped my cock in leather. Upward he worked as the cord rolled on, round and round and round, until the full length of my rigid prick was encased in the twisted leather cord from its base to the lip of my glans. Tying a knot in the cord to keep it firmly in place, he then hung another small weight from the end of the cord, smiled at his handiwork, and swung me back again so I was upright. I was suspended now from the leather covered cross, weights dangling from my arse, cock and balls, my tits throbbing with pleasurable pain, and the slightest movement sent jolts of intense sensitivity throughout my body. He stepped back from me and looked hard, enjoying the sight of my adorned and leathered frame. "Looking good, pussy boy'" he declared, and the tingling sensations wracking my body were joined by the contentment of pleasing my Master. Turning to one of the shelves around the dungeon, he picked up another object and came back to stand before me. In his hand was a black leather paddle, two arms joined near the handle, set with tiny rounded metal studs. Without a word, an evil look in his eyes, he stepped up to me and landed the paddle squarely on my gut. The sting from the slap was sharp but only slight, but the crack of sound it made as it hit me, and the two leather pieces connected, rent the air and shot into my ears. I gasped with surprise, and shuddered as the jolt of pain and pleasure raced through me setting off a chain reaction of intense sensation from every part of my body. Another slap with the paddle, this time on my thighs, and I ached and bit my tongue at the desire to scream out. "Let it go, shithead," he hissed into my ear, his free hand pulling at my head as his mouth was pressed against my cheek. "In here you're a slave, not a dog, and I want to hear you scream!" His voice was guttural, commanding, and it released my tongue. Finding the voice I had not used for two days, I whispered at first, hoarse and throaty, gradually finding volume. "Fuck yes, Sir," I answered, "use your shitty little toy, Master." As more blows rained down on my body from the paddle, falling across my legs and gut, my arms and chest, I began to scream out in earnest. "Thank you, Sir, slap your dog-boy and make it do what you want, Sir. Use it and fuck it, Sir. It's nothing but a toy for you to play with Sir." As the paddle connected with my skin, the metal studs stinging and biting at me, my body twisted and wracked with intense pain and even more intense pleasure, my brain went into shutdown, surrendering to the indescribable pleasure of the erotic torture he delivered. I yelled and hissed, screamed and begged for more as he attacked me, my voice ringing in the darkened dungeon, and sending him into a frenzy with every shouted obscenity. He wielded the paddle firmly, but carefully, making sure he did no real damage, as I trembled and shook with passionate abandon. As his burning need grew, and I shook and shouted at him, he gripped his raging purpled cock in one hand as he continued to rain down slaps upon me with the other, jacking at the massive meat between his legs and flailing at the giant throbbing weapon jutting from the leathered towers of his strong legs. Reaching the edge, he joined me in screaming out, throwing the paddle aside as his eyes glazed and his hand flogged at himself. With a bellowed "Ffffuuuuuuuuccckk!!!!", he erupted, large globs of searing white hot cum spewing from his cock, arcing high into the space between us and spattering onto my reddened, twitching body. For minutes he heaved and spasmed, load after load of his essence shooting from his enraged manhood to drench my body. Finally he subsided, his cock still throbbing and hard, pointing at me. He grinned with the release, and used the paddle as a utensil, smearing his ejaculate all over my skin. I shook with urgent need, desperation in my face. "Please, Sir, let me cum, Sir, I'm going to explode." He looked at me with a laugh, and slapped at the clamps on my nipples again. My head lolled back at the new round of shocks and I moaned, loud and long. He unsnapped the parachute from my nuts, and quickly unwound the leather cord from my dick. The incredible, instantaneous relief that flooded my nuts, the painful rush of blood back into my sack, made me shudder and sob. Taking my aching prick in one hand, he pulled at the dangling weight still attached to the anal balls gripped in my gut. The renewed massage on my prostate was all the stimulation I needed as I let out a throaty "uunnnhhhhh" and drenched his hand with my jizz. I would have slumped down in exhaustion if I had not been held in place by the restraints on my arms and legs. ******************* We spent the entire day in the dungeon. He had remarkable recuperative powers, and never seemed to lose his erection after he blew a load. Within a matter of minutes from emptying a bucketload of cum, he would be dripping and horny yet again. And I seemed to keep up with him. Maybe it was the room, maybe it was him, but he was a raging lusty animal, insatiable, and I was his equally needy, randy slave, his toy. He used me that day, for hours and hours, in every position imaginable, on every exotic, erotic piece of equipment. He ensured my body was teased, tortured and treated to the pleasures of every item in his arsenal of exquisite toys. He took me down from the giant `X', re-attaching the parachute to my balls and weighing them again with aching pleasure. He paraded me around the dungeon with the weights dangling from my nuts and my arse, and strapped me to the saw horse bench, reefing the anal balls from my body and plunging his gigantic cock into my guts to replace them, fucking me hard and rough. He yanked himself from me with a squelching wet sound and plugged me with a large black rubber butt plug as he whipped my back with a leather whip, and I screamed out for more, lost to the twitching, trembling delights of passionate pain. He chained me to rings in the floor and the ceiling, forced me to stand on my toes as he re-wound the leather cord around my aching cock and hung yet another weight from it, and snapped at my nuts and my dick with a black leathered cat-o-nine. He made me count the blows he landed on me, begging for more as I ached with the intensified sensitivity of every nerve. He swung a chain from the clamps attached to my nipples, pulling and twisting at them as I bellowed out my pleas for his attack to continue, then released my screaming tits, the pain intense as the blood returned to the sensitive nerve ends. He tied me down, spread-eagled on the floor as he ravaged my hole with a large rubber dildo, flexing and bending the toy inside me to drive my body into a frenzy, then stood above me and masturbated while I urged him on with whispered obscenities and begging invitations to use and abuse me, until his essence showered over me, splattering onto my skin and spraying over the leather straps of my harness. He threw me back onto the sling and plumbed my opened ravaged arse with his raging cock, fucking deep into my body and roaring with delight as I screamed for more, his ringed prick scraping in and out as the PA rubbed and dug at me, stimulating my prostate into bucking orgasm. As he attacked and invaded me, penetrated me with his toys and himself, raw animal lust and urgent masculine sexuality the dominant force in the dungeon, I accepted his assaults, welcomed his attention, and begged for more. I didn't plead for him to continue just to keep him happy. I truly needed him, ached and groaned with my own animal longings to be stimulated and satisfied by his rampaging beast of powerful sex. My mind succumbed to the overwhelming power of lust which permeated my being, and I surrendered totally to his every whim, becoming no more than a living breathing toy, whose only purpose was to give him pleasure, and in doing so I found the most incredible heights of blissful arousal and peaking passionate sensuality. ******************** Eventually, the ardour of our day and the exertions of his sex took its toll. Late in the evening, he finally came to a rest, sitting heavily on one of the benches, his leather chaps squealing against the covering of the table as he relaxed. I was swinging in the sling, my legs upended in the stirrups and my arse leaking from the latest deposit of his manjuice humped into me a few minutes earlier. My body was limp with sated desire, exhausted from the hours of abuse he had lavished upon me. The smell of rain was in the air, the downpour having started hours earlier as we ignored it in our passionate coupling. He sat up, and lifted my feet from their restraints, assisting me to stand on wobbly legs. "Come on, fucker," he said, making his way to the door of the dungeon and up the steep steps to the open air. The grey leaden sky was almost blinding as I stepped out of the dim basement. The rain was pelting down, the air fresh and clean after the sex of the cellar. Turning his face upwards, he let the water shower onto him, and sighed, then laughed and set off at an easy run across the fields. I breathed in the sweet smell of the rain, my spirit soared, and I followed my owner, loping along, skipping and jumping across the grass, revelling in the pouring skies and experiencing an incredible freedom, harnessed cuffed and ringed as I was, my cock swinging free and my ravaged body gaining renewed strength from the elements. Laughing with genuine pleasure, he waited for me to catch him up, groping and squeezing at my butt with his big strong hands, and suddenly he reached beneath my legs and back, scooping me up into his arms before throwing me limply over his shoulder. He let out a bellowing yell of animal joy, and wandered along the path, the storm drenching us both as he carried me like I was a sack of flour. When we neared the creek, he dropped me to the ground again, taking my face in his hands and looking deep into my eyes. Then, stunning me completely, he planted a kiss on my lips, as I tasted his manliness. It was only a quick connection, before he lowered me to lie beneath him, but I was overcome, my heart pounding and my head a confusing morass of emotions. As I lay there beneath him, his legs astride me, I looked up at his flaccid cock hovering above me, and whimpered. "Good dog!" he said, softly, almost tenderly. His hand fell to his dick, holding the shaft gingerly, and a shower of warm urine began, pouring down over my face and chest. I watched it begin, and smiled with delight as the first drops hit my skin. The contrast of the cold rain with the heated piss sent tingles across my skin, as I writhed below him, delighting in the shower of his golden stream. Looking into his eyes, making sure he saw that I was watching him, I opened my mouth and followed the flood wherever he directed, drinking of him, swallowing the salty liquid and grinning up at him. He finished his relief, and started to shake his cock, but I sat up quickly, and clamped my mouth over him, licking and sucking to finish his toilet, playing my tongue over his cockhead and teasing his PA as I did. Finally letting go, I lay back again. He took my arm, and together we dived into the creek, a final cleansing before he climbed out and I followed. Quickly then, he removed his own wonderful leathers, and unsnapped and released mine, carrying them back to the house to dry and oil them before they suffered permanent damage from the water. I followed him as far as the steps, and settled myself on the verandah, sitting compliantly near his feet and resting as he worked. To be continued ... Comments, complaints or compliments? Contact me at iainlthr@hotmail.com This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/take-it-or-leave-it/take-it-or-leave-it-3

Date: Fri, 26 Jul 2002 13:36:43 +1000 From: Iain Robertson Subject: Take It Or Leave It - Ch 3 Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!! This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk. This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. Iainlthr@hotmail.com. Take It or Leave It Chapter 3 Iainlthr@hotmail.com We spent several hours in the shaded patch by the river as the sun peaked and began to slide toward the horizon. The heat built up and any thought of exertion quickly disappeared. He jumped up and dived into the river several times to cool down, and allowed me to paddle as well, removing my wrist and ankle bands, but leaving my collar in place. As the afternoon lengthened and the heat receded, my owner began to stir again, mumbling quietly to himself about things that needed to be finished, work that had to be done, even when he was having fun. Checking that my restraints were all back in place, he led me back to the verandah of the cottage, and tied my leash to the post where I had been left earlier. With the sun behind us, the spot was now cool and pleasant, and he left me there, disappearing behind the place again. I settled down, as comfortably as I could, and waited for him. Apart from the occasional grunt or the sound of hammering, I had no more contact with him that afternoon. He had left me alone while he finished whatever it was he was doing. The heat persisted although I had shade where I was tied, and the bowl of water was within reach. Although my hands were now untied, I had no cup or other vessel to drink with, and fearing he could return at any time, I decided not to use my cupped hands for drinking, but to maintain my role as his dog, and drink by sinking my face into the water and lapping as best I could. By late afternoon, I had had a chance to sleep, and found I was getting used to the discomfort of sleeping on a hard surface. The light was still strong although the heat had begun to ease when he appeared again, sweating and a little grimy, still naked in his brawny, hirsute glory. "Hey, dog-boy!" he called to me, a smile of self satisfaction on his face. "I need another wash, down to the creek, come on." He untied the leash, and headed off alone, leaving me to follow by myself. I willingly did as he expected, trailing him to the water. This gave me a great opportunity to stare unnoticed at his firm arse. The globes of flesh were solid, muscled, and covered in a soft coat of dark hair. Watching as he ambled to the stream, then waded in, I found his body alluring, arousing, and began to stiffen. It occurred to me that I was no longer concerned by the part I played; in fact, I found my new station enjoyable, satisfying, and felt that all I had to do was keep my master happy and I would be able to go on like this indefinitely. He finished his bathing, and clambered back up onto the grassy ledge, the cool water matting his hairy body and dripping from his arms and legs. His cock swung easily, invitingly in the open air, and my eyes were drawn to his flaccid organ. My dick twitched and jerked again at the sight of the rod which inflicted such delightful torture on my body. He passed me by, and I instantly jumped up and followed him back to the cottage, where he busied himself preparing a meal while I half sat, half knelt almost at his feet without comment or acknowledgement from him. Taking a seat at the table, he started on his meal as I sat beside him looking up, watching everything he did. I had not eaten for some time, and involuntarily began to salivate as I watched him devour a large steak. He glanced down at me, and chuckled. "Doggy hungry, is he?" I nodded at him, and he cut several pieces of meat from his beef, dropping them one by one to the floor in front of me, where I gratefully picked them up with my mouth, chewing and swallowing, my hands doing no more than supporting my weight as I leaned forward to get at the scraps on the floor. Enjoying my continued acceptance of my position, he began to play with me, holding pieces of food out between his fingers and dangling them at my face before allowing me to bite and swallow them. He finished his meal, our meal, and stood, leaving the plate on the kitchen bench and going to the third room which seemed to be a storage area. "Stay!" he commanded as he did. I could hear him rummaging around but remained where I was in the living area. He muttered to himself as he pulled open drawers and boxes, and I picked up snippets of his words: " ... been so long ... about time for some real fun ... they should fit him ... where did I leave it? ... mmm, feels good ... oh yeah, I'll need that too ..." When he emerged from the room, he had transformed himself. I looked at him in awe, my mouth hanging open, and my cock jumped to instant steely attention. He was no longer naked, but garbed in shining black leather chaps that clung to his muscled legs like an extra layer of skin. With each step ripples of movement shimmered within the polished hide. His giant cock swung in the triangle of bare skin at his groin, already semi hard and leaking pre-cum. Around his biceps were bright black leather bands held in place by glinting metal buckles. A peaked cap on his head made him seem even taller than before. In one hand he held a tangle of leather straps, in the other a long black dildo and a pack of lubricant. He laughed at my reaction, and hissed at me: "Thought I'd only ever get to wear this by myself now, but an obedient little cocksucker can come in useful after all!" He strode over to me, pulling me up straight on my knees. Placing the toy and the lube to one side, he unravelled the straps. It was a leather harness, consisting of shoulder, chest and waist straps, all connected by steel chains. He quickly settled it over me, pulling the leather into place and tightening it around my body. The shoulder bands connected at the centre of my chest to a metal ring, and from that ring two more wide bands ran under my pectoral muscles and around to my back. A fifth strap dropped down to another metal ring at my navel, and two more black bands connected from it around my waist to my back. The harness sat very snugly on me, and he made sure it was firm and binding. The scent of the cured hide wafted to my nostrils, and the texture of the leather on my skin felt wonderful. My dick was throbbing and so hard it ached as he stood back and admired his handiwork. Taking the leather leash attached to my collar in one hand, he picked up the lube and the dildo in the other. "Outside, dogslave!" he said, pulling hard at my neck as I hurried to follow him. In the cooler air he made his way to a flat clearing behind the house which I hadn't seen before. The moon was bright, and gave an eerie sliver glow to the spot, which excited me even more. I guessed that this was what he had been working on during the day, because in the middle of the small field stood a flat bench, much like a saw-horse, the bare timber covered in black material of some kind. He brought me up to it and pushed me forward to lie face down along its length. I found to my further excitement that the covering on the bench was in fact leather, and that it was angled down so that as I lay on it, my head was lower than my arse. The bench supported me from head to hips, my cock swaying in air and my butt levered up and exposed. As I lay where he pushed me, he moved around the arrangement, bending and pulling at something on the supporting legs. I soon found that there were short lengths of chain and steel snaps on the legs, and these he used to secure my wrists and ankles by connecting to the cuffs I wore. Quickly, I was spread-eagled over the leather-covered bench, my arms and legs immobilised, my head down and my arse pointing up and back -- at exactly the height of his groin! Surrounded by open grassland, the stars and inky sky overhead, I found myself the centre of an incredibly erotic scene, a sacrificial offering on an altar of leather to the gods of masculine lust. He stood again, the black leather he wore emphasised by the moonlight, staring at me. "Oh yeah!" he declared quietly, and my heart swelled with excitement and pride. He landed a slap on my exposed cheek, the sound of skin on skin cracking and echoing in the silence of the surrounding land. I felt his hands on my butt, and then lower. He squeezed and pulled at my testicles and I felt a piece of cord being tightened around them, pulling at my sac. The pain was deep, aching, but bearable. My hard throbbing prong danced in the air as he played with my nuts, and then his hands were at my poker, squeezing and pulling at me. I sensed something being tied around me, could feel some kind of material enveloping my cock, but loose, swinging, so that my prick could move freely around, brushing lightly against whatever had been tied around it. Moving to behind me, I could hear him murmur, "oh yeah, this is good." I felt horny, electric, in this position. My nerves tingled, my senses heightened by the exposure and the openness around us. A pressure at my hole, but gentle. Cool, liquid. It was the lubricant, and he was smearing it on my anus, rubbing it into me with his finger. That same finger then pressed inside me, curled and massaged the inner ring of my sphincter with the gel and played with my muscle, arousing me more. A second finger joined the first as he forced me open slowly. Sliding in and out of my arse, he finger fucked me like that for a few minutes. Then he introduced a third finger to my hole, stretching me as the pleasure of his insertion turned to pain momentarily. I accustomed myself to his hand, trying to relax, wondering how much further he intended to go. Fear came on me, but exhilaration as well. Could I take being fisted? Would he try? But then he removed the three fingers quickly. I knew both relief and disappointment in one moment. Without a sound, he moved again, and a new pressure made itself felt. This was solid, unyielding, cool. The dildo! He held the knob of that artificial cock against me, gripped it with his hand and pushed forward slowly but steadily, unrelenting. The head of that thick black rubber toy was large but not as big as my Master's cock. I relaxed my body, pushed back with my muscles and accepted it as he slid it into me. He simply kept pushing, his pace unchanging, a slow but irresistible invasion of my arse. The sensation as it entered me was pleasant, filling, and as the rubber made contact with my prostate I breathed deep and let the delightful sensation wash through my body. The long prong slipped in and in and in, my anus firm around it's shaft as it moved through my sphincter. It kept on coming. I had no idea how long it was, but soon I felt the ache as it pushed well into my bowel and kept on going. My discomfort grew as my innards were shoved slowly but firmly aside by the black invader. I squirmed a little as it edged inward, and received a slap on my bare arse for my trouble. I swore the thing was pushing through my intestine and into my stomach when he finally stopped. I was filled. More than I had ever been filled. I knew it was a trick of the imagination, but I felt stuffed to the throat. "Good, boy," he hissed quietly into my ear, giving the toy a twirl within me and sending waves of aching pleasure through my nerves. Pulling it back a little, he rotated it and shoved again, then started pumping it in and out of me, twisting and bending it as he did. My aching guts gave up their protest as my squelching cavern surrendered to the treatment and took the tingling pleasure it gave. He stood beside me now, one hand manipulating the long dong within me, the other reaching for my tits, pulling and twisting them against the leather of the bench. Then he grabbed at the harness straps, and pulled hard, lifting me off the table as he shoved the dildo back up into my passage. Dropping me again, he pulled the toy back, almost until it exited me, then shoved it in again, fast. Back again, like lightning, then in once more. The suctioning and impaling I took at this treatment made me moan, my breath coming in short gasps. This was unlike any fuck I had known, the depth that black rubber prong reached touched my gut, and the vacuum of its speedy withdrawal suctioned at my bowel. My entire body ached and tingled from the treatment it was receiving. Finally, he pulled it back again, and kept going. The head plopped from my body with an audible squelch, and he slapped the length of the toy down onto my back. My cock throbbed, steel hard and aching, my balls painful and distended, rolling and fighting against the restraint, my need building. He added to the exquisite agony, by teasing my nuts, tracing his fingers softly against the tender skin, then gripping them in his fist and pulling hard, twisting his hand around before releasing me again. My neck jerked back as he grabbed and pulled at the leather lead fastened to the collar I wore. With the leash in one hand, his other hand took hold of the straps of my harness, wrapping his fingers around the leather. I felt the cold metal of his PA press to my soft anus, and tried to open myself for the assault I knew was to come. The force of his thrust surprised me. There was no gradual easing in this time, no firm but slow penetration. Instead, he shoved his huge meaty cock deep into my gut, following the path of the dildo minutes earlier. The rough metal of the ring piercing his weapon scraped at my innards as he impaled my body on his dong, pulling hard at the harness around my torso and using it for leverage to insert himself deeper than ever within my warm wet cavern. As he plumbed the depths of my hole with his meat, he tugged against the lead, jerking my neck back and forcing me to arch my back. This caused his rock hard prick to swing hard inside me, sending new shudders of pleasurable pain through my innards. The PA he wore rubbed and gouged at me. But the sensation was incredible, electric shocks of pure ecstasy jolting every nerve in my body. Now he began to fuck me in earnest, pulling back and shoving in again. He thrust himself at me, pulling on the harness as he did. He bent his knees, then stood up again, moved from side to side even as he pumped, so that his cock not only pounded in and out of me, but rotated and moved around within me. I felt the solidity of him jangling the inner canal of my guts, felt the friction as he slid in and out of my ring, and gasped with delight at the tingling passion he generated within me. His thick, throbbing pole was no longer a battering ram, but a vibrating buzzing instrument which penetrated every part of my body as he twisted and shoved at me. Aching with need, I clenched at him, tried to hold his massive shaft within me, but he pulled back against my hold, then ploughed deep inside again. I surrendered to the rutting humping fuck he directed at me, and pulled against the restraints which kept me in place as I fought to keep up with his frenzied screwing of my hole. I sensed a change in his pace, as he slowed a little in his thrusting, his hand still holding to the harness and pulling me against his distended organ. He pulled back from me, and his cock exited my stretched hole. I gasped with the sudden emptiness, then moaned as he shoved himself back in again in a long fast piercing shot, from the head of his cock to the thick hairy base of his shaft. Again he pulled out, and again he speared into me. On he went, completely exiting my body, then impaling me fully on his gigantic dagger of flesh. Each time his cockhead passed through my sphincter, the uneven solidity of the metal PA rubbed and pulled at my muscle. The firm silver of that piercing massaged my anus, and caressed my prostate with each rotation, delivering waves of indescribable pleasure to my compliant body. I was coming to worship the massive cock that joined me to my master and pumped unimagined pleasure into me as its owner took his delight from my surrender. The tower of flesh, topped with its crown of silver, took possession of me and gave to me the most incredible sensations I had ever known. Suddenly, it was gone, and I was empty again. I braced myself for another invasion, but it did not come. My emptied hole twitched and puckered as I gasped and ached, my cock swinging and rubbing against the textured material around it, my balls struggling and painful in their stretched restraint. I felt him pick up the dildo, and suddenly it was back inside me again, long and piercing, but not so thick as his meat, not so filling as his massive cock. He moved the toy around inside me, bending and flexing it into every crevice of my rectum, playing with my gut as he wrenched it in and out of my sphincter. And then the invading snake of rubber stilled. He held it steady as his hand again slid under the straps of my harness and gripped at me. I waited, the anticipation building as my stretched and ravaged hole flexed at the length of the dildo. That long artificial prong slid slowly out of me as he pulled at it, until only the very tip of the fake penis remained within me. Still holding it steady, he moved again, and I felt the now familiar metal of his Prince Albert nudge at my outer rim, hard against the edge of the rubber toy. I moaned with delight at the prospect of his mighty cock rejoining my body, and waited for the dildo to be removed, flexing and relaxing, pushing back to open my arse as much as I could. The rubbery head did not move, but he did. Pushing forward very slowly, he forced the metal of his piercing into me, nudging at the dildo and stretching me even further. I gasped and ached, my sphincter protesting in agony as his cockhead made its way inside me, fighting for space with the solid rubber toy. I stifled a yell, bit my tongue as the pain increased, swore I was being torn apart as he pressed on, the shaft of the dildo still through my ring and his cock penetrating that stretched protesting muscle. I ached and trembled with pain, finally breaking my silence with a muffled yell. He stopped at that, did not withdraw, but did not push on either. "Easy boy, you can do it," he hissed. I clenched my teeth and willed myself to relax as my hole slowly, reluctantly gave up its protest and adjusted to this new stretching. As I huffed and gasped, breathed quickly and slowly accustomed myself, he waited patiently, unmoving. When my trembling slowed, then stilled, he whispered encouragement. "Good boy. Take it dog, and enjoy it." Strange praise, but it helped me and I groaned a low "uunnnhhhh" as he started to push in again. Gradually, almost tenderly, he inched into me now, the hot length of his masculinity rubbing against the cool rubber of the dildo, both of them opening my arse and sliding slowly inside me. The pain continued and I puffed and breathed trying to take the insertion he insisted on. I told myself I would never do it, could not get both him and the toy inside me without injury as I tried to block the aching from my mind. I concentrated so much on not thinking about what was happening to my arse, that his words shocked me back to reality. "Nice job, dog. You've done it." Suddenly I realised that he had completed his mission, had sunk his huge sword into my yielding body and slid the black rubber dildo in along with it. The surprise I felt at this was then surpassed by the surprise as I realised the pain had gone. Not only had I taken this double intrusion with being ripped apart, but my stretched anus had accepted the assault and grown accustomed to it. There was a discomfort that was rapidly disappearing and I lay there, unable to move, and allowed my body to tell me how incredible I felt, held wide open and filled so totally. I marvelled at my arse's ability to adjust, and tingled with the intensity of the sensations rolling through me. I risked a light flex of my sphincter muscle, to find that rather than hurting, it increased the pressure, and the pleasure, I felt. He noticed the spasm, and knew it signalled my readiness for more. Slowly he began, then increased his tempo, fucking me again, but now with both his giant meaty rod and the rubber toy at once. I moaned with the intensity of the pleasure that enveloped me as he humped steadily into me. He too was extremely excited by the double penetration, gasping and moaning, hissing grunts of pleasure with each motion. A change of pace, and instead of the dildo riding in and out alongside him, he reversed it so that as his cock sank into me the toy was pulled out, and as he withdrew his thick rod he pushed the fake prong against its motion and back into me. The friction and irregular movement sent waves of erotic delight through me, my cock twitching and leaking, my balls heaving. As for him, the friction of the reverse direction of the black rubber plug, combined with the heated wetness of my guts and the vice-like grip of my anus, sent him into raptures. His voice rose in pitch and volume, his breathing quickened to hissing gasps and his body shuddered. Within minutes, his grip on my harness tugged with all his strength in one mighty yank as he ploughed his cock deep inside me and shoved the dildo back in along with it. He spasmed as he did, the hot cream of his orgasm shooting into me, and spilling out between his cock and the toy as he humped and pumped, unloading his essence deep inside my guts. He shook, and I shook with him, connected as we were. He jetted into me and gulped for air, ramming his entire body hard against the curve of my arse, shoving his cock hard into me and pushing the dildo hard. For fully five minutes he held that position, twitching and shooting, rocking against me in extended orgasm. When finally the climax subsided, he laughed out loud, slapping my cheek with his palm. "Fuck, yeah, boy!" The effect of the slap was to cause my butt to clamp again around his cock and the dildo, sending more waves of tingling pleasure through me, and squeezing him again so that he laughed some more with the pleasure. As the intensity eased, he pulled himself from me, leaving the dildo in place until he was gone. Once his ringed head slid from me, the toy felt small, almost inconsequential. He slid that thing from my hole easily and dropped it on the grass. Emptied, I relaxed, still bound in place, unable to move, my dick throbbing and fit to burst with the built up need. I had been placed on this altar of sex in the open air, covered in moonlight and sacrificed to pleasure, stabbed by living flesh and pierced by rubber and blackness. I moaned with need as my balls ached. He knelt just beside and behind me now, pulling again at my agonised nuts. "Ha, usually have to milk the cows, can't be much different when you milk a dog!" he laughed at his joke, his hand going around my cock, squeezing it through the covering tied around me. He started to pull at my cock as if he was in fact milking me like a cow, manipulating my shaft, squeezing at the base and pulling towards the tip, then letting go to start again. I mumbled and gasped at the treatment, desperate to blow, but the tie around my nut sack prevented the escape of my juice, and the explosion I craved. For 10 or 15 minute he teased me like this, pulling and playing with my trembling painful dick, whispering obscenities and words of encouragement, driving me to despair as my body ached for release that would not come. Finally, happy with his game, he suddenly undid the leather cord around my balls, and with the painful rush of blood back into my system came a crashing heaving explosion as my cock erupted, spewing load after load of my manjuice through the heated aching shaft of my prick. I shuddered and twitched, gasped and puffed for ages as my orgasm crashed into me and rolled on and on, seeming like it would never end. When finally the pleasure eased and my mind came back to earth, he was there again, hand on my back, patting me like the dog I was. "Good boy, nice dog" he said as he massaged the base of my root, below my balls, squeezing every last drop of cum from me. Undoing the material which had remained shrouding my meat, he stood up, satisfied. "Now that's what I call a good milking," he said. He released my wrists and ankles, and pulled me upright by the collar until I sat exhausted on the bench. "A dog needs to keep up its protein intake," he lectured at me, holding up his hand. In it was a leather pouch, a full bag, and I knew it was what had been tied around my shaft. He had collected my cum in the sack of leather he now held. Coming to me, he pulled open the top. "Drink your protein, dog!" he commanded. As I opened my mouth he tipped the pouch to my lips, squeezing its contents onto my tongue and down my throat. I lapped at my own ejaculate, swallowing and gulping, tasting the salty sweetness of myself and drinking of my own essence. ******************** Stretching out on the grass, the warm night air around us, he relaxed after the fucking he had administered. "A good night's work," he declared to himself, standing slowly, the gleaming black leather of his chaps bright in the glow of the moon. He pulled me up as well, and headed back to the front of the cottage. Inside, he left me on the floor as he unzipped the skintight chaps and unbuckled the armbands he wore. Removing his cap, he carefully wiped and cleaned the leather, going to the room where it was kept and putting it away. He looked at me as he came back, something in his hand. "Dogs look good in a proper harness," he said. "You can stay like that. I've got something extra for you, although it's not quite what I wanted. Lie on your back, boy." As I obeyed, he showed me what he held. A butt plug. Similar to the one he had used last night, although a little wider at its widest point. "With all the work your hole has had tonight dog, I hope this stays in place." He eased it into my arse, still slicked from the lube and his cum, pushing past the flange. I felt a moment of pain as it popped inside, then the familiar sense of being filled again. Looking at me with the black base protruding from my arse, he said wistfully, "Pity it's just a plug. This dog would look so much better with a tail, but you can only use what's to hand." I assumed I would be returned to the floor in the third room to sleep for the night, but instead he led me back outside and down the steps. I had a quizzical look on my face, wondering what else he intended for the evening. I had thought he was ready to retire himself. We rounded the corner of the cottage where he had been working that afternoon, and he pointed while he looked at my face. There at the side of the building was a low, long oblong timber structure with a slight pitched roof. For a second I stared uncomprehending, then I recognised it for what it was. A kennel! He had built me a kennel! Three times my own body width, and long enough to lie at full stretch, it had a low doorway I could only enter on hands and knees, with a piece of sackcloth over the opening. Kneeling, I pulled the cloth open. Inside was a `bed' of old blankets and material, and next to it a bowl of water. If I had seen it at any other time I would have laughed at the ludicrous thought, but after what I had been through, I was touched, humbled. This man, who used me and abused me for his pleasure, who treated me literally like a dog, and had bargained slavery from me as the price of my rescue, had gone to the not unsubstantial effort of building me my very own kennel! I turned to him, my emotions cartwheeling inside my head. I almost forgot myself, wanted to thank him and hug him, but one look at his powerful, bear like frame, naked and strong in the warm night air, and I knew what to do. On hands and knees again, I crawled to him, looked up into his eyes and whimpered my thanks, then licked him. I licked a long sloppy trail up his leg, then risked a bit of fun for myself, and licked at the long flaccid tube of flesh I enjoyed so much, taking his cockhead between my lips and running my tongue over the edge of his PA. I know he was truly pleased with my reaction, and he let me suckle at his prong for a few seconds, before pushing me gently away. "Time for some rest," he said quietly. He did not tie me to anything, but simply walked away. I happily watched him go inside, then crawled into my `home' and made myself comfortable, falling asleep on the pile of rags quickly and contentedly. To be continued ... Comments, complaints or compliments? Contact me at iainlthr@hotmail.com This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/no-glory/no-glory-1

Date: Wed, 10 Oct 2001 17:42:25 -0700 From: David's Tales Subject: No Glory 1 David entered the adult bookstore with an agenda that spring evening. As his wife was out of town visiting her sister, he decided to try viagra and head to his favorite bookstore for some glory hole action. Although his interests in pornography covered almost every subject including gay material, and even though he enjoyed occasionally sucking a nice cock through a glory hole, he always considered himself a heterosexual. In fact those that knew him, thought of him as a homophobic. However, there he was cleanly showered, smartly dressed as if he were going clubbing uptown. He was certainly ready for some action. He parked around the block to make sure that no one would recognize his car and connect him to the bookstore. As David entered the store he looked around to make sure that there wasn't anyone there that knew him, then he walked up to the counter to retrieved five dollars of quarters from the store clerk. One of the counter people was a surprisingly attractive Latino woman in her early twenties, and although he would have felt more comfortable with the flaming fag that worked with her help him, David kept his eyes lowered as he accepted the change. He then quickly headed through the black curtains in the rear of the store into the section with the videos. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light he felt safety in the darkness and he stood in front of the preview wall of video boxes to pick the channels he would watch once he got into the video booth. Already his cock was reacting to both the viagra and the images in front of him. As he maneuvered his hand to his crotch to adjust his raging hardon, he was starting to get attention from the guys lurking around the isles. Anonymous man to man sex through a hole in the wall was one thing, but he was not comfortable with eye to eye contact, nor the attention he was getting standing there with his tan buffed beach boy look (from those fags as he thought of them). From the outside he may have been seen as a tease, but in reality he was confused and scared by his desires, so he hastily headed to his favorite booth and then quickly secured the lock on the door. He sat down and started loading the machine with quarters and picked the channel with a young black girl getting fucked in the ass. Somehow it made him feel more "straight" to watch this type of movie rather than a gay one. Already David's cock was to its full erection and he freed his 7-inch thick cut cock from the confines of his slacks. As he started pumping his hand up and down the length of his dick he heard the door shut in the booth next to his. He had chosen this booth because of its 6-inch glory hole, and he dropped to his knees to get a look into the next booth. Although he could not see the face of the person in the next booth, he could see a black hand rubbing a nice bulge in a pair of gray sweat pants. From the clear outline David could tell the guy had no underwear on, and he hungered for the taste of the flesh now tenting in the front of the thin loose material. As if on cue, the guy in the next booth untied the drawstring pulled down the sweat pants to mid thigh, and started stroking this exposed cock right in front of the glory hole. The only thing on David's mind was sliding that shaft through his eager lips. After a couple of minutes he shoved his black cock through the glory hole to David's open mouth. Although he wasn't ever able to deep throat someone, David did his best to work the nice 8-inch hard black cock. Although it was hard it seemed almost velvety smooth. The head on the cock was perfect as David felt it sliding along the roof of his mouth and stretch his lips as it started to slide out of them. However, David had no intention of letting that cock be free from his lips, in fact he felt like this was going to be the first load he swallowed. He usually stopped short of letting someone cum during his previous glory hole experiences, but tonight he felt an urge to bring someone off with complete satisfaction. He had tasted pre-cum but never a load, and a load is what he was working towards right now. After several minutes, he realized he needed more quarters and as the store security attendant knocked outside the door demanding he put more money in the machine, only then David reluctantly pulled his attention away from the glistening slick hard shaft, and left the booth to retrieve more quarters. As David moved through the isle he did the best to hide his blind frenzy to get back to his task. As he really got to opportunity indulge in this kind of action, he valued the nice rod he had access to. To avoid being seen by the attractive attendant, he used the machine in the isle to get more quarters. While reentering the booth he had left he felt the door stop just before it was fully closed. There standing at the door was the person whose cock he longed to return to. The problem confronting David was he was not comfortable with someone face to face that was to gay! He was only comfortable with his actions when there was a wall separating him from someone else and now that barrier of protection seemed gone. Now he was looking into the face of someone about 12 years younger than him as the young man enter the booth and shut the door behind him. As David started to explain that he was not comfortable with the new arrangement, he was pushed down on his shoulders so that he seemed to be talking to the young mans crotch. "Shut up fag and suck my cock," the young man said. "You and I both know you're a white trash cock sucking whore in search of black man seed". Now open those lips and take your treat. David started to proclaim his position as a married straight guy when the black shaft filling every part of his mouth silencing his words. His nose was up against the black curly pubic hair of the younger man as he looked up towards the face of the owner of this wonderful cock. As his eyes met with the young mans for the first time, he felt that he looked strangely familiar. Although he couldn't place where he had seen the young man, David was now fearful that their paths had crossed before. Out of instinct he started to pull his head back and away from the black cock that was being thrusted in and out of his mouth when he felt two firm hands on the back of his head. Now seeming in complete control the young man was fucking his face. When the young man demanded all of his change, David first felt as though he was being shaken down or robbed, but then he realized that the security guard would start to hassle them if the movie didn't run. He reached down into his pocket and submissively handed over all of his change. The young black man took one hand away from the back of David's head and filled the machine with the quarters he changed the station to one with a black guy and a white female teen. "I just love fucking white pussy and ass", he said to David. "You know your pretty good at sucking dick; I wonder if your ass is as sweet. Pull your pants off and let me get a look at your ass." Although David had played with dildos as he masturbated and fantasized, he had never had a real dick in him. First he pulled off his shoes and neatly placed them on the bench and then he slid his pants and underwear off in one motion without even thinking. Somehow he was under complete control of this young man. He was now naked from the waist down and felt more vulnerable than ever before. As he was fumbling to keep his attention on the cock being thrusted into his mouth, he felt the hands being released from the back of his head. "Stand up slut", the young man said. Then as David stood he felt his shirt being opened and pulled off. Now completely naked and standing on a floor with small puddles of cum in his bare feet as he felt utterly cheap. Then the young man spun him around so that he was facing the door and he pushed down on his shoulders to put David in a bent over position with his ass exposed to the young mans control. "You have a nice bubble butt for a white boy", the young man said." I'll bet you like to get fucked don't you?" David whispered back as if he could keep those out side of the booth from knowing what was going on: " Actually I've never done that before". As if sensing David's embarrassment the young man raised his voice even higher and proclaimed " I got me a really white virgin here". Although David expected to hear security at the door, all he heard was laughter as he felt the young mans cock sliding up and down the crack of his ass. Pre-cum was making the cock slid smoother in his crack. He was surprised how good it felt and even more surprised that his body seemed to be responding by the rhythm. He often wondered how it would feel to have a real dick fuck him, and he thought he was ready and willing to have his first. Then he felt the thrusting stop and felt a finger start probing his ass hole. He was tight and he knew it, now his partner was finding out how tight he really was. "Dam your tight, your ass is going to feel good on my dick, but you got to go get some lube", the young black man demanded. "Put your pants back on and go get some Vaseline I like how that feels and don't worry about rubbers, I'm taking you bareback. " Please don't make me go out there, let me just get you off with in my mouth", David pleaded. As the young black man reach over and unlocked the door he said " you can go out there stark naked or you can put your pants on, it doesn't matter, everyone in the place knows your going to give your white cherry ass to me one way or another". As the door started to open exposing him to those in the isle looking in David grabbed his pants and slid them on as fast as he could. As he started to grab for his shirt and shoes he got the idea of just running out the front door to his safety of life back in the closet. He then felt very forceful hands on his wrists. Just the pants white boy, he said as he guided David out of the booth to the eyes of those in the video arcade. The dozen or so in the isles each had a remark or expression that let him know that they all did in fact know what was going on. There was a Philippino "fag" that he always saw when he went to that arcade. The guy was in his early 20s but looked well used. Most of the time David saw him he was either begging to suck someone's cock or trying to get into one of the booths. He was the kind of guy David despised and looked down at, but now he wondered if he was becoming like that "fag". Although they were about the same height, David was much more built. The Pinoy Toy looked almost feminine in his frayed blue jean cut offs and crop top. David brushed by him when the "Pinoy Toy" said, "you get him girl". Chuckles were heard through out the arcade. It wasn't until he was just about to go through the black drapes into the light of the store when the reality of what he was about ready to do started to sink in. Here he was dressed only in a pair of slacks with a major hard that the viagra was maintaining in spite of his shame about ready to expose his predicament to anyone in the store. To his utter humiliation he heard female voices as he entered the store. The level of intensity increased when he saw that they were 4 pretty and young ladies looking for gifts for a bacheloret party. When they saw him they got quiet and his head was hung in total shame. As he raised his eyes to look up to the counter, he was looking at the pretty Latino attendant. He grabbed a small tube of Vaseline on the counter and pulled a $20 out of his wallet and said "just this please". The attendant then said with a smirk on her face "from the sound of it you might want to get this size instead as she slid over the large size tube and turned around to get the change. As David heard the roar of laughter come from the group of girls he turned around and said, "keep the change" as he disappeared behind the curtain to the video arcade. All eyes seemed to be upon him as he worked his way through the maze to the booth in the corner. Hands violated him as he passed and a couple of guys squeezed his butt. He was used to being seen as an executive for a large company with all the power and respect that came with it. However, right now people were looking at him in a way that was foreign to him. As he tried regain some of his strength and dignity he entered the booth with a new resolve to get his clothes and leave before things got more out of hand. As he opened the door it was evident that his shirt and shoes were gone as well as the young black man. From across the issue came the voice of the young black male saying "come in here bitch if you want your ass fucked by a real man". David turned and entered the larger booth. Inside was the young black male and the flaming Philippine guy he had seen earlier in the hall. David had enough of this and he was determined to leave. "I just want my stuff and I want to leave" David said. "You want your stuff," said the young black guy, "get over hear and I'll stuff you". David looked at the erection in the young black mans hand and he felt the "pinoy Toy's" hands on his pants zipper, then on the button on the pants. His resolve to leave was melted away as he felt the strong hands on the back of his head pulling him towards the hard black cock. The Pinoy toy was sliding David's pants down his legs as he made oral contact with the cock and he instinctively lifted his feet so the pants could be completely removed from his body. With his naked body bent at the waist David sunk his lips around the black shaft. "Eddie, I have to tell you he's a better cock sucker than you", said the young black male. "Loosen him up for me and I'll see if he has an ass that compares to your legionary pussy." "Mike, I'll get sweet cheeks here so loose you'll be able to fist him when I'm done with him." Now these guys had names. An hour ago David didn't even want to know the face of the men he had sex with, and now it seem comfortable to know their names. As these thoughts briefly went though his mind, David felt the soft hands of Eddie on his ass as his cheeks were spread open. Then he felt an incredible sensation as Eddie's tongue worked its way around his asshole. Eddie continued to work his experienced tongue around the asshole causing David to moan without reservation. The cock in his mouth was the only thing muffling his moans. He didn't care if someone heard him, because as Mike had said, they all knew what was going on. He didn't even care that the door was wide open and there were guys watching Eddie ream his ass and see him sucking Mike's cock. "So slut you like your ass being eaten." Mike said "Uhuh" David mumbled "It does look like it feels pretty good, I think I'll let you taste my ass" Mike said David's eyes got real wide as Mike pulled his head off this cock and Mike put his legs up on the bench he was sitting and exposed his ass to David. Never had he even considered sticking his tongue near a guy's ass hole but David did like going down on women. He was surprise how good Mike's ass looked. It was smooth, hairless, and clean. If he could get past the cock and balls just above it, it looked as good as one of the ebony teen asses he beat off to on the Internet. David extended his tongue at tasted his first black ass, and he liked it. He was soon going down on Mike's ass with the intensity he used to go down on his wife. Eddie's work on his ass only inspired him further. David was lost in a lustful bliss when he felt Eddie's fingers probing his hole and spreading Vaseline into his loosened hole. The work on his ass seemed to drive him further into Mike's ass. He felt Mike's big balls and cock on his forehead as he worked his tongue around and in & out of the asshole. First Eddie had one finger in him then two followed by three and four. Saliva was running down David's chin when Mike pulled him away from his ass. "Bitch if you don't stop I'll cum before I take you," Mike said. "It looks like Eddie has you open for me. Turn around and take a seat." Mike lowered his feet from the bench and leaned back. His cock stood straight up from his lap. Eddie removed his fingers from David's ass and it left David feeling surprisingly warm, slippery and empty. David was actually craving Mike's cock to be in his ass as he positioned his hole above Mike's erection. Eddie's hands were loaded with Vaseline as he rapped them around Mike's cock and positioned it for entry. David's asshole seemed to be gapping open as it accepted Mike's cock. He felt the head entering him and felt it sliding deep in him until his ass cheeks rested on Mike's pubes. When he opened his eyes and focused, David saw 6 guys of various ages and ethnicity watching the penetration from the doorway. Most of them were openly masturbating including the security guard. Eddie was standing to his side and had a look of pride on his face as his small cock hung outside of the leg of his fringed cut-offs. It seemed like he had given David enough time to acclimate to his cock so Mike started a bumping action to get David's ass moving. David got the message and started to work his ass up and down Mike's shaft. After a couple of minutes Mike decided he wanted more control of David so he stood up and tossed David off his shaft. David hardly had time to adjust to the void in his ass before Mike pushed him forward, bent him over, and in one motion thrusted himself into David's willing hole. In the other position David didn't feel his prostate being stimulated, but in this position he was in pure lustful bliss. "You walked into this place looking all prissy, tell them what makes you happy now," Mike said. Sensing too long of a pause before an answer Mike lead him further. "Tell these guys you love having my cock up your ass", Mike said David realizing where he was going wanted to take it even further, " I'm Mike's white slut and I love to feel him fucking me. His cock seems like it was made to fuck me and I can't wait to feel him fill me with his cum". One of the guys at the door way started to shoot his load as he watched the merger of Mike's dark black shaft into David's white ass. Although he had not been physically part of the action up to that point the 50ish Latino males rubbed his erupting cock across David's face and spread his semen around his lips. The taste of cum had an aphrodisiac effect on David and his lust level went up two notches. Eddie still had quite a bit of Vaseline on his hands as he bent down and took David's cock in his hand and started to jack him off as Mike penetrated him from behind. David somehow had found total comfort in the roll of slut and enjoyed being the center of attention. There was a young white boy at the doorway that couldn't have been much more than 18 years old. David reached out and pulled the young man by the cock and sunk his lips around his cock. The kid had been so close watching the scene and stroking himself that he shot off in David's mouth within a minute. David now swallowed some of his load, and he had cum running out of his lips and all over his face but all he could think about was Mike's thrusting, Eddie's stroking and filling his mouth with another cock. Eddie took off his clothes and shoved his small cock into David's mouth. David was briefly aware of how low he had sunk as Eddie unloaded his cum into David mouth, but when he started to clean David's face with his tongue and then French kissed him it was too much for David. Before he could protest he felt Mike's cock expanding in his asshole and felt the black shaft pulsate as it unloaded into his man pussy. With Mike's cock still buried in his ass David reach down and quickly brought himself off cuming all over his legs. Several other guys shot loads and came over different parts of David. As each guy came they quickly left leaving the three of them alone in the booth. Mike pulled his cock out of David's ass leaving the hole gapping and dripping the monster load Mike had dumped in him. As David's started to reach for his clothes, Mike stopped him. "You owe Eddie for his services, I think the least you can do is give him some new rags", Mike said "Then what do you expect me to wear" David asked in a challenging tone. "Eddie can he have your clothes in exchange for his", Mike asked "Sure, if you think they will fit". "Don't worry about that, go ahead and take his clothes and get out of here," Mike commanded. David pulled up Eddie's shorts and found they barely covered his ass. Mike was pulling up his sweat pants and Eddie was gone before David's predicament was coming to focus. He had no choice but to leave the booth wearing Eddie's outfit. Strangely he thanked Mike as David left the booth and waked past the eyes of the attractive store attendant with several loads of cum visible and a large wet spot showing prominently though the faded denim material. The Viagra kept his cock hard and sticking out of the torn and frayed legs of Eddie's shorts. He knew she was aware of what had transpired and he felt total humiliation. David didn't think things could be any worse until he got to his car and realized Eddie had his keys and wallet in his pants. David found himself locked out of his car and knew he looked like a prostitute wearing Eddies slut outfit.

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Date: Wed, 11 Dec 2024 04:58:41 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone Subject: HIMBO CHAPTER 20 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER -- CHAPTER 20 NEW EMAIL: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2024 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. This is the FINAL chapter of this story. Joey and his father have become muscle slaves to Coach Mike. The Coach has become financially wealthy by using the two himbos to his own advantage. He uses drugs and takes advantage of their stupidity to control both men. This chapter ends with a nice surprise The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: I hope to write more often and have started the next story taking place in an all male prison. As most of you know, I enjoy writing about the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. All characters are over the age of 18 and willingly become submissive. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have a new email address: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please read ALL my stories and write to me and share your thoughts. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 20 Joey wins another competition and now qualifies as a IFBB bodybuilder. He has multiple cums on the stage, soaking the sperm into his sheer pink posers. Coach had trained the boy how to cum on demand and the audience knew that now. Some people thought it could be excessive sweat stains but, regardless, word had spread and huge crowds had formed around the boy. He would come off stage holding his trophies with cum dripping from his posers. Frank had become Joey's bodyguard after the shows, where dozens of people wanted to see his massive leaking cock up close. Coach put Frank in charge of collecting names and "donations" from the crowd for private showings after the shows. Coach would allow patrons to feel Joey anywhere they chose, including his slimey cock pouch, for a $100 fee. He would push the boy into a small room with a paying customer for 10 minutes. The client could smell, lick, taste and suck the boy anywhere he chose but Joey was not allowed to cum without permission from the coach. During competition season, the Coach only allowed Joey to cum onstage and was caged during these private showings to prevent "mistakes". He would also allow the men to fuck his holes for a $250 fee, but never allow Joey to orgasm himself. The money was coming in now. Joey would entertain groups of men now where Frank would orchestrate bukkake fucking of the boy, collecting money and making sure Joey did not cum. Coach eventually started an ONLYFANS account and began videotaping these events. The money was multiplying and all of it going to Coach Mike. Joey believed he was famous now. He was hired as an underwear model that specialized in fetish gay underwear. The photo shoots were very professional until it was over where the Coach would have Joey service every man as a thank you. Joey loved showing off and lived in his own reality... fueled by the drugs and praise that he received anywhere he went. Coach made sure that Joey took his vitamins of Viagra and dopamine to keep him calm and obedient always looking for the next orgasm. Some modeling shows were for fetish gay wear and novelty items. Joey was the "slaveboy" on his hands and knees in chains. As he walked, or crawled, the horny men couldn't keep their hands off of him. Sometimes the Coach would blindfold the boy so he would have no idea of who would eventually breed his cunt at the end of the show. The audience loved it and.... The money multiplied again. Coach Mike controlled all the money. Sponsors were waiting in line to "Help" the boy with his bodybuilding and "modeling" ambitions. Joey was given a salary of $10 each week, where he would buy himself some chewing gum or sugar free soda. Everything else was provided to him. Joey had no responsibilities. No worries. Joey lived stress-free and only thought about food, muscle and his next orgasm. Along with his steroids and vitamin supplements, he was given drugs laced with THC, dopamine and Viagra to keep him dazed. He was constantly horny but wouldn't dare to mention it for fear of being punished again. If not caged away, his cock was usually hard and dripping pre-cum. Joey had to ignore it as though it was normal to walk around the house or the gym with an exposed hard cock. "I think it's best for you to not think, Joey." Coach said, "Your brain is unable to deal with all the pressures of celebrity, so let me handle that for you." Joey hung his tongue out to speak. "Yes, boy, you may speak." Coach pet him like a dog. "Thank you Sir." Joey said, "I mean, thank you for taking care of everything for me so I can just be a good boy and obey you. Right Sir? Am I being a good boy?" "Yes Joey," Coach replied, "and sometimes you will have to be a good girl for the straight men who want to use your pussy. They don't fuck boys but you need their cum so you will have to be their girl. You understand that?" "I think so Sir," Joey said, "but it's better if you just tell me what I should do to get their cum and I will obey you. Is that OK Coach?" "Yes Joey," Coach said, "I know that brain of yours gets confused easily, I will tell you what to do." "Thank you Coach," Joey kissed the Coaches feet, "thank you for helping me Sir." "Good boy," Coach said, "So you will have to be a girl sometimes in order to get that cum." Joey just looked at the coach. "That's right girl" Coach said as he pet Joey's face. "We will have to dress you like a pretty girl in lingerie and heels so straight men will get horny enough to give you their cum. I have some very pretty outfits for you for our event next week." Joey hung his tongue out. "Yes boy." "Coach," Joey spoke, "but I have a cock." Coach instantly slapped the boy hard across the face. Joey was shocked and dropped down rubbing his face. He looked up at the coach. "No, you don't have a cock, you fuckin stupid bitch." He reached down and pulled Joey back to his feet by grabbing his throat. "When you are in lingerie, you have a clitty, girl. Stupid fags like you aren't real men anyway, especially when you need their cum." Joey stared up at the Coach. "Remember that. You will be whatever I want you to be. You will have a pretty little clit that will be locked away when you are with straight men. They don't like to see or touch it, understand?" Joey nodded. "It doesn't matter anyway bitch. You are there to get their cum inside you, that's all. You will do it anyway the man wants as long as he dumps in cum into that fag cunt you have." Joey just kept nodding, hoping he wouldn't anger the coach again. Eventually Joey could do nothing on his own. He had to ask permission to use the bathroom and would usually be accompanied by his father. Sometimes quietly, Frank would rub his son's cock for a few minutes, only making poor Joey even more horny and frustrated Joey was gaining notoriety and becoming a huge draw wherever he went. He was finally a star and happy to play by the Coach's rules to keep it that way. Frank became Joey's bodyguard and sexual partner during his private demonstrations. Men loved to see the father fuck and abuse his son. Frank was also not allowed to cum unless the Coach gave him permission. It was all a matter of money so Frank and Joey had to follow strict rules about what they could do sexually. Joey would be in chastity unless clients paid more to allow his faggot cock to harden. Every sexual act had a price. Rimming, piss, bondage, nipple torture, lingerie, leather, and spanking all had a price to pay. Neither men were allowed to actually cum unless clients paid more. The Joey's life became very routine eventually. He got used to becoming the Coach's property now. He would wake up from his cage and empty the piss bowl that he used during the night by drinking it down again. After he and his father gave each other mutual massages, they would lick the crotches of each other's thong to get them clean, and put them back on for another day. They wore sheer tight nylon tank top that was cut below their pecs line to expose their nipples. Barefoot and sometimes in thigh high nylons depending on who was visiting for breakfast. After breakfast, Joey would be given his daily vitamins of Viagra, mega doses of steroids and dopamine as usual. He would constantly be drinking his energy "formula" throughout the day. After this, Joey and his father Frank, would clean their pussy holes for the day and prepare for their gym workout. Coach now had two fags. After the workout, no shower or cleaning the musky smell, Joey would pose for pictures and take his first load of cum in his mouth and pussy. More loads depending on how many admirers he had at the gym. Joey was becoming huge now. Then lunch. After lunch, Frank would train his son on increasing his threshold of pain. That would include tying and gagging the boy, spanking, some nipples torture, electrodes and bondage. Joey would have to hold open his ass cheeks so Frank could spank him directly on his tender asshole pussy. Joey dreaded when this happened but knew he had to take the pain to become stronger eventually. Frank would simply followed the Coach's instructions for the day. After the Pain Management, Joey would nap before his afternoon Cardio and stretching workout. For this, the boy was usually plugged. The chastity cage was removed and Joey given a vibrating cock ring. He was under supervision and knew he could not touch his cock. The cock ring forced to keep his cock hard through out the afternoon workout. When he started dripping precum, a condom was put over shaft. Joey would be edged by his father constantly but not allowed to cum. Joey had to learn how to hold even the dripping of precum. Coach would observe the condom to be sure it remained empty. If there was a pool of clear liquid, there would be severe punishment which including whipping the boy. Coach was very careful not to put any marks on Joey's body because he had to stay in perfect condition. He was gaining notoriety as a beautiful muscled bodybuilder and the crowds were growing. The money was coming in. Coach Mike controlled all of it. His gym membership doubled and Joey was attracting several legitimate commercial sponsors. His picture was now on magazine covers as a new hot bodybuilder on the scene. Coach was making thousands of dollars each month, all at Joey's expense. Joey also had several different sponsors who would expect his services whenever needed. Joey was on call and ready to take their cum in either hole. Joey would be at every gay event in town and would draw huge crowds. His father Frank, would always be nearby as men were always wanting to feel or touch his private parts. Joey, of course, would allow anyone to touch him as long as the Coach approved. Frank made sure they paid the appropriate fee before they touched the boy. Whenever they were private, Coach told Joey that he should be constantly training and wanted Joey to have constant weight resistant training 24/7. In order to do that, Coach wanted Joey to carry weights around with him all day. Frank was told to attach weights to chains hanging from Joey's body. Coach told stupid Joey that the weighted chains hanging from his body would require the boy to struggle as he walked. This weight "resistance" would ultimately build more muscle everywhere. Joey believed the Coach and watched as his father draped heavy chains, with weights attached, around his neck, shoulders, arms, waist and legs. His ankles were also chained so Joey would have to drag the weight wherever he went. A weighted chain hung from his nipples and his balls. Coach inserted a long dildo into Joey's pussy that was somehow attached to his chastity cage. Joey became a chained slave. "That dildo better not come out until I say so you better squeeze that pussy faggot." The coach ordered Joey to do normal household chores but the boy would struggle just to lift his arms or legs. He moved cautiously because he had to squeeze his ass tight to keep the dildo lodged inside his pussy hole. "Lets go boy, get this place cleaned." Coach accused him of being lazy and needed to find a way to motivate the boy. "I can help Sir." His father Frank said. "How the fuck can you do anything homo.?" Coach chuckled. "You can't lift his arms for him, can you?" "NO Sir, but maybe I can motivate him by encouraging him." Frank said. That gave the Coach an idea. He went to get a small cat tail whip. "Use this to motivate the faggot, homo." Coach said as he gently turned Joey around and whipped his ass several times. Joey was shocked but didn't dare react. He thought that, if the Coach said it would benefit his muscle growth, then he would obey him, of course. Joey wanted to be a good obedient boy. "Finish the kitchen and do the laundry faggot". He whipped the boy several times and Joey yelled. "Yes Sir!!" Joey screamed. "Ohhhh no faggot," Coach said, "no noise and you'll be sorry if you lose that dildo too." Joey worked while his father would gently slap his ass with the cattails. Joey had to stop moving and allow himself to be spanked without fear of losing the dildo. "I have some work to do so you both have to be quiet." Coach said as he threw a ball gag to Frank, who wrapped it around joey's head and stuffed it into the boy's mouth. "I want you to follow the fag around the house, homo." Coach ordered. "If he slows down, spank his ass with the whip." "Yes sir" Frank said as he whipped his son. Joey tried to move as fast as he could, dragging the chains behind him. The boy worked until his ass was bright red from the cat tails. When the coach walked in, the boy was now in tears as he finished his work. Joey was breathing heavily and now sweating like a smelly pig. "Ahhh, his ass is nice and red now." Coach said as he inspected the boys red butt. He noticed the thick dildo was now half way out of Joey's ass. "Good work homo." Coach said to Frank, "and let me know when he loses the dildo". "Yes Sir. Thank you Coach." Frank replied. Joey was determined to keep the dildo inside of his pussy but it was a lost cause and only a matter of time. Joey knew he was doomed to fail. He almost thought this was part of the Coach's plan "I want you to squat down and clean the radiators boy." Coach ordered. "Squat?" Joey thought, "there is no way I can hold the dildo in my cunt hole." He squat down once and felt the dildo moving. He needed to squeeze it harder inside his ass. Suddenly, after he relaxed for a second, the dildo popped out. Frank started spanking his boy with the whip. "Bad boy." Frank yelled, "You're supposed to keep It inside you." "Fuck," Joey mumbled through the gag. "Shut up." Coach yelled. "Homo, I'll take over from here." He looked at Frank and said, "Go get yourself cleaned out and ready for tonight. You're going on a date." Coach slapped Franks butt as he spoke to him, "I got a nice price for you homo so you better make me proud tonight. I want you to wear what I put out on the bed for you." "Yes Sir," Frank looked confused but went into the bathroom to clean up. "What the fuck did you do faggot." Coach looked back at Joey, who was sweating like a pig and smelled like a sewer. He was crying because he knew he was in trouble. "You stink," Coach said, "Get over here." He dragged the boy by his hair to a platform. "If you can't keep the cock inside that fuckin pussy, we will have to keep it there for you. Stand up here." Coach removed the chains from his body but left his nipples clamped with weights and the gag was kept in his mouth Joey stood on the platform. The coach removed Joey's panties and pulled his arms over his head. He reattached ropes to the cuffs around his wrists and pulled them through a pulley on the ceiling. He kicked the boys legs open. Three blocks were put by each of the boy's feet. "Stand on the blocks faggot." Coach ordered. Joey did exactly as he was told as confused as he was. The coach tightened the ropes slightly over his head. Then, Joey's eyes bulged open when he saw the coach place a pole in between his legs. The short pole fit under his crotch, between his legs, and on top of the pole was a huge black cock dildo. "Maybe this will teach you how to keep a cock inside that pussy of yours faggot." Coach said as he lubed the cock head and aimed it up against his asshole. Joey began to whine through his gag, begging the coach to please stop. "You make any noise and I will get a larger dildo faggot." The dildo already looked huge to the boy and as thick as his wrist. The head had a slight pink glow and looked like it was wet and slippery. The coach placed the cockhead at Joey's pussy opening and wedged it into his hole. "UghhhHhhhhh" Joey groaned. "I guess you want a bigger one faggot?" Coach asked him sarcastically. Joey just shook his head NO. "Lets get this inside you now." The cockhead disappeared inside Joey's cunt hole. "There you go little faggot." Coach said as he stepped back and looked at the boy. Joey struggled to remain still as he balanced on the blocks, with just the cockhead stretching his sphincter open. "You be a good little fag or I will kick out those blocks your standing on. No moving or that dick will go right up into your stomach." Just then, there was a knock at the door and two huge men walked in, one black and one arab man. Both men were older and very hairy and serious bodybuilders. "Is this the muscle fag you told us about Mike?", one man said. "That black dick shoved up inside his ass looks just like mine." They walked up to the boy and pulled on his nipple chain, making the boy wince. "No, this one is mine." Coach said. "OK, where's our date then?" the Arab guy asks. "Frankie, where the hell are you?" Coach Mike yells. "Coach," Frank yells back, "I am having a tough time with these shoes Sir." Frank wobbles into the room wearing black sheer nylons with black high heels. Joey's eyes bulge out as he sees his father in a sheer bra and panties covered by a short pleated skirt and bolero jacket. "There's my girl." Coach says. "These nice gentlemen are straight and need a date to get them into the club. You see girls, and their escorts, get to go inside for free. I had to find them a pretty girl, like you, Frank." The two men started to feel Franks hairy ass. The sheer panties made his ass look so sexy. "Be a good girl for the men, Frankie," Coach said, "and did you put the pretty pink cage on that clitty of yours?" the coach reached down and felt the chastity cage on Frank's dick under the pink panties. "Good girl. We don't want you making a mess of yourself tonight so you'll be keeping all that nasty homo cum inside your balls." Frank groaned. "Now, if I hear anything bad, you will be punished." Coach slapped Frank across the face, "Do you understand?" "Please Coach," Frank begged, "please don't make me go with them Sir." Coach slapped him harder across the face. "Shut up girl, and don't answer back." Coach said, "You agreed to obey me... besides, these men paid a good price for your holes tonight. You will let them use you and thank them after." Coach turned to the big bodybuilders. "Bring him back in the morning and don't worry about hurting him. He's a tough bitch." The coach handed them a bag. "Here are the toys I told you about." Coach said, "Use them, and don't be afraid to bring your buddies too. They will have fun." "Oh Coach, Sir, please no. Don't make me go with them." Frank pleaded as they dragged him out, squeezing his ass as they walked. Coach turned back to Joey. He walked up to him glaring back at him, and kicked a block out from under each foot. Joey dropped down deeper onto the dildo as he tried to find his balance again. He had to lift himself up on the ropes until he could find a block to stand on. "Ugh" Joey groaned as he struggled to find the blocks. As soon as he settled onto the lower blocks, the coach kick out another set of blocks. At the same time, he lowered the ropes so Joey had a harder time lifting himself up to find the new set of blocks. He was sweating now. Joey could smell his own stink. "You smell like a pig faggot." Coach said, "That stink is exactly what some of our sponsors want. You will not shower for a few days and I want you in the same cute pink g-string all day tomorrow. We have a new client meeting tomorrow night and I want you to smell nice and pretty for our new sponsor." The coach spontaneously kicked out the last two blocks and Joey could barely get his toes to touch the floor. He increased the weights on his nipples. Joey couldn't hold himself up by the ropes any longer. He was exhausted and dropped himself onto the huge black dildo, completely buried into his pussy. Joey's legs were spread wide open with chains around his ankles. His arms tied above his head with a huge black dildo shoved 8inches inside his rectum. His nipples were attached with weighted chains and he was gagged to remain quiet. Joey started to cry. Joey was so exhausted with sweat dripping off his nose. There was nothing he could do but sob as he stared at his coach. The coach than did something that he never did before. He actually leaned up and kissed the boy on his gagged mouth. Joey couldn't kiss back because of the gag but he moaned into Coach's mouth. Coach Mike reached for Joey's chastity cage and removed it. He played with Joey's cock and began to masturbate the boy. Joey was in heaven. As abusive as the coach was to Joey, he loved him. In fact, they loved each other. It was obvious now. No one was around. They were alone. Even though he was hanging from ropes, he felt no pain. In fact, he felt the opposite. Joey felt loved. As though he read the boys mind, the Coach whispered into Joey's ear. "Yes boy," he whispered, "you're such a good boy. I love my boy Joey." Joey wanted to scream on the inside. Hanging from the ropes, nipples clamped, a huge dildo inside of his ass and his mouth still gagged. Joey wanted to scream love.... Scream how he felt love at this very moment. Joey always loved his coach but was afraid to acknowledge those feelings. He was afraid that he would show weakness by being vulnerable. He knew at that moment that he was in love with this man. The man who was his trainer, his master. The man who was, at times, cruel to him by demoralizing and humiliating him. Joey realized at that this man truly cared about him. The coach took off the boy's gag. Joey didn't say one word. While he was still hanging from the ropes, with the dildo stuffed inside his boy cunt, Joey closed his eyes and stretched his neck to kiss the coach. Coach allowed Joey to stretch to meet his lips. "You want to show me how thankful you are boy?" Coach smiled at him. "You want to kiss me little boy?" Joey finally stretched far enough to reach Coach's lips and savor the moment that has never happened before. The coach opened his mouth and spit into Joey's mouth, then kissed the boy. His coach truly cared about him. Had feelings for him. They both knew, at that moment, that there was love between them. The bond between them was now created and would last a lifetime. --- THE END --- This is the final chapter. I have already began writing a new story that takes place in prison. A straight white boy is framed for drug possession and is put in jail with mostly black men. Please find my other stories and take note of my NEW EMAIL: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com It is similar to my old email but am using MY YAHOO now. READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. Other stories: Becoming the Executive Assistant My Uncles Farm Trained by my Step Dad The Coach's Assistant The Military Recruit Becoming the Team Coxswain My StepDad Knows Best (Gay and Bisexual) Trucker's Boy My stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I will always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Please email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I will answer ALL emails. Thanks guys.

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Date: Sat, 28 Dec 2002 13:15:50 +1100 From: Phil Eden Subject: The Cop who wanted me By Hornblower He was an impressive sight-six foot two of uniformed arrogance with his leather jacket open to the waist revealing a starched blue shirt stretched across a broad chest and rippled stomach, and tight blue motorcycle trousers hugging his muscular thighs. I reckoned he was about 24, but he could have been younger. Whatever his age, he was definitely all man. He was studying the traffic in the main street, eyes watchful behind dark glasses, standing with his legs astride and his arms folded in front of him. He looked bloody good, and he knew it. I run a backpackers' hostel in the old lighthouse keepers' cottage at Rawson's Promontory about thirty kilometres out of town near the South Australian border. The guys on highway patrol often drop by for a coffee when they're passing so I know most of the local cops, but this one was new in town. I nodded to him as I walked past but he made no response and it was impossible to tell if he had noticed me. He sure as hell was a hot looking guy-an Adonis in uniform, and I couldn't get the picture of him out of my mind as I headed my old Ford utility onto the highway for the long drive home. I was about ten kilometres down the highway when I realised that he was following me. The white highway patrol bike was instantly recognisable in the rear mirror and instinctively I checked my speed, though I was comfortably within the limit. He stayed behind me for about five kilometres, making no attempt to close the distance between us, and I continued to drive warily with one eye on the speedometer. The road crosses the railway at a little place called Warrambul and I slowed, touching the brakes, to check there were no trains coming before accelerating across the tracks. As I did so I saw the red and blue lamps on his bike start to flash and heard the wail of the siren. Within moments he was alongside the ute, waving me over to the side of the road. He parked the bike in front of me, taking his time. As he removed his helmet long strands of straight blond hair fell forward across his forehead and he flicked them back into place with the arrogance of a stallion shaking its mane. He walked slowly towards me, and I wondered what I had done to cause him to pull me over. I wound down the window as he approached. He bent forward so that his face was level with mine. Close to he was even more handsome than I had thought with smooth, nicely tanned skin and high cheekbones. His eyes were a light blue and he had full, rather sensuous lips. "Good afternoon, Sir." "Good afternoon, Officer." "May I see your driver's licence?" He was impeccably polite. I removed the licence from my wallet and handed it to him. He took it from me and then stood close up against my open window while he straightened to read it. His crotch was now level with my face, and I was treated to a magnificent view of his huge genitals just inches away, so clearly defined that I was certain he couldn't be wearing anything beneath the tight stretched fabric of his trousers. All too quickly he bent down again bringing his face back level with mine, still holding my licence. "Thank you, Sir. Are you aware that your nearside brake light isn't working?" "Isn't it? I'm sorry. I didn't realise." "You should get it fixed." "I will," I promised. "It's going in for a service next week. I'll get it done then." "Good, in that case I needn't take matters any further." He handed me back the licence and as he did so it sounded as if he added, "and I want to fuck you." I was so flustered the licence slipped out of my hand and fell at his feet. Had he really said what I thought he had? "Did you say...?" I let the words trail off. I must have been mistaken. "I said I won't forget you, Sir. You have been most co-operative." He reached down and picked up the licence. "A nice spot, Rawson's Promontory," he said glancing at my address as he handed it to me, though I had a feeling that he had already noted it. "Yes," I said. "Feel free to drop in for coffee. Your colleagues do sometimes when they're on patrol down my way." I'm usually pretty busy in summer because the hostel is near the beginning of a hiking track and I get a lot of bushwalkers come through, but it's different in the off-season when there aren't so many tourists around, and it's good to have someone to chat with "Not for me, thank you all the same. Not coffee. It's bad for you." "Well, maybe something else." He raised one blond eyebrow, and allowed himself the slightest of smiles. "Yes," he said. "Maybe something else." I watched as he walked back to the bike, my eyes fixed on the movement of his muscular buttocks, splendid in the tight, constraining blue fabric of his uniform trousers. Had he really said he wanted to fuck me? My cock was hard at the thought of it and it stayed that way until I got home. I found it difficult to get him out of my mind after that. I made a couple of trips to the supermarket in town and looked out hopefully in the main street but there was no sign of him and each time I returned home disappointed. I kept thinking of what he had said, trying to decide if I had misheard him. At thirty I'm still in good shape and my pretty boy looks haven't yet deserted me, but why would he want to fuck me when probably he had every bitch in town lusting for him? He was a strapping, fair-haired macho cop and he looked very, very straight, but I make no secret about being gay and sometimes that's a turn-on for the so-called straight boys. They say it pays to advertise, and if he did want to fuck me he wouldn't be the first supposedly straight guy I'd had slip it in the back way when his mates weren't around to know about it. I began to fantasise about him pulling me over to the side of the road. He would make me get out so that he could strip search me then when I was naked and defenceless he would whisper that he wanted to fuck me and he would force me over the saddle of his police motorbike and shove his enormous cock into me. That got me hard thinking about it, I can tell you, and he had me jacking off two or three times a day. It was about a month later that a storm closed the main highway down past the Promontory. The black clouds began rolling in around four o'clock and within an hour the full brunt of it hit, first the lightning strikes so close that there was barely a second's grace before the deafening thunderclaps that followed, and then the sheeting rain driven by a wind that came howling in from the ocean like a thousand wailing banshees. During the height of the storm the power went off and I lit candles. I've got an old wood stove in the kitchen which meant that at least I would be able to cook a meal, and thankfully it was late in the season so there were no guests staying. About seven o'clock I thought I heard a motorbike and then, after a minute or two, what sounded like the roller door of my garage being opened and closed but it was difficult to be sure over the noise of the storm. A loud rap at the door let me know that I had a visitor. I took a torch and went to see who it was. My motorcycle policeman was standing on the veranda dripping water, his drenched uniform clinging to him in the most interesting places. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I've put the bike in your garage out of the storm." "Of course not," I said. "Come in." He followed me into the house. "We had better get you out of those wet things." I showed him the bathroom and went to get some more candles. By the time I returned he had stripped down to the briefest of G-strings. His leather jacket, gun holster and belt were hanging from the coat hook behind the door and the rest of his uniform was in a damp pile on the floor. He was an awesome sight as the candlelight played on his sculpted body and I could see that his cock, clearly outlined in the bulging wet G-string, was every bit as huge as I had thought it was when he had stood up close against the window of my ute the first time I met him. "Well," he said. "We meet again." "You remembered me then," I said rather lamely. "Of course. Didn't I say that I wouldn't forget you?" He smirked. "Or did you think I said that I wanted to fuck you?" "Well, yes..." "And I suppose you've been thinking about me ever since?" As he spoke, he rubbed his hand across his cock, causing it to stir beneath the thin fabric. "I bet you've been thinking about me thrusting my big cock right up you." "Well..." "Of course you have. I bet you've been having wet dreams about me ever since I said I wanted to fuck you. Most gay guys want me to fuck them. " God, he was arrogant, but he was also fucking gorgeous and right at that moment I wanted him to arse fuck me more than anything I had ever wanted before. "I need a shower. Do you have hot water?" I nodded. "Yes, the power's been off for a while but the tank will still be hot. Make yourself at home." "Thank you," he said. "It looks like I'm here for the night. There's a tree across the road at Warrambul and it would be too dangerous to ride the bike in this weather anyway. We'll just have to keep ourselves amused until the storm clears." Again he ran his hand meaningfully over his cock, then slipped the G-string down, letting it bounce free. It really was huge-probably a good seven inches on the slack and thick around like a salami. He tossed the G-string on the pile with his damp uniform. "You can put that lot through the dryer for me." "There's no power," I reminded him. "I'll hang it by the kitchen stove." "Do you like my body?" He was preening in the candlelight, flexing his big pecs and biceps, then turning for me to admire his back and tight-clenched buttocks. His thighs were huge, like massive hams, covered with curls of wiry blond hair that grew more profusely towards his crotch and his ample pubic bush, and his balls were heavy and low hung, in proportion with his massive uncut rod. I reached out a hand, running it admiringly down the smoothness of his broad back and feeling the firmness of his buttocks. "I'll let you give me a massage if you like. See if you've got some oil." It was a command, and I resented slightly the way he was taking charge in my own home but I went obediently to the cupboard where I keep a large bottle of Johnson's baby oil with my other sex toys. He spotted a couple of butt plugs and picked up the larger of them, which he handed to me. "Put this in. You'll need to be well stretched when I fuck you--I'm very big." Again, it was a command and again I obeyed, finding a tube of lubricant to smear on the plug, a wicked-looking eight-incher with a circumference to match. I slipped off my clothes and inserted it into my hole. The first part was easy enough but the last few inches or so were deceptively wide and I wasn't relaxed enough. I started to pull it out again but he grabbed my hand and held it there. "It has to go right in," he said. I clenched my teeth as he forced the wide part of the plug past my sphincter but once it was in it wasn't so bad and as usual I began to enjoy the sensation of having it inside me. "I'm going to have my shower now," he said. "You can get on with what you were doing." With the plug still in me I went back to the kitchen where I set up a drying rack for his uniform next to the stove. The damp trousers had retained his body odour and I buried my face in the crotch, revelling in his man smell. I wanted to try them on, but I was afraid that he might come back and catch me. Not that they would have fitted me. They were stretched to fit his huge legs--just as I was being stretched to fit his huge cock. I heard the shower water go off and a few minutes later he came wandering into the kitchen, totally naked except for a bath towel draped across his shoulders. "That feels better," he said. "You get sweaty on the bike all day. With big balls like mine it can be pretty uncomfortable. It's good to get the uniform off and let them hang." As far as I was concerned he looked pretty good in the uniform or out of it and I was almost drooling at the naked display of his big, beefy body. He went over to the refrigerator and helped himself to a carton of orange juice. "Do you mind?" "No. There's a beer there if you would rather." "No thanks. I don't touch alcohol." "Do you mind if I have one?" What effect was this man having on me that I was asking his permission to drink a can of beer in my own home? I took a can from the refrigerator and flipped the ring pull. "Cheers!" "Cheers." He raised his carton of orange juice then came and stood close to me, looking down into my face. "You're going to be my whore tonight." The words sent a tremor through me. He had been taking command from the moment he walked in the door and now he had casually reduced me to the status of his slut. I felt a tingling of anticipation in my lower abdomen that I hadn't felt since I was a teenager new to the joys of sex. If this hunk of a man wanted a whore, then I would be his whore and I would let him to do to me whatever he wanted. With one hand he grabbed my hair, forcing my head back, then kissed me hard on the lips, forcing his tongue into my mouth. With his other hand he grabbed my butt, massaging it roughly, and pulling me up close against him. "How many men have fucked you, whore?" I shrugged. "I don't know, quite a few. Who's counting?" He brought his big hand down and smacked me hard on the buttocks. "Wrong answer, whore. Try again. How many men have fucked you?" "Shit, I don't know. Maybe a hundred." He smacked me harder and it really hurt. "Wrong." "What do you want me to say?" Another hard smack. "How many?" "I told you. Maybe a hundred, maybe more. I've fucked around a bit." This time he delivered ten hard blows in quick succession. "I'll tell you how many men have fucked you, whore." He continued to smack me, the blows raining down hard and fast until my arse was on fire. "The answer is none. Zero. You've never been fucked by a man. Not a real man. Tonight's going to be your first one." He pushed me away from him contemptuously. "Now go and get ready. You'll need towels on the bed for the massage and plenty of lube for when I fuck you. And you'd better give yourself an enema--I expect my whore to be clean." Once everything was prepared to his satisfaction he lay face down on the bed, head cradled on his folded arms, his magnificent body stretched out and ready for my ministrations. I poured a liberal amount of baby oil onto his back and starting with his shoulders, began a slow and sensuous massage. From his shoulders I worked down his broad back then moved to his calves and began to work my way back up his body towards his thighs. I could feel him relax as my fingers worked the tension out of his muscles. Just to touch him was exciting and my cock was rock hard. Outside, the storm was still raging but inside, in the flickering light of the candles, the scene was one of total sensuality as I continued to rub my hands up and down his hairy thighs, working closer and closer to his gorgeous butt. He moved his legs apart, opening up his crack to reveal his hole and I responded by burying my face in it, rimming him frantically and causing him to writhe beneath me. He was making small moans of pleasure as my tongue probed into him while my hands continued to pummel the two firm mounds of his arse. He was pushing down hard forcing open his sphincter, sucking my tongue right into him so that I was licking deep inside him seeking his sensitive prostate gland and sending tremors through his whole body. He began moaning more loudly, his big muscular body trembling uncontrollably, and I knew that now he was mine. I was his whore and he had dominated me in my own home, but his ultimate pleasure would be mine to command. He was mine to be led slowly through each mounting stage of ecstasy until that moment of climax when I alone would permit his release. I withdrew my tongue and for perhaps half an hour or more I worked the inside of his thighs, playing with the twirls of wiry hair and working slowly towards his massive balls finally touching them so delicately with the tip of my tongue that, like the kiss of a butterfly, it was barely a touch at all--yet sensuous enough to reduce him in an instant from a domineering stud to a quivering jellyfish. I rolled him over onto his back and he lay there passively, his massive cock hard and throbbing with rampant desire. It was huge--at least nine or ten inches long but with a thicker shaft than anything I had ever seen before. As I said, I've been fucked by a hundred men, but this was truly awesome, a genuine prince among cocks and well worthy of the magnificent body to which it was attached. I ran my hand up and down its splendid length getting the measure of it. "Are you ready to fuck me?" I whispered and he grabbed at me eagerly but I was teasing, and I pushed him away. "Not yet," I said. "We've waited all these weeks. A little bit longer isn't going to hurt." Now I went to work on his nipples, running my tongue lightly around the perimeter of each. They were big and brown against his broad chest, the nipples firm and erect, and I teased them until he pleaded with me to stop. I let my tongue work downwards to his navel and then on into his wondrous pubic bush until at last I came to his pulsating cock. Starting at the base I licked slowly up the shaft to the glans, tonguing the sensitive rim with the merest of butterfly touches then working back down to his balls. I did this a hundred times until the tensing of his body told me that he was almost at the point of climax but I held him there, one hand on his massive balls the other on his cock. "I'm going to come!" he yelled but I pulled away from him, squeezing his balls hard at the same time so that he screamed in agony. "Not yet," I said. "You're not ready." I had brought him almost to the brink but not quite, now I had to bring him down again until it was time. I let go of his balls and he relaxed slightly but I left my hand between his legs to remind him that I was in control. He knew now that my hand could cause him agony as easily as it could the ecstasy of a butterfly's touch. I laid down against him, my face close to his, brushing my lips against his, giving him a caressing kiss on the cheek, then bringing my mouth to his ear I began to nibble the lobe. He grabbed me tightly, pulling me to him, returning my kisses in a frenzy of passion. But even as my mouth caressed him my hand held tightly to his balls, slowly increasing the pressure so that his body tensed and he writhed and groaned in my embrace. He was stronger than me and he could easily have stopped me, but I sensed that he wanted it, that he was enjoying a new dimension to his lovemaking that he hadn't experienced before. I squeezed harder and he brought our mouths together, thrusting his tongue into me, grunting now with animal lust as pain and pleasure merged and his body became a crucible of conflicting emotions. I pulled away from him. "How many men have you fucked?" I whispered. "A few." I squeezed his balls harder. "How many?" "I don't know. I said a few. Quite a few, maybe." Again I squeezed harder and he screamed, his body doubling up with pain. He grabbed at my hand, trying to pull it away from his balls but I was relentless. My grip was like a vice. "How many real men?" "NONE!" "Who will be the first?" "You will!" I released the pressure on his balls. We were equals now. "Let's fuck," I whispered and I moved into position on top and facing him, knees either side of his hips, lowering my arse onto his cock, opening myself up to take it inside of me. God it was huge but I've had giant cocks up me before and it was just a matter of taking it slowly, letting the tight muscle of the sphincter stretch itself to the dimensions of the massive intruder. Inch by inch I worked myself down onto him until I had taken it all and I was sitting astride him with mu buttocks resting on his thighs. He had his eyes closed and a look of total rapture on his face as he abandoned himself to pleasure. Slowly I lifted myself back up his length until there was just an inch or so of him still inside me, then lowered myself more rapidly onto him, starting to develop a rhythm that would dictate the tempo of our lovemaking. He responded by grabbing my waist and thrusting upwards with his powerful hips so that our bodies were working in unison. He was actually using his enormous strength to lift me and then forcing me down again to meet the upward lunges of his pelvis. It was an incredible performance all the more so as we began to intensify our action and his cock began ramming into me like a piston. The contortions of his face told me that his climax was close and I knew that my own was equally near. We came together with one last mighty thrust of his cock that sent us both over the brink. I could feel his cock spasm deep inside me as his balls released jet after jet of semen while my own jism came in great creamy spurts that landed on his chest and abdomen. I began to lift myself off him, expecting his cock to go soft before it popped out, but he held me firmly around the waist not allowing me to move. "We haven't finished," he said. He was taking control again. With his cock still hard inside me he made me swivel round to face away from him then pushed me forward, rolling with me so that he was on top. With barely even a pause to get his breath back from our earlier exertions he began to fuck me doggy style, using all the strength of his hips and his muscular buttocks to pound his cock into me almost brutally, holding me firmly at the waist and pulling me onto him with each upward thrust. He fucked hard and relentlessly and even for a guy with all my experience it wasn't too easy to take. I was moaning like a teenager getting it for the first time, and he loved it. "What's the matter whore, can't you take a real man?" "I can take anything you can give," I grunted and he laughed, ramming it into me even harder. It was a rough fuck, but I didn't want it to end. "Yeah FUCK ME!" I shouted. "Give me that cock." I don't know how long we went--I lost all track of time. The world around us had ceased to exist. There was just this relentless piston of rock hard flesh pounding into me. The two of us were one, and our only sensation was the ultimate gratification of our lust. Again, miraculously, we climaxed together and it was as of every other climax I'd ever had was but a practice for this one. We flopped together on the bed and he cradled me in his big arms, hugging me tightly. When I woke up the storm was long gone and the sun was high in the sky. He was still holding me, his great strong body cuddled up against me. A shaft of sunlight, filtered by the window blind, was falling across his face and his straw blond hair, making him look more like a little boy than a big, tough cop. I ran my fingers through his hair and he stirred. He opened his eyes slowly, taking stock of his surroundings, then a broad smile creased his face. "That was the best," he said. "Let's fuck all morning." He was a cop and I was his whore. How could I possibly say no? Copyright Hornblower 2002

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Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2002 23:46:45 EST From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Cody's Conquest - Chapter 3 Cody's Conquest Chapter 3 by Percxyz@aol.com Cody followed Jeremy into his bedroom. He had been in the room dozens of times before, and plenty of times when both of them were undressed. But those times had always been before or after showers following football games or work outs. This time was definitely different. Cody had left his shorts undone, his hard cock bouncing in front of him. Jeremy remained completely naked, his own hard cock betraying his desire for more action. Cody looked around the room. It was spacious, with its own bathroom attached. The bed was king sized and more than one night he had passed out in it next to his buddy. Cody walked over to the bed and climbed on it, arranging the pillows against the headboard. He kicked off his shoes and slid his shorts off before turning around and laying with his back propped up against the pillows. Cody's hard cock slapped up against the ridges of his abs as he made himself comfortable on Jeremy's bed. He looked up at his friend. Jeremy stood to the right side of the bed, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other as he watched his friend settle onto the bed. Cody let his eyes travel up and down his buddy's body. He had never really looked at another guy in a sexual way before, but after the time spent with his cock down Jeremy's throat, he had started to acquire a different perspective. Jeremy was well muscled, his body tight and taut, with veins standing out in his forearms and the muscles of his chest and abs well defined. Cody had been present during most of the grueling hours that Jeremy had spent working his body, toning it. He had spotted for his friend when they used free weights and Jeremy had done the same for him. Now, all that work, all that effort had turned his buddy into a muscled stud who was his to use however he saw fit. Cody decided he liked what he saw and liked even more that Jeremy's body and mind were his new toys. Jeremy stood looking at his friend stretched out on his back on his own bed. His cock throbbed, ready for stimulation. He saw Cody's cock was still rock hard, even though he had sucked Cody's balls dry, or at least so he thought. He hadn't counted on the sexual energy of a horny teenage male in his sexual prime. "Climb up on the bed, between my legs, boy," Cody ordered. He spread his legs to make room for Jeremy as he obeyed. Jeremy found himself on his hands and knees, head just a few inches above Cody's crotch. He looked closely at the thick tube of throbbing cock that lay up along Cody's abs and the big ball sack which hung down. A shiny spot glistened on the head of Cody's prick. He was already leaking precum. Unconsciously, Jeremy licked his lips. Cody, watching his friend's face, saw this and laughed. He reached down with his right hand and grabbed the base of his cock. He aimed it towards Jeremy's mouth and watched with satisfaction as Jeremy's tongue snaked out of his mouth and lapped up the drop of precum. Cody felt his body twitch from the feeling of Jeremy's tongue sliding across the head of his cock. He reached out with his left hand, placed in on the back of Jeremy's head and began to push downward. Jeremy's mouth opened to take him without any protest. Cody gripped Jeremy's hair and pulled his buddy's head back up the length of his cock then pushed down again. After establishing a nice, slow, up and down rhythm, he released Jeremy's head and the base of his cock and put his hands behind his head. He looked down and watched his macho buddy eat his dick. It was an incredible sight. Jeremy was propped on his hands and knees with his mouth stuffed with Cody's cock. The muscles in Jeremy's back tensed and flexed as he bobbed his head up and down. Cody watched Jeremy's biceps flexing with the movement as he held himself up to take the dick down his throat. Cody was proud of his own body, the muscles in his chest, his tight abs and the curves of his muscles under his skin. Seeing his buddy's head impaled on his cock was a total turn on. He looked at Jeremy and could see that his cock was hard too. It bobbed between his legs as Jeremy worked his head up and down. He saw Jeremy's hand slide to his cock and begin to store it in time with the suck job he was giving Cody. Cody let his friend work his meat for a few more minutes, then grabbed Jeremy's head between both his hands. Holding it tightly, he turned them both to his left. He kept his cock in Jeremy's hot mouth as he rolled on top of him. Knees straddling Jeremy's chest, Cody put one hand on the headboard to stabilize himself and began to drive his cock into Jeremy's mouth. He liked this better taking the active role and putting it to his friend as rough as he wanted. He looked down and saw Jeremy looking up at him with a strange look in his eyes. It took Cody a moment to realize what it was a look of submission, desire and lust. The sight made him even hornier and Cody began to drive his cock into Jeremy's face with more and more force. This was heaven, he thought, as he brutally fucked Jeremy's mouth. None of his girls even really liked to suck him and none of them would ever let him fuck their mouths like he was doing to Jeremy. A feeling of dominance and power surged through him and he began to thrust even harder and deeper into his buddy's mouth. He felt his chest expand with pleasure and power as he drove his cock into his buddy's mouth. He felt the head of his cock butting up against the entrance to Jeremy's throat and decided that his new cocksucker was gonna take it all. He pushed forward, ignoring the gurgling, choking sounds coming from Jeremy and felt the head of his cock stretch the opening to Jeremy's throat. Jeremy made more choking sounds and tried to push him away, but after that, he easily sank the rest of his thick cock into Jeremy's face. Jeremy had liked the way that Cody rolled him onto his back and began face fucking him. The feel of the hot cock sliding in and out of his mouth and Cody's hand on his forehead had his whole body tingling. Being underneath his dominant buddy, taking his thrusting cock in his mouth, had his cock hard as steel. He ran his hands along Cody's thighs, feeling the muscles tensing and relaxing as Cody mouth-fucked him. Jeremy looked up and saw Cody's eyes staring down at him, a smirk on his buddy's face as he used Jeremy's mouth to get off. He let his hands drop down and explore the mounds of muscle in Cody's calves. The short hairs of his buddy's legs were actually a turn on to him, another reminder of the masculinity of the stud fucking his face. Cody's cock hit the entrance to his throat. Jeremy felt it push against it several times, then Cody began to force his way in. Jeremy felt his throat stretching around the thick head of Cody's cock, making him gag. It was too much and Jeremy tried to stop Cody, tried to push him away, but he had no leverage. His buddy was on top of him, in his mouth and he could do nothing but take it. Cody just ignored this feeble attempt at resistance and drove his cock deeper. As his air was cut off, Jeremy thought again tried to push his friend away, but knew it was hopeless. Cody had his weight on his side and Jeremy was at his mercy. Strangely, this made Jeremy even hotter and he let his right hand slide to his cock. Cody had closed his eyes while he fucked hard into Jeremy's throat. "Fuck yeah, Jer. You got the fucking best mouth! I love the way you take my cock. You like being my cocksucker, boy? We both know you do. You slut. Eat my dick! Fuck yeah. Take it faggot. Take my big fat prick and I'll give you a nice tasty reward here soon. Ohhhhh, fuck YES!" The last was timed with a brutal thrust into Jeremy's throat. Jeremy began stroking his meat, his arm across Cody's calf. He was hard as a rock and throbbing. Just squeezing his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He began a slow up and down stroke on his cock, speeding up slowly to time his strokes of his cock with Cody's thrusting hips. Cody felt the movement of Jeremy's forearm against his leg and laughed. "Look at you. What a fag. Beating your meat while I plug your mouth on your own goddamned bed!" Cody chuckled again. "I can't believe how much you get off on me making you suck my cock, boy. If I'd've know you were such a cock slut, I'd have shoved my dick down your throat years ago! Go ahead and beat your meat, boy. That's the only way you're gonna cum when the two of us are together. That's the way it should be. Me fucking your mouth and you beating off like a worthless faggot while I do it." The talk was too much for Jeremy. Moaning around the cock filling his mouth and throat, he began to cum. His whole body twitched underneath the dominant stud filling his mouth and he blasted spurt after spurt of hot cum onto his belly and chest as Cody just kept fucking his mouth. Jeremy's orgasm brought him back to reality, his sexual high dissipating, but still Cody kept fucking. He had no choice but to take his friend's thrusting cock and let Cody use his mouth however he wanted. Soon, he felt Cody's thrusts coming faster and heard his buddy moan deeply. Jeremy was spent, but Cody's cock rammed into him again and again Having already shot his load, Jeremy didn't want to swallow his friend's cum, but knew he would have no choice. He felt himself blushing as Cody used his mouth like a pussy, but resigned himself to his role. Watching Jeremy get his nut while his cock was buried in his mouth was enough to bring Cody over the edge. He tried to hold back, to make this blow job last, but his whole body was into the fucking. He was dripping sweat and he felt the muscles in his body tensing. He knew that he couldn't hold out any longer. "Oh fuck! Here it comes Jer. I'm gonna shoot my fucking load down your throat again! Oh fuck yeah. I wanna see you drink every drop. Oh fuck yeah! Take it slut! Eat my fucking cum!" Cody's body shook and his cock throbbed. He rammed it deep into Jeremy's throat and let loose. He heard Jeremy choking again as he shot his cum into his throat, but he didn't care. He knew that Jeremy was enjoying this as much as he was. Cody's body tensed with the explosion. He felt each spurt as it traveled up and out of his cock and into his buddy's mouth. Jeremy's tongue was still lapping at his cock and Cody reveled in the feeling. He knew he owned the jock boy underneath him and contentedly pumped the boy full of his cum. Finally, Cody was spent. He slowly pulled his hips back, letting his cock, covered with Jeremy's spit slide from his buddy's mouth. He looked down at Jeremy with a wicked smirk on his face. Jeremy looked up at him, embarrassed at what he had just done but with the taste of Cody's cock, sweat and cum filling his mouth. Cody moved to the side, settling onto the bed beside him. Jeremy watched as his friend looked over at him and saw him take in the splattered cum on his chest and abs. "Looks like you've got a mess to clean up, boyo," Cody said and nodded towards Jeremy's body. Jeremy reached for a tissue from the bedside table, but Cody stopped him. "Not like that you stupid faggot. Wipe it up with your fingers and then lick them clean." Cody looked at him with an expression that told Jeremy he plainly expected to be obeyed. Jeremy considered refusing, but when he looked at his handsome jock buddy, he knew he would do as told. Blushing furiously, he reached down and began to scoop up his cum, licking it from his hand. Cody watched intently as his did so, an evil grin on his face. Finally Cody had cleaned up his cum. "So, Jeremy, how do you like eating your own load?" Jeremy blushed even more. "I can tell that you did. Your hard cock is a dead giveaway. What a fucking slut you are. You're so into cum you will even lick up your own. And just think, I fucked your face and filled you with my cum in your own bed. You're gonna get in bed to go to sleep tonight and all you'll think about is me on top of you, fucking your mouth like it was some chick's pussy." Cody lay back against the pillows again and Jeremy watched his chest expand as he caught his breath. He couldn't believe that after all that had happened his cock was still hard. He also noticed that Cody's cock was stiff too. Suddenly Cody looked at him. "Get dressed," he ordered and climbed off the bed. Confused, Jeremy watched as Cody pulled on his shorts, then he climbed off the bed to obey Cody's command. He quickly threw on a shirt and a pair of shorts, then followed Cody silently down the stairs. When Cody made for the front door, Jeremy grabbed his keys and locked the house behind him. They got into Cody's mustang and drove off. Jeremy quickly realized that they were headed towards Cody's house. A few minutes later, they pulled into Cody's garage and Jeremy heard the door shutting behind them. "My parents won't be back until late. So I figure we can have some fun here." "What was wrong with my place?" Jeremy asked. As embarrassed as he was, he managed to finish his thought. "You seemed to be having no trouble there." "Yeah, but then I thought about you sucking me in your bed. I want you to remember me cumming in your mouth in your bed tonight, but I want to fuck you in my bed. So get your ass up to my room. You know they way." Jeremy took a long look at his friend. Cody still wore no shirt. His biceps were flexed and his pecs and abs all stood out. The word "fuck" ran through his head, but looking at his partially naked buddy overruled his rational mind. He wanted to make Cody cum again. He was nervous, though. He had firsthand, intimate knowledge about how big Cody's cock was and couldn't see how he could ever get fucked by it, but when Cody's gaze suddenly turned stern, he moved down the hall and began to climb the stairs. He went to Cody's room and let himself inside. As usual, Cody's bedroom was a mess, with clothes strewn across the back of his desk chair and in a pile in one corner, but the bed was made. Nervously, Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Cody hadn't followed him upstairs and he wondered what his friend was doing. He adjusted his cock in his shorts. It was so hard it was painful. As he did so, the door swung open and Cody stepped inside. The top button of his shorts was open and Jeremy could see his dark pubes. Though he had never thought in a million years that the sight of another guy's pubes could get him hot, he felt his cock throb at the sight. Cody strutted into the room, there was no other word to describe it. He had a cocky air of superiority about him which was evident in the way he walked. As Jeremy thought about it he knew Cody had every reason to feel superior. He had outright told Jeremy that he was going to fuck him and all Jeremy had done was meekly go upstairs to where Cody wanted to do it. He hadn't protested or even tried to talk Cody out of it. He had simply accepted Cody's decision in the same way he had accepted Cody's cock and cum in his mouth earlier. Cody gave him a look of contempt. "What the fuck are you still doing in your clothes, cocksucker? Strip. Now!" Jeremy peeled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and dropped his shorts. Cody stood with his arms crossed, watching as Jeremy stripped for him. Jeremy felt his whole body flush with embarrassment, but was helpless to stop himself from obeying. He saw a grin break out on Cody's face as the last of his clothes fell to the floor. Screwing up his courage, he stood upright and faced his friend. Cody stood there, his arms still crossed over his chest, and inspected Jeremy closely. "You take orders well, boy," he began. Jeremy didn't like being called "boy" but it was better than some of the other names Cody had used. "You'd never think a guy like you would be a cocksucker just from looking at you, but I guess we know better. All those times I spotted for you in the weight room, were you looking up my shorts? Trying to get a view of the cock you wanted? I bet you were, cocksucker. How many other dudes have you been checking out in the gym or at school? I bet you've been wanting to get in the pants of the entire baseball team." Both of them played baseball, one of the main reasons they had spent hours working on their upper bodies. Cody saw the shocked look on Jeremy's face and smiled to himself. He knew there was a card to play there if Jeremy didn't do everything he said. Cody slowly shucked off his shorts, watching Jeremy's face as he did so. He saw that his buddy's eyes never left his crotch as it came into view. Shit, the faggot was hot for his cock. Well, Cody planned to give it to him again, in ways that Jeremy had never imagined. He kicked the shorts across the floor and stepped over to Jeremy. Standing in front of him, they were almost the same height. Jeremy's cock was at full mast and Cody saw Jeremy's hands clenching. It was obvious the guy wanted to touch something. Cody knew from the look on Jeremy's face and the way his eyes traveled over his body that Jeremy wanted to touch him, not jack his own pathetic cock. He decided to play with that. "So, Jer. Here we are. Both buck naked and your pussyboy cock already hard, just from looking at me. My cock is still soft, faggot. I don't get hard at the sight of another dude's body. But I want you to get me hard. Like I said, I'm gonna fuck you. I want you to show me how much you want me to do it by getting my dick hard." He watched as Jeremy tentatively reached out and gently took his cock in his hand. The touch felt good, especially when Jeremy began to stroke him. It was a helluva lot better than jerking himself off. Cody stood, hands on his hips and let Jeremy work his cock until it was completely hard, then he stepped back, pulling his cock out of Jeremy's hand. "So, boy, you want my cock. We both know that. I think you better get it lubed up with some spit, don't you?" Cody watched with satisfaction as Jeremy slid off the bed onto his knees. He thought Jeremy looked his best on his knees with his own hard cock bouncing between his legs. He watched as Jeremy leaned forward, opening his mouth as he did so. Jeremy caught Cody's cockhead between his lips and Cody let out a moan of pleasure as he felt Jeremy's tongue lapping up his precum. He reached down, grabbed Jeremy's head between his hands and pulled it forward. He watched his biceps flex as he pulled and felt his cock sliding deeper into his cocksucker's mouth. ************************* Author's Note: Thanks for all email encouraging me to continue. For all those who prefer my other stories, I am working on them, but need to write other things. Any comments are appreciated.

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Date: Thu, 29 Aug 2002 19:49:42 -0700 From: kinkygay stories Subject: Tristin's Whipping CATEGORY: Authoritarian and High School "What's on TV?" Ryan asked as he plopped in the recliner clasping his hands behind his head. Wearing only a royal blue speedo, the 16-year-old was quite a sight to behold with his deep copper tan and hairless chest. The boy's armpits were another story, however, with small bushes of dark brown hair matching his shoulder-length wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. "I dunno. Hey, who said you could have the good chair?" Tristin replied as he squeezed in next to Ryan, the chair being plenty wide enough to comfortably accommodate both boys' slender waists. Tristan was also 16, but slightly younger than Ryan. Tristan was also wearing only a speedo, for the boys had just been swimming on this hot and humid day, but his was bright red. Like Ryan, Tristan had a hairless chest, but unlike Ryan, he had almost no hair in his armpits, his tan was more of a lighter honey color, and he had slightly shorter blond hair and blue eyes. Remote in hand, Tristan flipped through the movie channels until a scene grabbed his attention. There on the screen a blond teenage boy was tied shirtless between two posts with his arms stretched in opposite directions. The boy had a look of fear and apprehension on his face and behind him could be seen another teenage boy holding a small whip with many leather straps. With each lash of the whip and each whimper from the boy on the TV, Ryan could feel Tristan flinch and could see Tristan's erection growing in size, the tip eventually poking out the the red speedo's waistband. Next to Ryan was a fish aquarium on a large end table and on the table was a length of 1/4-inch clear plastic air tubing. Slowly, with a mischievous grin growing from the corners of his mouth, Ryan picked up the tubing, waited for just the right moment, and ... whipped Tristan's stomach in sync with the whipping of the boy on TV. Tristan was shocked at first but didn't try to stop Ryan or protect his bare stomach. Quite the contrary, the younger boy, being almost horizontal in the recliner, extended his arms out beyond his head as Ryan continued to apply stinging lashes to Tristin's quivering belly, the younger boy's erection now rock hard and jutting well out of his skimpy bikini speedo. Once the scene was over, Ryan took the remote, turned off the TV, and looked up at the overhead rafters there in the family room. Tristin left his arms in place as he gazed down at the many pinkish-red welts criss-crossing his still quivering stomach. "Wow!" he thought to himself--he almost came right there on the spot! Ane Tristan knew exactly what his older friend was thinking. Rope? Yes, it was in the garage. Belt's, extension cords, wooden spoons, ping pong paddles? Yes, they could be located with little fuss. And Tristin, wearing only his red bikini speedo, and that probably not for much longer, knew exactly what was to unfold next. If you like me to continue this story, let me know. Thanks.

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Nifty Archive: tristins-whipping [ Nifty Archive : Gay Male | Bisexual | Lesbian | Trans ] Chronological Directory Listing for tristins-whipping

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Date: Sat, 14 Sep 2002 04:03:18 -0700 From: kinkygay stories Subject: Tristin's Whipping, Part Two Tristin felt a chill run up and down his spine as the cooler air of the garage wrapped around his nearly naked body. While Ryan was scavenging the house for various whipping instruments, Tristan spotted some soft thick nylon rope that would be just right. Soon the boys met back in the living room with their finds. Ryan had only brought one item--an extension cord with each end cut off. "Ouch," thought Tristin as his fingertips graced across his smooth chest and stomach. But the younger of the two 16-year-old boys didn't say anything. His only response at the sight of the extension cord was the growing tent of his red bikini speedo. With a smile at the corners of his mouth, Ryan approached Tristin and took the younger boy's hands, felt their silky smoothness, and caressed all up and down the younger boy's long sinuous arms. Ryan pulled Tristin close and gingerly worked the waistband of Tristin's speedo down just a bit. With one hand, Ryan picked up a dish towel and wrapped it around one of Tristin's wrists and after securing it with duct tape did the same with Tristin's other wrist. "Stand on the ottoman," came the order and Tristin instantly obeyed his new master. Beads of sweat could now be seen trickling down Tristin's slender frame as he took position. Cutting the rope into two sections, Ryan tied loops around each of Tristin's dishtoweled wrists and threw the opposite ends over rafters some ten feet apart. Then, as Tristin stood very still on the ottoman, Ryan tightened the two sections of rope and tied them off leaving Tristin standing on his tippy toes with his arms stretched out in the ten o'clock and two o'clock positions. Slowly, very slowly, Ryan scooted the ottoman out from under Tristin, enjoying the dance Tristin was performing in the process as the younger boy tried to maintain his balance. Finally, Tristin simply swung back and forth as the ottoman was pushed out of the way. Tristin's toes stabbed at the floor, but were unable to touch. The dishtowels were doing their job, so the rope didn't hurt Tristin's wrists. "Perfect," Ryan thought to himself as he approached his prize from the front. Tristan's nipples were almost as high as Ryan's mouth and Ryan traced the tip of his tongue across Tristin's bare chest, nibbling and sucking on each nipple until it was protruding out rock hard, licking each hairless armpit as if it were a lollipop. Tristin's head fell back as he took delight in this sensual ecstasy, his erection now popping out of his low-slung speedo. Licking around to Tristin's back, Ryan further worked his fingers into the waistband of Tristin's speedo and pushed it on down until it dropped to the floor. "What a sight," Ryan thought as he admired the nice contrast between Tristin's white butt and honey tan. Taking each of Tristin's ankles, Ryan spread Tristin's legs out in the eight o'clock and four o'clock positions and tied them off with the remainder of the rope. Now Tristin hung like a big X, completely naked. Tristan's eyes grew wide as Ryan picked up the two-conductor extension cord and began pulling it apart down the middle until he had two single-stranded lengths, each about three feet long and only about 2 mm thick. Ryan thought about doubling them over and tying them together at the middle so that he could whip Tristin with a sort of cat-of-four-tails, but no. Ryan wanted to lengthen the time of the session, so he decided to coil up one strand of the extension cord around his hand, leaving about 15 to 18 inches dangling. As Ryan circled round and round his now quivering prize, trying to decided just where to apply the first stinging lash, he savored the sight of the beautiful boy before him, so willing to be whipped, so willing to submit and obey. Tristin's erection was jutting straight out rock hard as his chest heaved with each breath, anticipating that first SWOOSH, that first SLAP. Ryan took position and raised the single strand of the extension cord. TO BE CONTINUED

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Date: Tue, 31 Jul 2001 13:09:42 EDT From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Cody's Conquest Cody's Conquest By Percxyz@aol.com Jeremy set the phone down and leaned back against the couch. He was glad that Cody had called. He had been worried that what happened the night before last might have fucked up their friendship, but Cody was on his way over to visit. Jeremy thought that was a good sign. He had figured that Cody would never want to see him again and not hearing from him yesterday had seemed to confirm that. It was all because Jeremy had simply done what his buddy wanted! It had been kind of strange, but they had both been drinking and were both horny. Hell, at nineteen they were always horny. But this had been different. Cody had been telling him about his latest girlfriend, Beth, and had started to throw some wood in his shorts. Jeremy had kind of been staring into space, thinking about Beth's tits and his buddy's hard-on when he saw Cody begin to rub his crotch. When that happened, Jeremy's own dick got rock hard. Cody saw it. "Does seeing me with a hardon get you stiff, Jeremy?" Cody turned to face him, spreading his feet apart where he stood, causing his shorts to tighten and outline his stiff cock even more. Jeremy had not known what to say. As he fumbled with word, Cody continued. "Yeah, I can see that it does. Well hell, dude, if that gets you going, why don't you come over here for a closer look." Cody had pointed to the floor in front of him. "Come on, Jeremy, do what I tell you." Cody let a tone of command slide into his voice. Cody had been initially surprised at his friend's reaction. Hell, they had been naked together enough times in the showers and locker rooms with no reaction that he had never suspected Jeremy might get off on his body. Now he could see differently. Cody knew that he was always the one who made the decisions and was the leader when they were together. He had talked Jeremy into plenty of things he hadn't wanted to do over the last dozen years, from shoplifting some candy to spray painting a sign at school. Over the last four or five years, as they had developed more and more physically, Cody had taken charge more often and in more ways. They were roughly equal in height and weight, but Jeremy had always deferred to him and even better, obeyed him. Cody knew he was horny enough tonight to use that advantage over his buddy for some release. Cody watched with satisfaction as Jeremy rose to his feet and moved towards where he was pointing. He could feel his cock throbbing in his shorts. Jeremy stopped about a foot away from him and stood there, his own cock obviously rock hard. "If you're gonna get a better look, you need to get your eyes on the right level." Cody glanced down at the floor then back up to Jeremy's blue eyes. He saw in Jeremy's eyes the moment that the guy accepted the suggestion and Cody grinned as his buddy sank to his knees in front of him. He watched as Jeremy adjusted himself on the floor, his face now level with his Cody's crotch. Jeremy had been surprised at Cody's request. Get closer to his cock for a better look? That was crazy. But then Cody's voice had changed and the tone was suddenly in it. The tone he had never been able to resist. The tone that seemed to sap his will and replace it with Cody's. He found himself obeying Cody as he had done so often in the past, letting his friend take charge. He stood and looked at his buddy. Cody was wearing a tight t-shirt which showed off the chest he had built over the last few years. He and Jeremy had spent hours and hours in the weight room to get their bodies in shape and it had paid off. Jeremy took a step closer and looked down. Cody wore a pair of tennis shoes, no socks, and his khaki shorts were straining to keep his cock confined. Another two steps brought him to where Cody pointed, or so he thought. When Cody suggested he get on his knees, Jeremy knew in the back of his mind where this was going, if he didn't resist. But then he looked up at Cody's face, handsome, with dusty blond hair framing his green eyes, and felt something in him respond, like it always had done. He sank to his knees, willing to do what Cody wanted, again. He looked up at Cody, who was staring down at him with a grin on his face. His arms were at his sides and Jeremy let his eyes drop down along his friend's body again. Jeremy saw the veins standing out his Cody's forearms, watched his left hand clench. Jeremy's face was only inches from Cody's crotch and he could smell his friend. It was a hot musky smell that made Jeremy's head spin. He had always worshiped Cody, and been willing to follow his lead in all things, even things against his better judgment. Something about the way Cody acted or said things, maybe, got a response from Jeremy. He wasn't sure exactly what it was about his friend that caused him to obey and follow Cody's lead. Now he was letting Cody lead him further than he had ever imagined. Cody looked down at Jeremy. He liked seeing his muscular friend on his knees in front of him. This was going better than he expected. He tried to exert a little more control to see how Jeremy would react. "Go on. Get my cock out of my shorts. How else are you going to see it?" He waited to see if Jeremy would obey. If he did, Cody would have accomplished the next step, getting Jeremy to touch his cock. It only took Jeremy a few seconds to process the order and his hands seemed to move without his control. He reached up and pulled Cody's shirt out of his shorts where it had been tucked into the waist band. As it came free, the front hanging from Cody's developed pecs, Jeremy lifted it and got a close view of Cody's abs. Cody had spent as much time on them as he had on his chest. Jeremy saw a small line of dark hairs which ran down from Cody's navel and disappeared into his shorts. Jeremy had never noticed that before and he felt his cock throb again. He grabbed the button before he could change his mind, popped in open and slid down the zipper. He let go and Cody's shorts fell to his knees. Cody's wide stance stopped them from dropping further. Cody watched with increasing lust as his buddy pulled out his shirt and undid the fly of his shorts. When they dropped down his legs, Cody reached down, grabbed the bottom of his t- shirt and pulled the front of it up and over his head. He let it catch on the back of his neck leaving his chest and abs exposed. Cody was proud of his body and grinned wider when he heard Jeremy suck in a breath in surprise. Now he was bare from neck to waist. He watched as Jeremy slowly reached up with one hand and grabbed the waistband of his jockeys. Jeremy pulled them down, taking another surprised breath when Cody's cock sprung up into his face. He had a nice thick eight inch piece of meat, which meant only about four inches separated Jeremy's face and the head of Cody's cock. "Go ahead, Jeremy. Grab it. You can jack me off. You know, lend a buddy a hand. Go on, do it." Jeremy didn't have to be asked again. The sight of Cody's bare chest and abs and his rock hard cock just inches from his face had Jeremy excited beyond words. With his right hand, he grabbed Cody's cock and squeezed it gently. It felt hot and steely hard, but still soft and smooth. He was surprised because it didn't feel like his own cock at all, which was the only cock he had ever touched before. He heard Cody moan a little as he squeezed and looked up at him again. He felt his cock throbbing in his shorts as he took in the sight of his buddy's muscular body towering over him. Cody's whole body felt on fire when Jeremy grabbed his cock. Jeremy squeezed and Cody moaned involuntarily. God it felt good! He had gotten handjobs, among other things, from his girlfriends before and knew he wanted more than that, much more. He knew that Jeremy would do it too. All he had to do was order him to do it. He let Jeremy slowly stroke his cock for a few more seconds, closing his eyes with pleasure for a moment. When he opened them, he looked down to see his buddy on his knees, the muscles in Jeremy's right arm flexing as he stroked his cock. Then when Jeremy looked up at him again, Cody told him what to do. "Go on Jeremy. Suck my cock. Suck me." Jeremy didn't believe his ears, even though he knew in the back of his mind that this was where this whole scene had been leading. He had known from the second he dropped to his knees in front of Cody. Even as he thought this, he was leaning forward, letting his mouth drop open. The head of Cody's cock was only an inch from his mouth now and the smell of Cody's crotch brought Jeremy's head forward the last inch. As the head of his cock slid between Jeremy's lips, Cody reached out and grabbed Jeremy's head between his hands. He pulled it towards him as he thrust his hips forward. He felt the most wonderful moist heat envelope his cock as it slid over Jeremy's tongue. Cody watched, fascinated, as his cock disappeared into his kneeling buddy's mouth. He felt power running through him. He had made Jeremy into his cocksucker. Fuck this felt so good! Cody's hands held Jeremy's head in place as his hips drove his cock deeper into Jeremy's throat. He had always wanted to do this to a chick, just fuck one's face, and planned to enjoy it. When Jeremy's lips made contact with Cody's cockhead, a vision of what he must look like, on his knees with his face in the crotch of a half naked guy, flashed into Jeremy's mind. He tried to stop what was happening. But as the head slipped between his lips, Cody's hands clamped onto his head, holding him tightly in place. He felt Cody's thick cock spread his lips wider and wider and the shaft sliding into his mouth. The head slid across his tongue leaving a salty trail before it hit the roof of Jeremy's mouth, but Cody just kept forcing more in. Jeremy felt the head, which seemed the size of an apple, lodge at the entrance to his throat. He thought Cody would stop there, but his friend just used more brute strength to ram his cock into his throat. Cody heard Jeremy gagging and choking, but didn't care. The guy was his cocksucker now. Jeremy's mouth was his to use. Not out of concern for Jeremy, but just to increase his pleasure, Cody pulled his cock back, emptying Jeremy's throat. Jeremy took a deep breath in relief, but Cody immediately rammed back in. Cody looked down at his buddy, now his cocksucker, and liked the view. His cock, covered with Jeremy's spit, reappeared as he pulled his hips back. Then Cody watched it slide into Jeremy's head as he thrust forward again. He grinned again and loosened his grip on Jeremy's head. Jeremy was slowly getting accustomed to the invading cock. He still choked and gagged, but it seemed a little easier to take Cody's manhood. He felt Cody's hands relax on his head and took the opportunity to tilt his head back. The sight above him drove all remaining resistance out of Jeremy's mind and his hand began to massage his own cock through his jeans. Cody stood above him, connected to him. The muscles in Cody's belly and chest all stood out, taut and tense, like during weight lifting. Jeremy could tell just by looking that Cody's nipples were hard. His buddy's face stared down at him, watching as he took the cock again and again. Jeremy popped the buttons of his 501's and pulled out his own cock. He began to stroke it quickly. Jeremy saw Cody's eyes flick downward, then come back to his own. Cody liked this even better. Jeremy was on his knees actually jacking off while he gave him head. Jeremy must really be into sucking his cock. Cody thought the sight of his buddy not only sucking him off, but beating his meat while he did it, was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Shit, he had put this boy on his knees, shoved his cock down his throat and all the dude did was start jacking off! The fucker loved it! "That's right, Jer. Beat off while I fuck your mouth. You're one hell of a cocksucker, boy. Feels great! You're a natural, buddy. Born to suck cock. To suck my cock! Fuck yeah, faggot. Eat my meat! Ahhh yeah. Work that tongue. Use it on the head when I pull back, cocksucker!" Cody paused in his pounding of Jeremy's face to let the guy lick at his cockhead. He knew he always leaked a lot of lube and it had to be pouring into Jeremy's mouth. Fuck it, he decided, the guy was a cocksucker and that what they get. Jeremy had listened to Cody calling him a cocksucker. He didn't like it, but there was no way to protest. Then when Cody told him to use his tongue and he readily obeyed, he decided not to worry about it. He actually liked hearing Cody enjoying himself, just as he had always liked making Cody happy. Jeremy enjoyed hearing him getting pleasure and knowing he was providing it. He increased the speed of his hand on his cock. Cody's balls were no longer slapping against his chin and he knew that meant Cody was about to cum. Cody was panting now. He looked down, watching his cock slide in and out of Jeremy's mouth and felt himself getting close to cumming. Jeremy's face, framed by his brown hair which was always cut very short, looked a lot different than usual. His buddy lips were stretched and his cheeks were red from effort. Cody wanted to cum in Jeremy's mouth. There was no doubt about that. The fact that Jeremy might not like it crossed his mind, but he ignored it. Hell the dude was on his knees sucking like a Hoover! He had to expect to get a mouthful of cum. The thought made Cody feel disgusted a bit so he pushed it away and concentrated on the feelings in his dick. He was almost there. When Cody came, only the head of his cock was in Jeremy's mouth, but Cody rammed forward, sinking back in deep. Jeremy felt cum coat his tongue and tasted the salty fluid. Several more spurts followed in rapid succession, the cum beginning to fill his mouth. Not knowing what else to do, Jeremy swallowed. Cody, his head thrown back and moaning in ecstasy, didn't see this. After three more weaker spurts, Cody was finished. He looked down at Jeremy and slowly pulled his cock out of his mouth. He figured that Jeremy would get up and run to the sink immediately, but the dude just looked at him, hand still moving on his own hard dick. After a few seconds, Cody realized what had happened. "You fucking swallowed that shit?" he yelled. Jeremy's hand stopped moving on his cock. Jeremy was confused. "That is fucking gross, man. You swallowed my fucking sperm! I knew you'd take it in the mouth, but to actually drink that shit?" A look of disgust crossed Cody's handsome face. "Just get out of here. Thinking about that makes me feel sick." Jeremy's cock had softened in the face of Cody's disgust and he forced it into his jeans. Cody was pulling up his shorts as Jeremy struggled to his feet. He looked at Cody again, but Cody didn't look at him. With the taste of the stud's cum lingering in his mouth, Jeremy had left and gone home. He had laid on his bed and jerked off. It had been the best orgasm of his life, but he wished he had still been at Cody's feet when he came. Now Jeremy got up, nervously adjusted his hard cock in his shorts and went to make sure the door was unlocked for Cody. ************ Author's Note: If you would like this story to continue, drop me a line. Any comments are appreciated.

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Date: Tue, 01 Oct 2002 03:29:43 -0700 From: kinkygay stories Subject: Tristin's Whipping, Part 3 As Tristan hung naked like a huge "X" from the rafters above, Ryan circled his prey like a lion on the prowl, his single strand of extension cord held firmly in his right hand. Tristan truly was a gorgeous sight, his rock hard erection pointing straight out and oozing with precum, his smooth slender stomach made even more so by his puffed out hairless chest, his nearly hairless armpits now glistening from the fish aquarium light--now the only light in the room. No doubt Ryan would spend much time licking and soothing Tristan's lash marks afterwards. Ryan raised the cord high in the air and lashed it around Tristin's torso, the tip stinging Tristin's back, Tristin's head falling back as he let out a loud sensuous moan. Next, Ryan wrapped the lash around Tristin's right thigh and then his left thigh, not to hard, but not too soft either, causing the finest of pink welts for form across Tristin's bare skin. Then Ryan criss-crossed some lash marks across Tristin's heaving chest, striking his nipples a few times and making them protrude out even farther, each time the tip of the cord stinging one of Tristin's armpits. Ryan thoroughly enjoyed watching Tristan's body jerk at the sting of each lash, Tristin's erection bobbing up and down as if it had a mind of its own. Circling around to Tristin's back, Ryan laid a few more lashes across the boy's very smooth tight butt, taking special care to aim the cord just right in order to create a mark just where Ryan wanted it. Tristin bowed his head in submission and gazed at the floor through half-closed eyes as Ryan laid lash after lash across his bare back and shoulders. Ryan loved they way Tristin flinched and whimpered each time. Tristin was in total ecstasy, Precum almost dripping from the tip of his very stiff boner. It's not so much that each lash hurt that much--of course they stung a bit, but the anticipation was driving Tristin wild. He even closed his eyes so as not to be able to brace himself against each lash. He really wanted to submit 100%. Finally it was over and Tristin's beautiful body shimmered with sweat. Ryan counted almost 50 lash marks. None were very hard and all would fade away in a few hours. Tristin hung limply, his erection slightly limp as well, with his head back, half-open eyes gazing blankly up at the cathedral ceiling. His penis sprang again to life as Ryan's stomach pressed against it, the older boy's lips now kissing Tristan's beautifully smooth teenage boy chest. His tongue not far behind, Ryan began licking each one of the lash marks, spending considerable time in Tristin's armpits, eventually giving the younger boy hickeys in each! After being released from his bonds, Tristin feigned semi-consciousness as Ryan carried him over to the recliner and snuggled in beside him. Neither boy thinking of watching TV, they affirmed their love for each other with a long and very sensuous kissing session, which of course climaxed with their mutual ejaculations. For the rest of the night, the boys lay there in the recliner, sleeping for the most part, enveloped in each other's arms. I tired writing my first science fiction short story--"Two Centuries Hence." Check it out and let me know what you think. Thanks again for your encouraging comments.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch.9 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 9 By MaineBoyXY@yahoo.com The drive home was nerve wracking. Every time I came to a stop light, my face burned because I was certain that the occupants of the other cars could see me and the drying cum covering my face and smeared into my hair. I kept my eyes straight on the road in front of me and never looked to either side. The only thing I could think about was passing one of my friends or someone who knew me, having them look over, and see the signs that I had become a gay slut. When I arrived home and pulled into the driveway, I felt all the muscles that had been tense with worry begin to ebb and relax. I was safe. The cage around my cock signaled a clear change in the relationship between Ryan and me, and he took no time in making it clear. I called him the first thing the next morning. I'd woken up hard, or at least as hard as the device allowed me to get -- my cock would lengthen and thicken to the extent permitted by the plastic bars down the length of the curved cage and those which closed off the end at the terminal ring. As my cock grew inside, the pain became insufferable, the sensitive head of my cock poking into the cruel, unyielding bars. He answered the phone on the second or third ring, and when I begged him for release, he laughed scornfully. "Sorry fucktoy, things have changed. Now I'll know whether you try to rub one out against orders, because the only way you can is to break the cage off. That means I no longer feel the need to be lenient on you, to let you come over when you feel horny so that you can get release without breaking my rules. To let you come over so that in a fit of lust, you don't cut yourself off from my cock. You need my cock, don't you, Alex? In your mouth? In your ass?" "Yes," I muttered in acquiescence. "Yes, what, bitch?!" "Yes Sir!" I shouted militaristically, like a recruit in basic training. "You don't call me anymore, fucktoy. When I want you to get me off, when I've decided that you've been restrained long enough to earn my cum on your tongue or in your cunt, I'll call you. Then, if you've been a good boy, I'll pop that cage open for you. You can get your cock all nice and hard without that plastic biting into your skin. You're hard now, aren't you?" I confirmed that I was. "It hurts, doesn't it?" I told him that it did. "Just think," he continued, torturing me as my lust only grew, "you can wrap your lips around my cock. Maybe your ass lips, maybe the lips on that cock sucking mouth. And your cock will be free to pulse and throb. To jut out from your body into the air. You want that, don't you?" "Yes Sir, please, how long..." I began to whimper. "When I decide it's time, bitch," he cut me off. "And maybe, if you get me off really well, maybe I'll even let you cum before I slam that cage back around your cock and lock it into place." That thought ricocheted around my brain. Now, he might use me and not even let me get off! And with this chastity device, he could do it! "But don't despair, Alex. You know you can get that thing off anytime you want. I think that a pair of pliers, your jock strength, and some determination could easily break those plastic rings. Or break that mini-padlock. You can make that decision anytime you want. But you know the consequences, right? Tell me what happens if you break free." "I'll never get your cock again, Sir." "That's right. But that's not all. If you ever call me, if you ever look at me longingly in the hall at school, if you ever make any sign that you want my cock again, your DVD goes into publication. I might email an .mpeg to everyone at school. Or mail them a copy. And your parents. Or, maybe it finds its way into the DVD tower in the media lab, and one day, all the monitors throughout the school flash up with Alex Cheswick, soccer captain, big man on campus, sucking cock and begging to have his pussy fucked. Think about that," he mocked. He let the minutes slip by in silence, knowing the thoughts in my head. He had the computer skill to do any of what he said, and more. I could feel my body blushing, from head to toe, as I thought of my friends, my teammates, even the faculty. Even kids I didn't know, but who knew me because of my popularity. "Alex?" he asked, finally. "Sir?" I answered by reflex. "Is your cock still hard, boy?" My mind turned from the nightmarish daydreams and zoomed back into the the present reality. My cock was still hard, I knew because it still hurt from the bars and rings that formed the cock cage. I told him so. He chuckled. "See, I think that some part of you, deep down in places you don't like to think about, wants everyone to know you're a dick licking, ball washing, cock riding faggot. Wants everyone to know you're my bitch. But I think we'll let that mature a little first. If everyone else knows, someone might want you for themselves. In fact, your jock buddies might just want you on your knees for them in the locker room showers, servicing each of their rods, sucking down their loads of spunk as they all watch and cheer each other on. Or maybe to bend you over the changing benches, forcing one sweaty, post-practice fuckstick after another into you, until your cunt overflows with their sperm and your hole is so red and sore it won't even close. Maybe that's what you want." "No," I whispered. I realized I had goosebumps all over my skin and the tip of my cock was trying to pry through the unyielding plastic. "Please! Please don't tell anyone!" I had begged before, begged for his cock, begged to be allowed to cum, and I thought I knew desperation. But it was desperation from lust. This was desperation from fear. >From fear of being outed, of being ostracized, fear of being ridiculed and losing my position and respect? Or fear that what Ryan said was true? I didn't know and didn't care, I just knew I was scared, and I needed reassurance that my life as I knew it wasn't going to end -- despite how much it had changed behind closed doors. He must have sensed the genuine concern in my voice because his tone mellowed. "Don't worry, Alex. Like I said, I'm not going to tell anyone. Just remember over the coming days, whenever you feel like you can't stand it and you have to rip that thing off, that will be it. If you make that decision, if you act hastily out of lust, the first thing in the back of your brain as the afterglow from your orgasm ebbs is going to be, `Oh, fuck! I've lost Ryan's cock forever!' And that's going to be followed by, `And if I even beg for forgiveness, offer to sell my soul for a second chance, I'm going to be exposed to everyone!' It'll be your call." And the click signaled that he'd hung up. I stood there in silence and set the phone down. I stared at it, and within seconds, it rang. I picked it up in a daze, but heard Ryan's voice. "Oh, and each time you call me in desperation between now and when I want you, you add a day to your wait. That was one." The phone went dead. I sat down on the desk. I already wanted his cock. I could feel nothingness in my ass, and I craved something to be there. I craved it like I craved release from the fucking rings around my cock. I sat on the desk and there was no warmth emanating from it, there was no shaft wedged between my lips, no head against my prostate or buried in my gut. I sat there and felt the breath on my shoulder that wasn't there. The hands on my hips that weren't there. I could smell the odor that wasn't there, the odor of his crotch smeared on my face the way it did after I'd rubbed his cock along my cheek while licking his nuts or sucking where his thigh met his groin. The texture of his cock head and veins of his shaft on my tongue wasn't there. I could taste the sweat, the salt, the musk, the cum, that weren't there. I was alone and abandoned. And each day that went by, I'd get more horny, and I'd want more desperately to cum. And each day that went by, I'd miss his cock more. I'd miss his control more. Some part of me already longed to hear his voice calling me names. "Boy," or "whore," or "slut," or "fucktoy," or "bitch." Or Alex. How long would he keep me from jerking off? How long would he deny me his cock? Which would be worse? I knew the answer as soon as I thought of the question: Denying me his cock was worse. I could jerk off whenever I wanted to, it just meant I'd never be with him again. How had this happened? How had I become a slave to cock? I thought about the feelings, the smells, the tastes of being used. Being fucked, mouth or ass. Every image was of Ryan. I could replace the image with other guys. At first it surprised me that I could picture my teammates naked and see their hard cocks in my head. And want them. But as I went through guys I knew at school in a mental slide show, undressing each, imagining the taste, feel, and smell of each package, something was missing. I felt lust -- only overwhelmed with lust as I was at that moment would I even have conceived of thinking of guys from school the way I was -- I felt undeniable lust for cock. But only when I though of Ryan did I feel something else. Completion. He owned me. I craved his control, his domination. I could suck anyone's cock, I could take anyone's cock in my ass, but I knew that there was something else I needed just as much. And I sat on my desk. That day passed and so did the next. Then it was Christmas Eve. I'd finished my shopping and wrapping. I'd hung out with my friends at the mall. The weight in my crotch from the chastity device was something I no longer noticed. I was still aware of it on a subconscious level, but other than when I went to the bathroom -- I had to sit to piss to make sure it didn't splatter on my pants -- or showered, it didn't interfere with my life. And then I'd get hard and have to suffer through the cramping restriction. The combination of the plastic cock ring that formed the base of the cage and the curved shape of the device itself made a bulge in my pants, especially khakis. I got around this by sort of tucking everything down into a jock strap when I needed to, which made the bulge less noticeable. When the phone rang, I leapt for it. When I heard Ryan's voice on the line, my cock jumped. "Hey, whore. Merry Christmas. I had planned to have you over tonight for some special eggnog, but you have to be penalized a day for calling me and begging for cock. How does that make you feel?" "Frustrated," I answered. He chuckled. "Been hard much?" he asked. I fought back the temptation to be a smartass. I was pretty sure that's what he was provoking, so he would have an excuse either to inflict some cruel new punishment on me tomorrow or to postpone my chance at relief. "Yes Sir." "Good. I'm feeling festive. What does your family do for Christmas?" "We open presents in the morning and then have dinner in the early afternoon." "Just you and your parents?" "My uncle's family, too. We alternate each year, and this year it's his turn to come here." "How cute," he replied. I thought about Ryan, alone in his big house, his parents off in Europe without him. I wondered what he'd done to pass the past few days. I wondered whether he'd spent much of the time planning something for me. My benefit? Probably not. I shoved the thought aside as he continued. "Here's the plan. I've sent you email, and you're going to download it and look at it all. Afterwards, you're going to reply describing in detail what you've seen and its effect on you. This is due by midnight tonight." It was about seven now. "Before you start, though, I want you to put on my collar. You'll wear it until you arrive here at my house twenty-four hours from now." "But what about my family?" I interrupted. "What do I tell them?" "Tell them you're my bitch. Tell them you wear that leather collar because you're a cock hungry faggot. Tell them you want to slurp my spunk down, and that's the only way you're going to get it." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "What the fuck do I care what you tell them? Improvise. Do I have to do all the thinking for you?" "No Sir," I mumbled. "You'll be here at least one night, maybe two but no more. If your parents are prone to worry, you might want to tell them that." I was trying to think of how to explain to them I was going out on Christmas night at all. Now I had to explain my absence overnight...and maybe longer. "Yes Sir," I answered, but the line was already dead. I replaced the phone in its cradle and looked at my computer. With growing trepidation, I sat down in front of it, logged onto my ISP, and opened my mailbox. There it was. Email, from an account with Ryan's initials followed by a series of numbers. There was an attachment, a large one. My cock was swelling in its cage, and I was tempted to open the message now to end the suspense, but I remembered my orders: I had to put on the leather collar first, and it was in the glove compartment of my car. I stood and wasted a futile minute hoping my cock would go down. I gave up and decided to make a break for it before the erection and its tell-tale bulge worsened. I darted down the steps and out through the kitchen back door, narrowly missing an encounter with my parents in the living room. I trembled as I unlocked my car in the frosty air. It was a reaction to the cold, against which I was pretty lightly dressed, and from my predicament. I popped open the glove compartment, reached in, and took out the object that signified my station in life. My cock throbbed as my fingers closed in on the smooth, cold leather. I shuddered from both the temperature and the tight plastic around my engorged dick as I closed a fist around the collar and rammed both hands into my jeans. I returned inside through the kitchen door, but this time I ran into my mom. "Alex, you should be wearing a coat if you're going outside," she scolded. I accepted her rebuke and quickly stepped around the island countertop, putting the structure between my rampant arousal and my unsuspecting mother. "Hey, Mom, a friend of mine is having a Christmas party tomorrow night. I know it's Christmas and Uncle Jack will be over, but I was wondering if I could go," I ventured cautiously. She frowned at me. "Alex, it's Christmas night, couldn't your friend have picked a better time for a party?" I faked a sly grin before turning my face to the floor. "Well, his parents are out of town, and this was a great opportunity for a party. And I mean, sure, it's Christmas night, but it's a Christmas party, after all." My mom was pretty cool, and we usually shared an honesty about my social life that won me a lot of latitude. Providing the shadier details of some of my plans had earned me permission to go out a number of times before, probably because she appreciated that I wasn't going behind her back. I kind of felt guilty using her trust against her this time, but the tactic worked. She contemplated for a few minutes. "Well, OK, Alex, as long as you're here through dinner. Just don't do anything to get arrested, eh?" I looked up at her and smiled, my sincere gratitude overwhelming the shame I felt inside. I turned and headed for the hall and the stairs, and as I made my way through the doorway I called back over my shoulder, "Thanks, Mom. By the way, I may plan to spend the night, just to play it safe," and I darted up the stairs before she could protest. Once in my room, I locked the door, something I never did because my parents never tried to come in unannounced. Nevertheless, I felt a sense of foreboding about this email, and I wanted to ensure my privacy. I took the collar out of my pocket and shakily fastened it around my neck. It felt strange, having been off for so long, and especially to be wearing it now, here in my own room in my own house. The leather quickly warmed around my neck, and I moved in front of my computer and sat down. I clicked the email message, and read the text that awaited me. "Alex Cheswick," the message began, "this is your mission, should you choose to accept it. First, I want you to strip. I want you to take off every article of clothing, except the collar that should be around your neck right now. When you're naked, I want you to stand in front of a mirror. It doesn't have to be full length, but it should at least cover from your mid chest to your head." I was lucky, I had a large mirror on the inside of my closet door. I quickly stood, shrugged off all my clothes, kicked off my shoes, and rolled my socks into the floor. "While you're naked and looking at yourself in the mirror," the message continued, "think about yourself. Look at my property. Think about the fact that you're owned. Reflect on the fact that, regardless of how this began, you are where you are right now because you wanted to be here. You begged me for my cock. You begged me to fuck you. You begged me to feed you my cum. Even when I cut you loose, you made the choice to come back to me. You are my slave because you wanted it. "I want you to stare at your body. As you take in the sight, remember that it is mine. Everything you see is mine. I want you to know that we both know that I control it. I control what you wear now; you're naked because I have ordered it. I control your involuntary biological functions; the pubic hair that's starting to grow back by now? It was shaved because I ordered it. And rest assured, that stubble will soon be gone as well. I control your sexual outlet. You will not receive release, your cum will not spew -- in fact, your cock cannot even grow fully erect -- unless I order it. "Now, go, do it," the message concluded. "And when you're ready, download the attachment." I stared at the text in front of me. Every word was true. I stood, walked unsteadily to the closet, and opened the door. I saw myself in the mirror. I saw everything above my navel. My skin was pale and the cold had risen goosebumps on my chest and forearms -- the cold or Ryan's words. My nipples were hard, and, on glancing down, I knew the cock cage was full, too. I slowly moved my eyes up over my torso. The email echoed in my head. My chest was smooth, as always, and I stopped to look at my nipples. The tender flesh was tightly clenched. My eyes travelled still upward, over my neck, where I wore Ryan's collar. I was mesmerized. Suddenly, my eyes locked on their own reflection. It was not a fantasy. It was not a nightmare. I stared into my own eyes and it felt as though my soul passed from my body into the reflected image and back. It felt as though the Alex on the real side of existence had flowed into the imaginary, and that, on returning to reality, some part had been left behind, replaced by something new. "You are my slave because you wanted it," Ryan had written. I stood there, dumbfounded. Frightened. Lustful. Enslaved. I stared for a long time, motionless, until I couldn't look into my own eyes anymore. I turned my face down, quickly taking in the reflection of my own pecs, biceps, abs, until my gaze rested on my feet. I was broken. My legs felt like lumber, senseless, dead, as I walked back to my chair and sat in it. I clicked the download button to save the attachment. I stared thoughtlessly as the file transfer finished, and then I opened the file. It was an image file. It was a montage of still images, presumably from the DVD Ryan had burned of our second night together. The night I had begged to be fucked. The night I had been shaved. The images were crystal clear, unmistakably showing my face and body in various emotional states, from reluctance to lust, from pain to pleasure. It showed the vile acts, a faceless man whose cock I sucked, who spewed cum into my gaping, eager mouth and onto my face. It showed the faceless man plunging his cock into my ass. The final image showed me as Ryan lied to me, telling me we were being broadcast to my friends. I was staring, horrified, directly into the lens. In subtly colored text at the bottom of this last image, there was a message. "And prepare for others to know what we know, too." Author's Note: Apologies to fans of my other stories, Student Orientation and Behind the Eight Ball, who want additional postings to those plot lines. Now that exams are over, as soon as I recover from the last semester and spend some quality time with my boyfriend, I'll post them, too. My FAQ and story index webpages are now off of AOL. If anyone knows of any free web hosts without pop-up ads, let me know and I'll move my webpages there. (I hate pop-up ads.) Thanks!

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch.13 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 13 By MaineBoyXY@yahoo.com (story list & FAQ site at maineboyxy.freewebsitehosting.com/index.html) I sobbed openly as I leaned against the wall. I could sense my life, as I knew it, coming to an end. Part of my mind leapt for scapegoats: that fucking Jason Martin and his fucking idea to cheat on the calculus exam; Ryan and his fucking sadism. Part of my mind was telling me to leave. I could leave; Ryan had given me that option. I could leave, but I could never come back. All I had to do was turn around, walk downstairs, put on my clothes that I'd hung in the coat closet, and leave. He had given me permission to leave, but I knew I wouldn't. It wasn't just cock. Hell, if Jason found out I was gay, the whole school would know by the end of break. I wouldn't need to stick with Ryan just to have secret access to cock, to suck and get fucked with no one else knowing. Everyone would know. My friends, my team, my parents, my teachers, even kids I didn't even know. There would be whispers in the hallway as I passed. "There goes Alex, he was the soccer captain but now he's a fag." Maybe worse than whispers. I shuddered at the thought as the tears flowed. Anyway, if everyone knew, there wasn't any point in trying to hide it. I could go be as slutty as I wanted, go to gay clubs, hook up from personal ads in the paper or the Internet. It wasn't cock that made me stay. It was Ryan. I wanted him. I didn't know why I wanted him. I liked the way he looked. I liked the way he controlled me, at least as long as it was private. He made me cum like I'd never cum before. And I knew why he was a jackass all the time, and I sympathized with him. No one should be alone like this, and I didn't want him to be. He didn't need to be. He had me if he wanted me. He just wouldn't accept it; he would never see me as a companion, a friend, a lover, a boyfriend. Only as a toy and a slave. Something to be played with and used. I'd lost my chance at anything else because I'd been too afraid, too disgusted, too ignorant of myself that first night we'd had sex. Anything I did now would be seen as a ploy, an attempt to manipulate him into leniency. And that made me cry more. I'd never have the chance to make him happy, only to obey. Eventually, I stopped weeping and stood, sniffling like a child, my nose in the corner. I could hear him eating slowly behind me, as he clicked around on his computer. Minutes passed. At last, he just turned in his chair towards me. "Alex, what the fuck are you doing still here?" I turned to him, wiping what moisture still glistened on my cheeks away with my hand. "You told me to wait in the corner." He stared at me. "You're going to fucking stay? You want to call Jason and suck me off in front of him?" "No," I answered. "But what choice do I have?" "You have the choice to get the fuck out of my house," he retorted. "And then what, sir?" I asked. He shook his head in disbelief. "And then it's over." I was dumbfounded. It was over. He was done. He had had no intention of outing me to Jason. He had been trying to push me away. He had expected me to turn and run, and now that I hadn't, he had no idea what to do. "But why?" I asked. "Alex, my parents are coming home tomorrow. I can't have some jock slave boy keep showing up naked on my doorstep begging me to feed him some cock." "But you did this to me! I was fine, I was a happily repressed straight boy, until you came along and fucked with me! Why did you pick me? Why did you make me come over here that night? Why did you make me suck you off and fuck me?" He looked at me intensely, then turned back to the computer. "Go home, Alex." I stood there, astonished. He was done. He didn't understand. He didn't understand that I didn't want it to be over. I walked over to where he sat at his desk and he looked up at me, that shade of fear creeping into his eyes. I leaned over, resting my arms on the back of the chair, my face inches from his. "You thought I was doing this because I needed cock. That was true, but it changed. You thought I made breakfast this morning, you thought what I said earlier, was all calculated to get out of something I didn't want. You were wrong. You were tired of playing the game, so you tried to scare me off. But you don't understand what's happened. You don't understand that you're responsible. "You know that I know that there's nothing for me to get out of now. You're not going to make me call Jason. You're not going to out me. So explain this." And I leaned in and kissed him. He sat motionless, frozen. I moved back and looked at his face. He was staring, almost terrified, back at me. It was exactly as it had been that first night, when he'd kissed me in the kitchen, but now the roles were reversed. I'd finally done it, I'd finally gotten ahead of him, and he had no plan and he had no idea what to do. I leaned in and kissed him again, and as I held my lips to his, I felt it when he broke. His lips parted and he brushed his tongue against my lips. I opened to let him in and his arms wrapped around my neck. I took my arms from the chair and pulled away. He was vulnerable. I could it in his eyes as they pleaded with me. I knew I could crush him if I turned away or if I laughed at him. But that's not what I wanted. Not anymore. Never again. I reached for his glasses and pulled them from behind his ears. I smiled faintly and then I kissed him again. I reached over for the desk and left his glasses there, then took his arms and pulled him up from the chair. His cock was fully erect and as I pulled him into me, it bumped into the plastic cage I wore. It startled him, and he pulled back and looked down. He looked back up at me, and then opened the desk drawer and plucked out the key to the padlock. He knelt, and I assumed subconsciously it was to see the lock without his glasses. After he opened the cage and dissembled it, freeing my own hard on, I was completely taken aback, flabbergasted, as his mouth closed around the head of my cock. I threw my head back and cried out as I felt him bury my shaft in his throat. Enraptured, I buried my fingers in his hair and held him there until I felt his hands on my hips, trying to push me back. Suddenly, I remembered. He was still the boss. I dropped my hands and as he slid off my cock, I looked down with concern. "I'm sorry, sir," I said apologetically as he stood. "No more sir, Alex," he said, as his mouth closed on mine. As we kissed, I wrapped my arms around him. I half carried, half drug him to the bed as his hands closed behind my neck. I pushed him backwards onto the bed and knelt between his splayed legs, bowing my head and devouring his dick. He moaned and reached for my hair, but I intercepted his wrists and pinned them to the mattress. I swallowed him whole, to the root, and held him there, gulping his knob with my throat muscles before I pulled back. I moved my head down to his sack and inhaled it into my mouth, washing it with my tongue, weighing each nut, sucking it, then releasing it. I licked my way up his shaft again, and swirled around the head. He called out my name again and again, and as his hips began to buck and roll under me, I rose. I climbed onto the bed, straddling him. He lifted his head to watch me, and opened his mouth, expecting my cock. He lifted a hand to reach for it, but I surprised him again as I reached behind me, gripped his rod, and began to sit on it. His eyes closed and his face contorted with pleasure as his head slipped inside me. I grimaced with the insertion, but slowly lowered myself onto him, until I sat on his pubes. He opened his eyes and looked down his torso, seeing the root of his cock embedded between my ass lips. He turned his face to me, mouth agape, and I recognized his need. I leaned over him, planting my palms beside his head, and kissed him again. He rocked his hips up against me, and I rocked mine back as we lay there, chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around my back and held me to him as we made love for the first time. The minutes wore on and time ceased to exist. At some point, one of his hands moved between us, clutching my cock tightly and sliding the skin up and down the shaft. The sensation, together with the friction of the shaft in my hole, the fullness of his cock inside me, and the pounding of his head against my prostate, overtook me. I clamped my ass down onto his fuckstick, and that sent him over the edge. As he unloaded in my ass, I sprayed my spunk between us, over his hand, onto my abs and chest. He released his grip as I came, and moved his slimey hand to my back, still holding me to him. As the tide of ecstasy washed over me and then ebbed, I pulled my mouth from his and, exhausted, rested my face on his shoulder. We lay limply like that, him still inside me, and I kissed the side of his neck. In those minutes, we had consummated the change in our relationship. And we knew that his control over me was greater now than it had ever been before.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch.12 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 12 By MaineBoyXY@yahoo.com (story list & FAQ site at maineboyxy.freewebsitehosting.com/index.html) I stood naked on the doorstep and rang the bell. I heard noisy footfalls clunking their way down a stairway within, and suddenly the door whipped open. Jason Martin stood there with a cruel sneer. "So Alex Cheswick's a fag? Well, get the fuck in here, bitch!" he ordered, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside. He unceremoniously shoved me and I sprawled into the floor just inside the door, which still gaped open, as I heard the sound of jeans being unfastened. His body covered mine in a flash, and I felt the iron poker of his cock as it rammed into my ass. I awoke with a start, my heart racing. I was drenched in cold sweat and covered in goosebumps. My cock throbbed in its prison. I stared up at the ceiling in the pale, eerie light of the pre-dawn morning. Ryan slept silently beside me in his bed. I fought myself to control my heartbeat and breathing, then rolled onto my side and took in Ryan's slumbering form. He was undisturbed. His blond hair was mussed from the pillow. Most people, according to the conventional wisdom, look tranquil as they sleep. Ryan looked melancholy. I slipped my hand out from under the eiderdown and brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead with the back of my fingers. I stroked his cheek lightly, feeling the slight stubble, but he stirred and I pulled away. He had untied me after I came, after I revealed Jason's name to him in a fit of lust. I had bargained Jason away for an orgasm. Ryan had walked me over the bathroom, telling me that tomorrow -- today now -- I was going to be calling Jason and asking him to meet me here, at Ryan's house. Ryan had then put me in the shower and had me wash the smears of cum -- what little hadn't been fed to me -- off my chest and face and out of my hair. I had pleaded with Ryan, asking to know what he had planned, reminding him how, ever since this journey had begun, he had promised me that no one would know about our relationship. His face showed no reaction as he countered with his Christmas Eve email to me, and my reply back to him. He reminded me that he had only said that he, Ryan, would not be telling anyone about us. I wasn't going to argue the semantics of the point, because the not-so-subtle message was clear. After he'd turned the water off, and I'd dried us, he took the cock cage from the shower stand where he'd placed it for my shaving and refastened it to the cock ring base. He had then taken me downstairs, he in his robe, I naked as always. He offered me supper, unlike the last night I'd spent with him, but I was sated with the cum I'd taken from him and the large Christmas meal my mother had made for my family. When I declined, he microwaved something, a plate from the freezer, and we'd gone into the formal dining room adjacent to the master chef's kitchen. He sat at the head of the long, richly varnished wood table, and ate quietly. I stood behind him to one side as he ate; he made no offer that I sit nor order that I kneel, and I felt awkward without knowing what to do. So I did nothing. "Can you wash that?" he had asked, as he'd led me back to the kitchen on finishing, handing to me the dirty plate and silverware. His attitude had changed since my orgasm. It was not that he was indecisive, because he acted with the same resolve of purpose, directed no doubt by some plan he'd schemed out at my expense, but he seemed sullen, distracted, and almost weary. As I'd washed his dishes, he'd padded off down the hall, and the noise of the television told me he had gone to the great room. Once I'd finished, I'd joined him there, and he'd pointed to the floor in front of the sofa where he lay. I sat and watched wordlessly as he channel surfed through the endless holiday specials. As each hour passed, I became more acutely aware of the solitude of his existence. Alone, on Christmas, except for his sex slave who sat on the carpet. I'd turned my head several times to look back over my shoulder at him. All I'd seen was the reflection of the television in his glasses, and then the flash as he changed to yet another channel. I'd wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to show him I felt sorry for him, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't feel sorry for him, it wasn't my place, and I couldn't touch him, either. Still, something inside me had felt his loneliness and wanted to do something about it. His parents obviously had a satellite system, because spending a minute on each channel took almost three hours. I'd gotten there at seven, as ordered, and with the hours of sex, showers, dinner, and television, it was after midnight when he had sighed, clicked off the television, and sat upright. "You can sleep here on the sofa," he'd offered. The last time I'd stayed overnight, I'd slept on his lap, his cock still in my ass after I'd impaled myself on him while he sat in his desk chair. It had obviously not been planned; it had happened because we had each been exhausted. "May I sleep with you, Sir?" I'd asked. He'd looked at me suspiciously and then gave in. "Bring your clothes in off this porch this time," he had ordered. "You can hang them up in the coat closet. Then come up." He'd ascended the stair slowly as I'd obeyed, retrieving my clothes and hanging them. I looked at the clock now. It was just seven o'clock. Twelve hours after I'd arrived. Gingerly, I slid out from the covers, wincing as the cold air hit my naked skin and my feet hit the floor. I stood and turned to make sure Ryan was still asleep. I shivered and stalked across to the bathroom. I craved clothing not for cover but for warmth, but I was certain I couldn't afford to put any on. I performed my morning ablutions quietly, and under the comforting rays of the heat lamp I serendipitously noticed over the vanity. I never shaved with an electric razor, but not wanting to root around in the bathroom cabinets or drawers, I retrieved the wet-dry razor from the shower stand. If it was good enough for my crotch and ass... While I shaved, I remembered what had happened on the last morning I'd awoken here. Ryan had ordered me to make breakfast and I'd fucked it up. I went back to the bedroom where Ryan still slept and stood in front of his computer. It was on. A touch of the mouse caused the monitor to flicker to life. I knew Ryan had to have either cable or DSL, so I double-clicked the Internet browser on his desktop. Predictably, the connection was live and I keyed a search engine, looking for recipes and cooking instructions. I wrote down what I wanted on a pad on his desk, and stealthily descended to the kitchen. He was still asleep when I returned, arms laden with a tray. I didn't know what he would want, so I'd made the omelet he'd asked for last time, egg whites with ham, tomato, and Muenster cheese. I had the toast, no butter, marmalade and grapefruit juice, too. And silverware. I'd also made French toast with cinnamon and powdered sugar. The kitchen was a mess, but I wanted to show off my feat before it got cold. I was damn proud of my second attempt at food services. "Ryan," I called out softly, and then paled at my error. He stirred but didn't wake. I set the tray on the desk, moved to the bed and shook him slightly. "Sir?" He groaned and stretched, and as his mind clicked into gear, he sat bolt upright in a start. "What?!" He looked around quickly, ascertaining that he was not in danger, and then tentatively retrieved his glasses from the wide headboard. "What is it?" he asked. "I made breakfast," I heralded, beaming. He looked at me, then over to his desk where I pointed. He saw the tray, neatly arranged with food. "Doing this shit isn't going to get you out of what's going to happen today, whore. Do you think I'm as stupid as you are?" His voice dripped. My mood vanished. I reacted angrily, for the first time in a long time. "You know, it's going to be fucking impossible for me to ever do anything to make you happy if you keep second guessing everything I do," I lashed out. "I don't think about what plans you've got worked out for me. I worry about them, sure, but I know I can't do fuck about them, that this is your show. You want to use me? Humiliate me? Fine. You can. Just because I didn't know what I wanted a week ago, and it pissed you off and maybe it hurt your feelings. You're so socially inept that you can't see that I've changed and that I'm trying to give you more now than you wanted then, and ... and..." My voice trailed off as I saw his face darken, literally and figuratively, as his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed and blood rushed to his cheeks. He took to his feet and stared me down icily. I was older than he was. I was taller than he was. I was stronger than he was. I could whip his ass, and we both knew it. And I cowered. "And what?" he dared. I stared at him, eyes wide. I had no idea what he was going to do. I knew that if he reacted physically, despite the disproportion between our builds, I'd take it. But that didn't scare me. What scared me is what he might do, either with the DVD, the pictures, or even if he ordered me to leave and never return. Timidly, I looked to the floor. "And what?" he repeated. "And you'd rather throw it away to fuck me over, and fuck yourself in the process, than to take it for what it's worth," I finished softly. Silence. I memorized the pattern of the hardwood floor as the seconds ticked away. An eternity passed, and the tension grew with each breath. And then his voice was calm, cool, and controlled, as if nothing had happened. "At nine o'clock this morning, as promised, you are calling Jason Martin. You are going to have him meet you here by ten. You will beg him, you will plead with him, but you will convince him. You will tell him that I know, and tell him that if he is not here, you're both screwed. When he gets here, you will be dressed in the clothes you arrived in last night. You will say nothing. You will let him in; you will take him to the great room. You will then kneel in front of me where I sit on the sofa, unzip my pants, take out my cock, and blow me in front of him. I will explain to him how I know; namely, that I caught you cheating, and that you told me it was his idea. I will give him the DVD. And then I will give him the option of staying while I fuck you, or leaving." Silence. My heart stopped. My body was numb. I was paralyzed. My eyes lost focus on the floor as they filled, and my shoulders heaved. The lump rose in my throat, and at first I thought I was going to throw up. "Alex?" Ryan asked. I barely raised my head as I lifted my eyes to him. "Or you leave now, and it's over. Your decision. But, if you're staying, you need to go stand in the corner until you've pulled yourself together." As he walked over to the desk and picked up a slice of French toast, the dam broke. I covered my face with my hands as I wept. Then I made my way to the corner.

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Date: Thu, 13 Sep 2001 18:24:19 EDT From: Savagetrainer@aol.com Subject: 'Odessa Ranch 10'{Ian Jacobs}( MM, sm, ws, scat, bd )[ 10 of ? ] Odessa Ranch 10 Few men leave the ranch voluntarily--few walk to Buck's office, utter the specific word, and get transported back to Midland. Most are asked to leave because the man-himself has decided that they are no longer young enough or attractive enough for his tastes and could be replaced by someone who fits both requirements. The men who come to the ranch want to be treated as they do. It is a simple world where agreement, disagreement, even something as basic as black and white are not issues or annoyances. It is a world of animal necessity and sexual abandon whose only essential accessory is the lash and the authority it commands. But even the men who choose this path can, with time, slip into more domesticated urges. Buck's main job is to make sure that any budding relationship is dealt with harshly and brutally and publicly. Dax Dax was from Alabama and odd by ranch standards because of his intellect. He could easily have done any of the usual things that the brightest normally do. But he was ashamed of his abilities. His hometown was a southern mill town, his parents southern mill people. He was not mill quality, though. His intellect gave him the tools to recognize this, and to recognize he had any number of ways out. But crucial components were lacking, not in brain power, but in heart. He didn't want the responsibility of college and a white-collar life--he saw some of it and what he saw he hated. Dax wanted the mindless skullduggery of manual labor. He wasn't openly gay, but it was something he couldn't deny to himself even if he wanted to. But he knew he would never find someone to love him who would be willing to set up housekeeping in Blount County, Alabama. Because of that, staying in rural Alabama wasn't an option. Dax found Odessa the same way everyone did. He chatted with Answrman. He had pleaded with Buck to be allowed to join the ranch at seventeen. No amount of begging was going to work, so he just set his sights on showing up at the ranch on the day he turned 18. He was of average height and build, perfect for molding. Brown hair, brown eyes, attractive, noticeable. When Buck lashed him at the whipping post he purposefully kept the lash from landing on Dax's ass--he wanted to mar that white roundness in private just before fucking it. Dax claimed his asshole to be a virgin and Buck did nothing to disabuse himself of that (he didn't pass up the opportunity to pop a pretty-boy cherry anytime it was offered). Ty first saw Dax one day at lunch when he went to the kitchen to get chow for himself and his field mates. There was no hiding his attraction; he didn't try--he made sure, in fact, that Dax knew the hardon was because of and for him. Dax blushed a little, doing the Prince William sly look over the top of his eyebrows. But they didn't speak. Ty continued to make the meal runs daily. He was no longer turned on as much by his shack mates and field mates. He thought variety was what he wanted; after seeing Dax the part of his body between scrotum and the pit of his stomach told him what he really wanted was Dax. Within three days he knew which field Dax was in and in which shack he slept. "I'm comin' to see you tonight, you be outside waitin." Ty held the food he was taking back slowly. He wanted to drop the chow boxes and rub his callused hands over Dax skin still so new to the elements and the lash as to be almost baby smooth. He wanted his cock in that fresh hole, but at least equal to that he just wanted to touch and smell the object of his obsession. Ty's cock dribbled constantly, and he was fucking his shack mates again, but each trust, each squirt was in proxy for what he was planning for Dax. "No, Ty. You'll get us in trouble." "I don't care, I want you." "Ty" "Dax, I'm gonna be there tonight. I will break into your shack and pull you out of it if I have to." He meant it, and Dax knew it. He waited for the others to sleep. He stayed outside telling them he wasn't sleepy and didn't want to keep them awake by fidgeting. After his shack mates had settled, Ty headed for Dax's shack. The shacks were placed far apart to discourage fraternization. It was easier for Buck to keep tabs on everyone like that. He would be able to tell if love descended on the members of a shack pretty easily and could handle it far more quickly than if all slaves were in a smaller and tighter confine. Ty had to hope that as he ran from one shack to the next that no one would notice him. By waiting as he did, he allowed time for all the slaves to take care of their bladders and bowels which they do in increasingly large circles around the shacks (digging small holes and filling them in after they've shit), meaning the shacks are moved about twice a year. Ty ran crouched between the shacks and would make as if he were digging a hole near one shack so he could determine if he were being watched. Once confident that he was safe he would repeat this until he got to Dax's. Dax waited for his mates to go to sleep. He made a quiet excuse that he had to piss in case anyone was still partly awake. Outside he sat with his knees drawn to his chest a good deal away from the shack itself. The night cooled around him, his ass sweating slightly against the warm dust. It itched a little, but he did nothing to scratch it. He meditated on that feeling, it was similar to what he knew he would be feeling when Ty fucked him, an exquisite itch inside his ass. His cock drooled against his tight stomach. The shacks were roughly lined up in a row. There were fifteen of them in all. Ty had to maneuver past 6 of them to get to his quarry. They were placed about a hundred yards apart, leaving huge amounts of dead open space for him to get caught. He had no idea what he might expect being caught. It wasn't as if he were trying to escape, and none of the few public punishments he'd seen so far had anything to do with being caught away from the shack. Still he moved as a surreptitious inmate heading for freedom. His eyes were fully used to the dark when he got to the shack next to Dax's, so he could see the neat ball of his obsession sitting far from where his mates were hopefully asleep. It was an internal fight, but he was able to keep his guard up until he actually got to Dax. Dax waved at him a little as he saw Ty approach. Ty was about the same height as Dax, but he was broader, more stocky, exactly what Dax craved. Dax knew from the way he walked and talked that Ty was as close to animal as anyone here at the ranch, and the way he moved toward him only went to prove it. Ty moved with a fox's cunning, speed and focus being more important than grace and cover; what kept him fairly safe in Dax's eyes was his ability to move so fast, so close to the ground. Someone not paying close attention would assume it to be perhaps a dog. Dax opened his mouth to whisper hi, but it was immediately plugged by Ty's tongue. Ty was panting through the kiss, breathing heavily and with man scent onto Dax's eager face. Dax tried to take in tongue and smell as deeply as he could as if he could simply suck forever, but he fell to panting too very quickly. Ty broke off a little, like a swimmer finally having to come up for air. Knowing that they didn't have the luxury of time, Dax stayed silent, and went straight for Ty's cock, lying stiff against his spasmodic gut. Ty did what he could to keep his moans as quiet as possible. The boy he wanted, the boy who filled his head when he used his mates as proxy holes, was using his lithe tongue around the sheathed head of his cock. It felt like his cock was going to split its own skin, was going to molt into something larger, more sensitive. Dax tried to steady Ty's bucking hips. He moved so that he could keep his hands against Ty's lower abs while his tongue and lips teased Ty's cock. "No." Ty gasped and pushed Dax off of him with force. "It ain't your mouth I want on my cock, I want my tongue in that. I want my tongue in you when I squirt my load up your ass." He crawled over Dax. He lifted Dax's hips so he could get at his hole. Ty ran his hands up the smooth thighs while he worked enough spit into his dry mouth--dry from the trip, dry from excitement. Finally he had enough and moved close to the twitching hole. The smell of sweat Dax's balls and ass were strong enough to make Ty nearly cum from one breath. He spit gently onto the upturned hole and worked in the thick spit with a thumb. Without words, he put Dax's ankles over his shoulders and guided his cock into the silky, little used hole. He used all his energy to control himself as much as he could. Each man kept his eyes closed. They could tell from breath and heat when their heads were close and mouths found each other more through need than anything else. Ty moved his cock slowly in and out of Dax's itching hole. He wanted to buck, his cock was signaling that it wanted to cum now, but Ty wanted to be more familiar with this perfect asshole before he allowed that. Dax clawed a bit at Ty's brown and lash scarred ass. Dax wanted to be fucked, the itch was becoming more of a tickle, a tickle that demanded quick thrusting to alleviate. He moved his hips opposite Ty's gentle movements to try to encourage him. "No, I want to go slow." "Ty, no. I want you to fuck me." Ty could no more ignore that than a genie could a wish. His hips moved with a speed he couldn't imagine before. His mouth clamped against Dax's, tongue moving as rapidly as his cock. In seconds that seemed to each man to last far longer, he came. Thrust after thrust launching more sticky cum deeper and deeper into his mate. Each squirt holding the power of a single orgasm, each squirt being as powerful as his first time. Without missing a beat, he moved Dax's legs off his shoulders. He ran his hand up Dax's crack to lube his hands with his cum and jerked Dax's cock, so much like his own. It was only a couple of short seconds before his cooling cum was married to Dax's own hot sperm. "I" Ty began. Dax put a hand over Ty's mouth, he knew what was going to follow. He wanted to say it too, but if left unsaid, they could still both deny it, maybe. "I" "No. Don't say anything. I want to watch you as you leave, I want to watch until even after I can't see you in the darkness." "But." The look in Dax's eyes, the watery, tear ready eyes, matched his own and Ty knew he needed more to comply than to say the words. "I'll see you at lunch." Dax sat still and compact as he did while waiting; he kept his hole puckered as tightly as he could so as to let as little cum out as he possible. It didn't take long for Ty to disappear which was as much testament to Ty's speed as the darkness itself. Dax couldn't help feeling that he was now playing a part in a sappy movie--it stopped being porn when his heart's desire began to outrank that of his cock. At first only mixed in, then finally becoming the dominate thought, Dax could only contemplate the meaning behind two words: Now what? An Indirect Warning "Where did you go last night?" Seth moved to the edge of his parcel to ask Ty. One of his jobs in his crew before he started handling the communication was as a sort of spy to make sure the new members weren't infiltrators. He woke up when Ty left and knew he had not returned before he fell back asleep--long enough for Ty to have taken care of nearly any bodily need. "Uh. To take a piss." "No. I know you didn't do that. I heard you run off." "Well if you know that, then you know I ain't gonna say where I went." "Just don't fuck anything up for the rest of us." Seth began to walk back to the spot where he left off. "What do you know that I don't? I been here longer than you." Despite sounding angry, the words might have been, but his tone displayed nerves. "Ty, I know how places like this work and . . ." "You been in a place like this before?" "No, but this is not different from POW camps. Listen, I know that sometimes if one guy fucks up big, they sometimes take iit out on more than just him. "I ain't never seen that happen." "Maybe no one has done something to have it happen while you are here." "Maybe, but I ain't never seen that happen. Just mind your own ass." "I am." Seth just said this quietly to himself. Seth was right. The ranch was a place that used that sort of coordinated punishment when Buck felt it was necessary. He had to be the one to approve it and direct it. Before he took over, coordinated punishment was a bit more common, but he realized that it led to poor production and worse morale. Yes the men here were all slaves, but very few could take severe and schizophrenic abuse regularly and not either quit or go crazy. Trustees and hands were trained to pay close attention to the field slaves. To keep them from growing bored, to feed their need to be treated as slaves, they were encouraged to treat them accordingly, even if they didn't earn specific punishment. This kept their fetish needs sated, so they were less likely to ask to leave, and more likely to perform their specific labors. However, those with whips were also enjoined from unnecessarily brutal punishment or punishment delivered too often. Violators of that rule were usually whipped publicly and given the option to spend a week as a honeyboy or a month demoted back to field slave. Production only lags for about 45 minutes for a public flogging that the field slaves must witness--and for the public whipping of a particularly cruel trustee or hand increases morale and productivity. Buck knew this through not only gut feeling but also numbers. The main reason the man-himself kept Buck on well beyond the usual retirement age was that he had a mind for the bottom line. The man-himself wasn't really concerned at this point with the potential financial drain of his fetish, but with Buck running the ranch, the ranch actually lost very little money, so it could continue to sustain itself for the foreseeable future. For this reason, coordinated punishment, that involving multiple hands and field slaves, could only be used for extreme cases. As stated before, the most prominent extreme case was love. And the discouragement mechanism for it was equally extreme. Suspicion Alex, Ty's trustee, noticed that his most animal-like ward had been lagging for a couple of days. Normally Ty and his shack mates moved as a pretty cohesive group, but for the last couple of days, Ty was moving much slower and his mates did nothing to try to cover for him. This rose enough concern in Alex to warrant him keeping a close eye on Ty. Alex wandered around the plot that Ty and his shack mates had divided amongst them. The pile of weeds each slave placed beyond his square of responsibility were roughly equal the first couple of days and Alex noticed nothing else out of the ordinary. By accident on the third day, Alex was coming around another plot of corn when he saw Ty moving some of the weeds from another pile next to his plot into his. This alone was enough for a serious beating because it meant that Ty was probably letting his square get near to seed, but Alex held back. He wanted to know why Ty was doing this. "Ty wake up." Seth whispered loudly, throwing a clod of dirt towards Ty's light snoring. "Shit Seth." "You cannot keep doing this. Going out every night. You keep sleeping in there and . . ." "And what? I'm willin' to take a beatin' or two, probably like it too." "Ty, I don't think it will be just you." "Huh? What are you referrin' to?" "You get caught doing whatever you are doing and I think all of us will pay." "Man this ain't Germany." Seth was torn. He could go to Alex and snitch, but what would that mean? Would it really save his ass, or would it make it worse? Even if he did tell Alex, would that mean that he would avoid whatever he thought he might have coming? Plus there was just the general factor that you don't rat out your mate. It's funny that anxiety over the right thing to do would survive the brutal treatment they all received as honeyboys. Not all had it when they came and not all kept it after leaving the honeyroom. Seth had it before he arrived and kept it after. It was a major part of what made him a slave. The anxiety was a turn-on, at least in the right balance. What Ty was doing left Seth instinctually feeling more fearful than anxious. This was not a turn-on, but despite that, he was not going to rat out his mate. What would happen would happen. Since he doubted that anyone here would beat him to death (the fear that led him to the ranch to begin with), whatever was waiting, if anything, could be endured. Discovery After his wards brought their dinner back to the shack, Alex went to Ty's square. He expected to see that there were far more weeds in it than in the others. He was not disappointed. Ty did what they all do who shrug off the work, he pulled the weeds from the visible perimeter, but left those in the center untouched. Judging by the size, Ty hadn't tended the center of his patch for a little over a week. Since Alex was responsible for his slaves, he was responsible if they fell short. It was his obligation to address it. At the very least this was a breech serious enough to mean a flogging and a week, maybe two, back in the honeyroom. But a fuck up this serious (it's not like the slaves have television to watch or clubs to get ready for) usually only meant one thing. Alex was torn too. Where Seth's loyalty to a fellow that drove him to remain silent, it was Alex's loyalty to his own ass that conflicted him. He was a field slave at the time the last affair was handled. It had been two years earlier. But what he couldn't remember was whether or not the trustees were also punished. He didn't witness the whole thing, just the public portions and his sympathy ran to his fellow slaves, not to those with whips, so he couldn't remember what happened to the trustees. He had two paths. He could punish Ty for 'slacking' and give him a warning about trying to keep a relationship going without actually discovering if there was one. Or he could keep an eye on Ty for a day or two more, especially at night. Since the second option bought him a little more time, he decided it was the best one. What he didn't yet want to face was what he would do if the little man sneaked out of his shack. A couple of hours after dark, he was faced with that. Now the choice, nab him now, or see where he went. Again, since the second option bought more time, he went with it. He stayed about a hundred yards back from the crouching slave, and kept against the field line so he was a bit more camouflaged. There was only about an eighth moon lighting the ranch, but it was enough for Alex to see Dax sitting beyond his shack. For him to see Ty approach that figure, and for fucking to begin. Now what? Alex, by accidental design or procrastination, was finally presented with a Hobson's choice. There was no way that he could keep this quiet from Buck for long. Even if he was able to get Ty to stop, it might not take long for the rumor to spread to Buck. There really was no choice. Sex in general might be this way, but sex on the ranch definitely is. It is given over entirely to abandon. Surroundings, time, worry, don't just fade, they disappear. This is what keeps the men here slaves. They know, many are reminded, that they can leave. But the orgasms here are usually the strongest any of them have had before. The variety, the masculinity, the forced camaraderie, potential for and actual use of harsh treatment all work in concert to keep the men on the ranch slaves. So Alex didn't have to sneak up to the fucking pair. But he didn't want them to bolt, so he did move as quietly as he could. He stood behind Ty, who was fucking Dax doggie. He knew by the breathing that neither just-barely-man could have heard him unless he yelled; but not wanting to risk anything he just lunged at the fucking pair and grabbed a collar in each hand. "No no no no no no!" Ty struggled a bit, but Alex tightened his grip which began to cut off Ty's air. "No." "Either of you fuckers run and I . . ." He didn't know how to finish that statement. He forced both on their stomachs and brought them close enough together so he could put a knee on the back of each neck long enough for him to take a length of chain and connect it to the back of each collar. Then he took a clip and linked the cuffs behind each slave's back. "I" One of them said, maybe both. "Shut the fuck up. I don't know what you got me into, but I promise you this, whatever I get, you will each get times ten." Alex said this in a new way. Dax and Ty were used to the taskmaster/drill instructor way of ordering them around, a forced hyperbole, without real malice or heat. Alex's words were stinging in their seriousness. Suddenly for the three men walking to Buck's cabin, this world of exotic, self-sustaining fantasy had the harsh smell of reality blowing into it. "What is it?" Buck was surprisingly calm. It wasn't common for him to be awakened, but when it happened, it was better for him to be calm to begin with until he knew enough of the situation. "Buck, I got a arejay." He looked at the two chained slaves with eyes downcast like naughty children. "Jesus Christ." "I" Alex started. "No. You just go back, I'll get things ready." He took the chain between Ty and Dax and guided them into his cabin. "But" "You don't want to deal with me right now Al. Just go." Not anger, more fatigue. Buck unhooked the chain and the link behind Ty and Dax, leaving them free to move. He pointed them toward the ratty sofa. Each sat close together, shaking lightly but visibly. "Do you want to stay on the ranch?" He pointed first to Dax who was to his left. Dax looked petrified and said nothing. "This isn't a trick question, just a simple one. Do you want to stay?" "Yes sir." "Do you?" Pointing to Ty. "Yes sir." "At this point, there is only one way for that to happen." The thought seemed to occur to both slaves at the same time, each face pained and drained. "You arejays think the same thing which is why I didn't bother asking about love. You will both be able to stay if you both choose, and you might even wind up in the same shack, but you won't be in love anymore. Now, knowing that, do you still want to stay?" A less sure yes from each. "I will ask that question a couple of more times. The price to pay involves more than just the two of you. Your trustees and shack mates will pay along with you." (At this, Ty's already heavy stomach fell through the floor.) "You two will pay a heavier price, but they pay too--this is an expensive mistake. Do you still want to stay?" Buck knew Dax and Ty were thinking about the life they might expect if they left. He never forgot any of the slave's specifics since he got to know them well before they submitted. He knew each were from small towns, were unlikely to find willing arms to take them in back home and who were probably not prepared for city life. He knew each was weighing the benefits and liabilities as fast as their addled minds could handle. He also knew that since what they had was love, that each would want to stay to see if they could somehow beat the system. Yes. "The last condition is that your escapeword is suspended until the whole thing is over. You can say it as often as you like, but until I say it's finished, it won't work. Saying yes now starts the process." Since they already weighed the benefits and liabilities and concluded that others suffering for their mistake was acceptable, this one seldom gave any pause. Yes. "Can I ask a question sir?" Dax concluded that there could not possibly be any harm at all in this; he had no idea what was coming, could conclude only that it was awful, so therefore what could be worse? "Sure." "What's an arejay sir? He smiled a demure grin. "It's what the man-himself calls two kids who fall in love. It's short for Romeo and Juliet. Can I ask you a question?" Dax was stunned. He responded with a quick of course, but was still shocked to be asked permission for anything. "Which one are you, R or J?" Dax blushed a little. "J all the way sir." "I'm never wrong." Buck told them they were to sleep on the floor in his office, and he went off to bed. Dax and Ty finished what they started, what was interrupted; they were going to have to pay full price, they may as well get full use. Ty fucked as though there had been no pause. For Dax, this fuck was different because his mind wasn't fully transported. He enjoyed the feeling the way someone condemned might. He wondered if it was the last, and if so, he cataloged the feelings, physical and emotional, so that he might not forget them. Each thrust and withdraw, each anal tickle, minor contraction, surge through his own cock; each smell, taste, sight of the man he was going to suffer for with his eyes clinched against the force of his own orgasm. After Ty jerked Dax off and licked up his cum from his stomach, Ty fell asleep. He said the words though. Again, full price might as well mean full use. Dax said the words too. How strange the whole night was. It was like the whole thing was in parentheses and he hadn't yet reached the ")." He heard and said "love" he sat on a piece of furniture for the first time in months and had a conversation where someone in charge, to him THE man in charge, asked him a question, even leave. At some point he knew he was going to feel guilty, going to see his fellows punished for no fault but proximity. He wasn't close to his shack mates, but now wondered if he would be ostracized by everyone. At some point he would hurt; at some point he would probably wish he had never come to the ranch, but right now, he was enveloped in a parenthetical whose end was near but not yet here. Right now he was removed from those feelings, from that facet of reality. He wanted to stay awake until the morning, to breathe deeply the feelings of strangeness, the smells of an office removed from the fecund smell of manure and growth and five other unwashed men. It didn't take long though for him to fall asleep too. Colloquy Seth knew that Ty simply disappearing could not be the simple conclusion. He discovered the correctness of his instinct when Alex rounded up him and the remaining 4 shack mates and led them silently towards the entrance to the ranch. Seth had the sinking feeling that they were all going to be thrown out. He was illegal and would face a short future if he were deported. He wanted to puke, but kept pace with his fellows. He couldn't stop the worry, but he did conclude that what was done was done. Seth saw another group of five plus a trustee walking a little ahead of them. He recognized this as a sort of 'brother's keeper' situation. They were all going to receive some sort of reprimand because they failed to stop their brother from fucking up. He couldn't let himself believe that the reprimand would mean expulsion. How odd, was this a sort of biblical thing? Expelled from his own specific Eden because some other weak fucker couldn't follow one simple proscription? Worry was replaced with anger in more than equal measure. The ten slaves all stood at attention while their trustees talked with Buck. The two of them walked off and Buck came toward them. "Alright boys relax." They did. "We have a situation here not really of your making, but guilty or not makes no difference at this point. Keeping this place going is my job and if that means casting a wide net to do it, then so be it." Wide net? What the hell was he talking about? "Your trustees have gone to get the man-himself who's going to ask you a couple of questions. He will ask all of you one by one. At this point, you do what you think you have to." Seth couldn't tell by tone or word if this meant they were going to be forced out. Where Dax saw no way to make it worse for himself, Seth felt he had no choice but to ask, his anxiety had grown too large. "Sir?" "Yes Seth?" "Sir are we being thrown out sir?" "You may wish it after a while, but no. The man-himself will tell you what you need to know." And he walked to his office leaving the 10 slaves standing confused and nervous. Seth saw a figure walking towards them different from all others on the ranch. He didn't wear a cowboy hat, his clothes were obviously clean and new. Short with short blond hair was all Seth could determine. He had grown so accustomed to sizing up the whole man by sight, that the sight of loose clothing left him unable to determine more than just the man's height. He closed in, in no real hurry. Seth was the closest one, so the man said to him: "Please go to Buck's office and get me a chair?" "Sir yes sir." "Wait. Everybody sit, not you though" pointing to Seth; all complied. "I own this place, and by extension, you, but I don't want you calling me sir for now. Now, bring me that chair?" Seth wandered off agape. His shock was not greater nor less than that of his fellows. This small man whom they'd never before seen, who did own them, was breaking more than one fundamental rule. No insults. Asking a question. Using a word none had heard since they got into the back of Buck's pickup. Seth returned quickly with the chair and sat. The man-himself sat in the chair. "Not that it really matters, but my name is Sam. It's unlikely you will see me again, but I don't like being called the man-himself, so you might as well know what I call myself. Buck told you I was going to ask each of you a couple of questions. Really it is the same question twice." He asked each slave individually if he wanted to stay on the ranch. All of them said yes. "Now what happened is that one member in each of your crews has fallen in love. All are warned against relationships when you enter and most have no trouble keeping to that. Sometimes though . . . ." There was some grumbling. "Anyway, you all know that things here aren't fair, but the next few days are going to be perhaps unfair to an extreme." "I'm going to kick that shithead's ass." One of Ty's mates said. "You will actually be given an opportunity to do something like that if you do opt to stay. Exactly what happens you will find out when you go through it, I will say some of it is public, and all of it is designed to be humiliating and painful, probably in a way none of you have experienced before. Dax and Ty have had their escapeword suspended, yours is not. So if you hear them say it and see that no one does anything about it, know that it isn't the same for you. If you decide during it that you cannot continue, say the word and you will be released." "Why?" The same red haired slave who wanted to kick Dax's ass whined. "Why what?" "Why not just throw them out and be done with it and let us alone." His mates tried to shush him. "There is more to it than just cruelty. I could explain it, but I doubt it would make sense to you. I will tell you that there is method to it and if you do not come to understand what that method is during, I imagine you will begin to after it is over." He paused to watch the mild anger turn to more confusion. "So, you will have your escapeword, you will be given the opportunity to exact some revenge if you want on Ty and Dax if you choose to stay, or you can go. If you need a few minutes, you can take it." All decided to stay, none needed extra time to consider it. Buck and Sam disagreed over why this was--none of them ever decided to leave and only two of the many had ever quit during the ordeal. Sam believed it was a desire to stay in that slave's paradise that made them willing to endure; Buck said they did it to get the chance to beat the hell out of the one who put them there. Ten slaves would do it knowing they could leave, two slaves would endure worse knowing they could do nothing to stop it, two trustees would be forced to choose between forms of temporary demotion, both Sam and Buck were right to some degree. Fourteen people would pay for the sins of two, what made those other 12 put up with it had to be more complex than just one thing. Sentence (Alex and Jake (Dax's trustee) were each given the choice between a month in the fields or a week as a honeyboy. Both took the week. Life in the fields is probably more than just four times as easy, but for Alex and Jake, the time spent was more important than the severity. Their choice meant two new slaves entered the fields. Honeyboys were not included in the audience for the public punishment.) All the trustees gathered their slaves together behind the barn before they got their breakfast. There was a platform raised a couple of feet from the flat earth. All the slaves were ordered to sit. The platform had a single whipping post about 8 feet tall in the center. Buck climbed the platform. "We found a couple of lovebirds. The first part of their punishment is a public flogging." The two hands chosen to help Buck carry out the punishment pulled Ty and Dax onto the platform. They stood naked with eyes downcast. Both were petrified. The only thing Buck said to them when he woke them up was, "It's time." "These two slaves will each get forty lashes." Buck's words hit Dax as though he was punched in the lower gut; Ty knew it was going to be something like this, but neither visibly reacted. "But before they get theirs, they each pick one of their shack mates to get ten." Buck came to Dax and ordered him to choose. Fuck, Dax thought. The difference between knowing others will suffer for him and actually having to pick who suffered was a chasm Dax didn't want to face. He did the only thing he could think of: "Sir Dax sir." He whispered. "Nope. I might just go ahead and give you fifty, but if you don't pick one, all of them will get it." He really didn't like nor dislike any of his mates enough to make a judgment call. He only knew that he was going to have to come up with some name fast. "Sir Aaron sir." He whispered. One of the hands disappeared briefly into the barn and came out with Aaron. Aaron was over six feet, and a bit thicker than most on the ranch. He wasn't fat, just a bit meatier than most on the ranch whose bodies tended towards lithe given their diets and the type of work they had to perform. Dark hair and complexion. It was obvious that he didn't feel the lash too often, the skin on his back and ass was not covered with the thin white evidence that most of the rest had. He heard Buck from the barn, so he thought he knew what to expect. It had been over a year since he felt the horsewhip when he entered the ranch. He and the other slaves spent the night trying to psyche themselves up for what was to come. Still he walked stoically onto the platform and stood against the whipping post without having to be dragged or ordered. "Alright. You two," Buck said to Ty and Dax. "You watch every lash. If either of you turns away, that lash is repeated." Aaron declined a bit. His composure disappeared though when the flogging began. The ranch rang with his screams. Aaron actually was able to scream his threat. "Dax you're a dead fuck!" He screamed half way through. He was the kind of slave who didn't feel the lash too often because he was always a good little boy and because he had a way of not being picked when a hand or a trustee needed to make an example. So he was seriously ill-prepared for so severe a lashing (he was one of the few who only needed one lash when he entered). "Your turn." Buck said to Ty. Ty didn't have the same problem picking. He had had time to think about it and eliminated his shack mates one by one, in order of preference, until he had only one. "Sir Pete Sir." Pete was the red head slave who questioned Sam the day before. He glared at Ty who tried not to look but couldn't help it; he saw Pete mouth something like "you're dead." Pete was bound in place against the whipping post. Mentally, Pete was prepared for 10 lashes with one of the cat-o-nine tails he was already accustomed to. He watched, literally in horror, as Buck accepted his horse whip from one of the hands. The twenty hands and more than eighty field slaves disappeared. To Pete, the only thing he could see in eye or mind's eye was the whip. "Oh god no." Pete said, not loudly, but many heard. "You want a bit Pete?" Buck asked. "Uh." He had no idea. He only knew that he didn't do a fucking thing wrong and was going to experience the worst pain he knew of because someone else fucked up. What the hell he thought, since he didn't do anything wrong, he wasn't going to do anything to try to stifle himself. "Sir no sir." Buck began. Despite only using it once on everyone when they enter, he was very adept at having the whip end land and continue exactly where he wanted. His control belied his relative lack of practice with it. His goal for the four men who would come under it now was to avoid the lash landing on, or straying onto, the ass--it needed to be kept free of abrasions for what was to follow. Pete felt the first lash hit his back from one shoulder to just above the opposite hip before the sound hit his ears. He could only gasp. The first one is so sudden, so sharp that the full pain only begins to register just before the second is usually given. The second made a red, but still bloodless X on Pete's back. He was beginning to find his voice, he let out a yelp. By the third one, he was screaming. He wanted to escape his body, to pull both Ty's and Dax's souls into his body and watch each of them suffer. But each new lash compounded the fact that he was as locked into his body and its sufferings as it was bound to the post. A lash from Alex's cat hurt, but the sting generally only lasted a few seconds--especially after being somewhat accustomed to it. Pete couldn't imagine ever becoming accustomed to the seer pain running so deeply along the visible reminder of each lash and so strongly that his whole body ached as if punched with dozens of fists. For the last three lashes, Pete could only whimper through clinched teeth because his jaws were cramped closed. His gut was similarly clinched. And he got small splinters in each big toe because they dug so fervently into the wooden platform. Pete had only felt three lashes when he entered the ranch. He now made it through 10, but by the tenth, only the fact that his wrists were bound to the post was keeping him erect. Only trickles of blood dripped down his back as the two hands supported the limp and moaning slave. Pete was dragged back to the barn in tears. After a few minutes the hands returned with the shack mates. Each hand was supporting a whipped slave; Pete and Aaron did what they could to walk under their own power. They walked as though drunk, and in a sense they were. Their bodies still ached because all muscles fought to contract while they were being whipped, so now all their muscles were sluggish. They were also somewhat high from the only partially effective rush of endorphins. They were brought out to witness for an altogether different reason than the rest of the audience. Everyone else was supposed to take a lesson from these public thrashings, no doubt most did even though every cock was hard except for those being lashed (Ty's was hard throughout, Dax's was not). For the shack mates though, and especially the unlucky one picked, this was retribution. Forty strokes though is another universe. It doesn't increase by a magnitude of only 4, but quickly just goes to the top of the victim's endurance and hovers there until the ordeal is over. Most go into a fugue state after about a dozen or so (depending on their threshold) and then pass out about a dozen after that. While the mind might not be aware of the lashes delivered after losing consciousness, the body certainly does. Still lashes delivered after the slave passes out are meant more for the audience than the slave. Dax yelped through the first dozen lashes. Grunted for the ones that followed. He wasn't lucky enough to pass out fully, but he did stay in the fugue state for the last twenty lashes. After the first several, his muscles stopped relaxing during the short time between strokes. Each muscle was trying to constrict itself into oblivion--each muscle having a war with all its neighbors as the electric heat from each lash sent the same painful message to all. His mind raced in the early going. Dax kept willing himself to think thoughts of comfort, but the pain was too great, too abrupt for his unpracticed mind to mitigate with simple thoughts of soaking in a warm bath. He wanted to beg, wanted to barter whatever he could of his body, but his jaws, tongue, throat couldn't perform anything so subtle as speech. He couldn't stop himself from tugging wildly at the bindings on his wrists. He knew there was no way out of them, but knowledge didn't override the animal imperative of avoiding pain, let alone a pain like this one. The numbers stopped meaning anything. That thirty came after twenty, that thirty was closer to the end than not meant nothing. His limited lucid thoughts at the tail end of the ordeal were spent trying to decide whether or not this thing could be endured indefinitely. Buck knew how to, and did, moderate the lashes. But he didn't start lighter and move upward, rather, he started the same for Dax as those two before, but after 10 moderated down. He was certain that those moderated licks would still have been tough to handle, but he also knew his goal was maximum pain and maximum horror for the witnesses, not for death. Dax's blood ran thickly down his scarred back. Buck wanted Dax's back to be a forever reminder to anyone seeing it what it stood for, but he didn't want to debilitate this young slave. Where Pete's and Aaron's backs had 10 countable stripes, Dax's back was just a solid frame of pink and red and blood. And as his back ran thickly with blood, his head ran thickly with drool and tears. Ty stood at attention and tried to focus past Dax. He tried to daydream about being anywhere else, but Dax's urgent screams kept pulling him back into his own naked and soon to be tortured body. Tears ran down his cheeks and he sniffled as quietly as he could. Buck finally reached the last lash. The hands who had been shuttling the slaves between the barn and the pillory loosed the bonds and gently allowed Dax to collapse. His face, his body, his labored breathing were all traits of an agony that none in the audience could have known. Some felt sorry, some felt a little guilt that their cocks were dribbling precum like piss during the lashing, but all of them were glad they weren't in Dax's shackles. Ty's legs wouldn't move easily. He didn't want to be flogged, but likewise he wasn't going to try to run. He wasn't going to allow Dax to be alone in his suffering. That was an emotional luxury, an emotional caprice. He didn't make it past the tenth lash before the fallacy of his emotions was exposed. He knew one thing, if he had to choose, he would stand there and watch Dax take 40 more if it meant he wouldn't have to feel another lash. The hands removed him from the whipping post and took him into the barn. The whole enterprise, 100 lashes on four slaves lasted little more than an hour. As Ty was being taken to the barn, Buck reiterated that the lashes were only the first part, the most public part, of the punishment for slaves who risk falling in overt love. They were sent back to their duties and the ten slaves who were to undergo the rest of the ordeal were herded to the barn. Necessary Services (Sam knew he needed discrete professionals to look after both his slaves and his horses and cattle. He had three doctors and four vets on call. They weren't paid in dollars, as you could easily guess, but in whatever services they might want from any slave(s) of their choosing--the number and length of service open to negotiations. Sam put a call in to two of the doctors the day before the whippings; he needed them to be there to render specific medical attention to the four.) All 12 slaves were in the barn. Dax, Ty, Aaron, and Pete were all lying on their stomachs; two doctors were looking at the wounds, but at that time doing nothing more. The eight who were not put beneath the lash were all herded out. They were taken to a concrete slab behind the barn. It had 20 cages in two rows of ten attached to the concrete. Each of the eight was put into his own small cage, measuring just over three feet on all sides--they had some little freedom of movement, but stretching out was not possible. "Alright fuckers, while you're in these cages, you're dogs. If I see any of you trying to eat with your hands, all y'all will be beaten." Taking a page straight out of the Mason Powell's porn classic Brig, John, one of the hands who was going to oversee the ordeal told them. Back in the barn, Buck watched as the doctors began their work. They laid a sterile wrap onto Dax's and Ty's backs. They applied some topical pain killer onto Pete's and Aaron's backs. They winced a bit, but the medication took affect so rapidly that they quickly calmed down and almost slept. Their wounds were cleaned and examined closely. Buck had done a professional job. All of the cuts were superficial and would heal very quickly. The two were allowed to sleep while the doctors performed the same routine on Dax and Ty. Buck's handiwork here was a bit more severe--there's no amount of skill that can stop 40 lashes from doing far more damage than 10. None of the cuts required stitches, but a few were deep enough to cause concern for infection. "How long before the rest of the punishment can continue?" Buck asked. "Two days, three at the most. It depends on whether or not we can keep these cuts clean." From the tone, it was obvious that both Buck and the doctor not only knew each other, but knew the situation as well. "The salt is next to the tub in my place. I'll be out with the hands, send word if you need me." Salt?! There is no way he could consider submitting to that Dax thought. The lashing was pain enough, whatever would come next would probably be humiliation enough, but salting these wounds was a level of cruelty he would never have thought possible. He resolved to fight it as much as he had to. When Buck left, Dax had to ask, "What did he mean by salt?" Shaking as much in his voice as his body. "Sea salt. It won't hurt. It will help you heal much faster." "How's that?" Still suspicious. "Never mind about how, just relax and trust me." In his forties, this doctor was as fit as anyone on the ranch. "What happens next?" "We get you up to Buck's and into a tub of salt water." "No, I mean after that." "Even if I told you I doubt you'd believe me, but obviously, I'm not telling." After the two doctors working on Dax and Ty were finished, the ordered the four to stand. All complied as quickly as they could, but it was like the first morning after a very severe workout. They stood without speed and without grace. They were led haltingly from the barn to Buck's office. "Should I ask for a volunteer, or should I just pick?" "Goddammit, I'll do it." Pete said. "Know this turd," he said to Ty, "if you hear me scream then I'll make you scream louder when I get my chance with you." The doctor followed Pete into the bathroom and shut the door. The others could hear the water run, then stop. They heard some muffled talk, then nothing. No scream, no further talking. Ty relaxed a little. He knew Pete wanted to kick his ass regardless, but at least he didn't have this added incentive; or he was dead and would offer no challenge at all. Either way, Ty felt better about his future in the tub and his future at Pete's hands. A few minutes later, the doctor opened the bathroom door and Pete came out. He was walking fully upright and without obvious pain. He seemed calm. He walked over to Aaron. "You're turn guy. I almost wish I could say it hurt just so these shits would get it too, but it actually feels real good." Pete lay on the floor and went to sleep. Aaron had his ten minutes, then Ty had his. Dax was the last in. He sat in the tub and let the water come up his back slightly because he was still suspicious despite all the evidence that it wasn't going to hurt. There was some light stinging, but it quickly went away. So he lay back fully. The salty water soothed his back, the warm water relaxed his muscles. The only discomfort came when he wiggled a little. The skin was still very sensitive and he could feel the currents exaggerating the cuts on his back, but as with the stinging, the discomfort was only momentary. He got out of the tub when ordered and dried off all but his back as ordered. He joined the others in Buck's office. "You will all get this twice a day until the wounds heal enough for the rest of the stuff to take place." They waited for Buck to return. Pete and Aaron sat close by and broke the silence with difficult whispers from time to time. Dax and Ty were neither near each other nor the whispering pair. They stared through the floor, meditatively. Dax realized that if he looked at Ty, that there would be no hiding his reaction. He didn't want to face the next days, he didn't want to face the possibility of even a single lash again, but he knew if he looked at Ty, he would immediately get a dripping hardon and wanted to avoid that more than anything else. The repercussions of that visible metaphor were beyond Dax's imaginings, and given his own part of 100 lashes, he didn't want to know what might be in store. "How do they look?" Buck asked when he returned. "You did a fine job guy. They look better than I would if I got what they did. I still say it'll be about two days." "You," Buck said to Dax and Ty. "Go outside, the hand there will take you where you need to go." They got up, much less stiffly than before, but still without speed and grace and followed Buck's command. "Let me talk to these two." The doctors left too after Buck made that request. "You doing ok?" "I guess so." Pete said. "Shit. I've been better." Aaron said. "You both did fine." "Shit." Aaron said again. "Fine? My back is still burning. I wouldn't say I felt fine. I think we suffered enough for you to give us at least some hint of what's next." "Well, this isn't a place to work that sort of bargain. You could have opted out at any point. You suffered exactly what anyone would have in the same place." "Will you at least tell us what we get to do to them when this is all over?" Pete asked. "Practically anything you want." "No shit?" Aaron said. "So long as it doesn't look like you're going to break something, you can do just about anything you want." Waiting Ty, Dax, Pete and Aaron took their places in their cages along with the others. For the next two days, only those four were allowed out to get the salt treatment. Otherwise, they all stayed locked into their cages. Just as in Brig, food was slopped into bowls, they ate from them as dogs (also just like their time as honeyboys). The only reason any of them would be allowed out was to get a lashing for eating with their hands or otherwise doing something one of the hands decided was uncanine. None did. They might be pissed, they might be scared, but they were still well trained slaves and weren't going to dispense with that training. Waiting was all there was to do. Sleep didn't come easily because there was nothing to mitigate either the sun or the concrete. They could lie on their backs somewhat easily, but on their stomachs not at all, and lying on their sides bruised their hip-bones. It was low grade, but constant, misery. As honeyboys, they were at least shielded from the sun; they were rescued from boredom, potentially at anytime. Here, on this concrete, in these cages, only the basic animal actions of eating and evacuating punctuated any of the passing time. The ten who were not allowed out found that their envy became almost psychotic when the 4 whipped ones were let out. On the evening of the second day, the doctor took a close look at the whipped ones' backs. They were nicely healed and could withstand three days of punishment if necessary-at which point they would get further treatment (but for now, he gave his go ahead). Maximum Efficiency "Stretch." Buck gave them only the one word when they were all allowed out of their cages. The ten for whom this was the first chance to stand fully erect in over 48 hours, the word was harsher than a standard lashing would have been. They groaned and popped as they stretched muscles constricted to match their limited range of motion. The 4 others had an easier go of it. Buck and the two hands watched closely and ordered specific stretches when they saw one of the slaves struggle. As they did that, Buck walked down the aisle between the two rows of cages and dropped what looked like a small white bundle of cloth in front of each stretching slave. They had not been ordered to stop, they hadn't been ordered even to acknowledge the bundle, so they just continued as if nothing had happened. It took about 15 minutes before Buck was finally comfortable enough with the slaves' movements that he ordered them to stop. Buck ordered them to grab the bundle before them and form a semi-circle around him. Then he took Pete and began the instructions. The bundle was essentially a cut-off t shirt. The neck was sewn shut. Running from what would mid chest, over the neck area, to the mid back was a swath of material that stood out about half an inch from the t shirt itself. It was composed of additional fabric, some absorbent material, and a thick piece of plastic like a piece of a garbage bag. Using Pete as a model, Buck instructed them on how to put it on. They slid their legs into the arm holes and pulled them all the way up to the crotch. Then they took the bottom of the t, which was hanging just above their knees and pulled the thing up so that it resembled what it in fact became, a diaper. Each slave waited his turn while the hands tightly duct-taped the diaper around his waist. They made two rounds with the tape leaving just a little fabric visible above the gray stripe. The purpose, and fact that it was, a diaper was probably not a surprise to anyone once the taping began. But what Buck said next was. "You are now wearing your latrine for the next seventy-two hours. This means the only breaks you get are for food and sleep. There will be plenty of food, not so much sleep. It is designed to leak very little, but the hands watching you will keep a close eye on you. Anything out of the ordinary and you all get an extra day. Any attempt to take it off gets everyone an extra day and the shithead who tries it will stay diapered until I decide. Ty and Dax spend a minimum of 4 full days." Buck pulled a quarter from his jeans. "Heads or tails?" He directed this to Pete. "Um." He had to fight two thoughts before he could offer an answer. The first was just the general prohibition against slaves making decisions, but the second was his nearly psychotic anger he had towards Dax and Ty. "Heads." Buck flipped the coin; it showed heads. "Heads it is. Your crew goes off with DJ, the rest of you go with Billy." He went back to his office. DJ and Billy chained their slaves in a row and led them off in opposite directions. A Specific Dishonor Regardless of the circumstances, societies cannot dispense with some of what we sometimes see as social niceties that keep order. Honor is just a weighty word for respect intended to keep peace and to separate the team players from the provocateurs. Honor can be, but need not always be, loftier in scope. There is an honor among thieves, even if it isn't what an outsider would ever consider even if he could begin to understand it. Mafia executions are a prime example-not all are done because someone wants to take over, many are done because someone talked, or because someone stepped over some boundary or broke some arcane piece of etiquette that would seem idiotic to any of us on the outside. As mentioned earlier, choosing to jerk off rather than share sex with another slave is considered the height of selfishness. It can also be used as a metaphor for how one slave feels about another: specifically, I find you not worthy of sharing this joy. Because sex isn't a rarity or even a commodity, and because of the danger of falling in love, sharing sex with another slave(s) is not necessarily an affirmative action. Deciding to jerk off, especially to jerk off with an audience (however passive) is always a negative statement. The way slaves express their disgust with a fellow though is more extreme. In order, spitting, pissing, farting, shitting. Words are less than cheep here. Fuck you is a statement with no real meaning. Spitting on someone though shows disrespect, pissing on someone more so. Farting is one level removed from the ultimate form of disgust. Forcing another slave to have contact of any kind, purposefully, with shit is a humiliation that cannot be erased or in any way vitiated. The others allow at least a little room for a d�tente, for settlement. The ultimate one though means a state of permanent war. It is also so severe that it draws lines of hatred between more than just the principles. Friends of the actor will drop all easy association with friends of the soiled, and vice versa. (Though still slaves, at least to Sam, the hands are viewed very differently from the perspective of a honeyboy. Even still, on the odd occasion when a honeyboy is finally promoted to hand before all his former abusers have left, there is at best an uneasy peace among them.) The slaves have so little that can be called freedom, that what they do have they hold onto as sacrosanct. Cumming when they want is the big one. Not being forced to wear their own waste is something they had not considered a privilege before. They are all told when they enter that they would never be denied food, water, or medical treatment. So this is considered by the hierarchy (and by the slaves who undergo it or witness it) as the ultimate humiliation. It is at the very least a tacit pronouncement of the slave's worth. For now the humiliation was still only a promise. For now, they took what joy they could in easy movement. Once the promise was kept, once the diapers were used, the humiliation would become actual, and emotions and hatred would run obviously high. Heads DJ mounted his horse and led his charges toward where the rest of the hands maintained the herd. His horse ambled beside them as they kept a slave's pace. When they arrived at the site, DJ took them to a wagon similar to the one that Ty was attached to as a "mule" when Mike went through his initiation to become a hand. This one was somewhat smaller. "A'ite boys, here's what's doin'." DJ was bred in the bone Texan so much so that he had never left it. "Two of you'll push the cart 'front of th' others. They'll be picking up cow shit and puttin' it in the back of the cart. I'll rotate who pushes and who picks." "Sir, I don't suppose there will be any shovels sir?" Pete was turning very red and it was obvious he put tremendous effort behind trying to be deferential. DJ stared blankly at Pete. "Follow me boys." With that he tsked his horse toward a spot several hundred yards behind the herd's current location. He tied a bandana around his face; he did this far more for effect than for any real necessity. But within 12 to 18 hours, the smell from the slaves themselves would be necessity enough to make him want the bandana most likely. He tethered Ty and Pete to the wagon first. Their job was, for the moment, to stand still until DJ directed them to move. Their job was slow and monotonous, but for the moment it was a good deal less smelly. "I'm gonna spend the next three days thinking about just what I'm gonna do to you when I get the chance. You'll live but only cause I want to see you come through it and try to look me in the eye." All other avenues closed to him, Pete launched a lugie that landed on the side of Ty's face. Hands bound to the cross bar, he could only wait for gravity and the sun to remove the offensive spit. "Fine, whatever." Then after a pause, "I'll say this though, I'll look you in the eye when you finish, cause when you finish, they ain't gonna let you touch me. Whatever you do, I'll just look right at you and grin." "They can't watch you twenty-four seven brain child." "It ain't me they'll be watchin'." Dax whispered to Ty the night before--the cages were close enough together to allow that. Dax said their punishment was going to be enough, that as soon as their mates had had their way with the two, the attention would shift to the mates. It was possible that the mates would want to continue the retribution after the time allotted, but if they were caught, Dax and Ty would at the very least get to witness the punishment for that infraction. "Why?" Ty wanted to know. He knew Dax was smarter than he, but it just didn't make sense. "This place would come tumbling down if we started fighting amongst ourselves. All things considered, there isn't that much different between love and fighting." All of this wasn't making the ordeal easier to get through, but Ty had even less trepidation than he might have had without Dax's comments. He believed Dax understood the inner workings, but more than that, he still loved him and would likely have believed anything he was told. DJ's job was to be brutal. He was to scream orders at the slaves, get in their faces basically like a drill instructor. Buck ordered him to lay lashes on heavily and hard. He could use his discretion with Ty: he could purposely go easier on him and make sure the others knew it, he could be harsher, or treat him no differently. DJ had no specific plan as to which direction to go. He decided to let circumstance and emotion guide. This was an inconvenience to him. He didn't mind overseeing slaves, but since becoming a hand, his contact with slaves had been almost entirely sexual. But here he was under the proscription that these slaves could not be used sexually at all. Fucking them was of course impossible, but he wasn't even allowed to order them to suck him off. So, as can be imagined, he put the extra frustration into each swing of his flogger. One exchange can stand as example of the whole: "Faster you piece of shit!" "Sir yes sir." "You got to be more careful, you got cow shit on my boots faggot!" "Sir sorry sir." "Don't just stand there, lick it clean." DJ lashed the exposed back as the whimpering slave licked the dust from his boots. He made one slave do 20 pushups into a pile of dung he dropped when DJ lashed him to a trot. Face full of shit on each down stroke, a lash on an already tender back on each up stroke. Starting the cart was a particular joy. It was heavy enough on its own, but starting it the first couple of times wasn't too difficult. For those DJ didn't prod with his whip too much. But as the cart began to fill, and as the two slaves began to tire, DJ became increasingly sadistic. He would not focus entirely on their backs, but would also lash legs and even front torso once or twice. When they struggled, rather than get others to help, he would climb on the buckboard himself, adding an extra 170 pounds to their load. Their turn at the yoke lasted half the day. All the slaves broke for lunch. This was a break of 5 minutes. They were served in the same bowls they had all seen as honeyboys. The chow was similar, but wasn't the same; it was thicker and required more chewing, which became a problem given the time limit. After the five minutes, the six slaves were ordered up. The two slaves who brought the food and the bowls were ordered off. "Now. Some of you might think you can hold your shit until they let you out. No doubt you would all try if you could. But you can't. You have until dinner to start filling those diapers. Any slave not wearing his shit by dinner gets another day in it and gets 50 lashes. Now back to picking up shit, fuckers." He moved two others to the cart and had Ty and Pete start picking up the dung. Probably as much for spite as anything else, Ty stayed defiantly close to Pete. He carried his load to the cart and returned almost in timed step with his adversary. While it might have had the macho effect of telling Pete that he wasn't scaring Ty, it also had the effect of pissing Pete off immensely. His simmering attitude didn't manifest until just a few minutes before dinner. Something as degrading as this treatment tended to focus a slave's mind on the smallest portion of his environment and himself as possible. With someone screaming at you and whipping you to perform the disgusting task faster, your mind will not wander much in the direction of your fellows. Each slave had shit the diaper before the designated time. As DJ realized one slave had, he would put his hand directly under the asshole and move the pile upwards, saying, "Stupid fucking slaves, all forget to wipe after you shit." One slave nearly cried. Pete would never react in such a pathetic way. Ty had taken everything Dax whispered to him to heart. Primarily, Dax told him, he was to do whatever he was ordered; he warned Ty against being bold telling him that it was probable that Pete would continue to be punished for whatever behavior Ty exhibited that wasn't contrite. So, he shit his diaper only minutes after DJ made his speech. Pete's mind was on himself when DJ performed his little piece of brilliant humiliation on Ty who just said, Sir yes sir and went about his task. Pete didn't react so stoically either. DJ repeated his statement about slaves forgetting to wipe. As the warm and awful mass spread upwards and outwards against Pete's ass, Pete bolted for Ty. Pete had landed two punches-one to the gut, one to the face-before the stunned DJ was able to close the distance. He immediately threw a short, forceful blow to Pete's kidney which sent him crashing to the ground. He struggled as much from hatred as from the limited but nonetheless temporarily crippling punch. Both Ty and Pete were panting, each had had his breath knocked from him. Pete was kneeling, head against the dusty ground, trying to get up. DJ stomped over and put his boot to the back of Pete's neck, locking him in his supplicant position. He ordered Ty over to him. DJ examined Ty's cheek, it was beginning to swell, but did not appear to be broken. "We'll have the doc look at that when you get back to the cages tonight. Get back to picking up shit boy." He said nothing to Pete. He removed his boot and grabbed Pete's collar and started dragging him. Pete struggled to get up, but spent most of his time sort of flailing to keep up so his wind wouldn't be cut off. Once they were beyond earshot, DJ let go. Pete was panting again and holding his neck; drool collected in a little puddle. "Pete, listen to me. That was the boneheadest thing you could have done." He said this as a friend. They knew each other by name and sight, had fucked a couple of times a year before. His tone wasn't that of DI or master but of a frustrated friend. "There ain't no way I can ignore this. I don't know what Buck'll do, but I have to do something so I don't wind up wearing a diaper too. All you have to do is keep your head down for two more days, then it will all be over." "I can't last two more minutes, let alone two more days." It was more fatigued than angry. "You can't beat the shit out of him when this is over 'less you can. Listen. Tell you what I'll do, but if you say anything, I'll fuck you up. I'll pretty much stay off your back, not whip you or yell too much. I have to do something about you attacking Ty though. After that, I'll pretty much leave you alone." Pause. "You think you can handle that, or do you want out?" "Fuck I don't know." Pause. "Hell, I'm in it this far, I might as well try." He led Pete back towards the crew. He could see the two slaves with dinner approaching from the opposite direction. What DJ had in mind for Pete would be something Pete might despise worse than a flogging, but it would give him some time alone and at relative peace. But it would have to wait until after dinner. He watched them all eat. The smell from each began to become more noticeable in the stagnant air. Sweat, piss, bovine and human shit mixed, but each smell was still distinguishable. He watched them scarf the chow. He knew from memory that the chow had basically no taste, sort of like completely plain oatmeal. He knew from experience that it filled the stomach, then the bowels quickly and largely. DJ could not fathom how that much shit was going to fit into the diapers that appeared to have no more room in them than a pair of briefs just a size or so too large. "A'ite faggots, stand up." They did. "Obviously I can't let what Pete did go without making him pay. You all may wished you were him. I got to make sure you don't follow his lead. Pete, you spend the rest of the night in the shit cart." "What!?" Pete couldn't believe what he heard. "Slave you don't address me like that. You do it now or I'll flog you til I think you have had enough." "Sir yes sir," through tightly clinched teeth. "Rest of y'all get back to it, you all smell like shit, I don't want you anywhere near me." Pete walked slowly over to the cart. He climbed in it and sat on the back of it, legs hanging off. DJ went to the cart to tie the two slaves pulling it. "That ain't gonna cut it and you know it, shitass." "You said you would . . . " Pete began. "Keep it down, man. This is going easy on you." "You call this easy?" "Pete your back still looks pretty bad, I know if I lay it on you so that Buck would not be pissed at me, you'd never make it to the end of this. I know it sucks, but that's just the way it is. You want out?" "Please DJ, please don't make me do this." He was almost whimpering. "Pete, this is you or me time and I know who is most important to me. When Buck sees what you did to that dumb shit, he'll want to know what I did to you. If he ain't happy with what I say, I could wind up next to you." "Fine with me." "Hey, take it or leave it, but if you don't lay face first in that muck, I will have to whip you." "Goddamn it." Pause. "How long until we go back?" "Just before sundown. Take a nap." "Take a nap? Fuck it, just whip me and get it over with." "OK if you are serious." "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I can't take any more leather on my back. They are going to have to peal me off that son of a bitch." "Believe me, this isn't as bad as being whipped with anything this soon after a horse whipping." "Whatever. You might know that, but I doubt you know what it's like to try to take a nap in cow shit." "Pete, how do you think I thought of it?" The remaining three hours passed without incident. Pete was able to take a nap, a nap that didn't require trying of any kind. This was the first sleep in more than two days in a stretched out position. He had been exhausted from the constant pointless and disgusting labor. The smell of the dung was awful, but as with just about anything, he began to grow a little accustomed to it. It probably wouldn't have mattered since he wasn't prone more than a few minutes before he was entirely asleep. The sun was nearly set. DJ untied the cart slaves, woke Pete and called the rest over. He chained them all together with Pete directly in front of Ty so Ty would get the full effect of Pete's odors. He led them the half mile or so back to the cages. He put each in front of his own cage, left mercilessly in the same shit littered condition. Buck came with the doctor to inspect. "What happened to this slave?" Buck asked. "Sir that slave sucker punched him sir." "Jesus." Buck said reacting to the smell. "I think I can guess what you did to make him pay." DJ was very nervous that Buck would disapprove of the punishment as somehow unfitting, but Buck simply walked off leaving the doctor to his task. The doctor wore a sterile face mask quite literally for the smell. He checked out Pete's back that was still marked, but had no evidence of either infection or open wounds. He gingerly prodded Ty's cheekbone. Ty winced but said nothing. He showed no signs that the bone was broken and there also appeared to be no damage to his eye. He would have a shiner, but it would pass leaving no scar. His back though caused some concern. DJ showed no deference to Ty's wounds. Some of the lashes he laid on caused some of the tender new skin to split. There was some small trickles of blood. The doctor cleaned the wounds with some peroxide and applied an antibiotic. "Try to focus on his legs tomorrow, or at least aim your whip at the small of his back where there is less damage." The doctor said to DJ. DJ simply nodded. The doctor had to say that, but DJ was under no obligation to follow the doctor's wishes. He would treat Ty as he saw fit. DJ was willing to take a dressing down for being too severe with the little turd; he was unwilling to take it easy on him. It had very little to do with fear of appearing to be lax. He didn't know Ty at all. He knew he had seen Ty as a honeyboy, but not from memory, only from the simple fact that he knew roughly when Ty would have performed that role. What he did feel, what compelled him against any notion of charity, was the chaos he caused. DJ didn't just like the world he was in; and in a strange sense, he didn't love it either. He built for himself, in his mind and heart, a specific joy that this place alone allowed him. [It might sound like a cult, and could in some senses be viewed as such. And while the mechanisms that create moonies isn't too different from the one here, the effect is quite different.] Were it not for this ranch, he would still have been going from bar to bar in town to town to try to find someone to misuse him. He didn't want misuse alone; he didn't want someone who would shout commands until he came and then just left him to his own imaginings. DJ saw Ty as a threat not to his world as much as his sense of joy. Attack a man's world and he will retaliate, attack a man's joy and he will seek revenge. Tails Billy led his boys through the center of the corn and soybean plots. He walked them slowly and called to each section to come witness the procession. The field slaves saw six of their number chained in a line, all wearing diapers. No one laughed nor said a word. Some smiled in an almost embarrassed way at the obvious humiliation. The task for these boys wasn't as smelly as for the others, but what it lacked in odor, it was designed to make up for in intensity. They too were led to a wagon. In the back of it was 6 shovels. "Y'all see that square staked out?" Billy pointed at a 12' square section of dry dirt marked with string. "Y'all have to dig a hole three feet deep, straight on the edges and flat on the bottom." He removed the chains between the collars and handed each slave a shovel. "You load the dirt in here, when it's full up, y'all pull it over yonder and empty it." Billy lined them up on one side of the square; the open bed of the wagon was facing them. He had them all stand at attention while he explained. "This has to be done by tomorrow lunchtime. If you ain't done enough tonight by quittin' time, then you won't quit. Any of you pieces of trash hold out on filling that fucking diaper past dinnertime will earn lashes and earn everyone an extra day." Each slave was given his ordinal number from left to right. Billy intended the six to function like pistons. Odd numbers forcing the shovels down as the evens tossed their shovel-loads into the bed of the wagon. Billy came to the ranch from the Marines. He was court-martialed and given a dishonorable discharge after he had been involved in one too many fights. He responded quite well to his treatment in the brig in the sense that he really enjoyed it. He thought the Marines would mold him so that he could focus his aggression. Instead it gave him a regimen that helped enhance it. So he didn't become a better man through becoming a good soldier; he became a more effective fighter, but no more effective at picking which fights to pursue. Buck indicated that the ranch operated under no legal restrictions and promised Billy that if he responded well, that he would earn fast promotion. He did. He became a trustee within six months and a hand a year later. He was easily the most forceful of the hands and had more public floggings than any other hand or trustee for being unnecessarily cruel. Here he was under no such prohibition. "A'ite. You all have to perform in rhythm. Any of you odds fuck up, all odds get whipped. You all have to have a full shovel-load each time. If I see you shirking there, then you will unload the wagon back into the hole and start again." He led them on a slow drill of how to perform the task. Spade straight down, right foot forcing it all the way down, tilt the handle back, lift, toss. This would be fairly easy in typical soil, but this hard scrabble was exactly that. Part two took the longest time for them to get through. All but the largest slave, Aaron, felt a couple of lashes from Billy's flogger. It required that they almost jump on the top of the spade itself to get it deep enough into the ground for Billy's tastes. This was going to be jarring work. Once they knew the routine, he began the cadence they were to use as a metronome to keep time: I don't know but I been told If I ain't no good I'll be sold XXXXXXX XXXXXXX Aaron fell into an easy rhythm and monotoned the humiliating cadence without feeling. This was a cakewalk in comparison to lashes with a horsewhip. He could hear Billy walking behind them tapping time with a riding crop against his boots. Click, CLICK, click, CLICK. He could tell where he was in the line by the sound. When he knew Billy was walking the other direction, he looked over at the other slaves. What was fairly easy for him was a bit more difficult for the others, and was particularly difficult for Dax. Dax was the smallest and had to jump a little higher than the rest to get the shovel into the earth. Aaron knew that there were going to be more lashes in his future because he was number one, Dax was number three. He figured rightly that this was by design. Odds and evens were given breaks lasting about two minutes every twenty to get some water. "You probably guessed you ain't going to have the time to shit while you're shoveling, so I suggest you do it at these breaks, unless you want to spend another day in my company." "How you holding up?" Aaron whispered to Dax. Billy was busy making sure the evens kept time, and would only turn back to the odds when their time was up. "Alright I guess." He was suspicious of what he saw as kindness. "I just don't want any more lashes, you think you can keep this going?" "What else am I going to do?" As much truth as resignation, but he did manage a small smile. Aaron smiled the same way in return. He didn't hate Dax for the mess he had caused. His goal now was to last this out and return to normal. He came to the ranch with the second most common story. The first is, of course, leaving an abusive "master" type who was poorly chosen. A close second is leaving an abusive home. Aaron craved two things, to be treated as a slave, and to have a sense of normalcy. He didn't consider what he received on the ranch as abuse. He saw it as necessary to achieve both of his desires. If asked he would not be able to say, if pressed he would be no more likely to know whether or not his abusive situation made him want to be a slave, or if that factor would have existed regardless of the situation. At this point it didn't matter. The simple fact was that he loved to be verbally assaulted and whipped on occasion. He loved the quick mostly dry fucks his mates gave him. He craved more of it and would resist any attempts at getting him out of the fields. Even after over a year of this, his cock was still semi hard and dripping most of the time in the fields. He could hear others getting punished and it would carry him to a near ecstatic reverie that was bested only by being the recipient of the punishment. Until the horsewhipping Dax instigated, he hadn't faced anything at the ranch he wouldn't want to repeat. In addition to keeping time by slapping his crop against a boot, he would do it by whipping a sagging slave. They were to do all they could to function as a unit, so it wasn't always quickly apparent which one of them was causing the slow-down. Billy was cruel, but he was also picky. He wanted to do what he could to make sure he identified the right one. Once he was sure he had the slacker, he would have them stop their cadence. Then he would stand behind the slow one and bring the crop down on his left shoulder, then his right shoulder. The slave would then yell out a number one for left two for right. "Shit boy, I done whipped your back enough, I'm going to have to switch to your legs." Billy said to the slave between Aaron and Dax. "Please sir, please don't move to my legs." "I'm not working any deals for a slave who has to carry his own shit around with him." Billy moved the action to the boy's thighs, varying outside with straight shots to keep the boy off balance. The pitch of his counting rose in pitch and Billy kept the pace going for roughly fifteen minutes. He only broke because the two slaves arrived with lunch. The slaves scarffed the food as starved dogs would and not looking too dissimilar. These slaves were given some time to digest, on Buck's orders. The heads slaves' task was disgusting but not particularly strenuous. They all rested on their knees, hands held behind them, foreheads against the dry clay. Billy saw Dax's stomach straining. This was followed by some sounds muffled by the diaper, then by a smell. He walked over to Dax and used his boot to rub the shit against its owners ass. "Don't forget to wipe slave." He said. Dax muttered his sir yes sir into the ground. "The rest of you might want to go ahead and get it over with if you can." It wasn't a direct command, but it was close enough for all but one of them to follow as if it had been. At least this way they could convince themselves they had been ordered to do it rather than subject themselves to choosing the time for this rare humiliation. It offered them an excuse. Aaron was the one who couldn't. His bowels were frozen and he ran cold at the thought they would stay that way. Buck went to each slave and used his boot to massage in the newly collected pile. "Man, I don't know if I can stand two more days of this, I don't know if I can take your smell for even the rest of today. Damn, what some of you do to food is criminal." Billy laughed. Their rest period over, they got back to shoveling. The rest seemed to do more of a trick than the lash did at keeping them at a decent pace. They would shovel about a foot deep trench then move backwards from there. About an hour after they picked up again, it was time to haul the dirt. The two largest slaves stood at the crossbar, the other four were at the back pushing from there. Billy focused most his lashes on the two at the front. "Come on slave, more slave, push harder slave." They weren't words of encouragement, they were hurled with ire and punctuated with a lash to the upper back or the thighs. He resorted to the flogger a couple of times when the wagon began to slow. Aaron was nearly in tears when they reached the spot where Billy said stop. He was drooling and snot was running loosely from his nose. Billy noticed and smiled at the straining slave. This was what he wanted them all to look like by the middle of tomorrow. He ordered the slaves to shovel the dirt out until it was about half emptied, then he had them tip it on its axle to dump out the rest. Coming back he had the two who strained so hard up front walk behind the empty wagon with the other four pushing from the crossbar. Aaron walked back trying hard to open his bowels. He was literally scared shitless. He would have laughed at the notion if it didn't have serious repercussions. He worked his stomach in short bursts to try to force anything out-sort of like pissing in public for those who have that particular performance anxiety (if you can get it started, gravity and laws of fluid dynamics take care of the rest). This fear continued for another few hours. He kept his eye on the direction dinner would arrive from and did what he could to force himself to shit. Finally he saw the pair appear. He started to panic which only seemed to make the situation worse. Fear spread up from his clinched asshole upwards until it hit his diaphragm; his whole abdomen was paralyzed. Billy noticed the look on Aaron's face change from distant discomfort to active dread. He said deliberately and slowly into Aaron's ear, "I got no trouble putting you through another day married to your own shit." Aaron stopped with his shovel half submerged and emptied his ass into his diaper in one quick, painful motion; he grimaced and yelped a little, but didn't lose pace with his fellows. Billy smiled when he kneed the newest load back up towards its creator. "Damn, I don't know which I prefer, putting you through this for another day, or scaring the shit out of you." He was pleased with his own sophomoric cleverness. The sun touched the horizon and Billy called a halt for the night. He reattached the chains and led them back through the fields to the cages behind the barn. Buck inspected them as he had the heads group that was already caged. He nodded at Billy who then walked off towards the bunkhouse. Buck locked the cages for the tails slaves and walked off too. It didn't take long for all but Dax and Ty to be asleep. It was difficult for Dax to stay awake, but they agreed the night before to stay awake long enough to check on each other. "You doing alright?" Ty whispered to Dax who was obviously fighting sleep. "Dog tired." "What they got you doin'? They got us picking up cowshit by hand and cartin' it around." "Um . . . we're digging a hole." "Is that all?" He was obviously angry at what he saw as the grossest inequity he had ever known. "Ty, I would trade with you right now if I could. I have never felt this tired before and we have to do it again tomorrow, I don't know how I can. Just let me sleep." Ty didn't say anything, but watched as Dax fell asleep. Once his anger cooled he realized that Dax's group came back in an almost sleepwalk. They didn't smell as bad, but they looked far worse than his own crew. Maybe he wouldn't want to trade with Dax if given the choice now that he thought about it. Remaining Days Breakfast on each day was at the cages. The heads group walked without audience towards their task. Billy announced again to all along the path that they needed to get a good smell of his parade so they wouldn't be tempted to the same sort of behavior that led to it. Again, some smiled a prurient grin, but none laughed. The remaining days were intended for reinforcement. The task was painful or disgusting, but could be quickly adjusted to for all the slaves involved. Buck determined that three days was the right number. Two days was too short for those really used to humiliation and discomfort. Four days or more would have caused an even more serious disruption to the normal workings, and would have resulted in the victims beginning to find a way to grow accustomed to the new situation. Three days was more than enough for all but the most extreme, and Buck did what he could to make sure that type didn't stick around the ranch long-those too extreme to come to heel after this treatment would pose the same kind of disruptive cancer to the ranch as the relationship between Dax and Ty. The twelve realized after the first morning that smell would be the least of their bothers. Itching would. Depending on several factors, a rash would begin by the morning of the second day. It would rise to irritating burn throughout, and by about halfway through the last day, it would be at a level of intensity that would be more distracting than any number of lashes. Not to forget that scratching not only made it worse, but it was a disgusting task in itself. Billy's boys completed the hole a few hours prior to the halfway point. He had achieved his goal of having all six slaves slack-jawed and drooling. They no longer needed the cadence as a reminder of their station nor as a way of keeping time. What he did when they returned was more for him than anything else; if any of them retained even slave's dignity after the first day, Billy's actions would have erased it. He lined them up against one wall of their hole and he stood in the middle. He removed his shorts and emptied his bladder and bowels easily. "See what I can do because I know what's what? I can shit and piss and leave it behind. I can even do this." He grabbed his fat cut cock and jerked off without haste. He squirt his load and pulled up his shorts. "Ain't none of you worthless shit-wearing slaves gonna get near my cock." Now their task was to reverse course exactly. They had to haul the dirt back the quarter mile and fill in the latrine they just had finished just a few minutes before. Billy looked, but could see no hint of anger in his six slaves. They knew from head to toe that they had been beaten. All twelve had one more night to go through. The seventy-second hour wouldn't be until morning. They were all past caring. The burning had become constant, but the fatigue was even greater. They didn't sleep well, but they did sleep. Cutting Aaron alone seemed aware that this was the morning he would be free from his shit. He was the only one who stood fully at attention when let out of the cage. Buck ordered them to the back of the barn. Dax and Ty stayed back while the others assumed the frisk position with hands against the barn. Buck handed a knife to Dax and Ty who were instructed to cut the diapers off their fellows. "Just slit it up one side and don't cut any of them." Pete, or any of them who might have been ignited to have hatred as deep as Pete, might have moved to attack Dax or Ty, but with them armed, they stood their ground, still, calm. The knives were sharp enough to slice through the cloth fairly quickly. The diapers remained stuck to the wearers after Ty and Dax retreated back to give Buck their knives. "Alright guys, peal the things off and leave them at your feet. These two will collect them." The movement was stiff, but as quick as all could manage. They reassumed the position. Where the diaper had been, they had a thick patina of offal that retained the shape and outline of the diaper. Dax and Ty retrieved the diapers, walked to the cages, and put them in front of his own cage. Billy, who was standing near the barn with a hose, squirted a firm, but not painful, stream of water at the standing slaves. It took only a couple of minutes to remove the shit from the posteriors, so all slaves were ordered to about face. Another couple of minutes and the 10 stood soaked, but free from their own waste for the first time in three days. Some began to scratch their asses. The area was red and a bit bumpy. It looked like a slight sunburn mixed with a serious attack of redbugs. The doctors on hand ordered them to stop scratching. This was the most difficult command any of them faced lately. The doctors then squirted a dollop of ointment into both hands of the fidgeting men. "Rub that in, don't scratch at all, and just let me know if you need more." The feeling of relief was nearly immediate. Smiles all around. Dax and Ty saw the look of calm and fatigue and joy come over their mates. They were too tired and irritated to register any further insults, direct or otherwise. Billy led the slaves off in a new direction. They went in the direction Sam had come from nearly a week before. Buck turned his attentions to Ty and Dax briefly. He ordered them to put the diapers on top of their cages, then they were locked inside. "Look across at the boy in the other cage and remember that it is because of him that you are where you are. I'll be back soon to make sure neither of you forget that." Buck walked toward where Billy and the slaves went. Something Unreal a la Sun City Sam was sitting in a chair next to the pool when the party arrived. Billy, Buck, two doctors, and the ten slaves gathered around him. "I might be the last person you ever want to see again. Commending you for lasting would be an insult that no slave of mine should ever suffer-I do have my limits. For the next two days, this is home. You'll sleep in the pool house. Food and drinks will be provided. There are showers in the pool house, I suggest you use them frequently. Swim as you like, sleep as you like. Rest. Follow the orders of the doctors." The look he gave them said he wouldn't entertain questions. He then smiled and retreated into the house. Buck said, "If any of you say word one about this, you will be removed from the ranch. Other than that, I will only repeat what Sam said; rest, do what the doctors tell you." He and Billy departed the way they came. The doctors took the dumfounded ten towards the pool house. Before anything else, they each needed a shower. Cages "You doing ok?" Dax asked. "I'll make it, you?" "I'll make it." They stared at each other. Neither could read in the other what they wanted. Each wanted to know if it was safe to ask the obvious question, neither saw that it was. They didn't see loathing in their lover's eyes, they saw fear. Neither considered it safe to ask. "You ready for your last day?" Buck asked; his tone was flat, implying no heat, no sarcasm.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch.3 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 3 By MaineBoyXY@aol.com Someone was stroking my cheek. My eyelids fluttered open, and my eyes focused on Ryan looking at my face. My first thought was one of complete shock; it only took about a second for me to remember where I was and why -- I felt a familiar feeling of dried cum on my body and a completely new feeling, a dull throb, in my ass. I still tasted his cum, faintly. My face must have registered my alarm, because his initial easy smile quickly clouded over. "Yeah, it wasn't a nightmare, jock boy," he frowned. "What time is it?" "It's about 11," he answered. I looked to the window because the overhead lights were on and the room was bright. Still dark, so I hadn't been gone all night. "I have to go home," I told him. My parents didn't bitch a lot about me being out, but they hadn't gotten home when I left and I hadn't left them a note about where I'd be or when I'd get back. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen Ryan's parents, or anyone else, and that he didn't seem to be worried about us being caught in bed together. Hell, he hadn't even told me to shut the bedroom door behind me when we had come up from the kitchen. His eyes searched mine and then scanned my face. "You liked getting it up the ass, Alex. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you did." He rolled away from me and sat up. His mood was completely different from just a few hours earlier. His arrogance was gone. I watched him put on his glasses and then slip his feet into his briefs and pull them up to his waist as he stood. He walked over to his desk and switched on the computer. He sat in his padded desk chair and never looked towards me. "There's a bathroom directly across the hall. You're going to want to shower because you're covered in my cum...and yours." I extracted myself from the crust that connected me to the mattress. Each move of my thighs deepened the ache in my asshole, and when I sat on the edge of the bed it felt like I had a ping-pong ball fixed just outside my opening. As I stood and walked to the bedroom doorway, I glanced over at Ryan to see if he was checking me out while I was naked, but his eyes never left the monitor. I crossed the hall, entered the bathroom, and was confronted by yet another elegantly designed facility. Like the bathroom of a New York penthouse, there was a walk-in shower in one corner and a whirlpool bath in another. Perpendicular to these on one wall was a long double vanity the mirrors over which reflected the toilet and a bidet. I took a towel from the deeply varnished linen cabinet that stood between the shower and the whirlpool, stepped into the shower, and turned it on. The streams hit me on all sides as three shower heads began to spray warm water. Just the water felt wonderful, and I don't know how long I stood under it before I lathered up to rid myself of the vestiges of Ryan's orgasms and my own. After rinsing, I stayed under the water still longer, wondering how many times I would have to relive this night before Ryan decided I'd had enough and cut me loose. I thought for a moment that it might not be so bad; the orgasm I'd had tonight had definitely been the best ever. I quickly shook that thought from my head, turned off the water, stepped out, and toweled off. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I walked back into Ryan's bedroom, but he wasn't there. I saw my clothes on the desk where I'd left them and began to get dressed. When I'd finished, I walked over to Ryan's bookshelf and looked over the countless volumes that filled it. A lot were math and physics and computer science books: imaginary numbers, Stephen Hawking, UNIX. Some were classics, like Robert Louis Stevenson, and even a three-part collection of The Divine Comedy. I wondered just how many of the books Ryan had actually read and just how smart he really was. I went over to his windows and looked out. I put my face to the glass and shielded the overhead light out with my hands. There were no exterior lights on, so I couldn't see anything. From the orientation of the room against the stairs and what I'd seen of the ground floor, I guessed his room overlooked the back yard. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I didn't think I should go roaming the house to find Ryan. He'd been pretty dismissive about my wanting to leave and about telling me to shower. In a way, I figured I was lucky he didn't make me stay, or worse, kick me out to go home covered in dried cum. With nothing left to do, I turned, left his room, and made my way back downstairs. As I reached the foot of the stairway and the foyer, I saw it. He'd hung my shirt, the one I'd used to cheat on Mrs. Gresham's exam, on the knob of the front door. I stared at it in disbelief. One night? That was all? I looked around. "Ryan?" I called out. All I heard was silence. I looked around the hallway corner back to the kitchen. Nothing. I grabbed my shirt, walked out the front door, and drove home. *** I woke up hard. Rock hard. I reached down into my boxers and fished out my cock, and as I began to slide my hand up and down my shaft, I couldn't help but remember what had occurred the night before. I tried to shake off the memory, and thought back to the cheerleader I had been seeing until we broke up at Thanksgiving. I focused on the feel of her breasts, and how my cock felt when I slid it inside her. Somehow, though, it just didn't work out. I couldn't keep the echoes of Ryan's cock plowing my ass from creeping in. Every time I thought of cumming in that cheerleader, I recalled the explosive orgasm I'd had while I had been fucked. Frustrated, I got out of bed. I walked over to my desk in the corner where my computer was booted and ready. I signed onto my ISP and began to cruise some of my bookmarked porn sites. Hot girls, big tits, facials. I looked at some of the girls with cum on their faces, and I was again taken back to the previous night. How had I looked when, after I'd sucked him off, Ryan dipped his own cum from my mouth with his cock and smeared it on my face? My wood was subsiding a little, but my horniness wasn't. Suddenly, I had a thought. I keyed the URL for my favorite search engine, and looked for a reverse phone directory. Finding one, I used the address to Ryan's house to find his number. I stared at the screen. I looked at the shirt peeking out of my basket of dirty laundry, the shirt that had gotten me into all this mess. I looked back at the screen. I thought back to the waves of electricity that had surged through my entire body as Ryan had found the spot inside my ass over and over again. My dick throbbed. I drummed my fingers on the desktop and bit my lip indecisively. I couldn't call him. What would I say? I wasn't gay. I mean, I couldn't be. I'd fucked girls, I was a jock, I was popular. But the fact remained that being fucked up the ass was the hottest thing I'd ever had done to me. I sure as hell wasn't going to admit that to anyone who didn't know it. Ryan knew it already; "You liked getting it up the ass, Alex. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you did." His words burned into my brain. He was right. I closed my eyes and closed my hand around my cock again. I slid my ass off the edge of the chair slightly, and reached under my balls with my free hand. I began to stroke my still slightly sore asshole through my underwear with my middle fingertip while I beat off through my fly. What the hell was happening to me? I didn't know, and really, I didn't care. I let my mind wander freely back to being fucked and how it had felt. I even returned to sucking Ryan's cock and the taste of his cum in my mouth, the feeling of his spunk drying on my face. At last, I blew a long, hard load up onto my chest. Hell, some of it almost hit my chin. I looked down at the ropes of glimmering pearl jam. How did mine taste, compared to Ryan's? A couple of girls knew what mine tasted like from blowing me, but I didn't. For a minute, it occurred to me that it might be sick to taste my own jizz, but hell, I'd tasted another guy's, hadn't I? Not only that, but the memory of sucking and having cum shot into my mouth was partly responsible for the load I was wearing. I lifted my slickened hand to my mouth and tentatively licked at the slime that covered my fingers. It was salty and bleachy like Ryan's, but something was missing. I didn't know what it was. Curiosity piqued, I deliberately sucked my hand dry. I still couldn't figure out why my cum would taste different from his, or what the difference in the taste was exactly. Before I realized what I was doing, I had scooped up all the cum from my chest and fed it to myself. Fuck! I'd blown my load thinking about being a cocksucker and drinking semen, about taking cock and sperm up my ass! And now I'd finished eating that same load from off my own body. I felt disgusted with myself. I raised my eyes from my softened cock and now relatively clean chest, and I saw Ryan's phone number on the monitor, waiting for me. Beckoning to me. I stared at it again. In seconds, my disgust completely faded. It had been transformed into a new emotion, one equally powerful and definitely more dangerous: lust. I wanted Ryan to fuck me again. I didn't know why, and I didn't care how. I grabbed a pencil from the desk drawer and scrawled the number on a pad. I'd just jerked off, but as I stood up and headed to the bathroom to shower, I felt the blood flowing back into my dick. I beat off again in the shower, and this time I let my cum wash down the drain. The second orgasm helped clear my mind, and I got dressed and went about my day, running to the mall and getting some Christmas presents. By mid-afternoon, I'd finished my shopping for the day, the horniness was back, and I could feel my cock stirring in my pants. I was in my bedroom, stashing my cache of family presents where they wouldn't be found by my mom. For some reason, probably some subconscious imperative, my eyes flickered over my desk and caught Ryan's number, which I'd scribbled in the morning. Impulsively, I picked up my phone and dialed. I didn't even think. Not about why I was calling or what I would say. "Hello?" It was his voice. I didn't know what to say. I sat there, like an obscene caller, saying nothing. His voice had frozen me -- a deer in headlights all over again. "Hello?!" he repeated. "Ryan?" I asked needlessly. "Yeah. Who is this?" "It's, uh... It's Alex." There was a pause. "What do you want? You've got your shirt back." "Uh, I was wondering. About last night..." I started. It was a good effort, but I had no idea where I was going. I trailed off mid-sentence and there was silence from his end. And then I heard it, the change in his voice, and his new tone. Well, not his new tone, but the arrogant, commanding, condescending tone he'd last used while we were in his bedroom. "You mean, you were wondering about how I fucked you up the ass, Alex? You were wondering about how you kneeled in front of me and sucked the cum from my cock? Is that what you mean?" I turned crimson, and I almost slammed down the phone. "Are you wondering whether I'll fuck you again, Alex? Is that what you were wondering?" His words pierced me. Just hearing the question made my cock balloon into full erection. My throat went dry. How did he know? Did it matter? He was right; that was exactly what I was wondering. "Yes," I whispered, as if my voice had a mind of its own, just like my cock. "What was that? I didn't hear you." "I said, `Yes.'" I repeated quietly. "'Yes,' what, Alex? Tell me." "Yes, I was wondering if you'd fuck me again," I stammered. I didn't understand why I was saying it. I mean, it was true, but why was I telling him? How was he pulling this information from me, almost as if he'd taken possession of my thoughts? Was it the tone of his voice? Was it the mesmerizing way he kept repeating my name? I didn't know how, but he was definitely taking possession. I hadn't been able to get off without thinking about him, and just hearing him again filled me with lust. I was in a trance. "Yeah, I might. I might fuck your ass for you, if you really want me to. But I think you're probably going to have to work for it." "Work for it?" I was startled and it shook me back to consciousness. "Work for it how?" "Well, we'll think of something once you get over here. I think you should come now." My cock surged. "OK, I'll leave right now." "Good boy. Oh, and make sure you've made the arrangements to spend the night here." "What?!" I was definitely not prepared for that. "Well, this is something you want, right? After all, if you want my sweet cock up your ass, we want to be able to take our time, don't we? To make sure it's good for you. To make sure you're satisfied." "There's a party at Russ Smith's tonight," I countered. "I'm supposed to go." "Well, you're not going. But I bet that party will make a great excuse for you to be out all night tonight, won't it, Alex?" "Yeah, I guess so," I gave in. I was supposed to go to the party, and I had been looking forward to it. Russ gave awesome parties with lots of hot girls who loved jocks. I probably wouldn't score, but chances are I'd meet someone I could hook up with over next semester, since the deal with the cheerleader had ended at Thanksgiving. But I wanted to try this ass fucking again, because I couldn't get it out my mind. It would be worth missing the party for this. He'd throw another one at New Year's, or if he didn't, one of my other friends would. "Then get the fuck over here, bitch," he smirked, and hung up the phone. I listened to the dial tone. My cock raged, and when I reached down to adjust it, I could feel the wetness of precum that it had oozed. I hung up the phone, scribbled a note to my parents that I'd be staying over at Russ's after the party, and hopped into my car. Author's Note: Without being overly effusive, I'd like to thank those who have emailed their constructive comments about this story. I apologize to those to whom my reponses may have seemed terse, but I've been getting a lot more mail than I had anticipated and, rather than spend my allotted writing time with replies, I felt that continuing the story would probably be better appreciated by all. I apologize also to anyone who feels cheated that there isn't more sex in this chapter; I assure you it's made up for in Chapter Four. Publication of chapters after Chapter Four will be dictated by the time I have available and reader interest. Thanks also to the Archivist, for his patience with my story, and to those who financially support the Archive in ways college students often cannot. To the many who have asked: this story is fiction - but the best fiction arises from embellishment of truth.

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Date: Thu, 25 Jul 2002 03:44:56 +0100 (BST) From: Jon Himus Subject: Drunk to Fuck DRUNK TO FUCK By JonH jhimuswrite@yahoo.co.uk Sometimes after I've got down on my knee's and sucked a blokes cock I get this surge of power inside me, I don't know what it is but sometimes I feel really in control of the situation even if I'm the one giving head. The one time I had no control left me feeling like a piece of dirt but somehow whenever I think about it my cock stirs in my pants. For extra cash I do three nights as a drinks waiter at a function centre and the night I'm talking about was an end of season social for a local rugby club. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like football players but I'm not an idiot, I know that they're straight and I wasn't gonna act like some fool and get myself into trouble or fired so I kept it professional and concentrated only on the (huge) drinks orders I was taking to the tables. The function was due to finish up at 1:00 a.m, at ten to one most of the parents and club officials were making their way drunkenly out the doors but most of the players seemed happy to keep on going. Despite what I told myself I couldn't help having the odd look at a few of the players, I figured they were so drunk they wouldn't notice and for the most part they didn't. One of the loudest tables was the one full of the players from the open age division, basically this division had players 21 years and up and it was while taking an order to them (beer) that I saw this one guy who was well and truly rat assed. He had a babyish looking face on a huge, heavy body. I guessed he didn't have a girlfriend as he was wearing track pants and a rugby top, he was there to drink and I guess not much else. The shouting was so loud every time I took them a tray of drinks that I couldn't hear what this guys name was - not that it mattered I guess - I didn't plan on doing anything as it was clear he wasn't into guys. He caught me looking at him once but he seemed to brush it off in the fog of alcohol he was in so I wasn't too fussed. At one the boss said I could go as they were going to go to bar only service so leaving the thumping, drunken function room I made my way to the change room, to get there you had to walk outside and from behind a dumpster I heard the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. By the dull rear light I could make out a large heavy ass with track pants revealing a small inch or so of ass crack, seeing the rugby top I knew it must of been the bloke who I'd checked out a couple of times during the night. Ordinarily I'd maybe see this as some kind of opening but the smell of beer and vomit kind of put me off so I got to the change room and closed the door. The other waiters and waitresses had left around 12 so I had the place to myself and seeing as it had been a hard night I decided to have a shower. Stripping down I was soon naked and while going through looking for my towel I heard what you'd have to call a grunt coming from the door. I had my back to the door but turning my head I saw it was the drunk bloke, his lips were still wet from where he'd thrown up and he swayed slightly on his feet but the one steady thing about him was the way he was staring at my naked ass. "You the only one ere'?" he said barely taking his eyes off my ass. I found my towel and started to wrap it around my waist, he was a good looking guy but he was too far gone to be attractive anymore. He was now just a heaving, wet mouthed drunk so it was stupid of me to tell him that I was the only one around. With glassy eyed determination he came up to me and straight off roughly pushed his fingers into my towel covered ass crack, from the violent rise in his track pants I could see he wanted something. Before I had time to think of anything to say his warm beer and sick smelling breath was making my ear sweat. "Mate, I'm hangin' for it. Bitchshes in there are too much fuckin' work so I guess you're gonna have ta do" "Look I ah..." Before I could say anything more he swung his arm around my shoulder and got me into a standing headlock. With his other hand he tore my towel off so I stood there nude my flaccid cut dick hanging between my legs. "Mate, I'm not ashkin' ya'. I'm a nishe guy when I'm happy orright'. Now, is this private?" "No, the storerooms better" Tightening his grip on my neck he slurred into my hair; "OK, I jus' wan' some of that ass a' yours then I'll go". Flicking my cock with a finger he tried to smile. Pushing me roughly ahead of him I made my way down the corridor with him staggering behind me. He must of noticed the contrast of my pale pink naked flesh against the black, grimy walls as under his breath he murmured approval "fuckin' peach, look at em' wigglin'....mate you wan' it" Entering the storeroom I flicked on the dim light bulb and locked the door behind us, as soon as the latch clicked he had his hand at the back of my head and was pushing it down towards the tent in his track pants. "Suck it mate, suck ma' cock" The grit of the floor dug into my knee's as I got down between his legs, I couldn't see it but his track pants and rugby top smelt of beer and sick. "Get it out ya' lil' fuckin' slut" I don't usually go for dirty talk but the way he leered down at me...well, despite myself my cock started to shift. Gripping the waistband of his track pants I lifted them up and over the huge lump in the front, the fabric was wet to the touch - he'd pissed on them sometime during the night. His black briefs also were wet and smelt of beer and piss - he must of been real drunk as I saw his pubic hair was wet and plastered against his skin as I peeled down the front of his briefs. Before I had time to decide what I thought about this his hand was pushing my face hard against his crotch. His heavy, hot cock wiped across my face, the cut head hard and fully erect, sweat, piss and beer rubbed into my cheek as I tried to get the wildly swaying dick onto my lips. Gripping his sweaty balls I took some control and with a sigh managed to get the cock head into my mouth. Desperate to wash it clean of the dirt and the smells of his crotch I bobbed my head up and down on his pole, the swaying and humping of his body made staying steady on my knee's hard, the dirt of the floor scraped into my skin as every thrust pushed my along the floor a little. "Get it wet you lil' bitch. Look at ya', you like my taste, you like my cock" The squelching sound grew louder as I pounded his cock head against my throat and my spit slathered the shaft. I knew he was gonna try to fuck me so I thought I'd suck him to orgasm so he'd lose his urge. I like sucking cock, I liked his cock to be truthful but I liked it on my terms, not the terms as laid down by some drunk bloke who'd pissed his pants and thrown up on himself. With a hard tug of my hair my mouth lifted up off his shaft, spit coated it slapped against my chin. "Nah, mate. I'm fuckin' that cunt a' yours" His hand pushed under my arm and lifted me to a standing position, if he noticed my stiffening cock as it swung in the air he didn't say anything. Clumsily pulling his track pants down to the floor he looked at me with a glass eyed expression. "Bend over, show us' ya' ass" Bending forward I stuck my ass out towards him. The lewdness of this position has always turned me on so I wasn't too surprised when my cock grew thicker and harder until I had myself a full erection. Making no effort to touch me his hoarse voice filled the air. "Show us ya' cunt" Reaching back I gripped my ass and pulled the ass cheeks apart. "Ho yeah, look a' lil' hole, ya' wan' it don' ha. Fuckin' hairy lil' cunt" I knew my ass was clean but after a night of work it'd be sweaty but I didn't care, fact was I wish I could of grossed him out a little, show him that it wasn't a 'cunt' he was fucking but another guys asshole. I had to hold myself steady as he began to push his rock hard cock head into my ass crack, time and again he missed, pulling my cheeks further apart I hoped he'd just get it in there. Pushing my ass closer to his body I could feel his frustration as he tried without success to hit my bud with his dick. Suddenly with a slurred curse I felt his bunched up fingers ram onto my ass hole, the tips digging slightly into my hole a shock of pain shot through me as he spread his fingers in an attempt to open me up for his cock. Not knowing if it worked I gripped hard and painfully onto my knee's when my hole seemed to burst into flame as his thrusting shaft slid through my ring and traveled violently into my ass. Gripping hard against my shoulders he pulled my body onto his cock, my whole ass filled with the hot hard cock, with a thrust and a groan I felt his large wet balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Despite everything he got a drunken clumsy rhythm going so before I knew it I couldn't help but let out small, throaty grunts as he rammed the breath out of me. Pushing my ass back to meet his cock I started to pump wildly as my own stiff, sweat dripping from my brow and the smell of ass and drunkenness filling the room. My head felt fuzzy and warm as his cock started to expand, getting close to the end. "fuck, fuck', fuck" the drunk grunted as he rode into my body. "Gonna blow" With two more thrusts and a stinging grip on my shoulder he let out a fart and his hot cum shot deep into my body as his brow sweat dropped onto my back and ran in rivers down into my ass crack. As I felt his softening cock being pulled from my hole I took my hand off my rock hard erection and turned to face him. He was tucking his dick back into his pants and wiping his sweaty brow on his shirt, averting my eyes he gave me a quick affectionate squeeze on the ass before shuffling to the door and disappearing. Reaching around to my ass it felt sensitive and raw, some of his cum was oozing out and I gently rubbed it against my hole to soothe the burning. I was gonna keep jerking off but I didn't know how I felt. Turned on or not? I walked back into the change room, quickly got dressed and left by the side entrance of the centre. THE END ______________________________________________________________________ PICS!! I write from pics I find on the net. If you want to see them send an e-mail to: jhimuswrite@yahoo.co.uk NOTE: quote the 'drunk' story so I know what you're talking about.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch. 2 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 2 By MaineBoyXY@aol.com I knelt there staring at his naked body. I could still taste cum from the blowjob I'd just given him, and when I saw that his cock was still hard, I had a pretty damned good idea of what was next on his agenda. "Ryan, I don't think I can do that." "Do what, Alex?" "Uh, you know, um, fuck." He smiled back at me. It was the evil smile again. "You didn't think an hour ago that you could suck dick, either, did you? You probably didn't think last week that you could cheat on an exam. You're learning a lot about yourself lately, aren't you?" I remembered the time I'd had sex with a virgin. She was kind of scared about doing it, but she wanted to try it. Here I was, scared like hell about getting fucked and not wanting to try it at all. I knew I was trapped. "Please? Ryan, please don't." I couldn't believe I was begging him not to fuck me. Taller than he was, stronger than he was, and one stupid mistake had made all that irrelevant. He took his glasses off and laid them on the wide, shelf-like headboard. "Come here," he said as he sat on the bed. His cock pressed against his flat abs pointing up to his sternum. I stood and walked over to him, and when I stood between his knees, he took my hips in his hands and turned me to face away from him. His hands moved down and I felt his fingertips gently tracing the curves of my ass. I broke out in goosebumps again and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I felt one hand leave me, and I turned my head and looked down to see him reaching under the bed. His hand reappeared holding a bottle, and I recognized it as lube. When I saw it, I knew exactly what happened to a deer when it got caught in headlights. I stood there frozen in panic, and I desperately grasped for ways to get out of this. "Ryan, please don't make me do this, OK? I mean, I sucked you off like you wanted. I only made one fucking mistake, and I don't think I deserve this. Please?" He wrapped one arm around my waist, and then I felt a finger sliding between my crack. He slipped it quickly down to my hole and pressed it firmly at the entrance. "Oh, God," I whimpered, and I felt myself starting to shake as I felt him rubbing small circles with his fingertip. Suddenly, he stood up, and since I had been standing between his knees, his body immediately pressed into mine. He felt so warm against my back, and I could feel his hard cock wedged vertically into my crack. He wrapped his hands around my waist, and I felt them slowly move over my abdomen and up to my pecs. My nipples were hard, I guess from cold or fear or something. He rested his hands on them, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. Then I felt him lean in and start kissing me. "I want you to get on the bed, on your hands and knees, Alex." "Ryan..." I was going to try again to beg, but he cut me off. "No, I'm not going to stop. You can decide right now what's more important to you, doing this thing that no one else is ever going to know about, or ruining your life. I'm not strong enough to physically keep you from leaving, so you know you can leave. But you know what will happen if you do. Now you have to the count of three to get on your hands and knees on my fucking bed." I heard him count in a measured rhythm. I did know what would happen. I wanted to run, but I couldn't, there was too much at stake. I got on the bed. "Good, now look at me." I turned my head over my shoulder to look at him. I saw him open the bottle of lube and squeeze some onto the tip of his middle finger. He looked straight into my eyes as he laid his palm on my ass cheek. My eyes widened when I felt the cold wetness of the lube touch my hole, and I noticed the corners of his mouth turn slightly upward. He was repeating that slow, circular motion with his fingertip. He put the lube down on the headboard began stroking the small of my back with his free hand. Before I realized it, he pressed his fingertip into the entrance of my hole and I let out a small grunt. He was pressing against something just inside me now, like some sort of second entrance I hadn't even known about, and he was repeating those small, circular strokes against it. I took my eyes off his and tried to lift my head to watch his hand behind me. That was when I felt him press through that final entrance into my ass. My mouth dropped open and I released a longer groan. My eyes flew back to his face, and I saw him smiling. It wasn't his asshole smile, but it wasn't completely friendly either. It was a cross between the two. It was a smile of lust. He kept sliding his finger gently through my ass, maybe one or two inches into me. It lasted a couple minutes before I felt him quickly press a second finger along with the first. I dropped my head and clenched my eyes shut. I could feel him sliding his fingers inside me. I had no idea how it would feel, and I still can't describe it, feeling the friction of his digits rubbing through the lips of my asshole, the soft pressure of them inside me, the way he twisted his hand to find new angles, feeling him spread his fingers apart to test the elasticity of my internal tissues. I don't know how long it lasted before I felt the mattress below me give when he climbed on. He crawled up behind me, then knelt, and I felt him remove his fingers and line up his cock with my hole. Then he lowered his chest onto my back, and slid his arms along my sides parallel to my torso. He curled his wrists up from under my shoulders and clutched me over my collarbone. I was pretty much holding us both up now. "Are you ready, Alex?" "No," I whimpered. "Tell me that you're ready." "Please don't," I pleaded. My breath caught as I felt him use his grip on my shoulders to pull himself into me. The cold wetness at my hole told me he had lubed up his dick, but I still felt a burning friction as his cock head popped into me. "Oh, God," I cried out, "Take it out, Ryan, God, please take it out!" As he rested, relaxed, on my back I realized that the burn in my ass wasn't from friction, it was more like a cramp. It was like my asshole was cramping. I tried to move forward to pull myself off his cock, but with his grip on my shoulders, he just moved with me. After one or two "steps" on my hands and knees, I was in the corner between the wall and the headboard. "Hold still, stop struggling, and just relax," he murmured into my ear. "It fucking hurts!" I yelled. "Did I fuck your face? Did I make you deep throat me? Did I ram your throat raw when I made you suck me off? No! I took it slow, because I knew it was your first time. I could have just ripped your ass open, dry, no fingering first, deep-thrust, piston fucking your ass. Am I? No. Now shut up and give it a minute." The irony of it might have escaped him, but it sure as hell didn't escape me. What the hell difference does it make how nice the rapist is when he's on top of you, pounding into you? I thought about throwing him off me, I pictured myself standing up and beating the arrogant fucker until he was a bloody pulp. Fuck him, fuck the exam, fuck everything. I was just about to rear up when he interrupted my thoughts. "Does it still hurt?" "What?!" "Does it still hurt?" he repeated. I stopped. It took me a second and I thought about my ass. There was a dull ache, but the burning was gone. "It's just sore." "Okay," he said softly, and I felt him pushing slowly in. It was a smooth, slow motion, and a short way through it, I felt him hit something inside me with the head of his cock. I dropped my head and exhaled hard. It felt like a ripple of electricity went through the length of my body, and its epicenter was some point between my asshole and the root of my cock. "Oh, God," I muttered, not scared or in pain now, but surprised. I felt the rest of his length slide over that place inside me, and I thought my arms were going to give out. I closed my eyes and groaned. I felt him pull back, until his cock head was just behind that spot, and then he pressed forward again. I thought my eyes were going to bulge out, and I could feel blood rushing into my dick hanging between my legs. He kept rocking the head of his cock back and forth over that spot, and I began to pant while my own dick grew to full erection and stretched out parallel under us. "Good, isn't it?" he asked, almost laughing. "Huh?" I said, confused as I returned to the present, distracted from the overwhelming pleasure in my ass. He reached down with one hand and found my hard cock. He gripped the shaft and started stroking. I threw my head back, and I felt my ass clamping around him as he began long, slow thrusts. I whimpered wordlessly, and I felt his mouth on my ear. "Yeah, it does feel good after all, doesn't it?" he whispered harshly as he started to nip my earlobe with his teeth. "Oh, yes," I hissed. I'd never felt anything like this, it was unbelievable. My cock was throbbing in his hand, and I could feel the friction moisten from the precum my own cock was drooling. He was shifting his weight in subtle ways behind me, and it was changing the angle of his penetrations. I could feel the head of his cock, the length of his shaft, pressing into my gut on all sides, and I could feel the soft, wet friction of his cock shaft sliding between my ass lips. I couldn't believe it, but I felt my balls rising in my sack, and I knew I would cum soon. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to cum!" I moaned. With that, Ryan's hand left my cock and returned to its place on my shoulder. He pulled his cock back until the head was barely inside me, and then rammed his whole length inside me in one in one reaming thrust. He pulled back and repeated this over and over as my spasms rippled down the length of my cock, and I thought my balls were going to disappear inside me. My fists clutched his sheets, my face turned red, and every vein stood out on my forearms as I begin to fire the hardest load I'd ever shot. My breath caught in my throat as I felt my own cum almost scalding its way up the inside of my cock, and then out into a pool below me. Ryan never skipped a beat, and I began to exhale in a low, raspy, ragged groan. Shot after shot poured from me, and when I thought I was done, he would hit that spot inside my ass and another shot would fire. I realized, mainly from the new slickness around my hole, that Ryan was cumming too, and I felt his fingers bruising my shoulders. At last, he stopped thrusting, and my cock stopped jerking and spewing. I became aware of how wet we both were from sweat as we began to cool down. My arms and legs were aching, and there was a dull throb in my ass around Ryan's cock as he lay limply over my back like a ragdoll. "Lie down," he whispered. I gladly let my legs and arms give out and I settled into the warm puddle of my own spunk. We just lay there, catching our breath, and I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest. After a few minutes, when we'd both calmed down, he repeated his earlier question. "How was it for you?" "Unbelievable," I answered. And it was true. I couldn't believe I'd done it, let alone that I had liked it. And I did. Feeling his cock shrinking inside me, feeling my own underneath me soaking in its puddle of slime, I knew I had liked it. I knew I wanted to do it again, too. As if he had read my thoughts, he chuckled. "I don't think I'm going to be ready again for a while." He started kissing my neck, then down the side of my face that wasn't resting on the mattress. Without thinking, I lifted my head up, and we kissed. I felt his soft cock slip free of my ass while his tongue was in my mouth, and my eyes fluttered open. He broke the kiss and stared at me, our noses only inches apart. For the first time, I saw something in his eyes that I'd never suspected would be there. He slid off my back onto his slide. I turned too, and we slid together, arms around each other, lying in my wet spot. The cum that clung to my front spread between our bodies as we embraced, and as we kissed, I could feel his cum oozing between my legs. At some point, exhausted, we fell asleep.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch.11 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 11 By MaineBoyXY@yahoo.com (new story list & FAQ site at maineboyxy.freewebsitehosting.com/index.html) Ryan regained his composure quickly. He stepped over to me, within an arm's length and held my chin firmly. His eyes burned into mine. "It felt good, what you did. And I'm still working on whether I believe why you did it. But remember who's in control here, and when I say stop, you'd better fucking stop." He released my chin and pulled his hand away, then sharply backhanded me across the cheek. I turned my face back to him and blinked the tears away. His face still bore an angry frown, but his eyes betrayed him. His eyes told me that he hadn't wanted to do it. He had done it to re-establish his control, and I knew that it was something we both needed. What else I saw, in his eyes and in the tension of his posture, kind of surprised me: there was fear. He was looking at me tentatively, watching to see whether he had gone too far and whether, by making it physically violent outside the context of sex for the first time, he had provoked me into responding. He was ready to retreat. I remembered how he had flinched when I had reached up to take his glasses off to kiss him the last time we'd been together, and how he had backed away from me when I suddenly stood and stepped from the shower. He knew I was stronger than he was. For all his control, he was still worried that I would turn on him. The realization only took fractions of a second, and so to did acknowledgment that I needed his control. I needed him to know that I accepted our roles and would not rebel. "Yes sir," I said, turning my face to the floor. I could feel relief wash over him as I saw this muscles in his legs relax. "Into the bedroom," he directed. I followed him across the hall into his room. "I want you to lie down on the bed, with your arms hanging off the sides. Your back should be about in the center of the bed, so that your ankles hang off the end." I climbed onto the bed and assumed the position he had described. He opened the armoire at the foot of the bed and selected some ties and casually tossed them onto the mattress at my feet. He then closed the armoire, took a tie, and walked to the side of the bed. Without looking at me, he tied my wrist to the bed rail than rang along the edge of the box springs and formed the support structure for the sleeping surface. One wrist secure, he walked around to the other side, knelt on the corner of the bed by my feet, and used another tie to restrain my other wrist in the narrow space between the bed and the wall. When he was done, I saw him looking down at my chest. With my arms pulled out and down this way, my pecs and abs were more starkly defined. He moistened his lips. I knew that he was in turmoil. He wanted to reach down and stroke my chest, and probably to lean over and lick me and suck on my nipples, too, but the way he defined our roles in our relationship prevented him from doing it. His construction of my subordination required that he use me for his pleasure, but never reveal his lust for me. He had done that the first night we were together, and he had felt rebuffed. He didn't understand how much I had changed between that night, just one week earlier, and tonight. He quickly looked away and stood. He walked over to his desk and unlocked a drawer, taking out lube, the vibrating butt plug, and the tit clamps. My erection, which hadn't even begun to subside, throbbed and drooled as I saw him walk to the bed with the toys. He saw it bobbing in the air and smiled wickedly. "You are not going to cum," he said as he lubed up the plug. He took his place between my feet, which hung over the edge of the bed, and took them with his free hand, one at a time, to bend my knee and swivel my hip so that the sole of each was planted on the corner of the mattress. My thighs were spread and my hole was exposed, and he lost no time in slipping the plug into me, burying it to the hilt in one stroke. I closed my eyes and groaned, pulling subconsciously at the bonds securing my arms, as I felt it slide between my ass lips and into my gut. "Alex," he called softly. I opened my eyes and looked down my torso and between my spread knees to look at him. He smiled wickedly again as he switched on the vibration. My cock twitched. Ryan walked up to the side of the bed and leaned over me, propping himself up with one hand. He used the free hand to begin torturing my nipples, pinching him first between his fingertips, then between his fingernails, then rolling them and pulling them up from my pecs. My face contorted with the pain of his tit work and the pleasure of the vibrations deep in my ass. The orgasm, which had been waiting in my balls for literally days, and which had only been seconds away from spewing forth as I'd been fucked in the shower, began to churn in my sack again. The muscles of my groin began to tighten. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," I chanted like a mantra. I clenched my eyes shut, and then I felt the first tit clamp close on my nipple. I cried out and bucked my hips into the air. He wasted no time in repeating on the second nipple. "Don't cum," Ryan said. "Please, oh God, please!" I begged. My cock was throbbing in the air and my hips were rising up, trying to fuck into something, into anything, to feel some sort of friction. Or to find some escape from the sensation in my ass and crotch and the dulling pain from my nipples. "Do you want it?" he asked. "Yes, oh God, please yes, Sir!" "Do you think you deserve it?" "Please Sir, oh please let me cum!" I shouted. "Tell me who else cheated on that calculus exam," he ordered. "What?!" I exclaimed, and like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on me, my writhing stopped. "You said last week that cheating wasn't your idea. I want to know whose idea it was." It was my turn to be speechless. He reached over and began to stroke his fingertips up and down the underside of my cock, from the root all the way up the cum tube to the head. They picked up some of the precum I had drooled, and he massaged the viscous fluid into my cock head. I could feel the sensations building back up inside me as he teased me, and I became aware again of the pulsing inside my ass. "No!" I protested. He leaned over, wrapping one arm around my leg, bent up into the air, for support and leaned over my crotch. He began to blow cool air over my nutsack. His fingers never stopped massaging my cock head except to run back down along my cum tube to retrieve more slime. "No, no, no, no," I began to beg, my resolve softening. He stood as my hips began to gently rock again, trying to find some way to avoid the pleasure in my ass. He walked to the foot of the bed and pulled my ankles down and apart. He knelt between my spread knees. "Tell me," he ordered. "I can't!" I sobbed. "Do you want to cum?" "YES!!" "If you cum without permission, Alex, it's over. You'll leave here, tonight, and you'll never come back." "No! No! No! No!" I was struggling hard against my bondage now, my head rocking side to side in protest and desperation. I began to thrash my legs, so Ryan pinned them down to the bed with his hands and then moved his legs to trap mine under him. One hand of his hands stroked my nutsack, which had tightened up as my orgasm approached. "Who was it, Alex?" "No," I whimpered. I was clenching every muscle in my body, focusing on clamping the prostate closed to hold back the tsunami of cum I knew was in my balls, ready to explode. I thought about that fucker, Jason Martin, who'd gotten me into this with his stupid fucking idea about that stupid fucking calculus exam. I thought about what would happen if I shot my load, being dismissed from Ryan's house, never to return. Never being used again. Never having his cock inside me, mouth or ass, ever again. I thought about the liquid fire churning at the base of my cock. I felt fingertips stroking the inside of my thigh. I couldn't hold back anymore. "Jason Martin," I screamed. "It was his idea!" As soon as the name was out of my mouth, Ryan gripped my cock tightly in his hand. "Cum," he ordered. And I obeyed with intensity. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. I had no conscious connection with the pleasure that erupted between my cock slit. It began as if in slow motion as Ryan knelt beween my knees, his legs pinning mine down, fisting my cock. Like hot magma, the cum exploded past my clenched prostate and through my cum tube, and fired into the air, and rained down on my face, hair, chest, and the bed beneath me. I have no idea how many times I shot, or how long the orgasm lasted. I couldn't have told you what day it was or what my name was as I came. As, at last, the sensation began to ebb outwardly from my groin through my legs and chest and out to every extremity, my brain left that place in the clouds where it had retreated and consciousness flowed back over me. My nipples, trapped in the steel clamps, were hard. The hair on the back of my neck stood. I was covered in goosebumps. I felt Ryan release my cock. He stood and walked over to the side of the bed, where he sat beside me. I opened my eyes, which at some point had overflowed with tears. I blinked them away and saw him as he held his hand, drenched in my cum, to my lips. I opened my mouth and began to lap at the juice I'd coated him with. His free hand stroked my hair softly, and when his other hand was clean, he began to run his fingers through the pools on the sheets and on my chest and on my face, bringing each to my mouth to feed me. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. There was nothing left as I lay limp, eating from Ryan's hand the spunk I'd spewed. My nipples ached. My guts vibrated. I had no idea what lay in store for me. Author's Note: The new site, newly formatted and updated, is now up with more information about me and my writing, as well as site exclusives. See this chapter's header for a link.

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Brains Over Brawn, Ch. 7 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it, and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 7 By MaineBoyXY@aol.com (For story list and FAQ, visit members.aol.com/maineboyxy) I called him that afternoon. No answer. I called again that night. "Hello?" "Sir! I am sorry my attempt at breakfast was so pitiful and disgusting. May I come over, Sir?" I heard Ryan snort. "Come over for what?" I paused. It was about this time of day, only two days earlier, that he had made me his cocksucker. He'd blackmailed me into it, threatened to turn me in for cheating on my calculus exam. I'd done it, and then he'd fucked me, and that had changed my life. It hadn't changed me, I was now what I always had been; now it was just no longer some repressed, denied, subconscious element of my personality, it was revealed and laid open, if only to me and Ryan. "To be fucked, Sir." "Alex? You really think you deserve to be fucked? I sent you home this morning because your incompetence was offensive. I couldn't stand the sight of you any more. You had a simple task and you failed miserably." His criticism burned into me, even if it was unjustified. I'd never known how to cook, I'd never cooked anything, and he'd expected me to create an omelet worthy of a television chef. "You made my kitchen a fucking disaster area and even then brought me the most vile, revolting collection of goo I've ever seen." "I'm sorry, Sir," I mumbled quietly under his rebuke. I felt like a puppy who'd messed the carpet. "You're fucking right you're sorry. You don't deserve my cock tonight, bitch." "But Sir! I'm so fucking hot," I whined. "I haven't gotten off since last night and I'm so fucking hard I can't think straight. May I at least jerk off?" Silence. I took it as a moment of deliberation on his part and an opportunity to beg, to persuade him in his indecisiveness. "Please, Sir. I have been good today, I didn't touch myself. I wore your collar all the way home. I'd never presume to jerk off and not tell you or to get off without permission. Please, Sir! Please let me jerk my cock." I ought to have known, even after only a few days, that Ryan was never indecisive. "So, you're really, really hot?" "Yes Sir!" "And you need to get off because you can't think straight?" "Yes Sir!" "The mall," he said. I was confused. "Huh?" "The mall. The fountain by the food court has a bench in front of it. If you need to get off, you will go to the mall. You will call me from a pay phone there and then you will jerk off on that bench." I froze. I was silent. Jerk off in public? At the mall? The week before Christmas? It would be fucking packed! And even if it weren't the week before Christmas -- it was the fucking mall! And not like it was some bathroom stall. A bench! By the food court! "What?!" I shouted. "It's not an order. You can decide whether you really need to get off or not. If you do, I expect to hear a lot of background noise and Christmas Muzak the next time I hear your voice." His voice was perfectly calm and matter-of-fact. I was dumbfounded. "Oh, yeah. If you go, Alex, wear your collar." My cock, which had never gone below half-mast all day, was flaccid now. The phone was dead in my hand as I leaned, half-sitting, on my desk. He couldn't expect me to really do it. I mean, fuck, it would be against the law. Gross indecency in a shopping mall. Fuck Ryan. At least the horniness had passed for the time being. I still needed to get off, but I could go help my parents put the Christmas lights up. Later, I sat in my room and idly surfed porn on my computer. One of my favorite sites showed girls sucking cock and having cum sprayed on their faces. I used to love those pics, sitting back, jerking off, thinking about blowing my load on some cheerleader's face. I'd never dared to humiliate any girl I'd dated before like that. I realized that I'd had Ryan's cum on my face, though, just the night before. I'd sucked him, then he'd fucked me, and I'd thought that it was all being broadcast over his webcam. I looked at the porn on my monitor and imagined for a moment that the girl was me. I was on my knees in front of some faceless guy's cock, not her. My tongue was hanging from my mouth, dripping with cum, not hers. Cum was on my cheeks, up my forehead, in my hair, not hers. I closed my eyes and remembered the smell of Ryan's cock. I could remember the way his cockhead felt and tasted the first time it had touched my lips and tongue. I could almost smell it, almost feel it, almost taste it. I could almost see him through my closed eyelids, standing over me, starting to slide his hips back and forth. Without thinking, I licked my lips. I was writhing slightly in my chair and I realized I'd taken hold of my cock through my jeans. Fuck Ryan. He'd never know. I could whack myself off right now, and he'd never know! Fuck the mall. I was horny. I wanted to cum. I opened my fly and took out my dick. I looked at it, how hard it was, how wet the head was from precum I'd leaked into my boxers. I traced the rim of the head with my fingertip, then down the thick tube on the underside, the cum tube. God, it felt good. I watched myself, my hand caressing my meat. Something was missing. The feeling was great, the slow tease I was giving myself. I'd earned this. Fuck Ryan. I'd earned an orgasm. I'd gone almost 24 hours now without one. I'd eaten the most vile, revolting collection of goo Ryan had ever seen, I told myself, using the words with which he'd browbeaten me. I realized what was missing. It was like the light bulb over some cartoon's head. I quickly unfastened my jeans and pushed them and my boxers to the floor. I paused for a second as I saw the bright, white patch of skin laid bare after Ryan had shaved my pubes off the previous night. I lifted my feet to the edge of the desk and wrapped my arm under my thighs. I closed my eyes again as I took hold of my cock with one hand and let the fingers of the other circle around my asshole. God, that was good. I pulled my hand back and scooped up my own precum on two fingertips and pushed them back to my hole. I rubbed the slime in, and then pushed with one finger. My eyelids flickered and a moan escaped my throat as my finger parted the lips of my ass and entered me. So good. I stuck the rest of my finger inside, all the way to the knuckle. I rotated my hand, twisting my finger, as I stroked my cock. I remembered Ryan fucking me. I remembered how long and thick the cock was and how inadequate my finger was in comparison. It felt awesome, sure, and I felt like a fool for having missed out on it for all those jerk off sessions I'd had since I'd hit puberty. But a finger was no cock. The image in my head focused on Ryan's cock. I'd come to know it pretty well. I could see the coloring, that pinkish, yellowish, pale shaft, the red, spongy head. The veins that stood out when it was hard. I swallowed. Suddenly, I sat up. He'd call me tomorrow. He'd want to get off. And, he'd expect me to cum from getting fucked. Sure, I'd have no problem cumming, but he'd be able to tell that the load was too small or something for it to have been my first since last night. He'd know. And he'd said that if I broke his rules, I'd lose his cock. I wanted cock. I needed cock. The only way I could get cock was Ryan. Unless someone else knew. I sure as hell wasn't going to tell anyone. I mean, fuck, my friends sure weren't going to step up to fuck my ass. If I asked them, they might beat the shit out of me, but no ass fucking, that's for sure. Fuck! I looked down at my throbbing cock. It was so fucking hard. Precum bubbled out of it as I watched. I dropped my head to my chest and sobbed my shoulders. FUCK! Three fucking days ago! I'd been a happy, cunt chasing, soccer captain, high school senior. Now I was a sophomore's bitch! I couldn't even jack myself off! It was unbelievable. It was pathetic. It was inescapably true. I pulled my finger from my ass and pulled my boxers back on. I turned out the lights and flung myself on the bed in disgust. I stared up at the ceiling as the Christmas lights outside cast their colored glow through the gap in my curtains. My cock had poked through the fly of my boxers. I reached down and pushed it back inside and after a second, slid my fingers down and stroked my sack. I closed my eyes. It took a concerted, conscious effort to pull my hand out of my underwear. After at least an hour of tossing and turning, humping my crotch against my mattress, and punching my pillow in frustration, I fell asleep. I awoke hard. I groaned as consciousness washed over me. With a sense of resignation, I opened my eyes to see the low, pale light of the winter morning just after dawn. I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling as my cock throbbed, the quilt under which I lay bobbing with its pulses. I couldn't remember ever being so hard or ever wanting to get off so badly. I think that not being able to get off made me want to all the more, not just because of the lack of release but from the sheer psychological burden of knowing that I was not allowed to do it. It was a circle: every time I thought about getting fucked by Ryan, I wanted to jerk off; every time I wanted to jerk off, I remembered Ryan and knew I couldn't. If I could have just gotten the horniness out of my system with a quick orgasm, I'd be able to move my brain onto other topics. Catch-22. I reached into the drawer of the table next to my bed and pulled out my CD player and headphones. I slipped the headphones over my ears, cued the player to repeat the tracks on the disc in random order, and closed my eyes. I didn't fall asleep, but the driving rhythm of the music punctuated my descent into a senseless fog. Soon the sounds echoed distantly and conscious thought was replaced with a series of mental images. Images of me sucking Ryan, of being fucked by him. Like my eyelids were the screen of a movie theater, I could see myself being used. I could see myself lying in bed as if hovering between it and the ceiling. I could look down and see through the quilt that covered my body, taking in the mussed hair, the headphones, the shaved body, the throbbing cock. Today was Monday, some part of me realized. Friday, I had woken up normal. Straight. I think I'd jacked off that morning in bed. By that night, Friday night, Ryan had taken my mouth and ass. By Saturday, I'd wanted him to do it again. By Sunday, he'd kicked me out of his house without sex and I had almost cried with desperation after watching him blow his load without me. And today was Monday. How had I gotten here? I thought back to the exam, the blackmail. That had gotten me to Friday, but that hadn't gotten me to lying here in my bed, fighting the urge to take my cock in my hand and work it until it exploded. I remembered the sneering looks, the smirks, the sarcastic comments Ryan made each time I'd reacted in horror to each new act of homosexuality. Acts of self-revelation. He knew some how before I did what I would be capable of, both physically and emotionally. I wondered how he did that. How he knew I would not only be able to do it, but want it, crave it, after he forced me to. But, in a flash, I remembered his first act of conquest. In his kitchen, as he told me his plans, he'd kissed me. And he'd ordered me to kiss him back. I had done it then, almost robotically, in a trance, obediently but unwillingly. I remembered the collar he'd given me, now locked in the glove compartment of my car. I don't know how long I lay there because the CD player never stopped and I didn't look at the clock. I was only brought back to reality when a sharp knock at my door told me my parents were up. My mother invited me down to breakfast; I was out of school but they still had work to go to. I excused myself as too tired because I couldn't think of a way to hide my hard on. The wait was excruciating as I heard their bustling preparations, culminating in the firm slam of the door as my father left the house. The house would be empty now. I got out of bed and looked down at the cock jutting out from between the fly of my boxers. It had to be late enough to call by now. I couldn't wait anymore. "Hello?" Ryan asked sleepily. It had taken a half dozen rings to get him to answer, but I didn't care. "Sir? I have got to come see you, please! My cock is going to fucking explode, and I am so fucking horny! Please, I can't go to the mall, I can't jerk off in public! I mean, I'll get arrested! Please! I'll do anything," I begged. "You won't do anything, you fucking slut, because you won't do what I told you to do if you really needed to get off. If you can't persuade yourself to go fuck off in front of the food court, you don't need to get off that badly." "God damn it, Ryan!" I shouted. "I'll fucking get arrested! I almost fucking blew my load last night because I couldn't stand it! I want to obey your rules, but I can't if you make them impossible. You have to give me something realistic, this isn't a fucking fantasy." "Alex, you've already broken one of the rules." It hit me that I'd called him by name. "The only way you're getting off with my permission is at the mall. If you don't do it there, then don't ever call me again. If you need some way to satisfy your cunt, call someone else. If you call me again, and I don't hear the fucking Christmas music in the background, if I don't hear milling crowds of happy fucking holiday shoppers, I'm emailing our DVD to the soccer team. "I'm not ordering you to jerk off," he repeated from last night. "I'm just telling you that if you're really to the point that you have to do it, you'll do it where I tell you to. Otherwise, you're just whining. If you never call me again, fine. I'll know you're a pussy but I won't tell anyone. Your secret will be safe with me. But if you get off and ever ask me for my cock again, you're toast." I heard the phone slam into the cradle. I looked at my receiver. I wanted to scream or cry or both. I put the phone down and sat on my desk. I rested my elbow on my thigh and started pounding my forehead on the heel of my palm. How the fuck was I going to get out of this? He was fucking serious. All I could think about was his cock and how good it felt inside me and how if I didn't do this, I'd never have it again. Three fucking days!! Suddenly, I had an idea. I went to my closet, and deep in the back I found the trench coat my grandmother had given me for my birthday a couple years before. I don't think I'd ever worn it, except once over my suit to a cousin's wedding. I took the coat out and slipped it on. It was a little tighter in the shoulders, but it still hung loosely and down to mid-calf. I felt like an exhibitionist, one of those dirty old men who wear long coats outside schools waiting to flash the kids. I took the coat off and pulled on my jeans and a sweatshirt. I slipped the coat back on and sat back on the desk. Sticking my hand in my pocket, I could rub my fingers over the lump of my cock, through the thin lining of my coat, the jeans, and my underwear. I could feel it, but not well enough. Without taking the coat off, I dropped my jeans and replaced them with khakis. Better, but not good enough. I dropped trou again, shucked my boxers, and tried again. Still better. But I'd blow all over my khakis. I thought for a minute. I opened the desk drawer, took out a pair of scissors, and sliced a hole in the lining of the coat, right behind the pocket. Now I could slip my hand through the hole and, except for the khakis, it was like stroking my bare cock. I thought about putting the boxers back on, but figured the length of the coat would hide the wetspot from my cum. I was peeved that I'd ruin a pair of perfectly good khakis, but at this point, between the pent up lust and my self-satisfaction at having found a solution to Ryan's riddle, I let it go. It was after 9. The mall would be open for holiday hours. Maybe they wouldn't be crowded yet, either. I practically sprinted to my car. I drove to the mall, and one look at the parking lot told me my chances of a light turn out were nil. I found a parking place a football field from the nearest entrance and darted inside. I remembered the collar just as I got to the door, and had to turn around and go back to the car. I got in, opened the glove compartment, and fastened it on. As I looked up, a woman who had thought I was getting in to leave and who had pulled up behind my car to take my place was looking at me strangely. I blushed bright red as I realized she had probably seen the collar and watched me putting it on. I ducked my head and ran back to the mall. The place was packed. My hands were shaking as I got to the pay phones and dialed Ryan's number. I had it memorized by now. "Hello?" he paused. "I knew you could do it," he smirked as the cacophony of Christmas commercialism piped through the phone. "Are they busy?" "Yes Sir, they're wall to wall." "Good." His voice dripped with delight. "You know what to do and where to do it. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. You can start without me, but you'd better not finish." I groaned. Some part of me had wanted to find a way out this. Go do it in the bathroom. Or a changing room. Or out in the car. Especially after seeing this crowd. But he was coming to watch me do it. I resigned myself to my fate and wove my way through to the food court. I sat on the infamous bench and waited. I didn't honestly think I could last fifteen minutes if I started now. After I counted ten minutes pass on the big, digital clock on the wall, counting backwards the time remaining until midnight Christmas Eve, I stuck my hand through the hole. If Ryan got here and I hadn't started, he might get pissed. I looked down as my fingers began stroking my dick through my pants. The trench coat was barely moving. I was relieved. It was difficult to focus on my cock and watch to make sure no one noticed me as they passed, but it only took a few minutes for the stimulation to get to me. Before long, I was devoting a large part of my concentration on keeping my hips from rocking up on the bench or my breath from getting too ragged. I kept anxiously looking at the clock, waiting for Ryan so I could finish before I became too conspicuous, but ten more minutes passed. Then fifteen. I had been keeping myself on the edge for about five minutes when I panicked. Did Ryan even have a car? What if he never showed up? Should I go call him to see if he was just fucking with me? That was when I saw him. He was standing in line at the coffee shop at the corner of the food court, staring at me. He was wearing a deep, forest green turtleneck and jeans. The green< would have matched his eyes perfectly. His blond hair was softly brushed to one side. The thin wire frame of his glasses caught the light. I saw his trim frame, that light build that betrayed both the dominating attitude and the disproportionately large cock. The sheer eroticism of this image, his casual, nonchalant appearance, which to the casual observer would have made him appear to be leisurely waiting his turn in line, made my cock leap. I clamped every muscle in my pelvis as I strained to keep my load in my balls. I stopped stroking instantly. And then I saw him nod, his eyes staring into mine from a hundred feet away. It took one more touch. My fingertip hit my cockhead, and it began. Every muscle in my body clenched as I tried not to give myself away. I bit my lip hard to keep from screaming out. I held my breath as seconds passed and I felt my warm spunk shoot into the leg of my khakis and spatter against my thigh. I pumped my load longer than I could hold my breath, and I gasped for air as the orgasm racked my painfully rigid body. I almost lost my grip on my composure as the air rushed in and out my lungs. Ryan had been staring at me, an audience of one in a sea of hundreds -- or so I hoped -- and I at him, until I had to clench my eyes shut. And then it was over. I don't know how long it took, but I became aware suddenly of the noise. In the moments of climax, I had heard nothing. The only information my brain could process was the feeling of sexual release, pent up for more than 24 hours in unbearably horny conditions, and the look on Ryan's face as he recognized my orgasm as a struggle between outward calm and inward upheaval. It was look of conquest. Smug. Satisfied. I opened my eyes again, and he was ordering. I sat, immobile, exhausted, feeling the sheen of sweat on my body. I slowly looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but if they had, there was no sign of it. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal. Coffee in hand, Ryan walked passed me and subtly gestured with a nod of his head that I should follow him. I rose, wobbly, and made my way behind him. We walked passed the bookstore by the mall entrance I'd used, me trailing him by a dozen feet or so, until we got to the end of the mall. He stepped outside the exit and stopped. I joined him. "I knew you could do it," he said, looking over the parking lot. He didn't acknowledge me except with his voice. "Did you drive, Sir?" I asked. "Yeah, I drove Mom's Saab. Parking was a bitch." He shivered. "It's cold out here." "I'm on the other side of the mall. Are we going back to your place?" "I said, it's cold out here," he repeated. He turned to me and gave me one of his blank, cruel looks. As his intention dawned on me, I stared back in disbelief. After a few seconds, he titled his head expectantly. As cars cruised the lot for parking places, I bowed my head and my shoulders heaved. I shrugged out of the coat and held it to him, in front of me. I looked down and the cum stain was unmistakable. It extended down the length of my thigh from where my now softened dick hung, drooling the last of its load, through a large smear where my precum had leaked, and to my knee. It could have passed for urine, except for the spatter pattern. Ryan took the coat and slipped into it. Instinctively, I moved behind him, using him to block any view of the front of my pants. "Can I walk behind you to your car?" I pleaded for mercy. He laughed out loud. "Yeah, right. Good one, Alex. Meet me at my place in twenty minutes. You've still got to pay up for calling me by name earlier. And don't even think about wearing those ridiculous pants inside my house." With that he stepped off the curb. My cover gone, I freaked. I knew I couldn't go back in the mall; I had to take my chances in the parking lot. I ran for the nearest row of cars and slipped between a coupe and a sedan. The cum was cold now, even colder in the wintry morning air, and I felt each slap of the cloth against my slimy leg. Sprinting between rows, I managed to make it to my car. I don't know if anyone saw me, I just got the hell into the driver's seat and revved the engine. Author's Note: I had intended, as written, to end this story after Chapter Six. I've moved on to two new serials, but the response for Brains Over Brawn and requests for more chapters were overwhelming. It would be unpardonably arrogant of me to ignore them, so I am extending this series. I will continue to work on Student Orientation and Behind the Eight Ball, because I already have chapters of each of them outlined. I would like to update all three equally as time permits, but writing is like any other capitalist endeavor and I try most earnestly to supply the greatest demand. Therefore, your comments on which story I should pursue will be most helpful. As always, I appreciate feedback, though I am infrequently able to provide personal responses.

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Date: Sun, 26 May 2024 14:51:37 +0100 From: Barney Bumpkin <barneybumpkin@gmail.com> Subject: Confessions of a Wannabe Gay Sex Slave - Chapters 3-4 Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further. All characters and situations are fictional, though hopefully plausible, and grounded in reality. The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved. The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK. My thanks go to Nifty for all the pleasure the Archive has given me over the years and for the opportunity to bring my writing efforts to the attention of those who share my particular erotic interests. Readers are encouraged to make a donation to keep the archive going for many more years. As always, feedback both critical and complimentary is welcome via e-mail to: barneybumpkin@gmail.com. Please don't contact me with commercial requests or advertising. Hope you enjoy Barney Summary In this off-beat erotic comedy Barney Bumpkin charts the sexual adventures of fifty-year-old gay Londoner, Alan, who after being made redundant from his job after 25 years' service, decides to pursue his long-held ambition to become the sex slave of another man. After a year of searching dating websites, he eventually stumbles across Ram, a feisty thirty-year-old of Indian ancestry, who he realises has the potential to fulfil his fantasies. However, although the youngster possesses the good looks, desire, self-confidence and intelligence he is seeking, he is far from his perfect match and a battle of wills ensues between them as each strives to get closer to what they want from the other. Whilst Alan attempts to steer the headstrong young top toward providing the type of domination that excites him the most, Ram sets about training the former dom to better meet his more straightforward needs, sex-wise and otherwise. Via their on-line message exchanges and a series of increasingly humiliating sexual encounters, many of which take place in public places and involve others, the author brings to life their stormy relationship and depicts both the highs and lows of Alan's quest to find his ideal master. Reader's Comments on Barney's previous work "I enjoyed reading your story. It is well-written, with good pace and detail. The theme is imaginative and so hot." "I want to let you know how much I'm enjoying your latest story. Not only is it incredibly horny (I cum every time I read an instalment) but I love the way you're slowly ratcheting things up in an entirely believable fashion." "Your splendid writing has blown my mind and my cock!" Chapter Three Looking back at the sex we had on that first occasion, it was far more reciprocal than what was to follow. I remember how excited I became by merely hugging and fondling his slender brown body and admiring his handsome face. I distinctly recall Ram sucking my cock in a 69, so we must have ended up on the floor at one point, and us also kissing passionately on the lips - although only after I'd agreed to go up to the bathroom to get mouthwash and rinse out my mouth, given I'd just given him a rim job! He certainly got my vote for being both clean and health-conscious and also for being sympathetic enough not to force me to take his cock deep-throat when I continued to gag on it. Instead he patiently explained to me that I just needed to "learn to relax". Had he ever had a giant cock repeatedly rammed down his throat, I wondered? However, in general, he came across as a very considerate and caring guy who was only doing his best to give me the sexual domination I'd said I was after in my on-line profile. Ram sported a rigid erection throughout our encounter which led me to think that he must have fancied me at least a little - though, on reflection, I realised that he could just as easily have got off on the sadistic pleasure he obtained from humiliating me or from the physical stimulation he derived from having any guy service his cock and arse. Hopefully it was a mix of all three! But I guess I'd better resume from where I left off so you can make up your own mind on the issue... "Now I'm going to fuck you!" he'd announced. Given the large size of the Indian lad's dick and some recent bad experiences I'd had, I was not looking forward to Ram screwing me, but accepted that sooner or later it had to happen and was determined to accept it without complaint when the moment arose. However, when push came to shove, I reneged on my commitment and bucked and slid away from his marauding cock, unable to bear the pain as he tried every which way to squeeze his enormous member inside my, until then, rarely fucked hole. Ram had begun gently enough, positioning me on my knees with my arse in the air so that he could loosen me up with a couple of lubricated fingers. He'd then provided me with yet another opportunity to display my unquestioning obedience by demanding that I put the condom on his cock for him... Excited at being complicit in my own deflowering, I tore open the packet, carefully unrolled the latex sheaf and stretched it until it encompassed the entire length of his shaft. "Stand facing the wall, arms above your head," Ram ordered, hastily rising to his feet without giving me the chance to lubricate his dick. "Now stick out your arse and spread your legs!" I did as I was told and soon felt the head of his knob pressing hard against the delicate pink lips of my anus. Please take it slowly, I prayed, trying my best to relax my sphincter muscles so he could slide himself inside me without causing me too much trauma. But the youngster could restrain his excitement no longer and abruptly thrust his swollen prick inside me as deeply as he could! Like a stuck pig, I was suddenly overwhelmed with pain and involuntarily backed my arse away from him, forcing him out as quickly as he had forced himself in! Although my mind was willing, my body refused to obey - the lack of lube and my awkward stance combining to make it far more painful than I could bear. After a brief hiatus, while Ram roundly cursed me, I bent forward and placed my hands on my knees to better brace myself against his thrusts, and meekly offered my arse to the young Indian a second time. But the moment he entered me fully, I was again stricken by such unbearable pain that I eased forward on tip- toe and ejected him yet again. "Bend over with your head in the chair!" Ram demanded in exasperation. Shamefaced at disappointing him, I hastily shifted his clothes from the recliner and meekly buried my head in its seat with my arse cheeks spread wide, so that he could enter me with greater ease. With nowhere left to escape, the youngster finally had his way with me, driving my head into the seat cushion as he drove his cock home and then slowly withdrew it, only to prise it inside me again, deeper than before. Although I whimpered pathetically into the cushion from the pain of each thrust, my muffled pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears - in fact they seemed only to increase the boy's excitement and the pace of his fucking of me. With my abdomen full to bursting and the pain increasing rather than subsiding, I was on the point of interrupting him once again, when, to my huge relief, his thrusts suddenly abated. The lad had ejaculated inside me. He had cum in less than a minute! "Okay, now it's your turn - I want to see you cum!" Ram exhorted, when I finally raised my head up from the chair seeking direction. By this time, the condom was hanging down from the end of his spent dick, its tip bloated from the huge quantity of semen he had just pumped into my virginally tight ass. I also detected traces of blood, but thankfully nothing else! The lad grabbed a handful of tissues to clean himself up from the box I had left out for him and then slumped down on the sofa still breathing heavily to savour his moment of post-orgasmic bliss. Ram was a nice guy, I decided, unlike some of the more selfish self-styled tops I had come across on-line, he was going to permit me to cum before took he took his leave! Equally grateful that he had cut short my suffering by cumming so quickly, I watched approvingly as he carefully peeled off the rubber and wrapped it up in the tissues so that none of his spunk spilt on either the furniture or the floor. "Get on with it then!" he added impatiently, as I continued to stare at him in wide-eyed admiration as he finished cleaning up his dick. In response, I knelt down at my idol's feet and gazed up at his slim young man's body. My earlier excitement having been doused by the shock of penetration, I had to tug hard on my shrunken cock to get myself re- aroused. Despite all the planning I had done in advance of our meeting, this was a moment I had not anticipated, as I had not envisaged Ram leaving it entirely up to me to decide how I should cum. I toyed with the idea of asking him to tweak my nipples while I wanked-off but decided this was far too demeaning a task for him at this stage in our relationship and something he should only do of his own volition, when he thought I deserved it. Instead, I decided that what I wanted to do most of all was to worship him and add to my humiliation by doing this in the most demeaning way I could think of. So, I reached out and held his foot up to my cheek and asked his permission to remove his socks. "Okay, but no tickling!" was the lad's endearing response. I took hold of each slender foot in turn and carefully peeled away its purple sock. Then I gently brushed the tops and soles of his feet with my lips and kissed each of his toes whilst continuing to wank myself furiously. Going through my mind was how this was surely the ultimate in self-effacement - I was stark naked, down on my knees, newly fucked, masturbating myself, excited that the handsome young Indian should allow me the privilege of even kissing his feet! Clearly having an inkling of what was going through my head, Ram responded by adding to my humiliation by inserting his toes into my mouth. I gobbled them up eagerly, despite this being the first time in my life I had done such a thing, and then settled down to sucking the big toe of Ram's left foot as though it were his cock (though of a much more manageable size). Jumping to the conclusion that this was one of my biggest turn-ons, the youngster slid his toe in and out of my mouth more and more forcefully, and within minutes my excitement reached a crescendo. But it was the humiliation involved in doing it that had excited me, rather than any long-suppressed sexual fetish for worshipping feet. When I came, I was imagining that Ram had forced me to kiss his feet and lick his toes in front of an audience, rather than me doing it voluntarily in the privacy of my own home. I dreamt that I was being made to masturbate like a dog in a public place to reveal to all-comers the extent of my submission to the stunningly beautiful young Indian lad, who in the course of a single encounter and the exchange of a few on-line messages had turned me into his willing slave! Seemingly oblivious to the impact he had had on me, once I was done, Ram handed me some tissues, finished dressing and wordlessly took his leave. Desperate to see him again, after recording every delicious detail of our first encounter in my diary and wanking-off over it, I sent him a message of thanks that same evening, hoping against hope that this was just the start of my adventures with this imaginative and mischievous young Indian top. Hi Ram Thought I'd let you know that I thought this afternoon was pretty incredible. You played the dominant role to perfection - taking my obedience for granted, chastising me when I stepped out of line and taking things at your own pace so that you could enjoy every minute of your pleasure and my humiliation. Sorry I was a bit anxious and failed to stay hard - I should have told you in advance that tweaking my nipples is the quickest way to get and keep me excited. As you found out, I'm not that experienced a cock sucker and am not used to being fucked regularly either - so you presented me with quite a challenge - I suggest you mark-up the dick size on your profile from "average" to "large" BTW - I doubt you'll get any complaints! It's perhaps too much to hope that we may meet up again - but you never did get round to describing that particular roleplay fantasy you had in mind for me... I'm still intrigued. I'm at your disposal should you ever want to take things further. Thanks again, Alan xxx Chapter Four The following day, the website informed me that my message had been received, but when a week passed and I heard nothing in reply. I thought about sending him another but decided I better not risk it, as the last thing I wanted to do was scare the guy off by appearing too demanding. So, I put Ram to the back of my mind, comforting myself that I had other irons in the fire, sex-wise. I could usually score on my occasional visits to the sauna and guys continued to contact me in response to my two on-line profiles - although either me, or them, usually bailed out before getting to the point of actually meeting up, they at least provided me with new material for my wank fantasies! But when another week passed, I concluded I was unlikely to hear from the mischievous Indian again and in my desperation, considered driving to a leather bar and hanging around the darkroom wearing nothing but a jockstrap, boots and a collar to see if I could land myself a dominant man that way. The idea of making myself so vulnerable in public excited me tremendously but on reflection I doubted I would be up to facing the consequences should I be taken advantage of by a guy who was less scrupulous than Ram was about his personal hygiene, whose cock may well have been sucked by half a dozen other guys before me and likely as not also been shoved up a similar number of arses! With my luck, I also thought it highly unlikely I would attract the type of guy I fancied (certainly no one as handsome as Ram) given the limited selection the average gay leather bar had to offer and the scarcity of guys with their origins in the Indian sub-continent frequenting them. Equally, I had qualms about rejecting suitors after having led them on by dressing so provocatively, as it would not only involve me stepping out of my submissive role but would also result in those that witnessed the rebuff giving me a wide birth in future. Plus, some guys were hard to shrug off once they had their cock jammed down your throat and didn't take rejection by a sub kindly! My conclusion was that I would have to go the whole hog and accept all comers whether I fancied them or not - but then I risked being fucked over by the completely selfish tops I disliked so much. Add to this, the not unlikely possibility of being spotted subbing by someone who knew me and I decided I wasn't that desperate ...at least not yet! So instead, to pass the time while I waited for the young Indian to respond, I decided to take some new selfies of myself - with me naked and in more overtly submissive poses than I had in the past. Then, if I didn't hear from him soon, I could send the pics to him in the hope they might persuade him to get in touch with me again. I placed my camcorder on a tripod in the home gym I'd set up in the spare bedroom and started off posing in my regular workout gear, then gradually stripped down to nothing, before wanking to get myself hard, then pointed my arse at the camera and parted my cheeks to emphasize my availability. Thinking of the extra leverage and control that sending these images to a top would give him over me, I rapidly got myself excited and cosied up the lens to capture pics of myself cumming in close-up. Afterwards, I spent an hour or more putting together a selection of stills from the video that I hoped might arouse Ram, and any other interested tops, adding some of the faceless ones to my on-line sub profile in the hope that this might also help deliver the goods... A few days later, on a dull Monday afternoon I was contemplating a trip to the sauna (I rarely visited at the weekends as I had other commitments then and going when the place was packed out didn't seem to improve my chances of scoring much) when it occurred to me that I hadn't checked out the website for messages that day. So before taking the final decision to go, I logged onto my profile "just in case". Although I discovered I'd received no fresh contacts as a result of the new pics I'd added to it, to my surprise I had finally received a new message from Ram. hello alan and ta for yours had a pleasant time with you also...would be fun to do it again...my fantasy we can discuss when we meet next... are you at yours this week at all? Ram xx Wow! He'd finally got back to me when I'd more or less written him off! This meant our first date was a success after all - or that at least that he was sufficiently keen on me to judge me worthy of servicing him again! My more cynical self, told me he'd probably been on the lookout for sex and, like me, had not been successful. So, the rat had finally got back to me as a last resort, totally ignoring the fact he'd let three weeks elapse before bothering to reply to the message I'd sent him on the very same day as we'd met! Nevertheless, noticing he was still on-line, I replied immediately, in the hope that he might be able to meet up the following day! As the blood rushed to my cock, I set my resentment aside and hastily typed out a suitably obsequious response. Tomorrow would be great at whatever time is convenient for you sir - I will have the place to myself until at least 6pm. Please let me have your instructions for how I should dress for your visit and if there is any equipment you would like to have available or any refreshments. I will leave the door open for you as before. In my excitement I appended one of the stills from the series I had taken earlier that week - the first naked face pic with me in a submissive pose that I had ever shared with a guy I had met through a dating website! Although I did not possess a single image of either his face or body (clothed or otherwise) I was handing over, unsolicited, an intimate one of myself with no strings attached. My hope was that Ram would not only be aroused by having a permanent record of me displaying himself for his pleasure but also enjoy the additional power I was giving him over me. If he decided to show it to his pals or share it with the world by posting it on the internet, I had no right to complain. Indeed, part of me actually wanted him to do just that as a means of increasing my sexual humiliation at his hands. The message I hoped to convey was that if he fancied me, then I was his to do with exactly as he pleased! It seemed to do the trick as, to my surprise, this time I received an immediate reply. hello alan and ta for yours instructions for tomorrow -you will be dressed in a white tee-shirt and nothing else -coffee will be ready to serve with milk and brown sugar - stronger than you had made it previously and on time! -the back door open with an ashtray and a box of matches sitting on the table in the garden Ram xx ps expect me at midday tomorrow...do not disappoint me regarding the above! The tone of this message set my pulse racing as it showed that the youngster had assumed the dominant role I had hoped he would. He could have made any demand of me, however outrageous, and I would have rushed to obey him - in fact, the more sexually humiliating the request, the more I would have liked it! Yet he had settled for merely having me strip down to a tee-shirt for our next meet and provide him with coffee (albeit of precisely the right consistency and as soon as he arrived). However, I noted he had spiced up this mundane request with a threat, not to "disappoint him," leaving me to speculate on what the possible consequences might be should I inadvertently let him down! I dashed off a reply: Okay Ram - you're the boss - see you tomorrow at noon! I then returned to study his message in more detail. So, Ram was a smoker! I hadn't realised this on our first meet as we'd stayed indoors and he had refrained from smoking while inside the house. Sitting out on the patio would give him the opportunity to indulge his addiction to nicotine as well as to caffeine and have me service him sexually at the same time, in a sort of mini-orgy! Why did he want us to meet so early in the day I wondered - did he want lots of time to do what he liked with me or was this just the time of day that suited him best? Would I get to know what his sub-dom role play fantasy was this time round or was this just a ploy to get me horny? Was he really planning to carry it out when we met? I thought it unlikely that Ram was planning on doing too much to me outdoors as I didn't think he knew just how private the garden was and so would be wary of us being observed. But the more I thought about it, what better test of a new sub's obedience could there be than demanding he strip naked and allow himself to be fucked outside his own back door regardless of the risk of his neighbours witnessing it? In contrast, he would be off and away immediately afterwards (perhaps never to be seen again) leaving me to face the consequences of broadcasting my taste for sexual humiliation to all and sundry! So, as a precaution, just in case this was what Ram had in mind for me, I decided I would put up the sun umbrella to provide additional cover (whether or not the sun was shining). This would reduce the number of potential witnesses and allow me more comfortably to comply with his demands whilst still providing the additional frisson of sex outdoors. It also occurred to me that, this time round, I needed to prepare my arse and throat to take Ram's extra-large cock. So later that night I not only loosened my arse with a modestly sized butt-plug but also wrapped a suitably large banana up in cling-film and slid it down my gullet by way of a rehearsal for what I knew was to come on the following day. After I'd done this a few times, and worked out that it was impossible to breathe through either your nose or your mouth while you have a cock/banana blocking your larynx, it began to dawn on me that through my eagerness to please him, I was allowing Ram to train me to become a better sub without having to go through the bother of disciplining me. Then it hit me that if this were to continue for any length of time then fantasy would very soon turn into reality and I would become a sub - his sub! Given the toe-sucking episode last time, I wondered if he would allow me to lick his feet and worship him again after he had fucked me in order to heighten my humiliation as I made myself cum or, better still, now that he thought I got off on this, make me beg for the privilege. I wanted him to be strict with me and hoped he would add some more stringent demands to his list by sending me another message on the morning of the meet. The more humiliating or challenging the orders the better, as far as I was concerned, as this would give him a pretext for punishing me should I fail to comply. I fell asleep dreaming of the chastisements that might be coming my way should I dare disappoint him... To be continued... Can't wait to sample more of my writing??? A free PDF version of the whole story is available by email from the authour at barneybumpkin@gmail.com on request To read my other writing posted on Nifty look under "B" in the Authors tab or do a search for my name.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder-18

Date: Tue, 10 Sep 2024 02:13:13 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone Subject: Training a Himbo Bodybuilder - Chapter 18 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER --CHAPTER 18 NEW EMAIL: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2024 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. The Coach uses Joey's stupidity to take advantage of him sexually, forbidding the boy to have an orgasm without permission, eventually putting him cock into a chastity cage. The naïve dumb boy just obeys his trainer knowing that, with his guidance, he will achieve his dream to become a professional bodybuilder and model. In this chapter, Joey moves in with the Coach and gives all the control to him, including all his finances. He is made to believe that having an orgasm on the competition stage has made a champion. The coach forbids the boy to orgasm on his own and is kept in chastity. He makes sure that Joey is loaded with drugs to keep him in a dazed horny reality. Now, all he can think about is muscle and cum, muscle and cum.... The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: I apologize for the long delay. Real life is tough and this is just fantasy. As my readers know, I enjoy writing about the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have a new email address: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please read ALL my stories and write to me and share your thoughts. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 18 "You will love your new life boy. You won't have to worry about anything now except taking cum and building more muscle." Coach spoke as he led Joey into the basement. "We will have to implement some new procedures along the way that you will have to obey." "Yes sir." Joey replied as he followed the Coach. He led Joey to the corner of the basement where he had a very large dog cage. Joey didn't make a comment because he wasn't usually allowed to speak. The coach leaned the boy back against the cage, facing him, as he knelt in front of the boy. "This has to go back on Joey." The coach said as he pulled out a new smaller chastity device. Joey looked at the small cage and notice there was a tube only about one inch long. How was he cock supposed to fit inside that tube. "Thank you Coach." Joey said tentatively speaking without permission. "Don't forget one very important rule here." Coach said as he forced the tube down over Joey's cock. "You should never think about your own selfish needs. This will help you remember that your orgasm is not important. You will be milked when I think you are ready. Until then, either you remain in chastity or learn to never, never ever touch your penis faggot." The boy winced as he felt his own cock being forced and squeezed into the cage. It was painful because he was semi-erect. "Should I get the ice boy?" Coach asked threateningly. Joey shook his head as he cringed watching the coach push his cock into the device. The lock clicked closed. "Good boy," Coach said as he guided the boy to his knees in front of the large dog cage. Joey hung his tongue out of his mouth to request to speak. "Speak faggot." "Coach, why do I have to sleep inside the cage Sir?" Joey meekly asked. The Coach glared at him. "I mean, I want to do what you say but...." Before he could finish, the Coach slapped him across the face. Joey was shocked as he stared at the floor rubbing his cheek. He was down on his hands and knees. "Look at me boy." Coach ordered, "I am disappointed in you faggot." He pulled the boy up by his hair and pushed over the top of the dog cage. "Sir, I will obey whatever you decide Sir.... I just wanted...." Joey said in desperation. "Shut the fuck up bitch." The coach immediately started spanking the boys ass hard. Harder. Harder. "Owww, Coach please, please" Joey started crying almost immediately, partially from the pain and partially from disappointing his mentor and idol. "At this point, (SPANK), you have no right, (SPANK) to question (spank, spank) anything that I say (spank, spank, spank)." He continued with harder spanking so that Joey's ass was already beet red. "How dare (spank) you faggot. After all (spank) I have done (spank) for you. I own you now (spank) and I (spank) can do anything (spank) I choose to do.(spank)." He continued as Joey began to cry like a baby. "You are a stupid (spank) faggot (spank) with a stupid brain (spank). I can make you (spank) rich (spank) and famous (spank) and you question me?(spank, spank)." "Ohhhh, Please, I'm sorry Sir." Joey cried. While Joey collapsed against the cage, Coach Doyle took a cock gag and shoved it into Joey's mouth, quickly strapping it around his head. Joey moaned through the gag. "Shut the fuck up (spank spank spank)" Suddenly, without warning, Joey felt his asshole penetrated. The coach shoved his cock into the boy's ass down to his balls. Joey screamed into the gag. He was being raped. The coach instantly began to rut into the boy. It was obvious that this abuse turned the Coach on sexually. The cock was rock hard pounding in and out of Joey's cunt hole. The pain was unbearable for Joey. "You know this is for your own good faggot. This is what you deserve now, you ungrateful faggot." Coach said as he pounded into Joey's muscle cunt. "You will open your cunt, and take the cum, of any man I choose for you. Don't you see faggot? This is the only way you will become rich and famous, with my guidance. You will have to give up your cunt for real men to use. " Suddenly, he drove his cock deeper into the boy. "You will never question me again." Joey shook his head and he cried through the gag. "Do you understand me? I am your owner now. You will only do whatever I tell you to do,,, nothing more and nothing less." Joey mumbled "yehhhhh Hir"... "yeth Thir" "I'm gonna give you more of my cum now boy," Coach whispered as he gently grinded into Joey's ass. "Do you want it little stupid bitch? You think you are special enough to receive this cum, fag?" "ohhhhhh yethhhh, hank uuu thir" Joey moaned. "FUCKKKKKKKK. Fucking my cum into you.... Cummmmmmminnn ugh, fucklkkddjdkkk" Coach was babbling as he emptied his balls inside Joey's cunt. "You have my seed inside you now boy." Coach said as he leaned down and gave Joey a soft kiss on the ear and pet his head like a dog. Joey actually felt better now. He knew he should never have questioned the coach. He softly cried as he laid there against the hard metal dog cage. "Its OK, you're a good boy," Coach said, "You just need some discipline to keep your head in the right place. Don't think or question anything boy, just obey. IT will be easier for you that way." Joey nodded his head as the Coach lifted him up off the cage and back down to his hands and knees. "Everything will be fine boy." Coach said, "just do as you're told from now on." He pushed Joey into the cage and locked the door. Turned off the lights and left him to sleep. The next day, the Coach got right down to business booking Joey as a gay escort. Joey was under the impression that all of this was for his modeling career but the Coach had other plans for the stupid himbo. Joey would go to events where he was asked to strip and model some very revealing thongs and bikinis. Joey loved showing off and, because of his daily dose of roids and Viagra, Joey was always semi or fully hard. "I understand as a bodybuilder," one of the patrons would say, "that you need to get daily doses of testosterone. He would casually be rubbing Joey's ass and sliding his finger across his hole. As uncomfortable as it was, Joey knew he could not deny any man who wanted feel the merchandise, anywhere on his body. Eventually, the Coach told the men that Joey needed his regular dose of testosterone and chose one of the men to donate it. Joey would be pushed over the sofa or a railing and be fucked there right in front of everyone. Ultimately, he would end up taking a dozen loads of cum orally or anally by the end of the evening. Joey was taught that it would help him build bigger muscle and was more than happy to take the cum. Unknown to the boy was that all of this had a fee, of course. In fact, men would pay just to attend the event and pay again if they wanted to actively participate with the muscle boy. By the end of the evening, Joey would have made thousands of dollars that would be directly deposited into the Coach's private accounts. After Joey was fucked and loaded with cum, the Coach would take him home and have him get back into this cage in the basement with sperm covering his face and body. He was always caged in chastity during these events and remain uncummed. Coach made sure that Joey was constantly pumped up with steroids and Viagra. He worked him in the gym, pumping his muscles for hours a day with his cock hard and begging for release. Without being allowed to ejaculate, Joey's mind was constantly on his throbbing cock, hoping for a cum. This is exactly as the Coach wanted, keeping the boy in a state of wanton lust for more cock. One evening, just as he was about to lock up the place. There was a knock on the door. It was Joey's father, Frank. He was drunk. Coach Mike opened the door and allowed Frank to stumble inside. "Boss," Frank said, "I'm sorry boss but I needed to see you. I stopped at the bar just to loosen up so I could talk to you." Frank was stumbling toward the sofa as he spoke. "Hold up Frank," Coach said as he held the man by his arm. "You're pants are wet and you're not sitting on my furniture." He pushed Frank down to the floor and stood in front of him. "Clothes off before you ruin anything Frankie." Coach said as he helped Frank strip off his clothes. Frank was a big hairy muscle guy who worked out almost every day of his life. He smelled of beer and body odor. Frank was now naked on the floor, looking up at the Coach. "What's on your mind little Frankie." Coach looked down on Frank, kneeling in front of him, and tried to straighten his messy hair. "Mike, ahhhhh Boss," Frank said softly. "I know that my Joey signed the papers and is now making some good money as a model, like he always wanted." "He's making great bucks, yup, but get to it boy" Coach said to Frank, calling him "boy". "Well Boss," I know you get his money as his business manager but I was wondering.... Hm, I was thinking... ahhh" "Don't think boy," Coach said laughing, "that's dangerous for you to think. Just say it." "Boss, I'm the boy's father and would like my fair share of the money.: There it is. He said it. Frank dropped his head waiting for a slap or push from his former buddy. But nothing happened. No punch. No slap. Frank looked up and the Coach moved in very close to him so that his bulging cock was just above his face, only an inch away. "Well, perhaps we can make that happen Frankie." Coach said as he smiled down at the former college buddy. Coach Mike Doyle wasn't a stupid man. In fact, he was smart enough to see an another perverted opportunity when it presented itself. Frank was shocked that Coach actually agreed with him. "Really Mike, ahhhhhh Boss?" Frank said. "Sure boy," Coach said as he leaned toward the man on his knees in front of him. "You did good Frankie," coach said, "you gave me your boy to train and I have done that for you. He has become a winning bodybuilder and successful model. You paid me nothing to do this but your son is now earning the money to pay me back." Frank sat back on his heels and listened. "But your son still has a way to go and needs to understand more about being disciplined and obedient. I think you could help me with this next step Frankie." "Really boss?" Frank said looking from the Coach's face to his crotch. "That's right," Coach said, "but if I am sharing the money with you, it is important that we invest it properly so we have long-term income from the boy's earnings too. So I will take care of that for you. I will take all the money and invest it so you wont have to worry about a thing." "Really boss?" Frankie said, "gee, that would be nice of you Mike This was becoming way to easy for Coach now. He chuckled to himself. "Sure, I'm happy to invest it for you boy." Coach said as he stepped forward, pushing his cock almost against Frank's mouth. Frank smelled in as the musky male odor filled his nostrils. "There are a few things you will have to do for me too Frankie," Coach said, "like the old days when we were in college." "You need me to help you stay relaxed and take your cum like the old days Mike?" "I need more than that boy. Coach said, "I think the boy needs a good role model. He needs to follow someone to set a good example for him." "Example boss?" Frank asked. "Yes Frankie," Coach said, "You will have to obey the same rules as your son. You need behave properly and demonstrate a good example for your son. You will show him, first hand, how a good obedient bodybuilder should behave to his owner." "yeah, I guess I could do that Mike." Frank said. "No more Mike, Frankie." Coach said as he rubbed his cock in Franks face. Frank did not pull away and acted like this was normal. "It will be Sir from now on. You will be my bitch, just like the ol' college days. Remember that faggot? Remember when you were my bitch because our college coach put you in chastity?" Frank lowered his head. "yeah, Mike, ahhhhhh Yes Sir." Frank said. "I was in charge of keeping your balls empty." Mike pulled Franks face back up. "Never look away unless you are told to do so faggot. Never do anything unless you are told to do so from now on. Understand?" "Yes Sir." "That's how you set the example for your boy." Frank continued, "Now, just yesterday, little Joey questioned my authority and I had to punish him. Now, we both know that I hate to punish anyone but if you disobey the rules, then discipline and punishment is essential in the training process." "Of course Sir." Frank said, "I totally understand." "Yes I know you understand." Mike said, "and that includes now." The coach lifted big Frank up by his hair. Frank did not protest. The coach led him to his desk. "If you set the right example to your son," he said, "then I will give you some of the proceeds. Frank knew that Joey already signed the papers and he really felt that he deserved some of the profits. "You will need to sign papers to make this a legal agreement." Coach pushed Frank over the desk and slapped his naked ass. As Frank looked down at the papers, the coach slid his finger into the man's asscrack and found his tight hairy asshole. "Mmmmm" Frank moaned. "This agreement will give you all the money you need Frankie." Coach chuckled knowing that, if Frank signed, it would give him power-of-attorney to have full control of Frank's money, including his investments and home. He needed to distract the stupid man so he would just sign it without reading it. "The boy is going to make enough money for both of us." Coach said as he spanked Franks ass. The man made no reaction. "Good boy Frankie," Coach said, "this will be just like the old days when we were roommates back in college. I felt bad cause the wrestling coach put you chastity to keep you away from girls. I helped you relieve the pressure in your balls, remember boy?" (Chapter 12 in this story) "You were desperate to empty those balls, remember?" "Yes Mike, ahhhh Sir." Frank said as he felt two fingers pushing into his ass. "Remember how you used to get those orgasms boy?" Coach started pumping his fingers into Frank's asshole. "I gave you anal orgasms. Only instead of my fingers, what did I use?" Frank groaned as he was being finger-fucked. "Your cock Sir," Frank replied, "you fucked me with your cock." "That's right little Frankie," Coach said, "that made you a faggot for me, didn't it boy?" "I'm not gay Sir." Frankie said as he unconsciously fucked back on the coach's fingers. "Nahhhhh, nobody said you were gay Frankie. You're just a faggot, that's all. Faggots just do as they are told. So, you will set a good example for your son to follow and tell him how much you loved my cock inside you. Right faggot?" "I love it Sir," Frank said, "I loved your cock fucking me because you helped me empty my balls too." "Right, but that's not gonna happen anymore fag." Coach warned, "You will keep the cum inside your balls just like your son. No more orgasms. You will not be allowed to lose any of your testosterone as a good example to the boy." Frank just groaned. "But I know you want that cock in there again, don't you faggot." He slapped the man's ass as he pumped his fingers in and out of his pussy hole. "OH,,,, yesssssss please Sir." Frank let out a nice loud fart as he pumped himself on the fingers. Coach chuckled. "Sign faggot," Coach ordered, "just sign and I will fuck that smelly muscle ass so good." Frank signed the papers. The coach was delighted that he now owned two faggots, father and son. He pulled his cock out and stuffed it inside the hairy bodybuilder with one deep thrust. Frank would never be the same again. After being thoroughly fucked, and his pussy loaded with Coach's sperm, Frank was told to bring his essential belongings to the Coach's house. He would now live there, with Joey, full time as the Coach's "assistant". He called Joey into his home office. Joey stood, naked, caged, in front of the Coach and his father. "Listen faggot," Coach said to Joey, " Your dad has agreed to take an active part in your training by helping you understand your place with me." Joey looked at his dad. "I'm doing it for you Joey." Frank said to his son. "I knew the Coach could make things happen. He has always made things happen for me Joey." "Show him how a good faggot thanks his new owner." Coach said to Frank. Frank immediately dropped down to his knees and kissed the coach's feet. Joey was stunned to see how submissive his father was. "He is my coach too Joey." Frank said to his son, "He knows better than me and he knows how to make you rich and famous. You need to show him your appreciation Joey. Never question him son. Don't think about what is right and what is wrong. That will get in your way moving forward." Joey was speechless. "Thank me boy." Coach said staring at Joey. The boy didn't hesitate now to kneel and kiss his feet. He looked up at him and hung his tongue out. "There is no need to speak at all faggot." Coach said, "your daddy showed you how to obey. You both signed those papers and made me your power of attorney." Coach said, "You both have a lot of work ahead of you. Joey will be my faggot and Frank, you are now my Homo. I will control everything moving forward from this day." Coach pet Joey's head. "You, faggot, will win every competition and will find a real sponsor. This sponsor will pay me for your expenses. You will be put on display for others to feel your body anywhere they choose. You do not have the right to deny any person from using your body. I will decide for you" The coach turned his attention to Joey's dad now. "And you homo," Coach said, "you're my bitch moving forward, you will only cum when I allow it." "Sir, I did what you wanted, didn't I?" "Shut up." Coach said he slapped Frank's face, "You will follow the same rules as your stupid son and show him a good example of how a stupid faggot muscle homo is supposed to behave." Frank held his cheek. "Yes Sir," Frank said as he knelt down to kiss the Coach's feet, "Im sorry Sir". "You will also take the same medications as the boy." Coach said as he pulled Frank up by the hair on his head. "These pills will keep your brain in a better place homo." The coach pushed several pills into Frank's mouth. He tried to swallow them dry. "Coach," Joey spoke up. The coach immediately slapped the boy across the face. "Never ever speak unless given permission, and I don't give you permission. If you wish to speak, you hang your tongue out like a dog and wait for me to allow you to speak. Understood?" Joey rubbed his cheek and seemed shell shocked and couldn't speak. "At least your dad isn't as stupid as you faggot," Coach quietly laughed, "but he will be soon." He lifted Franks face up and spit into his mouth several times. "That will help you swallow those pills homo." He said as he watched Frank swallow again. Coach turned back to Joey. "At least your dad knew what was best for you boy. He gave you to me." He pushed Joey forward on his hands and knees as he continued to talk. "I will take good care of both of you now, as long as you obey the rules. Rules are good for you. Rules will make you better and stronger." He pushed Frank backwards so he was now sitting on the floor. He continued to speak as he reached down and removed Frank's chastity cage. "Ahhh thanks Boss," Frank said. "You shut up too Homo," Coach yelled back, "there is still one more thing to do before we go any farther. He needs to understand that I am the best thing to ever happen to him." He pushed Frank backwards so now he was laying on his back. He gently began to play with Frank's enormous cock. It slowly grew to its 10" length. The drugs he gave Frank will keep him horny and hard for hours. He moved Joey to staddle his father on his hands and knees, facing him. He was still caged. "Arch your back like I taught you faggot." Coach said, `Show me where you want that cock." Joey lifted his ass up in the air and immediately felt a hard slap. Joey shook in surprise and his daddy held him still. "Don't move faggot." Coach yelled as he slapped his ass again. "You can hold onto your daddy but, remember, you belong to me now and I'll discipline you whenever I want." The slaps kept coming and his ass turned bright pink. He felt a finger rubbing against his hole in between slaps. Joey started to cry and some tears dripped onto his father's face. Frank reached up and kissed the boy on the lips. "Its OK son," Frank whispered into the boy's ear, "if the coach thinks you need this, then be a good boy, and take it." Joey kept his ass up but buried his face into his father's neck, crying. Finally, the slaps stopped. Joey was sobbing. Frank was petting the back of his head. "That's my good boy." Frank said. Coach pushed one, then two fingers, into the boys asshole. "Now I think we should celebrate this wonderful event." Coach said as he lined up Frank's cock at the entrance of the boy's pussy. "You are going to fuck yourself on your daddy's cock." Both men moaned, knowing this has happened before and they loved it. "I know you love this boy," Coach said "but there are always rules now." "I do not want you to cum inside the boy homo." Coach said to Frank. "You cum only when I allow it, just like your son here. If you want a piece of the profits, you will have to show me your obedience now." "Sit down on your daddy's cock, faggot." Coach ordered, "I want you to sink all the way to the base and hold it there. There is no moving at all. Both of you need to know your place now, because you are both too dumb to do this on your own." Coach started pushing Joey onto his fathers cock. "You both will do this my way and from now on. There will be no orgasm without my direct permission. Homo Frankie, I want you to stay as still as possible while your son fucks himself on your cock. You are not allowed to move or cum, so if you get close, tell me and the boy will stop fucking and just sit and grind on your cock. Just be sure you do not ejaculate." Frank moaned as Joey started fuckin himself on his dad's cock now. "Ohhhh fuck Sir," Frank moaned, "my boy is so tight." Joey loved this position and alternated between bouncing up and down and grinding himself on his daddy's cock. "Ohhhh fuck." Joey moaned "Boy, you need to fuck your daddy quietly." Coach said, "No noise my faggot." "Ohhhh fuck Coach." Frank groaned. Joey's father was in his own world now, grinding his cock into his son's beautiful muscle hole. "Fuck, Im gonna cum." Frank said, "Please make him stop Sir or I'll cum inside his pussy." Frank yelled as he held his son perfectly still. "Hold up faggot," Coach said, "just grind on your daddy's cock now. I know you love that." "Ohhhhh, yes Sir Coach." Joey moaned as he sat down circled his ass on the cock. The coach move behind the two sweaty men and pushed Joey down against his father's chest. He lined up his cock with Joey's plugged hole. "Don't move or make a sound faggot. Now just relax." The coach forced his cock into Joey's pussy, forcing it slowly up against Frank's throbbing cock. Joey stifled his groan. "UGHGHHHGHHHhhhhhh" Joey growled. "Just hold still and take the cocks faggot." Coach said as he stuffed his cock to the base into Joey's hole. "You'll be doing this from now on and you'll learn to crave being stuffed with cock. Cock will make you great. Look down at your daddy and repeat it faggot." "Cock will make me great." Coach said "Cock will make me great." Joey struggled to repeat it, looking at his daddy as directed. "That's right faggot." Coach said, "Say.... I love cock." "I love .... Ugh.....cock Coach," Joey said as he felt the Coach start to pump into his ass. Frank was still holding still. Coach then yelled, "Cock will make me great." "Ahhhhhhh, fuckkkkk" Joey yelled, "Cock will make me great" Frank was groaning and trying to not cum. "Fuck, I feel your cock rubbing against mine Sir. Your cock is gonna make me bust. Please let me cum inside him Sir." After getting his cock buried in Joey's ass, the coach started pumping into the boys' hole, taking longer strokes. He was rubbing against Franks throbbing, leaking fuck stick. Joey started to move too. Joey loved it now. Two huge cocks inside of him, ready to breed him with potent protein hormone. Eventually, Joey began to fuck himself on the cocks. Frank was so close that he couldn't even speak now. He just groaned. "It's OK Daddy, but you should obey the Coach too," Joey said as he pulled on his dad's nipples and started to bounce up and down. Both men were trying to hold their cum back but their cocks were rubbing together inside Joey's cunt hole. It was impossible to not cum. "Beg for cum boy." Coach said as he slapped Joey's ass. "Please, please," joey said, "I love cock, I love cum, I love muscle." "Boss, fuck, please let me cum inside the boy." Frank knew that he needed permission from now on, just like his son. Coach Mike was in charge now. Frank and his son Joey, were just mindless muscle himbos now. "You have agreed to give me the boy, Frankie" Coach said as he grinded up against the mans cock. "You have also agreed to abide by my rules from now on. You delivered your son to me so you have earned the right to cum inside your boy. After, you will be caged up immediately until you have earned your next cum. Cum little homo Frankie." "Yes sir," Frank moaned, "Your cock is rubbing against mine in my boy's ass. FUCKKKKK. I cant hold it boss. FUCKKKKK cumming now.... Ohhhhhh fuck yessssss." Joey was not paying attention and focused on his pussy being doubled fucked. He held still as he felt his father's cum spraying inside his hole. He realized how much he really loved this moment. The coach held still as he felt Frank's cock pulsing along side his own inside the boy. "Ohhhh Daddy, yesssss, thank you. Fill me with cum Daddy." Joey said as he held still and felt his pussy being filled with cum. Frank started fucking again. He was close to his own orgasm. "Take a second load of cum boy." Coach yelled as he dumped his load inside the boy. Joey had two loads of delicious cum inside him. He collapsed against his father , chest to chest, as the coach laid down against his back. He dropped his head and licked the back of the boy;s ear. As the two men recovered, they laid against each other. "Your Daddy has offered to help more with your training boy." Coach whispered into Joey's ear loud enough for Frankie to hear. "He will show you how to behave by setting a good example for you to observe and learn too. Isn't that right Frankie?" "yes Sir." Frank said softly "You're my homo now too, aren't you Frankie?" Coach said "Yes Sir, I am your homo, my boy is your faggot now. " Frank said. "That's right homo," Coach smiled, "at least your smart enough to understand that." He pulled out of the boy's pussy. "Why don't we clean up here and then talk about the new rules." ---TO BE CONTINUED---- READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. Other stories: Becoming the Executive Assistant My Uncles Farm Trained by my Step Dad The Coach's Assistant The Military Recruit Becoming the Team Coxswain My StepDad Knows Best (Gay and Bisexual) Trucker's Boy My stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas. I have only ONE more final chapter to write here and have already started another story. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I will always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. ` Please email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I will answer ALL emails. Thanks guys.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brains-over-brawn/brains-over-brawn-1

Date: Sat, 25 Aug 2001 15:36:11 EDT From: MaineBoyXY@aol.com Subject: Brains Over Brawn Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn By MaineBoyXY@aol.com Kneeling there, naked, I couldn't believe that I'd gotten myself into this fucking predicament. There I was, a senior, captain of the soccer team, one of the most popular guys in school, humiliating myself in front of this sophomore math nerd. As he held my head by the hair with one hand, I saw the other reaching for his fly and lowering his zipper. I shuddered as he reached in, and then did a double take as I saw the long, thick cock he produced. Fuck, who the hell would have known that this scrawny geek would be hung like that? But then, who would have known yesterday that I'd be here on my knees in front of him, getting ready to suck his cock? It all started Monday when that jackass Jason Martin told me about the mid-term. Jason was on my team, but he was a crappy student. We were both in Mrs. Gresham's Intro to Calc class, and Jason was scared shitless that he was going to fail it, and that if he did he wouldn't make the grades to graduate in the spring. I felt OK about it; I wasn't a crappy student. But when Jason told me about his foolproof plan to ace the exam, my ears perked up. I was looking at graduating with a 3.2 or so, but slamming this mid-term could bump that up to the mid-3's, and that would only look better when I closed the deal on this soccer scholarship. I mean, the plan sounded simple. Mrs. Gresham was a new teacher, and she didn't lock her file cabinets. She figured that the lock on the classroom door would keep anyone from getting into her stuff, but Jason and I knew that you could use a credit card to get passed the door lock. We'd done it our junior year when we T.P.'ed our coach's office in the gym after we won the regional championship. So all we had to do was wait until after everyone left for the day, head into her room, find the exams, and copy the questions. Since Coach liked to leave right after practices, he'd given me a key to the gym side door to lock up after everyone left for home. It was no big deal, Coach trusted me: his wife and my Mom worked at the bank together, and he'd known me since I was a kid. So, we used the key to get into the gym, and then from there broke into Mrs. Gresham's room. When we went through her file cabinet, we hit the jackpot! Not only were the exam questions in there, so was the answer key. Now all we had to do was copy down the answers. So we did. On Wednesday morning, I wrote the answers in pencil inside my shirt cuff. When the exam started that afternoon, I surreptitiously unbuttoned my cuff and I could see the answers by tilting my hand while I colored in those annoying little bubbles on the answer sheet. By the middle of the exam, I was flying high; I knew I was going to pull this off. That was right about the time I looked up and saw him. Ryan, Mrs. Gresham's little ass-kissing teacher's aide. He was some kind of math whiz, and he had brown-nosed his way into becoming the aide during his period study hall, probably to make himself feel important. He had been walking up and down the aisles, smirking and lording his superiority over the seniors struggling over an exam I guess he thought he could bang through in five minutes. Early on, I'd kept an eye on him, just to make sure I didn't look obvious while he was on my aisle. I guess he'd changed his pattern of alternating aisles though, because I didn't even realize he was on mine -- he had changed to walk down my aisle from the back of the classroom, not the front. I had just flicked my wrist when I caught the motion of movement at my side. When I looked up, his gaze was on my cuff. He turned his green eyes to mine and mouthed silently, "Busted." My blood turned to ice. Instantly, my mind played through the scenario: being expelled for cheating, losing the scholarship, all of my college applications being rejected for an honors violation, my parents finding out, Coach learning of my betrayal of his trust. My heart was pounding like I'd just finished a sprint, and by the time my brain returned to the present, I realized that Ryan hadn't broken stride. He'd kept walking; there he was turning the around to walk down the next aisle. Had I imagined it? Then, I saw him as he turned his head to me, and I saw that wicked smile. I knew what it meant. It meant he wasn't going to rat me out, he wanted something from me. I didn't know what it was, but I felt my pulse slowing to normal as I realized there was going to be a way out, that maybe I hadn't ruined my whole life all because of that bastard Jason Martin and his fucking ideas. After that, I buttoned my cuff. I don't know why, the damage was done, but I was too shaken to keep up the act now. I'd made a close escape with Ryan, but I didn't want one of my classmates to catch me, I guess. I finished the last half of the exam on my own. When Mrs. Gresham announced that time was up, I noticed that Ryan was standing beside the door. No doubt he wanted everyone to see him there as they left, so he could smile condescendingly at them. I wonder why Ryan hadn't had the shit beaten out of him by anyone yet. I knew he'd want to tell me about his planned trade, so I made sure I was the last to turn in my answer sheet at the desk, and the last to head out the door. When I got to him, Ryan caught my wrist -- the one with the cuff evidence -- and guided me out the door. He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. "Do you have any more exams?" he asked. "Not today, my last one is Government tomorrow." "What are you doing now?" "Going home to study for it," I answered. "So you actually study for some of your exams, Alex?" he asked sarcastically. I felt like laying into him right there, but I knew it would be a mistake, considering he could still rat me out, and I was still wearing the evidence. "Yeah," I muttered, defeated. "Mrs. Gresham, I'll be back in a minute to help clean up. I've got to run to the restroom," he said, ducking his head back through the doorway. He released my wrist. "OK, let's go." "Go where?" "To your locker, you need your stuff before you leave, right?" I was a little confused, I thought we were just going to work out the trade, but he had more in mind. We went to my locker and I grabbed my last book, the Government text I'd use to study, and my jacket. He then walked with me until we got to the men's room, and directed me inside. He checked to make sure the stalls were empty, then turned back to me. "Take it off," he said. "What?" I asked, completely lost. "The shirt. I want it. So you can't back out on me later." "Come on, Ryan. I know you've got me by the balls, just tell me what you want and I'll do it. I don't want to get expelled one semester away from graduation." "Then give me your shirt. I don't want you destroying the evidence before I get what I want." There wasn't going to be any way out of this. I knew if Ryan went back now, he'd tell Mrs. Gresham. Sure I could run home and wash the pencil out of the shirt, but he'd tell her, and she'd look at my answers, and the fact that I had the right answer to every question the first half of the exam would back him up. I mean, I'm an OK student, but I'm not a fucking nerd. We both knew, though, that later on, after the exams were graded, his position to accuse me would be weakened without proof. I didn't know what he wanted, but I figured it had to be fairly innocuous. He probably wanted me to be his friend or something the rest of the year, so he could tell people how cool he was that I liked him. Fuck, was I wrong. Anyway, I unbuttoned my shirt and handed it over. I guess I didn't notice him staring at my chest while I took the shirt off, but he just grabbed it from me and told me that was all for now. He'd call me Friday night, and I'd better not have any plans. He left the bathroom, and I put on my jacket, zipped it up and went home. *** The phone rang at about 7 o'clock on Friday night. I knew it would be Ryan before I answered it. "Hey, Alex, got any plans tonight?" he asked needling me. "No, I kept my social calendar clear just for you, Ryan." "Listen, jock boy, you'd better make an attitude adjustment, because I own your ass now, don't I?" I shuddered. Great, a pompous nerd, and now he owned me. But he was right. "Yeah, I guess you do. So what do you want?" "I want you to come over to my house. We'll talk about it when you get here." He gave me the address. My family is comfortably middle class, but Ryan's house was apparently nestled in the upscale part of town. I hopped into my Civic and drove over. When I got to Ryan's place, it was huge. Brick Victorian, three stories, manicured lawn and hedges. I never pictured Ryan having come from this kind of background, but thinking back I realized he was pretty preppy for a geek. A lot of the math-science-computer losers wore ratty jeans and T-shirts, but Ryan wore khakis and button-down oxfords like I did. He wore glasses, but they weren't thick, Coke-bottle glasses, just thin, steel-rimmed ones. Most nerds have long, kind of unkempt hair, but Ryan's blond hair was always neat, in a fashionable, average-length style. As I parked in the empty driveway, I realized that if Ryan weren't such a pretentious, ass-kissing jerk, he wouldn't be that bad of a guy, probably. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being his friend for the rest of the year; maybe it would mellow him out and do some good. When I rang the bell, I almost expected a servant of some sort to answer, but when the door opened there was Ryan, beaming. "Hey there, Alex. Found the place OK?" he asked jovially. "Um, yeah, nice place." He was being way too nice for some reason, and it caught me off guard. "Come on in, can I get you something to drink?" "Nah, I'm OK, let's just get down to business." "All good things come to those who wait." After negotiating the maze of hallways, we entered a kitchen that looked like it belonged to the head chef of a five-star restaurant. It was an immaculate collection of tile and stainless steel. Ryan walked over to the refrigerated, selected a bottle of water, and twisted off the cap. He hoisted himself up onto the counter and started swinging his bare feet gleefully. "Soccer's over for the year, isn't it?" he asked. I answered that it was. "It must be a lot of work keeping up with classes and your busy social life while practice and games take up so much time," he commented nonchalantly, and then took a swig of water. His eyes never left me. "I do OK," I replied. "Until Wednesday." I looked at him darkly. He was an asshole. "That was the only time I've ever cheated, and it wasn't even my idea," I retorted. His eyes brightened as I realized my mistake. "Oh, really?" he asked rhetorically, a note of enthusiasm in his voice. "We can get to that later. I guess you're curious to know what the plan is, aren't you?" "Yeah, I guess so, I just want to get this over with." "Well, it's not going to be that simple." He hopped off the counter, leaving his water behind. He walked over until he stood less than a foot in front of me. "I think this is going to be a bit of a long-term proposition. You see, you're going to be my bitch from now on." As he said it, he took his eyes off mine, and looked down at my crotch. It only took a split second as my right hand pulled back, but he backed away before I could punch him. "Don't be an idiot, Alex. Like you said the other day in the restroom, I've got you by the balls. Think about it, expulsion. The humiliation. What are those colleges lining up at your door now going to say? What are your parents going to say? What are you going to do if you piss your life away on a Calculus exam?" Every word was true, and I'd known it that split second after he'd caught me Wednesday afternoon. "But I'm not gay," I said. "I don't care," he retorted. I looked him over. He was a couple inches shorter than my 6'2", and at least 30 pounds lighter. There was no way he weighed more than 140. "Why don't I just beat the crap out of you now? It's Friday, the earliest you could blow the whistle about the exam is Monday, and they'll be graded by then. And, it's going to look awfully strange that you didn't say anything about it Wednesday when you caught me, isn't it?" "Because I've got the shirt, and you don't know where it is. It might not even be here, right? And if it were, could you look through the entire house to find it? Besides, I think going in all beaten up on Monday is going to be plenty of back up for my story. Face it, Alex, you're screwed." He was right. I was screwed. I was completely and utterly defeated. I looked at the floor, and when I did, he knew I was done. He walked back to me until his body nearly pressed into mine. He grabbed a fist full of my brown hair, and turned my head so he could stare into my blue eyes. I felt his other hand slip between us, and close around my crotch. I felt like I was going to throw up. I clenched my eyes shut. "Open them," he commanded in a stern voice. I kept them closed as imagined scenes of gay sex whirled around in my head. I felt his grip tighten on my package as he repeated his order. "Open them." I opened them, and his eyes left mine and moved to my lips. "Leave them open," he said, and then moved in. I felt his lips on mine. He pulled a millimeter away. "Kiss back, Alex." I stared at a fixed point on the wall behind them as I felt his lips press against mine. I kissed him. I felt his tongue graze my mouth, and I opened for him. He released my hair as we kissed, and I felt his hands on my back pulling me into him. They slid slowly down my back to my ass, and he left them resting there. I wanted to break away, I wanted to run, but my mind kept showing me in front of Mr. Perkins, the principal, with my Mom crying in the background and Dad shaking his head in shame, Coach frowning, and college admissions doors slamming in my face. He broke the kiss and stepped back. I looked at him, and his face was flushed. I turned my gaze to the floor at his feet, and on the way down, I saw a prominent bulge in his crotch. "Do you want to go upstairs to my room, Alex?" Still looking at the floor, I nodded. "Look at me, and tell me. Do you want to go up to my room?" I looked up to him, and I heard my voice answer from somewhere in the room, "Yes, Ryan, let's go to your room." With that, he turned, and we walked back down the corridor to the stairway. It was wide and covered in richly toned plush carpeting. I followed him up two flights of stairs, down another hallway, and into a large bedroom. One wall was paneled with large windows, and the curtains and shades were open onto the December night. The room was painted a deep lapis, and where most guys his age would have posters of rock bands or pin up girls (or guys, I guess), he had oil seascapes. There was an antique bed in one corner, maybe of mahogany, and an armoire stood at its foot. A bookshelf lined the wall perpendicular to the windows, and opposite the windows was his desk. It was an elegant room. He turned to me. "You can get undressed here." I looked at him. For some reason, I was surprised at his suggestion, and then it just sunk in. I looked at him blankly, and then I began fingering the buttons on my shirt. I removed it, my undershirt, and my khakis after slipping off my shoes, folding each and laying them on the desk. When I stood only in boxers and socks, he motioned me over to him. "This doesn't have to be bad, Alex." He reached up and began to stroke my bare chest with his fingertips. His light touch and the chill made me break out in goosebumps and the hair stood up on the back of my neck. I'd fucked a couple of girls before, but this made me feel like a virgin bride. He was being tender, but I knew the malice that lay behind the facade. "Do you want to undress me, Alex?" I looked away. "Alex? Look at me," he demanded. I looked at him. "Do you want to undress me?" I nodded. "Tell me." Again, I heard my voice from somewhere in the room, "Ryan, can I take your clothes off?" He smiled and lifted my hands to his collar. I undid each button slowly, and then I pulled his shirttails out from the waist of his khakis. I slipped it off his shoulders and then took hold of his undershirt. He raised his arms over his head, and I tugged it off. I dropped the undershirt to the floor. "Fold my clothes and put them on the desk with yours." Mechanically, I picked up his shirts, folded them and laid them on the desk. When I turned to walk back to him, his shirtless body registered with me for the first time. He was basically skin and bones, and I could see ribs below his small, pink nipples. His chest, like mine, was virtually hairless. "Stop! Take off your underwear while you're over there," he instructed. I looked at him, and then I looked down at my almost naked self. I looked back at him, and I saw that his bulge was still poking into his trousers. I wanted to beg not to have to go through with this. "Alex?" I looked up at his face. "Take off your underwear," he said softly. With that, I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of my boxer shorts and slid them to the floor. I picked them up, folded them, and laid them on the desk with the other piles of clothes. When I turned again, I saw him staring at my crotch. "Come here," he whispered. I returned to my place in front of him. He put his hands on my shoulders, and gently pressed down. I knew what he wanted, so I bent my knees and kneeled. He moved one hand to my hair, and began to muss it. The other went to his fly, which he unzipped. He reached in and pulled an 8" cock as thick around as an Eisenhower silver dollar. I was stunned. He was rock hard, and a dribble of precum oozed from his slit. "Alex, I know this is going to be your first time sucking cock, so I'm going to go easy. It's not going to be as bad as you think it is. Once you get used to the idea, it will be fine. You've had girls go down on you, right?" I nodded. "Then you know what to do." I looked up at him. He smiled, not his usual asshole smile, but a friendly smile. I wondered whether he thought we were going to become lovers. It didn't occur to me to wonder whether I might want us to. He took a half step in and used his free hand to guide his cock to my face. I felt the slimy wetness as the cockhead made contact with my cheek. I could feel the heat of it, and I smelled its warmth. It smelled musky, like I guess all guys' cocks do, the sort of smell you find in greater concentration in any locker room. But he was clean, and the smell was faint. He softly rubbed his cock over my face, and then pointed it to my lips. "I'm ready now, Alex, I want you to open your mouth." I clenched my eyes shut. "Leave your eyes open. Now, take a minute to think about your options. Then, when you're ready, tell me." I looked up at him. He stared down patiently. I thought about that bastard Jason Martin, and I thought about all the other scenes. I desperately tried not to think that I was kneeling here, naked, in front of this underclassman, feeling his dick resting on my lips. I sighed, the smell of his cock reminded me anyway. "I'm ready," I whispered. "Ready for what?" "I'm ready to suck your cock," I said, and with that, he began to slide it into my mouth. The taste was not what I expected. Even though his cock was hard as a rock, the head was moist and spongy as it rested on my tongue. I could taste the precum, and it was kind of smoky and bleachy and salty all at once. It took a couple seconds for the shock of having a guy's cock in my mouth to wear off. Then I remembered why it was there and what I was supposed to do. I figured that the sooner he got off, the sooner it would be over with. I began to suck on the head of his cock. "Hey! Cover your teeth with your lips, dammit!" he yelled down at me. I'd had teeth on my cock before and I knew it didn't feel good. I curled my lips up tightly against his shaft. I was remembering the things I liked in a blowjob, so I tried to repeat them for Ryan. I started licking the head of his dick as it lay passively on my tongue. He liked that, because I could feel more precum oozing from his slit. I was looking at his face, and I saw him staring at me, with his cock in my mouth, through hooded eyelids. He started rocking his hips back and forth in a gentle roll, sliding maybe two more inches between my lips. It didn't take long before he closed his eyes and his head fell back. He started moaning and biting his bottom lip as I kept up the suction and swung my tongue back and forth under his shaft. I started to think about what I was going to do once the inevitable orgasm struck, but he solved that problem for me. "I'm getting close, Alex. When I shoot, I want you to hold it in your mouth, don't swallow it." With that, both hands clutched my head, and his knees began to shake a bit as he pistoned the upper half of his cock in and out of my mouth. He was grunting, and I could see every muscle in his wimpy chest and abdomen spasming, and then I felt and tasted the first shot. It was thick like phlegm on my tongue, and it kept firing out, hitting the back of my throat and the sides of my cheeks, and my mouth became full with spunk and cock. It tasted like his precum, but stronger, and I could feel it pulsing through his shaft between my lips. There were at least a half dozen shots, and I didn't think I could hold any more without either swallowing or gagging. Finally, he stopped thrusting and left his cock head and an inch of shaft in my mouth. He looked down at me, and his whole upper body was flushed. He was damp with perspiration. He smiled at me and panted to catch his breath. He slowly pulled his cock from my mouth, and I kept my lips tight to keep from spilling his cum. When he was free, he let go of my head. "Open your mouth," he ordered. I tilted my head up and opened my lips, revealing my mouthful of cum. "You were really good, I shot a really big load." He was in a really good mood, but then, I usually was too after a blowjob. But, I had always been on the receiving end before tonight. He reached his cock in to dab some cum out, and then smeared it on my cheek. He repeated this with the other cheek, my forehead, and then down my nose. I could feel it cooling and drying on my face. "You can swallow the rest now." The idea was kind of gross, but it had been in my mouth for a couple minutes now, and his cock had been in there for a while, so I just opened my throat and let it slide down. "How was it for you?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was sarcastic or sincere. "Uh, well, it was...well...." I didn't know what to say. He frowned and for a minute I thought I'd hurt his feelings, but then the look was gone. "Clean my dick off," he said and plunged it back into my mouth. I sucked the residual spunk off it and then he pulled it free. He began to unfasten his belt and khakis, and I realized he was still rock hard. "Well, that's the preview portion of our performance behind us. Are you ready for the feature attraction, Alex?" And with that he dropped his pants and briefs to the floor and smiled at me expectantly.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder-19

Date: Wed, 13 Nov 2024 03:53:39 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone Subject: Training a Himbo Bodybuilder - Chapter 19 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER --CHAPTER 19 NEW EMAIL: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2024 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. The Coach uses Joey's stupidity to take advantage of him sexually, forbidding the boy to have an orgasm without permission, eventually putting him cock into a chastity cage. The naïve dumb boy just obeys his trainer knowing that, with his guidance, he will achieve his dream to become a professional bodybuilder and model. In this chapter, Joey moves in with the Coach and gives all the control to him, including all his finances. He is made to believe that having an orgasm on the competition stage has made him a champion. The coach forbids the boy to orgasm on his own and is kept in chastity. Now, Coach forces Joey's father, Frank, to become a slave to him, making him the new role model for Joey to follow. His father is as stupid as Joey is. He makes sure that both men are loaded with drugs to keep them dazed, horny and under his control. The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: I apologize for the long delay. Real life is tough and this is just fantasy. As my readers know, I enjoy writing about the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have a new email address: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please read ALL my stories and write to me and share your thoughts. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 19 That evening, both father and son, crawled into their large dog cages for the nite. Both were put in chastity with collar attached to the side of the dog cage. "You are both being caged for different reasons." Coach explained as he closed and locked the door. "Faggot needs to know his place among men. For now, he is just a piece of muscle meat, being used by superior men. They will dump their cum into you and you will gladly take the sperm for further muscle growth." He locked Joey into the cage and moved on to his father. Both men were about the same size, over 6 feet and 240lbs, but were able to be squeezed into the large cage. "Homo, here, is simply here to set a good example for his boy. You will show your son the proper way to respect superior men and he will learn from your behavior. You both will obey the same rules set for stupid bodybuilders but focusing on building the faggot's muscle to bring us more money." The Coach tuned the lights off. "Tomorrow we have an event for the faggot to become the spokesperson for a protein powder. You will be sprinkled with the powder and other stupid muscle boys will lick it off. I bought you a nude color gstring thong so you will appear naked as they lick you. You will not wear the cage but you will not be allowed to cum either." He closed the door. "Good nite bitches" The next day, that is exactly what happened. After their morning workout, Joey, wearing a nude g-string, was put in front of a crowd and douced with white powder. He looked like the white marble statue of David, only with bigger muscle. During the photo shoot, they moved Joey into different positions, always rubbing his bulging pouch. Eventually, the assistants were told to lick the protein powder off his body. Joey came very close to cumming but his father was there to prevent it. At one point, the boys' cock slipped out of the thong and the lickers attacked it, sucking it into their mouth. Joey was driven to the edge over and over. After his body was licked clean, Joey's cock was fully exposed and throbbing. Looking at his coach, he dropped his tongue out of his mouth. "Speak boy" Coach said to him quietly. "Please coach," Joey pleaded, "please make me cum Sir." "You know the routine boy," Coach whispered, "the men are here to watch you pose and give them a nice show. You will pose for them, including the new poses I taught you." Joey knew the poses. Besides the regular bodybuilding poses, Joey would include movements like a sexy male stripper. He would bend over and pull open his ass cheeks, he would grind his pelvis up close to the men, he would pull his own nipples as far out as possible while squatting down low with his legs spread wide open. "If you do a good job, some men will want to fuck you. That is what I want. It's a win-win situation because they will pay extra money to fuck you and you will get the testosterone you need for bigger muscle." At that point, the Coach slid his finger inside his thong strap and felt Joey's pussy hole. "mmmmm coach," Joey moaned "Shut up boy," Coach choked him, "no noise without permission." Then Joey felt something being pushed up inside him. He stood still. He waited. Then the vibrations began. Joey stifled a groan but knew the routine. If he did a good job, his Coach would allow him to cum. That's all he could think about now. He learned to love the vibrator and it motivated him to pose and be sexy. Frank also knew the routine. His father, in sexy sheer spandex shorts, would orchestrate the demonstration and, eventually the bukkake fucking of his son. As the Coach walked around and mingled with the guests, Frank removed the vibrator and stood by his son, collecting the cash as the men stood in line to fuck, and gangbang him. Over a dozen men paid $100 to fuck the sexy bodybuilder. Joey was stuffed again and led to the middle of the crowd. With cum dripping out of his ass and plastered over his face, the vibrator was put on high speed. Joey posed with his cock throbbing and pulsing. Coach stood back and smiled. He trained the boy well. Joey was edging himself and trying to not cum until allowed. Finally, the boy couldn't take it any longer and dropped his tongue out in front of the men. He was completely humiliated but didn't care anymore. He didn't think about anything except wanting or orgasm. Coach saw his tongue. "No noise boy," Coach said, "we know you want to cum, don't you?" Joey anxiously nodded. "Should we let him cum gentlemen?" Coach announced. "The poor boy is trying so hard to hold back his orgasm because he'll be punished if he cums without permission." "No cum" the men yelled "Keep posing boy." Coach knew exactly what he was doing. He would make the boy cum without giving him permission and, therefore, warrant a nice spanking punishment in front of all the men. "Ughhhhh" Joey groaned, "huh, huh, huh, huh" He was thrusting his pelvis into the air with his cock literally bouncing up and down. "Look at that throbbing cock, gentlemen," Coach said, "it just needs to spill its cum out, doesn't it? Poor Joey faggot. You know only faggots cum, don't they gentlemen." Coach was walking around Joey and, from behind, reached around and grabbed his nipples, pulling them out hard." "Are you a faggot who needs to cum?" Coach teased and the men laughed. Coach held Joey's nipples and twisted them. "UGHHHHHHHHHHHHh" Joey yelled now, "cumminggggggggggg Sirrrr. Faggot is cumminggggggg." His cum sprayed out of his cock without anything touching it. The dildo in his ass was vibrating on high speed and Joey was no longer in reality. He was in the land of ecstasy.... Wonderful orgasm ecstasy. He dropped to the floor. He was afraid to look up. No words were spoken. The Coach angrily pulled up the boy by the hair and dragged him to a bench. He threw him over the bench and tied his hands and feet down. "The boy obviously needs to learn a lesson for cumming without permission, gentlemen." The men came closer as the Coach began spanking the boy. Frank moved in front of his son, with his own caged cock in the boy's face. He pet the boy's face as he spoke. "You were wrong to cum boy." Frank said to him as the other men helped with the spanking. "You know you deserve to be spanked now so be a good boy and hold still for the men." Joey's ass was already beat red and he was sobbing into his father's hands. "Don't cry boy," Frank said, "you'll get used to it, just like I did." Coach invited the men to spank the boy. "Your daddy's right, faggot." Coach said, "Homo here knows how to properly behave, don't you homo?" Coach pushed Frank to his knees and pushed his crotch in front of his face. "Look at me and stick that tongue out homo." Coach pulled Franks hair to look up at him. "You know how to be a good boy, don't you homo?" Coach slapped Franks face. "Yeth Hir" Frank said as he kept his focus on the Coach's face. "Look at your daddy faggot." Joey could see his father while still being spanked by the other men. Joey was trying to suppress his sobbing. "You a good boy?" Coach slapped Frank again. Frank simply nodded with his tongue out. "What do good boy's do little homo?" "Thond ink thir,' ust opey." Frank tried to speak with his tongue out. "Good boy for keeping your tongue out," Coach said squeezing the man's chin, "but go ahead and tell me straight." "Good boys don't think Sir." Frank said as the coach pet his face. "It's better if a bodybuilder just focuses on building muscle with his coach and follow his instructions." "Right homo," Coach said, "are you listening faggot?" They stopped spanking Joey and he lay prone, with his red ass in the air as he listened. "Why is it important for your son to realize he is a faggot?" "Faggots need cum Sir." Frank replied, "he has to be a faggot so men know that he wants more cum for his muscle growth. A winning bodybuilder is not capable of doing this on his own. He needs help from his coach, his sponsors, and all the muscle cum in order to succeed or he is doomed to fail." "Do you hear that faggot?" Coach said, "Your daddy is a stupid homo but at least he knows how faggots need cum. You are a faggot Joey and you need cum." Joey nodded because he knew he shouldn't speak. "All you need to worry about now is getting as much cum inside you as possible before the next competition. If you do that, you will become a champion." "Thir?" Joey held his tongue out. "You can speak faggot." Coach smiled at him. "Will you help me Coach?" Joey asked, "my competition is next week and I need to win" "Of course you need to win boy." The coach said, "You will do exactly as I say and you will win faggot. In fact, I have organized a way for you to get your cum right now." Coach smiled at him. "Take this pill first faggot." Joey swallowed immediately. "Follow me. both of you." Frank and his son crawled behind the Coach into the next room. The room was dark and smelled like a used lockerroom. Joey could see about a dozen men in various stages of nudity, mostly wearing only a jockstrap. "You both will need to drink this to keep you relaxed." Coach handed each of them a glass and both men drank the liquid. "You will have no more worries now faggot," Coach said, "I will take good care of all your possessions. Everything will belong to me so you don't have to think about anything except muscle and cum. You both will have a good life now. The men will put their cum inside you and you will use that hormone for bigger muscle growth." "When we get back, we are going to simplify your finances to make it easier for you." Coach said, " you will always have money... say maybe 10 dollars. The rest you will turn over to me for safe keeping. You will always have ten dollars with you in case of emergency, but that's all you can carry. I will make all other financial arrangements so you won't have to worry about anything." "Oh thank you Sir." Frank said. "Yes Coach," Joey said, "thank you for all your guidance Sir." All the money will come to me for safe keeping. You will owe nothing to anyone except payments to me and I will take that directly from your earnings from escorting.... Ah, I mean, from your modeling jobs and your sponsors." The coach pulled Joey to another bench with knee pads and straps. "Frank, I want you to tie your son down on the bench." Coach ordered, "Make his holes accessible for the hormone deposits. I have scheduled a dozen men to put their cum into the boy." "Yes Coach," Frank said, "thank you SIR." He strapped his son to the bench, bendiong him over as quickly as possible. He then pulled his hands behind his back and tied them together. The coach put a blindfold on the boy and secured his head upward so his mouth would remain open and ready for deposits of sperm. "Frank, you will watch the men use your son and fill him up with the cum he needs." "Of course Sir," Frank replied then looked at Joey, "my boy knows what is good for him." "If they want to give him a second load," Coach continued, "You will need to suck their cocks to keep them primed to fuck your son again." "Yes Coach." Frank knelt down near his son, ready to suck any cock before it fucked his son. As the men entered, they paid Coach who pointed to the boy. Frank sucked them before they deposited their seed into the boy. Frank tried hard to get them close to cumming so that they wouldn't fuck Joey for too long before cumming. The men were thrilled to use a powerful, award winning bodybuilder, like a slutty whore, slapping his ass to keep it red while they fucked him at both ends. Joey made little noise as he was filled with cum. Cum from anyone who wanted to fuck a famous bodybuilder. They fucked him hard and verbally abused him. "Isn't she a pretty muscle slut?" They would say. "Fuck bitch. Look at that pussy suck up all that cock sperm, hoping to get pregnant? Such a good girl taking men's cum." As soon as they were done with him, Coach said now was the best time to workout, using the cum as natural fuel. Joey, and his dad, believed him of course. Frank helped the boy put his stained thong back on and hit the gym immediately. He was not allowed to clean any of the semen from his body. "All the cum should be absorbed in your skin," Coach said, "you can rub it in boy." The coach had trained the boy well, feeding him his daily energy pills of Viagra, ecstasy and dopamine to keep him extremely horny. His cock would never stay inside the thong pouch and, knowing he was not allowed to touch it, his father would have to tuck the cock back into the pouch as good as he could. This would happen several times during his workout and, the more Joey was fondled, the harder his cock would become. Everyone knew that when Joey finished his workouts, his coach would allow him to pose in front of the men. His cock would always be throbbing at this point and constantly dripping precum onto the floor. He was also stained with the men's cum still dripping down his face and legs. His own cock had soaked the pouch and was dripping onto the floor. The coach would make him get on his hands and knees to lick the cum off the floor before finishing his posing. By now, the boy would be exhausted but extremely horny. He was so turned on by all the men watching him pose that he felt like he could just cum without touching himself. The sexual enhancing drugs only made him more desperate to cum. He knew the coach was training him to cum without touching his cock and, by now, he was very ready. He felt himself literally throbbing as his cock tried to escape the pouch. Then, as Joey hoped, the coach signaled him to stand and hold his double bicep pose. He was always in this pose when he was allowed to orgasm. He became very excited and already felt himself edging. Joey stood and the audience knew it was time to observe his orgasm. He focused on his cock as he flexed, thinking about how it is throbbing and dripping. The men were jerking off as they watched him waiting to see his cock squirt. Joey was on the edge of orgasm and humping his pelvis back and forth, into the air, with nothing touching his cock now outside his thong. Frank looked at the Coach, who nodded to him. He walked behind his son and slapped his ass. He held Joey with one arm as he pushed his fingers into the boy's muscle cunt. He immediately started fucking the boy with three fingers up his ass. "UGhhhhhhh FUCKKKKKKK" Joey grunted as he fucked the air, pumping his pelvis forward and back like he was actually fucking someone. His cock was on the edge of a huge cum but there was nothing there to touch it. Joey focused on the men watching him, his bouncing cock and the feelings in his ass. One man walked up to him and sprayed his cum directly on the g-string pouch. His cock gently touched Joey's cock and that was all it needed. Joey was cumming. "Ohhhhhh fuckkkkkk" Joey was squirting cum everywhere as he moved his hips while he had his orgasm. "Fuck, thank you Sir," Joey would moan as his cock sprayed its cum, keeping his double bicep pose as ordered. Coach was not pleased. He never actually gave the boy permission to cum and he made a huge slimy mess on the floor. "Next time, we tie you down so you can't move faggot." Coach said, "You made a huge mess so clean it up." Joey knelt down and started licking the floor, sucking up his own cum. "Im sorry for cumming Sir." He said as he licked the floor. His ass was sticking out and several men got behind him to feel the goods. Joey knew to ignore the men and let them feel his body. Fingers went into his ass. Joey licked the floor. Then he saw a man kneel behind him and felt a cock pushing into his hole. Joey showed no reaction because he didn't want more punishment. He ignored the men while he licked the floor. Someone stepped on his head, holding his face against the floor and the man behind him started to pummel his ass. "Squeeze that cunt hole so the man can put his cum inside you boy." Coach said. Joey tried to hold still and wait for the man to breed him. He suddenly felt the slimy seed spill inside him. The man pulled out his cock and a black man pushed his cock into him. Joey knew he should just take the pain and wait for the man to release his cum inside his hole. This happened several more times and it seemed that Joey was constantly being used. Every man either fucked him or sprayed his face with cum. The coach pulled Joey to his feet and asked if he learned his lesson. Joey didn't have a clue what he was talking but he knew he should agree. "Yes sir. Please help me understand my place Coach. I want you to be proud of me Sir. I will do anything you say Coach. If you teach me how to behave, I know I will be a champion bodybuilder and a successful model." "You are smarter than I thought faggot." Coach said, "You want to be a good boy, don/t you?" Joey nodded. "Your daddy here will help you too." Coach said, "but I need to do a few things first. Frank, go get the boy's cock cage and put it on him. There will be no more orgasms until your next competition faggot. Your daddy will schedule daily cum sessions with other bodybuilders to give you the required 12 loads of protein." "Frank, I want the boy on his back in his cage when we get home." Coach said, "I want the fuck machine ready at his hole. He should be gagged and tied down. Give him these pills to help him stay horny and calm." "Yes Sir." Frank led his son to the door. "I want him to be fucked non-stop in 15 minute intervals for an hour. After each interval, the dildo size will be increased by one inch, from 7 to 10 inches. When I get home later," Coach said, " I don't want to hear one sound except the noise of the fuck machine pumping his homo hole." "Understood Sir." Frank said, "the boy will be properly fucked until you get home." "I want you on top of him, in the cage, in 69 position, Homo." Frank stopped and looked back at the Coach. "I want your ass on his face so he can smell that dirty hole. I want you jerking off on his face and, by the time I get back home, I wanna see three loads on his face." "yes Sir," Frank said, "I will spray my cum all over my son's face while he is being fucked." "When I get home, you back your ass up against the cage and I will load your cunt too. The boy will watch his daddy getting fucked." Later that night, Joey's ass cunt was raw and Frank had fallen asleep on top of the boy after the coach sprayed his own seed on Frank's ass and the boys face. • To be continued --- READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. Other stories: Becoming the Executive Assistant My Uncles Farm Trained by my Step Dad The Coach's Assistant The Military Recruit Becoming the Team Coxswain My StepDad Knows Best (Gay and Bisexual) Trucker's Boy My stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas. I have only ONE more final chapter to write here and have already started another story. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I will always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. ` Please email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I will answer ALL emails. Thanks guys.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/policeman-tony.html

NY Policeman, Tony Policeman of New York, Tony Story written by; RC Barber Copyright 09/2002 This story contains man to man sexual relations with domination, bisexuality, anal penetration and incest. If any or all of these subjects offends you, or you are under the legal age required then stop now. But if you are not offended of male sexual love then you will like this one. I remember a special and pleasing time in NY City when I was on a weekend pass. I had just gotten off the train from Bainbridge and was heading to my favorite place, the Y.M.C.A. I came to an intersection where a NY Policeman was directing traffic. I watched him very carefully as I went from one corner to the other side of the street. He was a good-looking young rookie about 25. He must have been 6 foot 2 inches tall, weighed about 200 pounds and had a great body. He had dark trimmed black hair and dark sparkling eyes. He was the typical hunk cop you see in those movies. I was watching his moves as he motioned the traffic in each direction and moved his arms like an orchestra conductor, and moved on his feet like a dancer. I had to smile as he hopped from one leg to the other, blowing his traffic whistle, and motioning with hand and unbelievable facial expressions. I was so engrossed in this stud that I walked from one corner to another making a complete square walking to each of the 4 corners. I settled in a coffee shop on the last stop. I had no longer sat down at the counter when I felt someone set beside me. I looked next to me and there was that hunk policeman setting right there in his tailored handsome New York City Policeman blue uniform. He adjusted his jacket and took off his hat revealing his handsome head of black wavy hair. I guess I looked at him a bit too long because he looked at me and said. "Do you have a problem?" I looked up in surprise. "No, no " I stuttered. "I was just admiring your movements as you directed traffic". He just grinned as if he already knew. " I have been told that before. Hi, My name is Sergeant Tony Adonis." I held out my hand and though to myself, "you sure are an Adonis". He was a very handsome Italian Cop. We chatted briefly as he sipped his coffee and I had piece of pie and some milk. Tony said to me as he finished the coffee, put on his hat and was ready to go. "I am just rapping up this shift and have to make a call to headquarters to check in. Hang in there until I make this call." Tony instructed. He returned quickly and started to pay for his coffee and split. He turned to me and asks. "Hey, what are you doing tonight cause I have a couple of tickets to that "Cina-Rama" thing near by and you could go with me. Would you like that? He asks in his typical Italian New York slang. He was asking me out. Wow, I should be so lucky. Then Tony added. "I have to go to my place and change and take a quick shower before we split. What do you say you come on along with me to my place and we will go from there? I only live a few blocks from here. We will hop on the subway and be there in no time." I assured him that I was interested in seeing the movie with him. We proceeded to pay our bill but the restaurant cashier shook her head and wouldn't take any money from either of us because he was a cop and I was a sailor in uniform. They use to do that in those days. We split, hopped on the subway, and started to his place. I had ridden on the subways several times but this time a handsome cop was escorting me. The subway was too noisy to talk so we just sat and watched the people and the stations go by. We went by a few stops then he motioned for me to follow him as we exited the train. We went to his where he called for a pizza delivery and offered me a beer. He started to strip off his uniform so he could jump in the shower. I liked listening to his accent and his quick sense of humor. He liked to talk and tell me some interesting things that happened to him as he directed traffic. He explained this was only a temporary position and he was waiting for his new promotion. I was checking Tony out as he entered the room. I thought back to my `run in' with the Highway Patrolman on the Kansas Highway just about a year before I joined the Navy. This cop was sure different but just as sexy and equally as handsome. He had such a great personality. He jumped into the shower but before he left the room he said. "Make yourself at home and we'll have some pizza later but have another beer if you want. I'll only be a few minutes. Come to the door where we can talk." He left the bathroom door open and I could see his shadow as he got into the shower. He showered quickly and came out and stood by the door as he towel dried himself. He asks me to come to the bathroom so he could talk to me as he shaved. He was standing looking into the mirror as he shaved with nothing on but a big white towel. He had a hard solid body and on one leg he had a small tattoo of an eagle. His body was leaning towards the mirror as he shaved making his round butt sticking out into the room. He had a nice hairy chest and some on his shoulders and back. I stood in the doorway as he talked. As he moved around and his towel fell from his body. He made no effort to catch it. There he stood now against the white sink contrasted against his dark pubic hair. I started to look away but he was so nice to look at. He finished shaving and reached down to pick up his towel. As he bent over, his hard buttocks and hairy ass hole glared right into my face. His long uncircumcised cock and large hairy ball sack dangled beneath his groin. I was starting to get hard as I watched him move around naked. His naked touched mine as he moved past me now standing in the doorway. He headed down the hallway to his bedroom. I followed thinking he was about to dress. He opened his dresser drawers to pick out his shorts and socks and threw them on the bed. I tried not to stare at him and lowered my eyes when he looked over at me and said. "Do I embarrass you standing here in my birthday suit?" "No, I see lots of naked men in the Navy." I said. "He walked up to me, still naked, and grabbed me by my obvious hard cock. I jumped, but he gripped tightly onto me, still looking directly into my eyes. Then he grinned. I was very tense as he took my hand and placed it on his semi-hard cock. I was surprised but pleased. "I think you are turned on to me. You must be a cock-sucking sailor. Would you like to suck on this salami," He said as he flopped his cock at me. I was held on to his big uncut cock as it started to grow in my sweaty hand. He put his strong hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me down on the floor to my knees. With his other hand he directed his cock into my parting lips and mouth. His large uncircumcised cock started to grow as I placed my warm tongue into his long hanging foreskin. I searched for his piss slot and tasted his pre-cum now forming under the soft lacy skin. The head of his cock was starting to peek out as his cock hardened and the foreskin began to slide back from his manhood. I licked hungrily under his cock. I gripped his cock and headed for his large hairy balls still tasting his sweet muskie manly body. I released my mouth from his cock and nosed my way underneath his warm moist ball sac to inhale his hot manly scent. My tongue lapped at his big balls as he spread his legs apart encouraging my search. I found the another sensitive area underneath his balls where most fail to go. This area was covered with dark hair and formed a protected area around his ass hole. I wanted so much to rim his ass but I was in no position to reach it yet. As I crawled under his spreading legs, he sensed were I was heading. He spread his legs even further exposing the brown edges of his luscious ass hole. He jacked on his cock while I headed for his ass hole with my warm hungry tongue. I gripped each of his hairy buttocks and parted his cheeks as I lapped eagerly towards his hole. Finally my search was complete. I had my hot tongue on the edge of the rippled hole. I frantically stuck my tongue into his eager hole. I heard gasps as I licked and tongue fucked my hot cop's ass hole. I knew right away that this was a new experience for him to enjoy. I gave him deep and speedy thrust of my tongue as the excitement and pleasure continued. He squatted over me as I licked away at his hole but realized t his body was lowering himself over my face. I slid to the floor extending my body underneath him. He sat on my face with one easy movement never once losing his grip on his hard cock. He pulled my navy jumper up from my waist and unbuttoned my tailored white bell-bottoms. I managed to pull them down over my hips as I still lay on the floor. His warm rough hand opened my boxer shorts searching for my hard cock. My pre-cum was oozing from my cock as he started to jack on my cock while he jacked on his own. My tongue still remained in his warm sweet brown ass hole plunging deeper with each movement. I was so hot licking his ass and knew if he continued to jack on me, I would cum. His ass hole was tightening and I knew he would cum off any time. I wanted to pull out and place his big cock into my mouth to drink his load of cum. He sat up so I could move my eager tongue out of his treasured ass-licking hole. As I moved back to his big cock I could taste his salty juices from his cock along with the manly scent of his body sweat. His body sweat was now dripping down his hairy washboard stomach muscles and on to his bushy pubic hair and down his ball sacks. I held onto his moist set of balls once more as I immediately slurped down his long thick uncut cock. He gave out another long and deep gasps as I went down on him as far as I could. I relaxed my throat and took another deep breath, this time going all the way down on his cock. His dark public hairs where touching my nose. It was just too much for him. He grabbed the back of my head and he released his first warm gush of man sperm down my open throat, then another big gush, and another. He almost shouted out as he came saying to me. "Oh my sweet cocksucking sailor. Suck that hot Italian salami. Eat that cocks, baby, eat my cock. Oh my God. Oh yeah. Man Oh Man. That is soooo good, Oh yeah. I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Drink my cum. Drink it! Oh yeah, my ass licking, cocksucking sailor. Eat that Italian cock. Ohhhh yeaaaaaa..Ummmmm. Oh yeah...Ummmmmmm. " He continue to moan and talk to his sailor cocksucker. I had to come up for air so he released my head as I pulled back from his pulsating hard cock. Still more cum was spurting out of his penis as he gasps and let out a moan of manly pleasure. Once more I went all the way down on his cock causing him to shake in spasms while he shot his remaining orgasm into my willing and sucking mouth. I didn't want to miss a drop of his hot juices so continued to drink down his appreciated cumming cock. He once again placed his strong hands behind my head but this time he let me control they movements of my lovemaking. While he was still enjoying the last moments of his orgasm I reached down to jack off my hard cum filled cock. I held on to his cock as he closed his eyes to relax still enjoying my mouth. It didn't take long for me to shoot my load. I had become so excited over his manly cock that I shot with such force that it went right between his legs and onto the floor. I came load after load until it finally oozed out and into my own boxer shorts. I was suddenly aware I had cum on his foot. He was looking down at me as he said. " What the fuck do you think you are doing, shooting your sperm on me like that, cocksucker. Get you ass licking mouth down there and clean it up." He suddenly said in a commanding voice. I was a bit surprised but sometimes after a straight man has released his load, and has been satisfied, he changes his attitude. Some times they have even been violent and angry. I felt it was a guilt feeling. I immediately became more cautious with him but fell to his feet and started to wipe my cum off his feet with my hand. He once again said to me. "Not your hand, you fucker, your tongue. Get down there and lick up your cum in your mouth. Taste your own cum, you ass hole, and when you are finished, I have another job for you. Now get to licking, cocksucker." Tony instructed. I had become aware of these sudden urges of domination by some men. I had the feeling Tony just didn't want it to end yet. He needed more to prove he was the man and the master of his ass licking, cocksucking sailor. I didn't mind as long as I pleased this hunk of a cop. I continued to lick up and taste my own cum from Tony's foot. He now placed his foot on my bare leg then pushed me backward on the floor. "Take your sailor uniform off and throw it on that chair. I want to see this cocksucker naked, on the floor, and at my feet right now!" I immediately undressed and placed my uniform on the chair as he instructed. Just as I finished, Tony instructed me to come back to the floor position. I did as he demanded and lowered my head in respect for my master. I sensed his manly body standing before me and was aware of his cock only a few inches from my face. I wanted to reach out again and lick it as it oozed more of his pre-cum from his long pink foreskin. Tony was standing over me and started to talk to me in a demanding rough voice. "So let me understand what we have here. You are a cock sucking, ass licking, cumslut, and man whore. Right? He paused as he waited for me to answer. Right bitch? You enjoyed eating my shit hole and sticking you cocksucking tongue up my butt? He said looking down at me. "Yes sir! I said. "I am a cocksucking, ass licking man whore." "That's right. Now I have a treat for you. In about 5 minutes, my brother is going to come by here and you are going to suck his cock like you did mine. Do you understand? Do you?" Tony spoke out again. "Yes Sir!" I said as I wonder how this all came about. The front door opened and in came the pizza delivery boy. He came into the bedroom after setting the pizza down in the living room. "Hey big bro. What are you up to tonight? He said as he entered the bedroom where I sat naked on the floor. "What the fuck?" He said as he saw me kneeling on the floor while Tony was walking around the room naked. Tony wanted to humiliate me in front of this young pizza man and I had to admit I was not only surprised but humiliated being in this position. Tony still looks so hot as he paced around the room looking first at me, then the Pizza Boy. "Michael. What I have here is a cocksucking, ass-licking punk. He likes to eat ass and suck the fucking cum out of dicks. What the hell do you think we should do with him? Tony said to the boy. I looked shyly at the pizza boy dressed in his white-stripped pizza uniform and a ball cap to match. He looked to be younger than I am. He had dark eyes and a nice body. He was about 5 foot 10 inches and a cute face. I was beginning to think he was Tony's younger brother because they did have a brotherly look. He was looking me over very seriously while he rubbed his nuts and then made a comment. "Well Tony, I guess we should make him lick our ass and suck our cocks. I just had some pussy about 2 hours ago but could use some good head to clean off the pussy juice. I didn't have time to shower. I had to leave quick before her old man came home." He said as he started to remove his shoes. Tony laughed at Michael's comments and walked over closer to me. "You hear that, cocksucker? You get to lick the pussy juice off my little brother's cock. You don't know how luck you are, ass hole. He is a real cockstud and rarely lets a cocksucker swing on his cock. Get your mouth ready for a sweet treat. He is hung almost as large as I am. While we are waiting for Mike to strip, I need my ass loved again. Do you think you can manage that ass licker? " Tony said to me as he bent over, spreading his hot hair ass right into my face. I was looking forward to licking his ass hole once again. Tony must have like the first round of tongue fucking I gave him. I was happy to lick his ass once more. It was even more exciting knowing that his younger brother was now watching me eat his big brothers ass. I leaned my face back into his warm and sweaty ass and started my tongue licking action. Michael continued to undress himself as he watched our actions. I could see Mike's body out of the corner of my eyes as I had my tongue in Tony's ass. He was built very well with a trim swimmer type body. He did not have the hairy body his brother Tony did, but he was still very hot. Mike finished his undressing except for the white socks still remaining on his feet. He walked over to me and closely watched me tongue fuck Tony. I took a deep breath and turned to Mike. His big cock was hanging down his leg. He did have a big cock but did not have the heavy foreskin that his brother possessed. He placed his hand behind my head and directed me to his cock. I gently took his semi-hard uncut cock taking a good look at what I was about to pleasure. Placing my tongue at the tip of his piss slot, I took a whiff of the dried cum along with a hint of piss and musky body sweat. A small pubic hair remained on the tip of his cock. I gently pulled it from his lose fore- skin and slowly placed my tongue to his hardening cock. I scented the dried cum from his used cock. He had the sent of pussy juice and his own delicious dried cum. I severed the flavor and smelled of his musky man hood. The head of his piss slit was forming a pearl of pre-cum and was oozing from his big cock. I moved my mouth over his cock head as he sighed with pleasure. It was such a turn on cleaning this young studs cock soon after he studded his girlfriend. I think it turned him on too, knowing a cocksucking sailor was licking and cleaning his precious cock and sharing his last fuck. Mike was a hot young man that could come 3 or 4 times each day. He probably had several girls on his Pizza deliver route that he fucked every week. Mike was a good-looking stud with a nicely shaped and tasty long uncut cock and a nice set of low hanging ball sacks. I was aware that Tony had sat on the nearby bed to watch me suck on his brother's big cock. He was jacking off his own cock as he watched me worship and make love to Mike's cock. I had pretty well cleaned off all the dried cum and could now start to taste his fresh pre-cum slowly oozing from his piss slot. I left the cocksucking and moved my face towards Mike's musky balls. His body sweat was much stronger than Tony's because he hadn't showered lately. His body musk was not sour but a manly salty smell. Mike turned to Tony as he was still watching us from the bed and said. "Man, this cocksucker is one of the best. You really know how to pick them Tony. Move over Tony, I want this punk to lick out my sweaty ass hole. I need a good tongue lapping." Tony moved to the bed and sat dog fashion with his head on the pillow and his sweet young trim ass up in the air. "Get your fucking ass licking face over then and do your job." Tony instructed me as I gladly moved to the bed positioning my body behind Mike. I pulled Mike's butt cheeks apart and slowly moved my tongue up and down his ass crack. Mike had a hot musky boyish body scent that really turned me on. I took a deep whiff each time I moved up and down his ass crack. I gradually licked all the sweat from his ass while searching for his pink ass hole. I quickly darted my tongue around his hole then buried my face into his ass. I darted my long tongue in and out of his hole while Mike purred and moaned. He was in ecstasy with pleasure. Tony was getting so hot watching me pleasure his young brother's ass hole. He put his hands to my mouth as my tongue was licking Mike's ass hole. I wet Tony's finger before he sought out Mike's hole. He slowly eased his wet finger into him. Mike squirmed as he felt a new intruder but did not pull away. He seemed to enjoy the finger action and the finger fucking that his brother was doing to him. It was hot and so was Tony. He then moved behind Mike and began to rub his wet cock over Mike's buttock and ass hole. I moved to the side and watched to see if Tony was going to penetrate his young brother's hot looking ass. Mike did not move away from the finger fucking but was now aware that his big brother Tony was going to use his ass. He was going to be fucked by his large cock. He made an effort to move away but Tony held onto his buttocks and moved his body even closer to penetrate his shaft into Mike. Tony motioned for me to suck on Mike. I went under Mike as he still remained in the dog fashion position on the bed. I placed my mouth over Mike's hard and dripping cock. Tony was still maneuvering behind Mike and had found the opening of his ass. He placed the head of his cock into Mike. I sensed Mike's tension and fear of the entry of his brother's big cock. Then Tony entered Mike's ass as Mike let out a tense and painful moan but Tony still continued moving in Mike. Tony seemed to have no mercy for his young brother and the lust and desire to please his own cock preceded him. Tony shoved his 9 inch cock all the way in. Mike let out another sigh and gasps. My mouth was suddenly filled with the warm hot juices of Mike's cock. His prostate had been hit and he could no longer hold back an unexpected pleasurable orgasm. I gulped down his big cock and drank this young mans load of sperm. Tony remained in one position and had no intentions of moving out of this tight young ass. After Mike had shot his load, Tony started to move his cock in and out of his brother's tight ass hole in a long and deep fucking action. Mike pleaded with his brother but it was too late. "Oh Tony. Take that big cock out of my ass. You are killing me. You know it's been a long time since we did this. I am not accustomed to your cock anymore. Stop fucking me, Tony." Mike continued "Shut up you sissy. Take your brother's cock like a man. You have needed this man fuck for quite some time now. Now, shut up an enjoy it. You are my pussy ass boy once again. Oh, yeah. That feels good. Now back into that cock like you did where we were young studs." Tony remarked as he continued to pleasure his cock in Mikes hurting ass. Tony and Mike were renewing their boy hood memories. Tony was 5 years older than Mike and when they were younger they fucked around with each other. Tony started to fuck his brother when Mike was 12 and Tony was 17. It became a regular thing for sometime until Tony moved in with a girl. Later Tony took a job at the Police academy to become a policeman. Tony came home one day to find Mike fucking his girl. Instead of Tony becoming upset he told Mike he could use her anytime he wanted. One day his girl came home to find Tony fucking his brother Mike and thought it was too weird for her, so she left Tony. Mike and Tony didn't get the chance to fuck again for several years until tonight. Now Tony was enjoying the sweet and sexy ass of his brother once again, and it was good. Mike had now become adjusted to the onslaught fucking of his big brother and was starting to enjoy it once again. Tony pulled Mike into his arms as they continued to enjoy each other. I sat first one side, then the other watching and enjoying these two masculine Italian brother hunks, enjoy their man to man sex. I wanted to watch Tony's cock go into Mike so I scooted my body behind Tony and placed my head between Tony's legs. He moved so I could position my head directly under his balls where I could see his cock penetrating Mike's ass hole. It was a sight to behold. Tony had a very large uncut cock and when he would pull out of Mike' ass, the skin would pull back giving Mike more cock, and more pleasure. The pre-cum juices and the body fluids from both men were starting to ooze out of Mike' ass and was now dripping down his balls and onto my forehead. I moved up closer to Tony's balls to taste some of their body sweat and body juices with my tongue. I was so engrossed with the movements of this hot policeman's cock going into his younger brother's and Pizza deliver boy's ass. We were all getting hot and ready to cum again. I pulled out from my excellent position under the fucking brothers and went back to Mike's cock. I knew Tony was going to pump his load and this would probably set off Mike again. I wanted to take another load from him. I had only positioned my mouth around Mike's cock once again when he started to cum. He had been to enjoy the fucking he was given and was talking to Tony. "Fuck my ass, Tony. Fuck me hard, harder. I forgot how great your cock felt in my ass. Oh. Hold me tight. Fuck me, Fuck me! Give me your load. Give me that big Italian Salami. Oh, yes. I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum. Oh God. Fuck me Tony." Tony was fucking Mike hard like a man in heat. A hot man fucking his little brother. It felt so good to have Mike's body next to him again and his cock back in that tight ass. He forgot how good this felt with this hot ass hole wrapped around his cock once again. It was good, very good. Tony thought to himself. He could feel Mike's ass getting even tighter and he knew he was about to cum again. "Get you mouth over my brother' cock, cocksucker." Tony instructed me. "Suck off that big cock of his again. I' m going to shoot real soon. Oh man this is such a good fuck. Yeas, little bro., take my cock up that sweet ass again. I' m going to make a cum deposit in your punk fucking ass. You are my man whore once again. You are my pussy ass boy. Oh, Yeah. What a fuck, bro. You are some fuck. " Tony continue to pump away unmercifully at his brother's ass as I sucked his cock. Mike did not have any resistance to his brother's fucking his ass or me sucking his cock. He just let his body be used. He let out a moan and shot another big load into my mouth as the sensation of his orgasm once again made his body tremble with indescribable feelings. I took most of his load down my throat but saved a nice full mouth full to share with an unexacting brother. After Mike almost passed out from ecstasy, I left his sweet cock and kneeled next to Tony as he continued his fucking. With my mouth over his hard nipples I roughly chewed one then the other. My one hand slid down Tony's sweaty body to his ass, and with the other hand I caressed his hairy chest. He suddenly pulled me close to his mouth and started kissing me. I softly opened my lips and let Mike's cum slowly seep into Tony's mouth. He was surprised but soon became aware of the taste of cum. He madly penetrated my mouth with his hot long tongue and searched madly for the Mike's remaining cum. The animal seemed to be released in him and his hot strong body trembled with spasms while he started to cum. He violently sucked on my lips and tongue still searching the caverns of my mouth for remaining cum. He yelled into my mouth as he shot his manly cock into his brother's willing tight ass. I thought he was going to choke me as his strong muscular arm pulled on my neck as he continued to passionately kiss me. The sweat beads that had formed on his forehead and face rolled down his face into dripping streams of cooling relief. Tony gasps again and again as he relaxed his emotions realizing his lips still remained on mine. He was suddenly aware he was kissing and making passionate love to his cocksucking, ass licking, cum slut sailor. Then he opened his dark Italian brown eyes and once gave me a warm gently loving kiss. He smiled and shook his sweat soaked head of hair like a wet animal just out of water. He gave a hug to Mike and kissed him lovingly on the back of his neck. He pulled me forward onto Mike as we all 3 collapsed on the bed. I think we all passed out for a minute or so still wrapped in each other's bodies. I was aware of movement from Tony as he slowly moved away from Mike sliding his semi hard cock from his ass. Mike flinched as the cock pulled from his sensitive anus. Tony lay back again with his head on the pillow catching his breath and regaining his strength. Mike was still lying on his stomach as Tony lovingly rubbed his hands across Mike's ass then he said to him. "Now that is what I call brotherly love. Are you all right Mike? I gave you a good work out but I will say you took it like a man. I am proud of you dude." Tony said as he pulled himself off the bed. His cock was still semi hard as he walked into the other room. He called back to us. "Is anyone ready for a cold beer and Pizza?" I slowly got up from the bed and was trying to decide if I should put on my boxers but I though I would wait and take my shower first. I joined Tony in the other room as he was chewing on the cold Pizza. He looked so sexy setting on the edge of the couch with his big cock and balls hanging over the front of the cushion. I sat down besides him and reached for the Pizza. When I pulled back with the Pizza I felt an urge coming on. I saw a small stream of clear cum dripping from his cock. I put my Pizza underneath his hanging cock and milked down his love juices causing a small amount to land on my Pizza. He looked at me and smiled as I took a bite of the Pizza now covered with a small amount of his sperm. Then he softly laughed and hit my leg. "You are something else." Tony said to me. I guess you know we will not make it to the movies tonight as we had planned. End of NY Policeman, Tony. If you like this story let me know. EyeMrich1@hotmail.com Sir Richard

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/codys-conquest/codys-conquest-2

Date: Fri, 3 Aug 2001 12:43:41 EDT From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Cody's Conquest - Part 2 Cody's Conquest Part II By Percxyz@aol.com Cody arrived about ten minutes later, pulling into the driveway in his Mustang with the top down. Jeremy peeked through the front drapes at him as he got out of the car, then retreated to the family room. As was their practice, Cody let himself into the house and called out a greeting. Jeremy answered and soon Cody was standing in the room in front of him. Jeremy drank in the sight of his buddy. Cody wore only a pair of cut off blue jean shorts and tennis shoes. He had been getting sun in his car on the drive over. His blond hair was windblown, but he still looked sexy as hell to Jeremy. Cody stood looking at Jeremy, watching his friend's eyes as they traveled over his body. He could tell Jeremy was hot for him again. He sat on the couch on the wall opposite Jeremy and spread his legs. Jeremy's eyes went straight to his crotch. Cody grinned. "So, Jeremy, how did you like sucking my cock?" Jeremy's head jerked up, a look of panic on his face. He was unsure of what to say, but Cody continued. "I gotta tell you, it sure felt good, cocksucker. It felt damn fine." He looked at Jeremy, seeing him relax a bit. "I don't even mind that you swallowed my jizz anymore. In fact, it kind of makes me hot thinking that you've digested my babymakers. My sperm is a part of you now, Jer." Cody kept his eyes locked on Jeremy's, then moved his hand from the couch letting it slide up along his rippled abs to his chest. He watched Jeremy's eyes follow it. He slid it down to his crotch and heard Jeremy inhale deeply as he grabbed his cock, outlining it through the denim. "I figure you probably want more." Cody watched Jeremy as a slew of emotions ran across his face. Jeremy finally met his eyes. "I don't know, Cody. You sounded pretty pissed off the other day." "Yeah, I might have," Cody agreed easily, shrugging his shoulders. Jeremy watched the play of muscles and tendons in Cody's neck and chest as he moved. "But I am over that. Hell, I realized that you had to have been licking up all the lube I was dripping while you were sucking my cock. I always can milk out a gallon. So you swallowing my load was, I guess, natural. For you." He looked up to gauge Jeremy's reaction. It seemed his friend had calmed down even more. That was good. Cody was horny. "Well...I just didn't know what else to do, Cody." Jeremy said. "I mean, you were in all the way and I didn't know what else to do." Cody could hear the tension increasing in Jeremy's voice. "Like I said, no problem." He squeezed his crotch again and was pleased to see Jeremy watching his hand closely. "How would ya like to do it again?" Cody saw the flash of desire that crossed Jeremy's face before he tried to play it cool. Jeremy didn't look up for a second, then said, "Well, if you really want me to, I guess I can." "Don't give me that crap, cocksucker. You've been staring at me like a bitch in heat since I walked in the room. You want my cock! We both know it. So get over here, now, get on your knees and I will let you suck on it for awhile." Cody watched Jeremy's face and actually thought he would balk, but the saw acceptance and submission win out. Jeremy slid off his couch onto his knees. Jeremy had listened to Cody speak, but didn't really believe what he was hearing. The sight of the stud sitting across from him almost naked had made his cock rock hard. There was no denying that Cody turned him on, but he was still wary. When Cody asked him if he wanted to suck his cock again, Jeremy had forced himself not to agree immediately. But trying to be indifferent hadn't worked. Cody had called him out and told him the truth he already knew: he wanted Cody's cock any way he could get it. When Cody had finally issued an order, the old habit of obeyance combined with his raging lust pulled him off the couch. He hadn't planned to end up on his knees, but when he looked at the stud on the couch, he could tell Cody liked what he was seeing. Jeremy crawled across the floor until he was between Cody's spread legs. Cody watched him come on his knees. He pulled at the fly of his shorts, freeing his cock as Jeremy approached. He saw Jeremy's eyes lock on it and smiled. Seconds later he let out a satisfied moan as Jeremy's soft lips engulfed the head of his dick. "Fuck yeaaaahhhh! That's it cocksucker. Eat my meat! It's been almost two days now and I am ready to cum." Cody put a hand on the back of Jeremy's head and began to push down. He watched as more and more of his cock disappeared into Jeremy's mouth. He felt Jeremy's lips sliding down his shaft and threw his head back in pleasure. Cody relaxed his arm and felt Jeremy's head rising. When the lips reached the flare of his cockhead, he pushed back down, moaning with pleasure. Jeremy felt the hand on his head and didn't resist Cody's pressure. When he felt the pressure stop, he pulled up Cody's cock and worked the head with his tongue for a second before Cody forced him back down. Jeremy wanted to look up at Cody the way he had done the other night and see his face as he was sucked, but the hand on his head prevented it. Jeremy concentrated on making it feel good for the stud in his mouth. Jeremy let his hands wander over Cody's legs. The short hair growing on his buddy's shins didn't feel anything like any chick's legs, but was still a major turn on for him. Jeremy moved one hand to his crotch, letting his head ride up and down under Cody's control. Suddenly Cody moved his leg from the side of Jeremy and it pressed up between Jeremy's legs. A bolt of electricity shot through Jeremy's body and he twisted himself a bit until he was straddling Cody's leg. He pressed his hard cock against Cody's shin, only the cotton of his shorts separating their skin. Jeremy could feel Cody's tennis shoe pushing up against his balls as he moved down a little, then he rubbed his crotch up against Cody's shin. He moaned around the cock invading his mouth. Cody was now looking down, watching his buddy begin to hump his leg. "That's right, Jer. Hump my leg like a dog while you eat my meat. Fuck yeah, you look pretty hot doing that!" Cody pushed his leg forward, moving it against the hard cock he could feel between Jeremy's legs. "Keep that up, boy, and I'm gonna fill your hot little pussy mouth! Oh fuck yeah!" The additional stimulation of the sight of his friend with his face stuffed and the movement against his leg was too much. With a loud yell, Cody began to cum. He forced Jeremy's head down his cock and thrust his hips upward. Cody grunted with each spurt of cum he shot into Jeremy's mouth. Jeremy was moving faster against his leg as his mouth filled and as Cody watched, Jeremy suddenly went stiff and moaned around his cock. Cody saws Jeremy swallowing, Jeremy's body twitching and felt his friend pressed tightly against his leg. He had never seen another guy cum before, but he knew that was what Jeremy was doing. He was shooting a load in his shorts while drinking Cody's seed. He kept Jeremy's head pressed tightly to his crotch and listened to the guy whimper as he blew his jizz in his jockeys. Finally, Jeremy had finished and Cody allowed Jeremy's head to pull upward, off his cock. Jeremy was panting hard. It had been the best orgasm of Jeremy's life. Even better than when he had fucked his girlfriend. Having Cody's cock in his mouth had been the ultimate, and swallowing Cody while he shot his own wad was better than anything he had imagined. Still Jeremy was worried a little. Would Cody get all disgusted and leave? He let Cody's cock, shining with his spit, slide out of his mouth and noticed it was still rock hard. He raised his eyes and his gaze met Cody's. There was a smirk on Cody's lips, but no disgust. "I can see how much you like drinking my sperm, cocksucker. You fucking shot your load in your shorts when I came in your mouth. Didn't you?" "Yeah, I just was so turned on and the feel of your leg against my cock was too much," Jeremy said. There was no denying it. Cody used his leg to push Jeremy away. Jeremy fell backwards, catching himself with his hands behind him. His crotch was now fully exposed and the large wet spot was obvious. He heard Cody laugh. "Fucking humped my leg like a dog. And sucked the cum right outta my balls at the same time! You are one helluva faggot, boy." Cody looked at him for a minute. "Stand up and strip off those clothes. I wanna see what my cocksucker looks like." Jeremy was embarrassed and felt his face flush. He had never had a guy, or anyone for that matter, order him to strip. He got to his feet and pulled off his t-shirt exposing his chest. Cody watched in silence. Jeremy was put together well. His chest had nice bulging pecs and Jeremy had tight abs. Jeremy dropped the shirt on the floor and unbuttoned his wet shorts. He shucked them and his jockeys off in one move, leaving him standing in front of Cody in just his socks. Jeremy's cock, a nice six and a half inch piece, stood at attention. Cody took his time, letting his eyes wander down his friend's body from Jeremy's face to his socks. It was apparent that Jeremy was turned on by all of this. His cock was throbbing in front of him, leaking precum. The head of it glistened. "You're leaking lube, boy. Why don't you wipe that up with your finger?" He said it as a question, but Cody used the tone of command that had always worked with his buddy. Jeremy looked at him for a second before using his right hand to wipe his own precum off his cockhead. Jeremy felt on fire. His cock, even though he had just cum, was still like steel. It was so hard it almost hurt. Instead of remaining embarrassed by stripping for Cody, he had actually gotten even hotter, if that was possible. Seeing his buddy sitting on the couch in front of him as he stood naked except for his socks made his cock pulse. Then Cody told him to wipe up his lube. He had done it, feeling a thrill at touching his cock while Cody watched. With a finger coated in precum, he looked again at Cody's handsome face. "Well, lick it up, boy!" Jeremy didn't even hesitate. He raised his hand to his mouth and licked his lube off his finger. It tasted a little salty and wasn't bad, but didn't compare in any way with the incredible taste of what Cody had just pumped into his mouth. He realized that he desperately wanted to suck his buddy's cock again. He screwed up his courage. "Can - can I, um, suck you again, Cody? I mean, that is, if you want me to?" He watched as a big grin spread across Cody's face. "You wanna make me cum again, boy?" "Yes, please." Jeremy knew he sounded like he was pleading, but didn't care. Cody sat there in front of him, his cock still exposed and hard and Jeremy would do whatever it took to get it again. "Please let me make you cum." Cody liked what he heard. His big macho friend, all man and muscle, was standing in front of him begging for his cock. And this after having just sucked a load out of Cody. Cody decided he would give Jeremy what he wanted. Then he had a thought. There were a lot of other ways Jeremy could make him cum. He stood up and ordered Jeremy to strip him. Jeremy squatted low, putting his face at crotch level to pull down Cody's shorts, leaning in close to inhale his buddy's spicy scent. The boxers Cody as wearing came down with the shorts and Cody raised one foot at a time so that Jeremy could take them off him. Then he raised them again for Jeremy to remove his shoes. Seeing Jeremy down there gave Cody an idea. How for could he push things? He decided to give Jeremy a quick test. "Since you are already down there, cocksucker, you should kiss my feet. If you want me to cum in you again, that is." That was all the incentive Jeremy needed. He bent down and pressed his lips first to Cody's right foot, then to his left. When he was finished, he sat back on his heels and looked up at Cody's grinning face. "Good job, dicklicker. I think we should get more comfortable. Lead me to your room." Jeremy scrambled to his feet and led Cody up the stairs to his bedroom. He hoped Cody would lay on his bed and let him suck his cock. Cody had some other interesting things in mind. ************** Author's Note: Thanks to all who wrote asking for the story to continue. If you hadn't it wouldn't. Hope you enjoyed this installment. If you want more, let me know.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-10

Date: Fri, 28 Dec 2001 20:26:58 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: little brothers sex slave, part 10 When we got back to Brian's, we all walked inside. I carried the bags from the store. We all went into the living room. "Let's see what we got." Said Matt. He started to look through the stuff. "Strip, fag!" said Brian. I stood up and started to strip out of my clothes. He just looked on and smiled. Matt was busy looking over the stuff I had bought. He was thumbing thought the gay mags. Pretty soon, I was naked in front of them. I felt so humiliated by standing there, getting hard, as they paid no attention to me. I couldn't explain my feelings. Matt put down his book. "Get me those cock rings." He commanded. I handed him the bag with the rings. He selected one. "Put it on." He ordered. I did as he instructed. It was tight, but not too bad. He smirked. "Looks good fag" he said. "Get over here, in between us." He ordered. I moved to the couch and sat between them. "Hey fag, look at these dudes faggin out....cool huh?" Matt said. "Yeah, I guess...." I replied. "Just like you and Alan, huh?" he asked. "Yeah.." I replied. "Not as good as my cock though, right?" he asked mockingly. "No Matt, your cock is the best..." I answered. I figured I might as well get on his good side. We looked at several more pages. He seemed to be enjoying watching the pics and seeing the guys fuck with each other. "Man, I fucking love seeing you fags sucking each others' cocks. It is so fucking hot watching dudes sucking each other. Right Billy?" he asked. He didn't call me Billy much anymore; it was usually 'fag'. "Yeah Matt, it is hot." I replied. "Hey wanna see one of the videos you bought?" he asked. "Ya, OK" I replied. Like I had a choice of anything. Brian selected the one with the cum shots in it. He popped it in the VCR and started it up. About 10 minutes into the video, I could tell that both of em were getting pretty horned up. I, of course, was really boned with the cock ring and all. I figured it would only be a few minutes, before I was sucking them off again. "OK fag, that's it.." said Matt. He got up and stopped the video. Brian produced another Viagra, and made me take it. Oh no, I thought, not more viagra. My cock was almost always hard now. He slapped me a couple of times, to make me take it. Matt smiled and then announced. "Oh, by the way, we're letting Joe take you on some of his pizza runs tonight. So were going to have Karen come over and, you know, fuck the cunt!!" he laughed. "What am I going to do with Joe?" I asked. Matt came over to me, slapped my face a few times and said: "Whatever he wants you to do fuck face! And if I get one report of you not doing what youre instructed to do....." he held up a fist. "What's the matter fag??" asked Brian. "I thought you liked Joe's cock man" "Well, we can't you here while we're partying with Karen, so I guess it works out, huh?? And you better take care of him too!!" yelled Matt. "Yeah, I think he's got several more loads of cum for ya" Laughed Brian. "You got the fags clothes ready?" asked Matt. "Yeah, right here..." said Brian as he produced some tight ripped jeans, and a tight mess type top. He threw them on the bed. Then he produced some work boots and threw those at me too. "Get dressed." He ordered. I got into the clothes, but my hard cock was so evident thru the clothes. They just watched me struggle and smirked. No matter how I moved my cock, it was still very evident. And of course they didn't allow me to wear any underwear, so it didn't hide much. Finally, I was finished, and then Brian went to his drawers and produced a spiked dog collar. "Put this on!" he ordered. "Please don't make me wear that..." I pleaded. "Shut up and put it on!" Brian ordered. Oh please Brian, have a heart, I can't wear that..." I pleaded with him. "Why not?" he demanded to know. "God, its so obvious...." I said. "Like no one knows you're a fag?" he laughed. He grabbed the collar and attached it to my neck. "Yeah, you look real good now fag!" he announced. I just hung my head and wanted to cry. They made me sit in the living room waiting for Joe to pick me up. I could hear water running in the bathroom, so I figured they were getting ready for Karen. The doorbell rang; I could see that Joe's car was outside. I opened the door. He looked at me and laughed. "Fuck dude...." He said. "You look way hot man. Some of my customers are gonna love you man!" he laughed. "This is going to be so fucking outstanding!" he said as we got into the car. We took off for the pizza place. Meanwhile, Matt and Brian were getting cleaned up and ready for Karen. Each one had taken a very small amount of viagra. They were laughing and joking about fucking her till she passed out. I started to work with Joe. He made me stay in the car while we were at the pizza place. But some of the customers, I actually had to deliver to. I was so embarrassed to be delivering pizza looking like this, but I couldn't do anything about it. Let me just tell you how this night went. I won't go into too much detail, but this is what happened. About the third customer, we both went to the door. It was an older guy, maybe about 40 or so. He apparently knows Joe. He could have shit when he saw me. He looked me up and down. I was embarrassed. His name was Ted. This is how this conversation went with Joe and Ted. "Who's this?" asked Ted. "My helper for the night....what do ya think of him?" said Joe. "He looks hot man...." Said Ted. "Ya, that's the idea." Said Joe. "What's that mean?" asked Ted. "Well, you know how you're always trying to feel me up?" said Joe. "Yeah.." replied Ted. "Well, for a small fee, I might be able to leave Billy here for about 1/2 hour or so..." said Joe. "How much?" asked Ted? "I dunno, maybe $40.00...." replied Joe. "I can do anything I want with him?" asked Ted. "Yep.." said Joe. He reached into his pocket and took out 40 bucks and handed it to Joe. "See you in half and hour" he said. Joe smiled and said. OK. Ted just leered at me...."Get up in the bed room..." he ordered. He marched me up and then closed the curtains. He came over to me, and started to feel me up. He reached over to my cock and was stroking it. He ordered me out of my clothes. Soon I was naked in front of him. "What the fuck....shaved smooth, and a cock ring. What are you boy?" he asked. I hung my head in shame. "I'm a cocksucker." I admitted. He undressed himself and stroked himself to hardness. "Good, get over here and suck this...." He ordered. He fucked my face for a long time, and had cum twice when Joe came back for me. I had just time to put my short cut off jeans back on. "Come on, we're late..." he yelled at me. "How'd you make out?" he asked as we drove away. "OK, I guess, I sucked him off twice." I replied. "Good, he's always trying to get into my pants....I figured I could make a few bucks off of you.." he smiled. We drove for a couple of miles, and then pulled into a fairly nice looking place. We both got out and walked to the door. A young guy of maybe 15 answered. "Hey Joe..." he said. "Hi Mike..." said Joe. "Who's this dude?" mike asked. "Matt's older brother..." said Joe. "Looks like a fag." Said Mike. "He is....wanna buy him for a while?" asked Joe smiling. "What the fuck, you kidding or what?" asked Mike. "Nope, $40.00 gets him for 1/2 hour...." Replied Joe. "What's he do?" asked Mike. "Sucks like a Hoover dude, sucks like a Hoover...." Said Joe smiling. I hung my head in shame. Fuck having to suck off a 15-year-old dude, even if he was hot. "You're kidding right?" asked Mike. "Nope, satisfaction guaranteed." Said Joe. "Well, fuck man, sure." He reached into his pocket and pulled out 40.00 and handed it to Joe. "I'll be back in half and hour. Have him ready..." said Joe as he left. I stood there looking dumb in front of this hot 15-year-old stud muffin. "Hey Scott....Guess what?" he shouted as he pulled me into the house. We went into the living room and there was Scott, Mikes bud. He was a stud too. Mike pushed me into the room. "This is Matt's older bro. Joe says he a cocksucker.... I just bought him for half an hour." Announced Mike. "No way..." said Scott. "Yes way dude...." Replied Mike. Scott eyed me up and down. ""Sure looks like a cocksucker, don't he?" said Scott. "Strip them clothes off dude." Commanded Mike. I started to undress again. When I was completely nude, they both gawked at me. "Fuck man, he's shaved!!" said Scott. "And look at that cock ring..." chimed in Mike. "Look at that fucking bone man, you gotta know he's hot for us man..." said Mike. "You suck cock man?" asked Scott rubbing his jeans. I could see he was getting horned. "Yes." I replied meekly. "Well, get over here and suck me then." He commanded. I walked over to him, and knelt in front of him. He unzipped and undid his jeans and pulled out his 6" boy cock. It was getting hard already. I opened my mouth and he pushed it in. He moaned as he did. "Fuckin Awesome" commented Mike. He pulled up next to his bud, and whipped his dick out too. Soon there was another hard boy cock rubbing my face. They stood there, side by side, making me take turns on their cocks. Naturally, I was boned like mad during this. For the next half hour, they made me take 3 loads of hot teen juice each. The last shot that Mike had, he pulled out and jizzed my face and hair. God, I was so humiliated. Being used by two hot teen boys. Fuck, I was turning into a whore boy. Suddenly the bell rang, and it was Joe. Mike let Joe in and asked if I was going to be working with him all the time. "Not sure dude." Said Joe. He motioned for me to get ready. I quickly got my tight shorts back on. As we were walking to the car, Joe told me to wipe the jizz off my face and hair. I did it, wiping it on my shirt. We went to the next house. A nice mid aged lady answered the door. "Oh..." she said as she saw the two of us. "Who's your friend Joe?" she asked, as she looked me over, with a funny look on her face. "He's just a little stud that I'm breaking into the business..." smiled Joe. "Really?" she asked suggestively as she sipped some wine. Joe moved to the woman, wrapped his hands around her, and whispered in her ear. He started to rub her breasts. "Oh fuck," I thought, now what. The woman kissed Joe hard on the lips and reached for his purse. She handed him money. "See you in half and hour." She said as he smiled and walked out. "Up stairs" she ordered me. I walked upstairs as she directed me. "Strip" she said. I removed my clothes. "AAWWW fuck...." She cooed. She rubbed her hands all over my shaved body and crotch. Naturally, I was still major boned from the viagra and stuff. She pushed me back on the bed, and started to undress. Well, the next 35 minutes, I think she came about 10 times. She fucked and fucked and fucked. Good thing I had that Viagra. I didn't cum once from the cockring, but boy was she a cock hound! Finally Joe came back and collected me. "Hurry, we got one more delivery for tonight." He said. I jumped in the car, and we sped off. We ended up in a kinda dumpy part of town, and pulled into a driveway with a house in back of another one. Joe got out and told me to follow. He went to the small house and knocked. A black teen answered. "Bout time u got here with the pizza, where the fuck ya been?" he demanded. "Had to collect my cocksucker." Said Joe. "Say what??" demanded the black guy. "Cocksucker, he sucks cocks, interested?" asked Joe. "Sure looks like a sucker, how much he cost?" asked the dude. "$50.00 for half and hour." Said Joe. He looked me up and down. He handed Joe $50.00. "Come back in a hour." He told Joe. Joe smiled, pocketed the cash and took off. "Get in here sucker!" ordered the big black teen. I cringed but in I went. Well needless to say, I had more black cock that time, then I ever had. He feed me almost 4 loads of spunk. He also had his little brother fuck my face too. Altogether, I ate 7 loads there. When Joe got back, I was almost beat. My mouth was sore, and I was tired. As we were driving back to Brian's, Joe had me suck him off while he drove. He shot his load just as we were getting to Brian's house. We got out and walked to the house. We went in. "Hey... " shouted Joe. "Yeah, in here.." called out Brian. We went into the den, and there was my bro, pumping the shit out of Karen. Brian was standing there naked with a huge hard on. "How'd ya make out dude?" he asked. "Good, grossed about $200.00. Here your half" he said as he laid an envelope on the table. God I was so humiliated. Fuck, I had been pimped out by these dudes. Now I really was a whore. I hung my head in shame. "Strip sucker." I was instructed. I took off my clothes and stood there. Matt was fucking the shit out of Karen. And Karen was lying there, moaning and groaning like the cunt she was. She was actually babbling about 'cock', and 'cumming', and 'oooowwww' and 'uuuhhh'. Brian slapped Matt's ass as Karen came again. "My turn bud." He announced. Matt pulled out, hard cock waving in the breeze, and Brian plunged back into Karen's cunt. Matt stood up and saw me. He smiled. "Hey fag... sup man?" he smirked. I didn't say anything. "Have fun tonight?" he chided. "she sure did man, she's cum about 10 times now...." He laughed. "We gave her some Viagra too....Its awesome man..." he said. Brian was pumping here like crazy now. In and out, In and out. She was almost delirious. Moaning like mad. He pumped her real hard and yelled out as he unloaded another hot load of jizz into her sex-crazed pussy. Brian pulled out and stood up. "The fucking cunt is never satisfied." He smiled. "Get over there fag, and kneel in front of her, and lick out her pussy." Matt ordered me. I sank to my knees and started to lick her pussy. She just moaned and groaned. "Oh yeah...." She repeated. "Get that jizz out of her twat." Brian ordered. I pushed my tongue deep into her dripping pussy, sucking out the cum of Brian and Matt. They stood there watching me...........God I didn't know what to do next. They were figuring it out..........

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-13

Date: Tue, 12 Mar 2002 23:33:41 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: brothers sex slave, part 13 He made me stand in front of him. "Did ya fuck up?" he asked with a smirk on his face. "No, everything was OK." I tried to say. He reached over and picked up the phone. He dialed. "Joe..... Matt." I got very red in the face; I knew I was going to be busted. "How'd Billy make out today?" he asked. "Yeah.......yeah..........really?" I heard him "Then what happened?" he asked. "No shit!" he laughed. "K dude, keep up the good work man. Yeah, latter." And he hung up. He stood up and slapped me in the face, hard. "You told me everything was OK. You fucking liar." He slapped me again. I started to cry. "Please Matt, I was embarrassed. I tried not to fuck up but you guys made a mess of the drive in and I got in big trouble. Please....." I pleaded. "Yeah, so why did you lie to me?" he demanded. "I'm sorry..." I hung my head in shame. He smiled. "Not as sorry as youre gonna be fag." he said. "Get over here and bend over, stick your ass out" he ordered. He put me up against the wall, my head about 3 inches from it. He held me down, bent over. He then backed off, and then WHOOSH He kicked my ass hard. My whole body went forward and I whacked my head against the wall. I started to cry again. I pleaded with him to stop, but he just laughed. WHOOSH, he did it again. And again, and again. After about 8 times he stopped. "If you ever lie to me again, I'll cut off your balls!" he yelled. For emphasis he grabbed my nuts, and squeezed, real hard. I winched at the pain. "Yes, Matt, yes, please don't." I begged. He squeezed some more, liking my painful look. "You are such a fag!" he said as he released me. "I'm going over to Brian's....clean up the room." He ordered. "And get my homework done too." "OK." Was all I could say, as he walked out. I was in bed when he came home, so I didn't really see him that night. In the morning, he woke me up by rubbing his hard on all over my face. He grabbed my head and rammed his hard teen cock into my mouth and then proceeded to fuck my face. Finally he shot into my mouth and then released me. He didn't even say anything; he just pushed me away and walked into the bathroom to get ready for school. Because he was in the bathroom, I was late for school, but I rushed to make first class. I was just a little late, and basically was reprimanded in front of the class for being late. All I could say was "Sorry". The day was pretty uneventful, and then I had to rush to get to work. Joe just looked at me with a smug look on his face, as he ordered me to clean the bathrooms. So that's what I did. While I was cleaning the men's room, a couple of kids came in and made a mess, spreading used towels all over the floor, and splashing water on the mirrors. When I said something, they grabbed me and pushed me into the handicap stall. They shut and locked the door. One kid held me and the other punched me several times in the stomach. I whined and buckled over. "Hey, fag boy...wanna suck my cock?" said the one that was punching me. "Come on man, stop it...." I protested. He punched me several more times. "Well??" he demanded. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head to his crotch and started to rub it around my face. I tried to escape, but his bud held me tightly and I couldn't do anything. I could feel he hardening cock in his jeans, and I started to bone myself. He reach down and undid my jeans and yanked my jeans down, and then pulled my underwear down too. He looked at my shaved cock and started to laugh. "Fuck, I thought Joe was kidding, but look Mike, he is shaved." He said to his bud. I was so embarrassed. "And look at his hard dick, man, he loves this shit..." he said. He then grabbed me again, and rubbed his crotch in my face. "You gotta ask for it man..." he told me. His buddy was laughing like crazy. "This is so excellent!" he chimed in. "Please dude, don't do this..." I begged. He just smugly unzipped his jeans and pulled em down. He had no underwear on. Fuck the kid was hung. I just knelt there looking at his hard bone. It must have been about 7" long and pretty fat. He grabbed it and started to rub it around my face. Pretty soon, it was hard, and started to drip. He smugly looked at me and said, "You gotta beg for it man!" "Please, let me suck you.." I begged. He looked down at me with a smirk on his face. "Sure fag boy, kiss it first." I did, I kissed his cock head. "Open up sucker!" he ordered. I did and he rammed his meat into my sucking mouth. He grabbed my head, and pulled it forward till his whole cock was in my mouth and throat. I struggled for air, not being ready for it, but he could have cared less, he just started to pump my face. In, out. In, out. He ruthlessly rammed my helpless face. Like most kids, it didn't take long for him to groan and have his balls tighten as he jizzed my mouth. I choked on his cum. He laughed and made me swallow all of it. Then he turned me over to his buddy. The kid was not as hung as his bud was, but he also had a nice piece of cock meat. He fucked my face quickly and within 5 minutes was zipping up. I knelt on the floor with jizz leaking from my mouth. The guys were laughing as they left the men's room. After I finished cleaning up, I left the men's room, and reported back to Joe. He looked at me with a smug look on his face. "Everything OK?" he asked. "Yeah, sure Joe.." was all I could say. Little did I know, that Joe had sent those two in to have me give em blowjobs. Latter that afternoon, Joe had me report to the storeroom, and then made me strip and suck his cock off. He clearly enjoyed making me uncomfortable and lording it over me. He had me suck him for almost 15 minutes before he unloaded in my mouth. After, he made me lick his cock clean. Finally it was time to go. Fuck, I couldn't wait to get out of there. The next couple of days, before Thanksgiving were OK. I routinely sucked Matt every night, and Joe everyday. Sometimes, he would have me suck his buds at work, and of course Matt liked to slap me around as well. I was getting used to being Matt's sex slave, and Joe was just a thing I had to put up with to keep my job. I was looking forward to being off for a few days at the holiday. The day before Thanksgiving, Mom announced that Aunt Lois, Uncle Bert, and our cousin Mike, would be coming for Thanksgiving dinner. They lived in our state but quiet far away. We hadn't seen em for almost 2 years. Mike was a fun kid, but the last time we saw him, he was just 13. He was now 15, almost 16. I hoped that Matt wasn't planning any shit for the holiday!! Thanksgiving arrived, and about noontime, they arrived. We all went out to greet them. Fuck, did this kid grow or what!!! The lil dude was a real stud. Nice tight body, long blonde hair, and fucking blue eyes. He had a real cute pout to his lips. Course Matt right away tried to be the big shot. As it turned out, Mike was into all sorts of sports, being on the baseball team, soccer team, and during the winter, played basketball. But so far, Matt was behaving himself, so I figured, maybe things would be OK. After dinner, Matt suggested that we go toss the football around, and we did that for a while. Matt went in, and told Mom that we were going over to Brian's for a while. Oh fuck, I thought...... So we jumped in the Jeep and took off. Mike was very impressed with Matt's jeep. Very cool, he said. He said he could hardly wait till he was 16, and wanted a kewl jeep like Matt had. Of course, Matt just sat and ate it up. Big shot that he was. When we got to Brian's, we decided to shot a few hoops. So we were in the driveway shooting ball, and then Brian's parents said they were going out for a few hours. Pretty soon, Brian told me to come inside with him. We went to his room, and he told me to strip and get ready to suck him off. I didn't know what to do, but I figured whatever it was, I was going to end up with the short end of the stick. So, I slowly started to strip, as Brian went over and started up his hidden camcorder. I knew he filmed me before, so I didn't think too much about it. I got naked, as he wanted, and then he handed me a pill, and made me swallow it. I thought to myself, Oh fuck!! But I did as I was told anyway. "Kneel." He ordered. I got on my knees. He pulled his jeans off and then his jockey shorts. His cock bounced up and slapped his abs. It really did look good. He moved in front of me, and said: "Open up sucker!" I did as I was told. I started to suck him like I knew he liked. And, the pill started to work, I was getting boned up. Shit, I would have anyway, but the pill was making me super hard. It felt good. Suddenly, the door to his room opened, and in came Matt and Mike. Mike looked over at me and said: "Holy shit, what the fuck's going on??" Matt just looked at him smugly and said: "Oh didn't you know that Billy loved to suck cock?" "What the fuck happened to his hair and stuff?" asked Mike. "Oh, we shaved him, it was so much fucking fun" he laughed. "Whoa! Look at him sucking Brian. Man, this is incredible!" he said Mike couldn't take his eyes off of the action. Of course, Brian played it for all it was worth too. They both came over and stood next to me and Brian. I glanced up at Mike; the look on his face was priceless. He stood there watching me service Brian. I could see that he was starting to bone up too. Matt just looked smugly on. "You really mean that you didn't know about Billy?" asked Matt. "Fuck no man, I never knew he sucked like this." Said Mike. "Shit dude, you mean he never put his moves on you..." asked Matt. "The dude loves cock man, he sucks tons of guys.." I started to get embarrassed by what Matt was saying. "Wow, I never would have guessed this..." said Mike. "Cool, ain't it?" asked Matt. "Fuck man, I ain't never seen anything like this before." Said Mike. "You mean, you don't any hot younger cocksuckers falling over you meat man?" asked Matt. "Well, no, I've never been sucked..." he admitted. "Not even your girl friend?" asked Matt. "Naw, she won't do it, but I've fucked her a few times." Said Mike "Dude, come on, you ain't yourself a little jerk off bud or something?" he continued. "No, no one has ever sucked me, I'm telling ya." He said. "Well, today is your lucky day dude..." said Matt. "Oh fuck....." said Mike. "Soon as Brian feeds Billy his jizz, it's your turn dude..." said Matt. "Fuckin' A" said Mike, as he high fived Matt. That was the cue all right; Brian tightened up and then squirted 5 big squirts on my mouth. Everyone saw me gulping down the jizz. "Fuck.... he swallows and everything.." said Mike "Come on dude, whip it out and let the sucker take care of ya..." said Matt. Mike moved forward, and unzipped his jeans. I could see that he was tented, and I wondered how big my cousin had gotten. "Take em off." Said Brian. Mike undid his jeans and let em fall. He stepped out of them, and his cock was poking out of his boxers. He slid his boxers down and fuck.....6 1/2" of beautiful teen boy cock. Nice and cut, with a nice bush. Fuck did he look hot! Of course, the pill was working real good, I was so totally boned, it hurt. Mike looked down at me, and smiled as he moved his cock toward my mouth. I look up at him, and moaned as he slid his meat between my lips. He closed his eyes, and sighed. Matt and Brian looked at each other and smiled. They were filming the whole thing. Fuck, I couldn't believe my cousin. Shit, he turned into quite a stud since the last time I saw him. And his cock was great. Nice size for sucking. Oh man, listen to me; they've turned me into a regular cock hound!! Sometimes, I hate Matt for what he did to me, but then I taste dick, and fuck, I love it. Mike was pumping in and out like mad. Yeah, you could almost tell that this was his first blowjob. He was going mad with lust. Leaking precum and ramming me like the whore I was becoming. Fuck, I loved the feel of the dude. I was happy to be the first one to suck the stud. He lasted all of about 3 minutes, and then he tensed up and filled my mouth with sweet teen juice. Oh fuck, I grabbed my own cock and started to stroke. When Mike was cumming, he grabbed my head and pulled me in as much as he could. As he shot, he moaned, and I know he threw his head back. When he was done, he let go of me, and pulled out. His cock was wet with his jizz. "Oh fuck....that was awesome..." he said. "Hey man, I'm glad Billy was here to give you your first blow job dude...." Said Matt. "Yeah, he's pretty good at it." Chimed in Brian. "I can't fuckin believe this...." He sighed. "How did you guys get him to do this, I still don't get it.." asked Mike. "Fuck dude, it was in him for years.....I just helped him find himself..." laughed Matt. "Shit man, you can tell he loves it, look at that bone!" said Brian. "Man, fucking intense!" was all he could say. "Hey, if you can talk your folks into staying for the weekend, we could have some fun with Billy....I could drive you home on Sunday....what do you think??" asked Matt. "Yeah, this could be a very cool weekend...." Said Mike.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/spanked-houseboy

Date: Sat, 28 Dec 2002 21:26:39 -0800 From: TopLegal Subject: "Spanked Houseboy: Part 1" (MM, Spank) Spanked Houseboy: Part 1 ======================== By TopLegal WARNING This contains graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse and sadomasochistic activities between adult males. If this offends you, is not appropriate for viewing in your location, or you are not of legal age, do not read it. Any resemblance of characters in this story to the living is purely coincidental. (c) 2002, TopLegal. Permission is granted for distribution via Usenet and the Web provided that the following two conditions are met: there is no cost to access this story, e.g. AdultCheck, pay site, etc., and the story is posted in full without modifications. Introductions ------------- "A well spanked houseboy is a good thing," I explained to my guest as he admired my young houseboy. Naked save for an apron, the boy's well-spanked ass was visibly red. Jonas was twenty-seven and soon to turn twenty-eight, but to me he would always be a boy. My guest sighed slightly, "I've always been so jealous of you and Jonas. But I must confess I am amazed you find cause to spank him after five years." Jonas smirked, and caught my nod, "with respect, Master Scott's standards are quite high. Also, I get spanked once in the morning before he leaves for work, once when he returns, and once before we go to bed, just to remind me of my place." My guest looked at Jonas in disbelief, "you can't be serious, every day?" Jonas responded, "Yes, every day. Master Scott, may I be excused to finish my chores, Sir?" I nodded and allowed my guest to think about Jonas' statement. My guest sipped at his coffee, and commented, "it is getting late." "Gary," I said, "you always say that when you are getting uncomfortable. You have been graciously allowed to visit twice now without making a commitment and each time you have scurried home like a coward with your tail between your legs." "Ok," he mumbled. "Speak up Gary," I said. "Ok," he said. "Ok, what?" "Ok, I want to be trained." "Good, let's begin with your first lesson, every sentence addressed to me should begin with Sir, or Master, and end with Sir." "Sorry, Sir," Gary responded. "Tsk, tsk, no, you can't even get your apology right boy." "Sir, Sorry, Sir," he barked. "Better, but this is not the marine corps." "Master Scott, my apologies, Sir. Master Scott, I am ready to be trained if you will have me, Sir." "Much better, now what happens when a boy makes a mistake Gary?" "Sir, the boy should (1) apologize, (2) assure Master they will not repeat the mistake and (3) request punishment, sir." "It seems you have two steps to go boy." "Sir, correct, Sir. Sir, I will be more careful to start and end each of my sentences with Sir, Sir. Sir, could you please punish me for my mistake, Sir." I smiled broadly. This evening was the result of a year of patient liaisons with the young Gary and to have him at this moment surrendered to my houseboy training was an extremely arousing moment. First Spanking -------------- Since this is your first spanking, I will go over the rules: "It is very simple, spankings are a form of punishment, they are designed to hurt. I ~alone~ will decide how much to hit you to punish you and when you are sufficiently punished. Blocking access to your butt or pleading will result in extra punishment. The safest way to minimize extra punishments is to come over my lap immediately for all discipline sessions so I do not become further enraged." I paused. "Any questions?" "Sir, no, Sir." "Strip and come here then," I instructed. Gary removed his clothing in front of me without hesitation. He was a stunning Adonis, at 6' 2", he dwarfed me by a few inches and his body was rippled with well-defined muscles. Now he was mine. I helped him over my lap and administered twenty firm smacks to his buttocks. They were somewhat gentler than I might usually administer, but he was not familiar with the force of my hand and found the experience jarring and humiliating. I handed him an apron when I was done and told him to go help Jonas. I found both boys, red asses in the air, scrubbing the kitchen floor tiles a bit later. I took Jonas aside and fucked him on the countertop before allowing them to finish the floor. At bedtime, Gary's jaw dropped when he watched me pull out a wooden paddle and brutalize Jonas' ass with thirty blows for no other purpose than keeping my houseboy in his place. When it was Gary's turn, he hesitated for about a tenth of a second and I commented on that as I pinioned him to my lap and told him he was getting ten extra for hesitating. "No," he blurted out without thinking, and was clearly at a loss as to how to recover from his blunder. "What does a good houseboy do when he makes a mistake Gary?" "Sir, yes, sir. Sir, I apologize for hesitating and for questioning my punishment, Sir. Sir, it will not happen again, Sir. Sir, I would appreciate if you could further add to my evening spanking a punishment, Sir." "That's a good boy Gary," I said, "it will be one hundred blows with the paddle total." He nodded submissively and then did the only thing allowed: screamed and hollered in abject pain as I brutalized his ass violently with the paddle. When I finished, he stood up and thanked me for the punishment and for helping to train him. I kissed him on the forehead and took him to bed with Jonas and me. In the morning, I knew how sore Gary was because his ass was slightly swollen. I picked out a riding crop and administered it to Jonas first and then to Gary. This time, Gary showed no hesitation. I left Jonas to show Gary the housekeeping work and took my shower. After my shower I found Jonas and Gary cleaning the outdoor pool. I asked Jonas how Gary was doing and Jonas gave Gary's work a thumbs up. I slapped Jonas' ass and headed to my job. Work ---- "Hey Scott," Mike said, from my desk chair. "Get out of my chair Mike." "How's that cherry-boy Gary's ass?" "Mind your own business Mike." "Actually Scott, Gary ~is~ my business since you are ~supposed~ to be training him for ~me~." "Good point, now get the fuck out of my office." Mike got out of my chair. "That's better," I said as I flipped him onto my desk, pulled my belt off, and administered ten strokes of my belt to his ass. "Sorry about sitting in your chair Scott," Mike said, "it's just you have no other chairs in the office." "Why do you think that is Mike?" "So we all have to stand in front of you, subservient to you?" "Bingo," I said, "this is a three man-operation, and I'm the head of it." "Thank you for correcting me and for training Gary for me Scott." "Not a problem, how have you and Tom done so far today in the markets?" "Tom is up one-million and I'm up two, but we are going to close out our positions early." "Good," I said approvingly, "how are Tom and his houseboy doing?" "I was there last night, Nick is doing great. Ass was brighter red than an oven poker though." I smiled, "good." The rest of the day was uneventful and with Tom and Mike out of the market before noon, I headed home early to surprise Jonas. I came home to Gary napping on the couch and Jonas hard at work. I dismissed Jonas to the bedroom and pulled out a riding crop to punish Gary. I tapped Gary with the tip of the crop to wake him. "SIR," he exclaimed and jumped awake. "Come," I said as I lead Gary to the bedroom. Jonas was lying curled up on the bed and I took a wooden chair from the desk and guided Gary to bend over the back and grab the front. "Gary," I said, "a houseboy does ~not~ nap when there are chores to be done." "Sir, sorry, sir. My ass," he started and then stopped himself. "Sir, sorry for making an excuse, I really want to be a good houseboy for Mike, I've been living with him for two years and love him very much and want to make him happy. Sir." "All the more reason for you to be working harder at your training," I replied. "Sir," he said and then just started sobbing uncontrollably. History ------- Mike, Tom and I go back ten years, we had gone to college together and were an odd lot of friends pulled together by the common bond of being gay in a rural college. I had focused on mathematics and economics and worked for a year at Long Term Capital before it disbanded and then I moved back home where Tom and Mike were trying to start an accounting practice. I joined them and shifted our goals a bit towards personal moneymaking. I had never had sex with either of them, but I ended up spanking Tom first when he came up short for operating funds because he paid some bills. That started the practice in full-force in the office and after that point I was clearly ~the~ boss. When I met Jonah over the Internet and moved him to live with me, Tom and Mike became fascinated with how I treated him. So we settled on a deal. In addition to my role as boss of the office, I would help them bring their boyfriends over to the houseboy lifestyle after each of them made me ten million using our techniques. Tom had been quicker to the mark bringing me in the first ten million in about two years and his choice, Nick, was a young guy into s-and-m from New York who moved out to be a boy toy. Nick trained up nicely in about a year in my care. Mike in addition to taking longer to raise my share of the money, of course picked a young, local gay guy--Gary--who was a babe in the woods about sex. It had taken a year of coaxing to bring Gary to this stage and now he was going to take even longer to convert into a houseboy. Riding Crop ----------- I began to assault Gary's exposed and already swollen ass with the riding crop quickly. After a half-hour assault the welts were deep and close to bleeding. Only then did I stop. Jonas had watched the whole thing and with a nod from me as I left helped the younger trainee from the chair and down to the kitchen to work on dinner. Dinner was flawless, and afterwards I went into the kitchen and inspected Gary's tenderized ass. He thanked me profusely for the whipping and I decided to fuck him on the counter, which he enjoyed greatly despite his sore bottom. By bedtime, his temperament was much improved despite the coming spanking. Recognizing that a hand spanking would deliver the appropriate message, I administered Jonas' bedtime spanking first and then Gary's. In bed, he cuddled tightly to me and fell asleep like a baby. The next morning, a hand spanking reinforced the earlier messages for Gary and Jonas. As it was a Saturday, I had Gary make me breakfast while Jonas slept in. In the kitchen, Gary made several, very small mistakes. As each one was made under my watchful eye, I stopped him, and bent him over for a quick, but firm, set of swats on his ass with a wooden spoon. The Game -------- The doorbell rang as I was finishing up breakfast and I told Gary to answer it. He almost hesitated but I added, "Yes, you answer the door with just an apron and your red ass." I knew it was either Mike, or Tom and Nick. Either way, it was a good first door visit. It was Mike who kissed his boyfriend and commented that he looked good with just an apron. Mike then tweaked his nipples and reached under the apron to feel up the boy. I nodded approvingly and Gary kept his hands clasped behind his back. Jonas came down and waved to Mike and gave me a kiss for letting him sleep in. "Gary," I said, "enough horsing around with our guest, go help Jonas get the appetizers ready." Mike let go of Gary's cock and gave him a gentle shove--cheating--to spare the boy a whipping. As Gary exited, Mike commented, "you certainly haven't spared the rod Scott." I placed my hand on my belt, and Mike quickly added, "but a well spanked houseboy is a good thing." I nodded and moved my hand from my belt and then Gary left the room. We put on one of the football games and a few minutes later the bell rang again. Jonas sent Gary to get it and it was Tom along with his boy, Nick. Nick was wearing a trench coat that came off just inside the door and Tom felt Gary up liberally as well. Nick and Gary disappeared to the kitchen. Nick and Gary came out of the kitchen about ten minutes later with several appetizer platters. Tom grabbed Gary by the arm as the trainee tried to walk out and instructed Gary to suck cock. Gary looked to me and I nodded and then he got to work. When he brought Tom to orgasm, he came to me and repeated the job. Only then was he allowed to give his boyfriend and soon to be permanent owner a blowjob. Once the first round of blowjobs were over, Gary was dismissed and we sat around drinking beer and shooting the shit till dinner. At dinner the three houseboys brought our meals at once and then got under the table to give us blowjobs as we ate. It was a nice touch and each of us had a different man's houseboy. Mike was the most appreciative, "I'm really glad to finally participate in this Saturday ritual." As each of us finished dinner, we took the boy who was blowing us up from the table and fucked him bent over the dinner table. In the end there were three of us pounding our dicks into red-assed houseboys. When we finished Tom commented, "Got hand it to you Mike, I thought Gary would never make it this far, nice to see him really working to make your relationship happen." I noticed Gary swell with pride underneath Tom's massive cock, and was quite pleased. Mike responded back, "I love him so." Write the Author ---------------- These stories are e-mail'ware, show your appreciation by dropping some feedback (in English) to the author at toplegal@mac.com. See other works by me at $$

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-5

Date: Mon, 26 Nov 2001 22:38:23 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little brothers Sex Slave, Part 5 "OK, what do you want me to do?" I asked. "Strip" Matt casually ordered. I stood there looking dumb I'm sure. Matt yelled at me to get started. I started to take off my clothes. Pretty soon, I was standing there in front of these two teen jocks, naked. And as much as I hated it, my cock started to stir. Oh fuck, I thought, just what I need now, a hard on. Matt got up and went to his dresser. "Hey fag, look what Brian brought over," he said, waving a pair of handcuffs in front of me. He came over to me, and twisted my hands around in back of me. He quickly snapped the cuffs on. He slapped my face. "So what do you say fag?" he demanded. "Thank you Brian..." I stammered. "You are so ungrateful...it's hard to believe that you're my brother!" he said. "I'm sorry..." I offered. "I think the dude needs some punishment." Chimed in Brian. "Yeah, probably a good idea. What you got in mind?" asked Matt. Matt and Brian stood there, whispering to each other, so I couldn't hear. They were laughing and pointing at me. Matt came over to me and said: "Brian thinks you need a shave." He started to laugh. "What?" I asked. "You know, shave your cock and balls..." he smirked. "Oh no, Matt, please don't...." I started to beg. "Don't ya love it when he begs?" asked Brian. "I fucking love it man..." said Matt. "Just like that dude Dave we did that time." Said Brian. "Yeah, that was awesome.." said Matt. Matt walked to the bathroom and got the shaving stuff. I looked over at Brian, who was smiling at me. "Please Brian, don't do this to me." I pleaded. "But dude, its so much fun, ain't it..." he smirked. "Not for me, it isn't..." I said. "Well, if we don't do it, what will you do?" he asked. Matt came back and said: "Yeah, what's in it for us?" I hung my head, knowing that I was probably going to get fucked. "Well, I could....." I said quietly. "Huh..?" asked Brian. "I could, you know...." I stammered. "What dude?" asked Brian. I could see that he was clearly enjoying his dominance over me. "I could give you a blow job..." I said quietly, hanging my head. "Yeah, you'd give me a blow job?" he asked. "Yes" I said. "He does give pretty good blow jobs....." volunteered Matt. "Well, fuck man, lets do it then!" said Brian. He stood up and came over to me. I could clearly see his teen cock in his jeans as well as Matt's. Brian grabbed my tit and started to pull it. I grimaced as he twisted it hard. I looked at him and he was smiling. He was loving this. Matt was smiling too. Both were getting hard. "Get on your knees, fag" my brother told me. I knelt down waiting for them to strip. Both of them started to strip. Pretty soon they were both naked in front of me. I of course had seen Matt many times, but with Brian, it was a first. I stroked his cock and it was indeed fatter than Matt's. I just kept looking at it. "I guess you've been wanting to do this for a long time, huh?" asked Brian. Then I remembered that Matt had made me admit that I wanted to suck Brian and that they had it on the cam. "Yes, Brian, I do want it." I admitted. "Kiss it man." He ordered me. I leaned forward and kissed his hard cock. "Lick it up and down dude." He told me. I licked his cock up and down, getting it all wet and sloppy. He would grab my head and direct it where he wanted it. "Oh dude, that is so fucking good...." He said dreamily. "Hey....what about me?" demanded Matt as he slapped my head. "Well....I can't suck both of you..." I protested. "Fucking suck Brian, and jerk me at the same time." Matt ordered. So that's what I did. I sunk down on Brian's beautiful cock, and grabbed my little brothers dick with my hand and started to jerk him off, nice and slow. Brian was loving my sucking. He grabbed my head and rammed his cock all the way into my throat, choking me. He loved doing that. Watching me struggle to get it all in. He pumped me harder and harder. Matt was loving it too, watching me suck his best bud, as I jerked his cock. He knew he wanted to jizz my face and see Brian watch it. It took the studs about 5 minutes to get ready to nut. I could feel it. Brian's dick got harder, and I could feel his nuts tighten up. The whole thing was getting me excited too. I was harder than steel, but course I was cuffed, so I couldn't touch my own cock. Matt's cock was dripping precum, and I was rubbing it all over his dick. Then Brian yelled out "Fuck.........." And started to shoot in my mouth. I gulped to get it all, he came and came. Then, Matt let go, and jizzed my face. He smiled as his cum drenched my face. Finally, they were done, and pulled off of me. I slumped back on my knees and just stayed there. They were both out of breath, catching up. "He is a good cocksucker.." observed Brian. "Yeah, I'm glad we figured this out. Be a shame to waste his talents." Said Matt. "So you ready?" he said to Brian. "Yeah, lets do it!" said Brian. "I thought if I gave you a blow job, you wouldn't do it..." I protested. "I didn't say that...." Said Brian. "But...but please... come on guys, don't do this to me." I begged. They both laughed. "He is cute when he's beggin, ain't he?" said Matt to Brian. "Yeh, way cool, dude." Said Brian. They marched me into the bathroom and then lathered up my crotch, chest, and stomach. I tried to squirm away, but they just slapped me around till I did what they wanted. When I was all lathered, they took turns scraping the razor over my cock and balls, my stomach and chest. I begged and cried, but they just did it anyway. They laughed and high fived each other. It was so embarrassing. After they did my front, they turned me over and did my ass. Of course it was still sore from when Matt slapped me. As he was shaving me, he was telling Brian all about it. It was as if I was an object, not even human. When they were done, they washed me down and then dried me off. But of course, my cock was still way hard. "I think he looks better like this, don't you?" said Matt. "Yeah, a lot more like a pussy...." Said Brian. "Yeah, quite the cunt....Huh?" said Matt. I was just whimpering. I was so embarrassed by this. "Oh, Billy, I brought you a present." Said Brian. He went to his backpack, and reaches in, and brought out a dildo. "Oh my god...!" I gasped. Brian and Matt burst out laughing. "Yeah, cool, huh?" said Matt. "Almost as good as Alan..." offered Brian. They were so embarrassing. But of course they had the whole thing on their computer. I was definitely fucked. "Bend over, big bro...." Demanded Matt. I did, and he rammed the dildo right up my ass. I yelled out in pain, they didn't even lube it up. But Matt just started to fuck me with it. He made me lay on the bed, and he fucked my ass with this fucking dildo. It didn't take long, cause; I was so horned up anyway. He knew where to hit my nut, and in about 3 minutes, after I moaned like the whore boy I was becoming, I shot a huge load all over my smooth chest and stomach. They laughed at that too. Brian sat on the bed with me, and stuck his fingers in each pile of cum. Then he would move it to my mouth and make me lick my own jizz off of his finger. He loved it, and made me ask for more each time he feed me. After he was done, Matt said: "Oh, by the way, from now on, we want you to wear these instead of your regular underwear." He threw me an old jock strap. It was one of his old ones, stained, and too fucking small. They made me wear it. It hurt because it was so small, but also made me look huge in the small cup. "Yeah, that looks cool." Said Brian. "You better make sure you always got this one, I'm gonna check during school. If you ain't got this on, you're going to be in deep trouble..." he said, and then burst out laughing. "Well, dude, I gotta run Brian home, see you latter......oh, leave the dildo in dude......" he said, as they left. E mail me what you think... Billy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-6

Date: Fri, 07 Dec 2001 12:26:06 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little-brothers-sex-slave, part 6 I sat on the bed and cried. I was so embarrassed by what these two jocks had done to me. I couldn't figure out any way out of this mess. They were trying to turn me into a sex slave. I just couldn't let them show those pics that they had to anyone. It would just ruin my life. I was at their mercy, that's for sure. And now, I had to get my old job back at McDonalds. Of course I couldn't tell my father that the reason I left to start with was because the manager was putting moves on me. He even got to the point of threatening me, if I didn't put out for him. Now I had to go back and work there again. I wasn't sure how I would be able to handle that one either. After I stopped crying, I got the phone and called him. He agreed to meet me the next afternoon. Matt got home right about dinnertime. During dinner, all he did was chat about what was going on with the teams and stuff. He told my father that he and Brian had to practice a lot together, and that he would be around a lot. Of course Dad bought it, he always bought everything Matt said. All Matt did to me was sit there and smirk. He knew he had me by the balls. Dad questioned me about McDonald's. I told him I had an appointment with the manager the next day. He admonished me to "not fuck it up!" I said I wouldn't. So after dinner, Matt and I went outside and shot some hoops. I couldn't move very well, because I still had the dildo in my ass. I figured, I better not piss him off any more than I could. Naturally, he was pretty aggressive, and kept on bumping me, and pushing. He liked to do that. Finally, it got dark, and we went inside. After we were in our room, Matt approached me. "How's your present feel?" he asked. "I don't like it...." I answered meekly. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to make you wear it to school." He answered cockily. "Oh no, Matt, please don't..." I pleaded. He smiled and said: "What's the matter fag, don't want the guys in gym to see a dildo sticking out of your ass?" "You know what I mean. Isn't it bad enough that I do what you tell me to, and Brian too? Now your going to humiliate me by making me wear this thing." I said. "But dude, I thought you'd like it." He said. "Well, it hurts, and I don't like it." I said. "Tell ya what big bro, lets see if we can't make it fit a little better." He smirked. "Why don't we get out of those clothes, huh?" he said. Matt walked over and locked our door, Thank god. I stripped. My cock was stuffed into his too small jock strap and was rubbing on my cleanly shaved crotch. I took off everything. I shook my self a little to loosen up. He came closer to me and looked me over. "You look really cool with no pubes bro. I'm glad Brian had that idea to shave ya. Makes your little pencil cock look bigger too. You should be glad." He laughed. I was soo embarrassed, I could have died. I felt really naked standing in front of my little stud brother while he made fun of me. "Course, I don't know what the guys in gym will say..." he laughed. "OK bro, lay on the bed and lets pull that dick out of your ass...." He smirked. I lay on my stomach, but he told me to lie on my back. "Pull it out." He ordered. I did. God it felt good. "About the size of Alan, ain't it?" he asked. "No, it's bigger." I answered. "Probably not the biggest you've had though." He said. "Yes, it is." I said. He laughed. Of course I started to get hard from this activity. He looked down and me and smiled. "Man, you sure are horny, ain't ya?" he asked. "Come on Matt, I can't help it. All this stuff gets me hard, that's all." I answered. "That's cuz you're a fag, and you like it," he said. "Hey, I got a plan...." Said Matt. "What?" I asked. "Let's go on line and do some 'chatting' with some of your fag buds.," he said. He moved to the computer and told me to sit next to him. "OK, let's log into gay.com and go to the chat room" he instructed me. I did as he wanted. When the screen came up, he told me to enter my name and address that he gave me. I was already getting nervous. I did as he told me to, and we logged into the cyber fun room. All of a sudden, we start getting all these hits. "Cool pics dude!" most of them were saying. Matt was smiling. "OK, now, lets have some fun!" he said. He told me to start chatting with dudes that he picked. He wanted to play games with some of the dudes, and see if they had pics and stuff for trade. Of course, I didn't know it then, but he and Brian had already doctored up some of the pics from the cam, and now had them ready for distribution on the net to certain "guys" that they picked. Matt was having a good time, directing me to act like a bottom. He wanted these guys to talk me into doing things. And he made me do them. Slapping my nips and balls, thinks like that. He thought it was a real hoot to get some dudes all horned up while looking at pics of me. They were all asking real embarrassing questions about sexual preferences, habits and stuff. He told me to sound real hot for my buds. Thank god I didn't have to see these dudes in person. Another thing, all this hot chat was getting me hard too. Matt saw this and smiled. After a couple of hours of this he decided he had enough. We logged off. He sat on his bed. "Come here." He commanded. I stood in front of him. "No, fag, kneel...." He ordered. I got on my knees. He stood up and I was eye to eye with his dick lump. He looked real hot in his jeans. Slowly he took off his shirt. Then he unzipped his jeans. I could see that he had a jock strap on. He stepped out of the jeans and then turned around and told me to "kiss his ass." I did it. He turned around again and told me to lick his hard jock. I did that too. Pretty soon his jock was all wet from my mouth. "Pull it down Billy and suck my cock!" he ordered. I pulled his jock down and his cock sprang out. I wrapped my cocksucker lips around his meat. I gulped his cock down as best as I could. He stood there, looking down at me. Smile on his face. He grabbed my hair and yanked me forward roughly. "MMMHHHH...." He sighed. He held me there, choking my throat with his cock. I tried to struggle, but he was too strong. Finally he released me. He laughed. He lay down on his bed. "Stand next to my bed, and bend over the just suck the head of my cock." He ordered. "Rub the head and ridge with your lips and make it feel good fag." He told me. So I did that. I moved my head as best as I could to make him feel good. He let me do that for almost 15 minutes. I was getting tired, but kept it going. He just lay there with a real dreamy expression on his face. Finally he said: "I'm going to cum in your mouth. Don't swallow it, just take it....keep up that motion." He said. So I did what he told me. Finally, he shuttered and his cock exploded in my mouth. His strong jets of jism filled my mouth. I didn't swallow as he told me. When he was done, he told me to hold his cum in mouth. He got up and looked at me. "You are some sorry fag....look at you, standing there with cum in your mouth and a hard cock sticking out. What a fucking fag!!" he said. I felt embarrassed. What could I do? I looked at him smirking at me, and felt just like what he said I was. He was the man, I was the fag. It just made my cock harder, and drip more. "Open your mouth." He ordered. I did and some of his jizz dripped out of my mouth and onto my chin. He laughed. "Swallow it fag." He told me. I did. Gulped it down and licked my lips. "Get you cuffs out fag," he ordered. I did, and he snapped em on. "Why are you doing this Matt?" I asked. "I don't want you playing with your pencil dick tonight. I want you horned up for your job interview tomorrow," he said. "Why are you doing this to me, Matt?" I asked He looked me in the eye and said: "Because I can, fag; because I can." He smiled. " Besides, Brian thought it would be cool to keep you horned up for a while" he smirked. "Why are you doing what Brian wants you to?" I asked. "I'm not. Brian is my buddy. He doesn't have a bro to fuck with, so I decided to let him have a piece of you too. After all, we've shared cunts, why not suckers." He replied. "Shared cunts?" I asked. "Sure, we've tag teamed Karen a couple of times. She loves it, two hot teen studs, fucking her hot teen twat. Way cool bro....you should try it sometime" he laughed. "Oh, by the way, I'll take you to school tomorrow..." he said as we went to sleep.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-8

Date: Sat, 15 Dec 2001 17:24:59 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: little brothers sex slave, part 8 The next day was Friday. At least he didn't make me wear the jock strap or the dildo to sleep. I slept OK. I had to get up earlier than him, to catch the bus. I got out before he woke up, so I didn't wear the jock strap to school. But today, I had gym, so I knew I was going to it from the guys about my shaved crotch. I walked to the bus stop and kinda stood there, all dejected. Another kid showed up and we talked. He was younger than me, but treated me like shit. I hated this whole deal. But what could I do?? Anyway, things went OK, till gym. I tried to hurry but one of the dudes saw that I had a shaved cock and balls. Naturally, he spread it around. A couple of times, dudes would come up to me and ask if it was true. I didn't know what to say, so I would just say, "shut up". They all kinda looked at me funny, and smirked. When it came time for showering, I was so embarrassed, I just changed and ran for the bus. There was no way I could face the guys like this. As I got home, I saw that Matt's jeep wasn't there. Thank God, I thought. So I went in and took a long hot shower. After that I lay on the bed resting. Thank god it was the weekend. I could rest till Monday, and then I had to go to work after school. I think I needed it. I must have fallen asleep, because Matt woke me up about 5:30. "Hey fag...." He yelled. "What?" I asked. Hey man, you and I are going to spend the weekend with Brian at his place..." he said. "Huh?" I asked. "Yeah, Dad said it was OK. Probably wants a weekend with you away, don't ya think??......maybe gonna fuck ma!" he snickered. "Youre sick!" I shouted. He laughed real hard. "Sure fag boy....here, drink this juice I brought ya." He handed me a glass. I was thirsty, so I did drink it. Matt threw some things in a bag, and then threw some clothes at me. "Here, I want you to wear these." He announced. I looked at what he gave me. It was the ripped jeans and tight t-shirt. "Come on Matt, I don't wanna wear these..." I protested. He came over and slapped my face. "I don't care what you want. Just get em on, and let's go." He said sternly. So I changed. I stripped down, and started to put the ripped jeans on. "Take the underwear off fag, I want you commando,..." he said. What could I do, I did as he said. Pretty soon we were ready and we took off. It took about 10 minutes to get to Brian's. No one was home except Brian. Brian was an only child anyway. His parents were away visiting for the weekend, and they trusted him to stay alone. I was feeling really sexy in my ripped jeans and all, and I was starting to throw some wood. I wasn't sure why, but I had a nice dick outline in my jeans. We went in. "Hey guys..." shouted Brian. He came up to me and looked me over. "That a banana in your pants, or you just happy to see me." He laughed. I turned red. "He's happy to see ya" chimed in Matt. He laughed too. "I got the videos, let's watch one..." said Brian. We all sat down in the den, and Brian started to VCR. It was porn. But it was straight porn. About 1/2 hour into the movie, Brian got up to get some drinks. He came back with 3 beers. He handed me one. I sipped it. Brian and Matt started to slug theirs down. We watched a little more. We were all getting pretty hot, but I was fucking out of control. My cock was just huge and I couldn't keep it down. The boys were getting hard too, but not as bad as me. Matt grabbed my beer and Brian held my head, and they forced it down my throat. "Yeah, fag, you gotta keep up with us.." announced Matt. Brian went and got another round. We finished watching the video, and Brian announced, he had another one he wanted to see. This one was gay, and had all kinds of bondage and S/M scenes in it. The dudes were way hot, and horned, and I was really loving it. Brian and Matt watched it, and me, and kinda snickered. Every once in a while, they would ask me if I liked the dudes, or if I had done that...they seemed to like to embarrass me. Finally, Matt announced that he felt I should strip for them. He told me to stand in front of them, and remove my clothes. I was so fucking horned, I just did it. The tight clothes were killing me, and I did want out of em. So I did as my lil bro ordered me. I stood in front of em, and stripped. Pretty soon, I was naked, and boned. They just looked me over and smiled. Matt told me to sit down. I sat between them. "Man, I guess you really like this shit, huh?" snickered Brian. Matt looked over at me. "Yeah, I guess he does." He said. "I don't understand it, I've never been this horned up in my life..." I stammered. Brian and Matt looked at each other and started to laugh. "Maybe it's the sweet jizz I've been feeding you...." He snickered. "Yeah, that's it" said Brian. "Yeah, speaking of that, how about a little head fag?" asked Matt. "Yeah, I think he needs some hard cock in his mouth." Said Brian. So they made me kneel in front of them. They both just unzipped and let their cocks stick out. They kept their jeans on. I was told to lick first one cock and then the other. I did this for almost 10 minutes as they watched the video. Every once in a while, they would slap my head to keep me moving from one cock to the other. Then they decided it was time to nut. So they rammed their cocks into my mouth and throat. First one, then the other. They were enjoying having me sucking their hot cocks and making me go from one to the other. I was enjoying it too, as I was sooo boned! Even though I was embarrassed by all that was happening to me, I was so incredibly horny by it all. I knew I loved being taken advantage of by my hot bro and his bud. I was loving the hot cocks they were feeding me, and I was unable to do anything but suck harder and harder! It didn't take long, first Brian, and then Matt started to squirt their hot jizz into my mouth. I loved the taste. I tried to get as much as I could. Some went up on my face and some in my hair. The boys did their best to feed me. God I loved it. After they were done, they sat back and laughed. "Fuck dude, you love it don't ya?" asked Matt. "Oh yeah, I guess I did...." I admitted. "Yeah, I know you do, look at that bone man!" said Brian, pointing at me. I couldn't understand how I was soo turned on to these dudes. But I did love it. I reached down and started to stroke my cock. Brian slapped my hand away. "No way man, I want you horned up. Keep your hands away from your fag dick!" he warned. I took my hands away as he instructed. "Time to eat dudes. I'll order a pizza," Brian announced. He left and came back in a minute with 3 beers. He handed me mine. "Hey, I got you a present man.." he announced. He left the room and came back with a 14" black dildo!! Matt started to laugh out loud. "Fuck dude, where did you get that??" he asked Brian. "That adult place on Elm St." said Brian. "What'd ya think Billy, kewl, huh?" asked Brian as he rubbed it over my face. Matt reached over and slapped my face. "Thank Brian for your present fag!" He admonished. "Thanks Brian....I really like it.." I said stupidly. "Fuck dude, you don't know you like it yet....gotta try it on!" he snickered. "It's so big though" I protested. "Get over here, I'll help ya..." said Brian. I came over to him and he bent me over the coffee table. From some place, he came up with a little lube, stuck his finger in my ass, and then started to ram the dildo up my ass. I gotta admit it was hot. I loved the feel of it. He got about 4 inches in me, and then told me to get more in. They told me to lie on the floor and fuck myself with it, till most of it was in me. I did that, I lay on the floor and reached over and fucked myself with the dildo. I was trying to go slow, cause it felt better than ramming it. Brian and Matt sat on the couch snickering at me. Then, when almost 9 inches were in me, they told me to fuck myself, in and out with it and to enjoy myself, but not cum. I couldn't believe how horny I was from this thing. My cock was huge, even more because I had no hair on my body there anymore. I was dripping precum like crazy, but I couldn't touch my cock without them slapping me around. So I lay there and fucked myself. All of a sudden the doorbell rang. Oh fuck, it was the pizza delivery! What could I do? Matt told me to just lie there and keep fucking myself. Brian got up and went to the door. "Hey Joe, come on in...." he said. Joe the pizza kid was about 16 1/2, 6-1, kinda skinny, but nice looking. I knew that he was on the basketball team with both Brian and Matt. Joe entered the living room and stopped short as he saw me on the floor, naked, fucking myself with the black dildo. "Whoa......dudes! What the fuck!!" he said. "You know my older bro?" Matt asked. "Yeah. What happened to his pubes man?" Joe asked. "We shaved em off" said Matt. "What the fuck, man, is he a fag?" asked Joe. "What do you think dude?" asked Matt. "Look at him, fucking himself, jizz on his face and in his hair. The dude loves it man, he loves sucking hot cocks." Said Matt. "Yeah, the more cock he gets the happier he is. Look how happy he is on that dildo man...." Chimed in Brian. I just lay on the floor, on the dildo, embarrassed to death, but what could I do. "Hey man, wanna come back after work and try him out?" asked Matt. "Yeah, we got some beer and stuff. We could make him your tip!" added Brian. "Cool..." said Joe and turned to leave. They all laughed at my expense, but it didn't make my cock go down. "Get up here fag, and have some chow." Said Matt. I stopped fucking myself and tried to take the dildo out. "Leave it in." ordered Brian. So, I knelt in front of the coffee table and had some pizza. They gave me another beer. I couldn't believe that my cock was till hard through this. I didn't understand why it stayed so hard, it was embarrassing. They just sat there munching pizza, gulping beer and chatting casually. Finally, they were done, Brian said: "Oh Matt, I almost forgot, the most important part" He reached in the coffee table drawer and pulls out a little switch thing. "Watch this...." He announces. He pushes the button, and all of a sudden, the fucking dildo starts to vibrate in my ass! God, it was wiggling around, hitting my prostrate, driving me crazy. I wiggled and twisted and moaned. They almost burst a gut laughing at me. They told me not to touch myself. I was twisting, trying to deal with it, but I couldn't do anything. "Ya like it fag?" asked Brian. "Please Brian, make it stop man, please. You're driving me crazy!" I pleaded. He just laughed some more. So did Matt. I lay on the floor, wriggling around, trying to avoid the sensation. "Please Matt, Brian, please, stop..." I begged. "Aw come on dude, don't ya like?" taunted Brian. "Please stop....." I begged. They whispered to each other. And then they shut the vibrator off. "We don't want you to cum yet dude, so we're stopping," said Matt. "Yeah, we like you all horned up!" laughed Brian. "So, what do you say, fag?" demanded Matt. "Thank you, Brian, thank you..." I said sheepishly. "That's better." Said Matt. They got up and decided I should go upstairs. They grabbed my arms and guided me upstairs to Brian's room. The room was pretty big; he had a nice desk, computer, and a TV on the dresser. "Lay on the bed." Matt ordered. I got on the bed, and then they tied my arms to the bedposts, and my legs to the posts at the bottom of the bed. I was spread eagle and horned like a bitch and I couldn't do anything about it. They rammed the dildo back into my butt, and laughed as they turned it on. I moaned and groaned and begged em to stop, but they didn't. Brian produced a gay video and popped it into the TV. He also had some headphones, and put those over my ears. He turned the sound up real loud. Thank god they turned the vibrator off when they left me there. I couldn't do anything, but watch the hot dudes on the TV fuck and suck. Man, it was hot, and so was I. They laughed as they left the room. I guess about 2 hours went by, cause the tape ended. All of a sudden, they burst into the room, laughing and poking each other. I could tell they had both been drinking more. Brian undid me, and I got up. Matt produces a beer and made me chug it. Of course my cock was still hard, especially from watching the movie, and that dildo didn't help matters. They tied my hands behind my back and grabbed my arms, and lead me downstairs to the living room. As I entered, I saw Joe had come back. He was drinking beer too, sitting casually in a chair. He had a smug look on his face. Matt made me kneel in the middle of the room. They then sat down and started to chat as if I wasn't even there. Finally, Matt asked Joe: "So dude, wanna get your cock sucked?" Joe answered: "fuck yeah." "Fag, crawl over to Joe, and get his cock out." Matt ordered. I crawled over to him, but my hands were tied. "I can't get his cock out because my hands are tied." I said. Brian got up and came over to me, and slapped my head several times. "Stupid bitch, use your mouth!" he ordered. He pushed me towards Joe. I crawled a little closer, and then moved my head to his crotch. I tried to use my mouth to undo his jeans. I managed to get his jeans undone, and then caught my teeth on his zipper. I unzipped him, and tried to move his pants apart. Thank god, he wasn't wearing any underwear. I could get to his cock. I reached in with my tongue and grabbed his cock and pulled it free. It was about 6 1/2 " and nice cut meat. He kinda shifted so I was able to free it more. I started to lick and suck it. "Man, I can't believe you've turned your older bro into a cocksucker." Said Joe. "I think he's been a cocksucker all his life." Said Matt. "Just needed a little encouragement to realize his full potential." "He sure likes it..." said Brian. "Yep, and loves jizz too..." chimed in Matt. "Why is he so boned man?" asked Joe. "Cause we've been feeding him Viagra..." laughed Matt. Oh my God, I thought, that's why I'm so boned! And he's been feeding me stuff for almost 3 days!! All of a sudden it became clear. "Holy shit, your kidding." Said Joe. Brian and Matt were laughing like crazy. Joe started to snicker too. "Don't you think it makes him suck better, when he's all boned up and horny?" asked Brian. "Fuck yeah...." Said Joe. "Besides, you can tell, he fucking loves cock man, look at him chowing on your cock dude." Said Brian. "No doubt about it." Said Joe. And yeah, I was chowing. Joe had a nice cock and I was boned, and I wanted to feel his hot meat in my mouth. I wanted to feel his cock squirt in my mouth. I wanted it. I knew it. Joe was way hard, really getting into the suck. He was rocking his hips in tempo with my sucking. "What else have you done to him?" asked Joe. "Spanked him, shaved him, blackmailed him, made him watch me fuck Karen." Said Matt. "Fucking unreal...ever fuck him?" asked Joe. "Not yet, but maybe tomorrow we will" laughed Matt. Brian turned on the vibrator and Joe got huge, and shot a huge load of teen boy juice down my throat. I came so close to cumming, but they turned it off in time. I lay there panted and moaning after Joe shot his load. "How was he man?" asked Matt. "He's a fucking natural dude, a real natural......" I was embarrassed, but I knew it was true. I wonder what else they would do to me.......

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-11

Date: Thu, 24 Jan 2002 21:03:02 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: little brothers sex slave, part 11 As I finished sucking her, she must have passed out, because, she just moaned and rolled over. Matt and Brian were standing next to me, whispering to themselves. I had cum and cunt slope all over my face. I also had a huge bone. "Get over on the bed, on your back, with your head hanging over the side." Matt ordered. I moved to comply. "Spread 'em fag..." ordered Matt. I spread my legs for him. My cock sticking out hard. "I gotta fuck ya bro..." He said. "I just gotta have your cherry..." By then, I was beyond caring, I guess, I just stared up at him blankly. He moved between my legs, his hard cock pointing at my ass. He smirked as his cock touched my hole. I twitched and then realized I was gonna get fucked. He pushed and it hurt. I winched as his cock started to push into my hole. He laughed at that. "Come on fag, you know you need it!" he said. "Please, Matt, be gentle..." I moaned. At that he rammed his hard teen meat all the way in. I screamed. "Sure bro...no problem!" he laughed. "AAUUUGGHHH..." I moaned. He just rammed harder. Pretty soon I was moaning from pleasure. Fuck his cock felt good. I was horned up, and he felt real good. All I could do was look up at him as he sneered at me with lust. "Yeah, fag, I knew you'd love this cock man....feel it!!" he said, as he rammed me harder. He looked so good, sexy, and hot, I just loved it!!! I moaned out loud some more. My eyes rolled back. I was my little brothers fag bitch, and I was liking it! He was playing with me during his fuck. He would pulled almost all the way out and leave his cock there. Staring at me. I would push back, not wanted him to leave. He knew it and pulled back more. I moaned, begging him not to take it out. Then he would ram back in, all the way to his pubes, causing me to winch in pain as his dick bottomed out. Sometimes, he would just fuck real slow, watching me get comfortable in his rhythm, and other times he would jab me quickly several times, to make sure I was paying attention to his cock. Every once in a while, he would ask me questions. "You like my cock fag boy??" or "Take it bitch boy!" or "How's it feel sucker?" I could really only answer with grunts and moans as he fucked me. He knew exactly where to hit my prostrate too. Fuck he drove me crazy, teasing and then ramming me. My cock was hard and dripping precum all over the place. His fuck lasted about 15 - 20 minutes when he concentrated on my prostrate. God he was good! I was moaning and lost in the fuck, when I felt my balls tighten and then fuck......I started to cum!! I wasn't even touching my cock, and I was shooting the biggest load ever!! Matt saw it, knew what was going down, and fucked me clear into next week. I was so hot; I even started to weep a little. He looked down at me with that smug look of his, and knew I was his!! After I came, He pulled his cock out of my pussy, and jacked off on me! His cum spurted all the way to my face. He looked so hot, shooting his jizz at me. I watched as it erupted and splashed on my face, then my chest and then my stomach, and finally my own cock and balls. I had cum all over me. Mine and my younger brothers. Fuck it was hot. "Eat it up fag!" he instructed. I immediately started to stick my fingers in each pile of jizz, and then bring them to my mouth, and eat them. It was then, that I noticed Brian standing there with a camcorder. "Get it all?" asked Matt. "Yep...it was hot man!" said Brian. I was so embarrassed, I just started to cry. "Matt, why are you doing this to me?" I asked as I wept. He looked down at me, and smiled. "Cuz I wanna fag boy, and I can!" he sneered. "Besides, its fun!" he laughed. Naturally, Brian got that on tape too. "Hey, I want him to suck my cock man.." said Brian. "Yeah, lets get a good video of that" said Matt. So they set that up. I was on my knees, right in line with Brian's cock. They made me lick it up and down, and suck just the tip the tongue him all over. And they made me talk about what was going on too. How I loved sucking hot teen cocks. How I loved jizz, and needed cock to be happy. I was told to make love to his cock, and so I did. It was embarrassing, but hot at the same time. Matt had the camera right next to us, so you could really see his cock and me! After about 10 minutes or so, Brian tightened up and then loaded my mouth with cum. Before he was done shooting, he pulled out and sprayed the last of his cum on my face. I reach up and grabbed his hot cock and jerked the last of his load on to my face. Both Matt and Brian were happy with the movie. And It was late, and we were all kinda beat. Me especially. We all kinda collapsed and feel asleep. The next morning, they woke up before me. I was awaken by a cock in my face! It was Matt's. "Hey fag, wanna suck my meat man?" he asked as he poked his cock into my mouth. What chance did I have to say anything? Pretty soon, Brian woke up too. "Hey bud....giving the cocksucker his breakfast??" he asked. "Yeah...He looked hungry, come over here and let him jerk you too." He said. Brian did that. I was sucking Matt and jerking Brian. Really getting into it too. Then Karen woke up. "What the fuck are you doing?" she asked, not knowing what was happening. "What's it look like?" asked Matt. "Oh my God!!" she shouted. "You guys are making him suck you off!!" she shouted. "Fuck bitch..he loves it, and sucks better than you do!" said Brian. Matt just laughed, enjoying having his older brother suck him off in front of a girl. "He do this often?" she asked, now curious. "As often as I want him to." Answered Matt. She was next to us watching everything. "You might learn a thing or two from this fag.." said Brian. "Look at that technique" observed Matt as she watched intently. I was embarrassed to be sucking Matt's cock in front of his girl, but thought, 'fuck her'. To myself. So I continued to suck till he shot his load in my mouth. Naturally, Brian shot right after that, all over my face. "Wow....wait till I tell the girls" was what she said. "Oh please, don't tell anyone Karen..." I begged. The two of them just snickered. "Come on, let's get you home lady...." Matt said. "I wanna fuck more...." Cooed Karen. "Latter bitch, I just shot my wad into bro here.." said Matt. "Aw come on, I'm horny..." she protested. "I said latter!" yelled Matt. That settled it, and they all got dressed and ready to go. "Clean this place up fag, when we get back, it better be clean. Brians folks will be home latter." I was instructed as they left. I slowly got moving, and first took a long hot shower, and then started to clean Brian's house...... I wondered what else they had in store for me....

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-21

Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2002 19:11:02 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: Little Brother Sex Slave, part 21 The next morning, Brian and Matt got me and Mike up. After a long hot shower, we felt pretty good. Today was the day Matt was going to take Mike home. After breakfast, we took off. When we got home, it was about 10:30. Mike was acting OK. Matt told our parents that he was going to run Mike back to his house. It was about an hour away. They said OK. Matt instructed me to clean up our room. After all, I guess I was his slave, so I had to have domestic duties too. After about an hour, Mike and Matt left. After they had driven out of town on the way to Mike's, Matt handed Mike a cd player. "Put this on, present from Brian" he ordered. Mike just nodded OK, and put the cd in the player, put the headphones on and started to listen. It was a cd that Brian had made to reinforce Mike's new position in life, that of cocksucker, and little whore boy for others. Mike soon had a glazed over look on his face. Matt smiled and turned the radio up loud. He laid back and drove the 60 miles to Mike's town. As they got near, Matt got out his cell phone, and called Scott. They made plans to met at Scott's house. Mike was surprised when they drove up to Scott's. Scott came out, and said that no one was home, except him. Scott looked at Mike, who was still listening to the cd. "Dude..." said Matt. "Hey Matt.." said Scott. "Man, I just can't believe about Mike. Such a fucking cock hound!!" said Matt. "Yeah, well, I guess..." said Scott. "I gotta admit youre a lucking dude. It's fucking cool having a bro or a bud always ready to suck ya off. You know how some chicks hate sucking cock. It's great to be able to nut anytime you need it." Smirked Matt. Mike just stood there in silence, listening to all that Matt was saying. He didn't argue, after all, how could he. He was starting to bone up just thinking of sucking Scott off. "Look at the dude, he's getting hard just thinking of cock!" observed Matt. Scott looked and saw what he was talking about. "Bet you could use some hard cock, right Mike?" taunted Matt. Mike just hung his head in shame. "C'mon, lets go to your room, and see how talented Mr. Mike really is." Suggested Matt. They all went inside and up to Scott's room. When they got there, Matt grabbed Mike's hand and put it on his cock. "hey mike, feel that??" he taunted. "Want some man?" he asked. Mike felt Matt's bulge and now was visibly hard in his shorts. "Yeah Matt, I want some.." he said quietly. "Yeah, thought you did." Smirked Matt. "Get it out dude." He ordered. "On your knees!" he told Mike. Mike sank to his knees and then unzipped Matt's jeans. He reached in the pulled out his beautiful meat. He stroked it a couple of times, and then opened his mouth and sucked the cock in. Scott stood there, amazed at his bud. "Oh yeah...." Moaned Matt, as he rocked back and forth in Mike's mouth. "C'mon Scott, get it out man, let's see how Mickey likes your cock dude!" suggested Matt. Scott came over, and unzipped his shorts, and pulled out a nice looking boy cock. It was already almost all the way hard. Matt smiled. Matt grabbed Mike's head and pulled him off of his cock. "Suck Scott man!" he ordered. Mike looked up at his bud, and opened his mouth and sucked the hot teen all the way in. Scott moaned his approval. It wasn't long before Scott was pumping the sucking face of Mike. He was really getting into it. Then Matt pulled him off and made him suck his cock. "Jerk one, suck one, cunt!" he yelled as he slapped Mike's head. Mike complied. "I think you're going to have to work on this boy's manners," said Matt to Scott. "Sometimes, he is just so fucking dumb!" Matt added. "This is amazing," offered Scott as he was being long sucked by Mike. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it either, but once he saw my cock man, he just had to have it. Same with Brian. The boy is really a cock hound. Well, you saw the pics that I emailed ya. He fucked like a champ too." Said Matt. "Un fucking believable...." Sighed Scott. Scott was getting close and pretty soon; you could tell he wanted to cum. Matt just smiled, as Scott fired his hot wad into Mike's sucking throat. At the same time, he came all over Mike's face. Both studs finished up, and pulled away from Mike. "Oh man, that was fucking great..." said Scott. "MMMhh, yeah, he is pretty good at sucking cock.." offered Matt. "Hey cunt, get up and strip. I want Scott to check out your new do.." laughed Matt. Mike slowly got up and started to take his clothes off. Mike's cum was dripping down his face. "Hey fuck face, don't let that cum go to waste, eat it!" ordered Matt. Mike dutifully took his fingers and brought each drop to his lips and sucked his hands clean. After he was done, he continued to strip. When he was completely naked, Matt told him to show Scott his new "no pubes" look. Mike was pretty embarrassed by it, but did as he was told. Mike's dick was hard as hell, but he knew he couldn't jerk off or anything. "Where's your cock ring?" asked Matt. Mike got his pants and pulled it out of his pocket and then held it up for Scott to see. "Here, give it to me." Ordered Matt. Matt took the ring and then approached Mike and snapped it around the base of Mike's dick. He rubbed his hands along Mike's smooth dick and balls. Then he grabbed Mike's balls and looking him in the eye, started to squeeze them. Mike just winched as Matt tightened his grip. "You like that cunt?" he asked. "Yes" Mike replied quietly. "You a pussy boy?" asked Matt. "Yes" replied Mike. Matt squeezed harder. "What?" he asked. Mike winched from the pain and then said: "Yes, I am a pussy boy. I love to suck cock and be fucked by studs, sir.." he replied with more conviction in his voice. Matt smiled and released Mike's balls. "How do you like his nipple ring?" Matt asked Scott. "Cool man, I never realized the dude was so queer." Said Scott. "Dude loves servicing hot cocks man, just like my older bro." Said Matt. "No shit?" asked Scott. "Don't ya cunt?" he hissed at Mike. "Yes sir." Said Mike. "Hey, where's your dildo man?" asked Matt. "UMMHH, I dunno.." said Mike. Matt went to Mike and slapped him hard a few times. "Go fucking find it, I think it might be in the jeep." Mike ran down the stairs and into the driveway naked, to get the dildo that was in the jeep. Scott and Matt watched and laughed from the window. "This is fucking incredible man..." said Scott. "I think you're going to find out that Mickey is quiet a fag, and that you can do anything you want with him. He is pretty good at fucking too. You might be able to pimp him out for parties and stuff, we do that with Billy.." said Matt. "Get on the bed, and show Scott how u fuck your pussy dude!" ordered Matt. Mike lay on the bed, and immediately stuck the dildo in his boy pussy. He slowly started to grind himself into it. And as he was doing it, he started to moan. Scott and Matt just watched him fucking himself. "Hey Mike, want the real thing?" asked Scott. "Yeah, fuck me man..." he squealed. Scott quickly stripped out of his clothes, and positioned his hardening cock at Mike's pussy. Mike looked up at the stud, that was before his buddy, and then opened his hole to Scott's dick. As Scott sunk into Mike's hole, he let out a long sigh. Matt just watched from the side, and smiled. He had enjoyed turning Billy into a slut boy, and he really had fun with Brian, turning Mike into one too. He liked the looks of Scott fucking his former bud. Now he was fucking his own pussy boy. Matt took out his cock and walked over to the bed, and started to rub his dripping dick all over Mike's face. He got it hard and jacked off on Mike's face as Scott fucked him. Mike's cockring, prevented him from cumming, and you could see that he was horny as hell. When both studs were done, Matt said: "don't worry about him, he don't need to cum, unless you want him to. They all sucked better horned up anyway. Besides it way funny to keep em on edge, ya know.." laughed Matt. Scott laughed too as they looked at the former studs hard cock, sticking up, and dripping. "Well, dude, I gotta go man..." said Matt. "Have fun with your new boy toy, and hey man, keep in touch.." said Matt as he and Scott shook hands and Matt left. Scott waved to Matt as he drove away, and then smiling, went back upstairs to see his bud......... Mean while, I had cleaned the room, and done the washing, and was pretty tired. I fell asleep shortly after 8, and feel into a deep sleep. Matt came back to town, and went to see Karen. As usual, he fucked her several times, and they had a good time. By the time he was done it was almost 1100. He came in and slapped me awake. "get over here." He ordered. I groggily got up and went over to him. He was standing there, undressing. When he was naked, he made me kneel and lick Karen's cunt juice off of his cock. He got hard, naturally, and forcefully pumped another load of hot jizz into my throat. I knelt there waiting for him to tell me what to do. "Go to the bathroom, and get the Ben Gay." He ordered. "Oh no, please Matt, not that." I moaned. He slapped me around, and I got up to get the stuff. I came back, and he ordered me to stand in front of him. He squirted some ben gay in his hands, and then told me to jerk off for him. Fuck did it burn. I was having a hard time staying hard, but finally I got used to it. "Cum in your hand" he told me. As I got close, he smiled, and then I arched my back, and came like he wanted me to. I caught it all. "Eat it!" he ordered. I put my hand to my mouth and sucked my own jizz down my throat. Course my cock and balls were burning from the ben gay. "Get me my belt." He ordered. I got his belt. "Lay over my knee." He commanded. I did that and felt him give me 10 hard whacks with his belt. I had tears rolling down my face. Matt took the ben gay, and spread a liberal amount all over my ass. Oh my God, it was so hot. I kept crying. He pushed me off of his lap, and he laughed at me. "You are such a cunt!" he laughed. "I can't believe that you're my brother!" I just lay on the floor whimpering. "Get to bed cunt." He ordered. He rolled over and fell asleep. It took me about 2 hours to fall asleep because of the ben gay and spanking. I couldn't believe how cruel my bro was to me. But then I thought a lot about it and decided that I must somehow deserve it..........

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Date: Fri, 20 Sep 2002 14:26:08 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: Little Brothers Sex Slave, Part 22 The next day I woke up so exhausted. I could barely get out of bed. Course, Matt had me suck him off before I could get into the bathroom. Only good thing was he didn't give me any fucking drugs for breakfast! I felt OK after my shower, but my hole and the ben gay still kinda hurt. I didn't even have time to jerk off myself, and Matt told me not to anyway. Sometimes, I wondered why he hated me so much. I got to school pretty much on time. A couple of the guys that I had sucked off were in the school parking lot, and as I passed, they made gestures and grabbed their crotches. They taunted me to come on over and "suck em off." I just took off as fast as I could. Another kid smirked at me near my locker. Someone had written "FAG" on the outside of it. I couldn't get it off, so I hurried to my first class. Another dude I sucked off was in my first class, and he came over to me and sat right in back of me. He kept whispering in my ear shit like: "hey fag, wanna chow on my cock?" and "Come on Billy, I need it bad dude." Some of the other dudes could hear him, and they smiled, and kept looking at me. I was so embarrassed; I didn't know what to do. Then class finally ended. I rushed out into the hall before the dude could catch up. I was almost running towards my next class, when BOOM, someone stuck his foot out and I tripped and fell on my face. Fuck it was Matt!! "What's the hurry fag?" he asked. "Nothing Matt, I'm just late that's all." I lied. Matt was with Brian, and they smiled at each other. "Meet us behind the gym after next period." Instructed Matt. "But Matt, I gotta be at gym then." I protested. Matt grabbed me and pulled me close his face. "Be there fag, or else!" he spit at me, and then pushed me down again. I knew I better not try to escape, or he would be really pissed. I got up and slowly moved off toward my next class. Matt and Brian were laughing as I slowly walked away. Naturally, there were several people standing around watching and I'm sure listening. God, why was this happening to me? I was just trying to stay out of trouble, but Matt and Brian seemed to go out of their way to humiliate me. So, after the next class I had gym anyway, I hurried to the back of the gym. As I turned the corner, there was Matt, Brian, and some other young jock. "Oh fuck," I thought. "Get over here fag." Ordered Brian. I hurried over to where they were standing. "This is Jason, the youngest dude on our soccer team." Said Matt, as he nodded at the young dude. I looked at him and said: "Hi." He smirked at me. Brian was standing next to me and he had his arm around me and then reached down and grabbed my cock bulge. "Hmmm, feels a little tight in there fag, why don't you get your lil dick out man, and show Jason?" he said. "Aw, come on Brian, I don't wanna do this." I protested. "Who cares what you want?" barked Matt. "Get your fucking prick out, NOW!" I slowly unzipped my jeans and pulled my cock out. I felt so stupid showing my cock to some 14 year old. "Fuck, I thought you were kidding me." He said to Matt. "No man, he's really my slave. He does anything I tell him to, right fag?" he smirked. "Yes..." was all I could say. "Pull those jeans all the way down." Ordered Brian. So I did that. Jason smirked and laughed. Naturally, I started to bone up. "Kneel here and give Jason a blow job." Ordered Matt. I looked at him and then knelt in front of him. I could see a nice cock bulge in his jeans. I was embarrassed to have to do this to a 14-year-old dude, even though he was pretty hot. You could tell he was bulking up from his sports and stuff. Since Jason made no effort to unzip his jeans, I reach up and got his zipper pulled down. I fished around in his jeans, and pulled out his cock. God, it was about 4 1/2" long, and cut, and really nice looking. Jason just let me get it out. When it was out, it started to bone up. I opened my mouth and immediately put it in my mouth. Jason let out a moan, as he pumped my face. Matt and Brian just smiled at each other. Jason put his hands on my head, and started to ram my face. "He's pretty good, huh?" asked Matt. "fuck yeah.....hot mouth" said Jason. "When you're ready, just jizz his mouth man." Offered Brian. I just knelt there letting this hot young stud face fuck me. I couldn't do anything else. Course my own bone gave me away. Fuck I loved it. It didn't take Jason long, he started to tighten up and then BAM he flooded my mouth with hot boy juice. God he came forever. Some of it came out the sides of my mouth. Finally he was done, and pulled his cock out. "How's it taste?" Brian asked me. "Good." Was all I could say. "That's good, cuz, since Jason is on the team with me, I told him he could use your mouth when ever he needs to. You know how us jocks need to dump several loads of cum a day..." Brian smirked. "So from now on, I want you to obey him, as you would me, or any other team members, got it?" he demands. "Yes, Matt, I understand." I stammered. "Don't ever let me hear about you letting him down..." Matt threatened. I just looked down. "Better hurry and get to gym. You're late." Brian said. I went to pull up my pants. They made me button my jeans and leave my dick out. I had to run into the gym like that. As I was running around the corner, I could hear them laughing at me. I was so embarrassed. A lot of the time during gym, the coach would have one of the seniors on the teams teach the class and he would be gone. Because the time was about coffee time, we usually had a senior teaching our class. I was late getting dressed and getting out to the floor. As I rushed out, he called me aside. I recognized him as one of the dudes at the party the other night. "Jim, take Billy into the showers..." he smirked at me. Jim came over and grabbed my arm, and we left the floor and went to the locker room. He marched me over to my locker and made me strip. He looked at my shaved pubes and crotch and shook his head and smiled. "Fucking incredible." Was all he mumbled. "Get into the showers and wait for me." He ordered. I moved off to the shower. A few minutes latter, he came in. I didn't know what he wanted me to do. "Get over here." He pointed to the floor in front of him. He was a hot dude, and he was hard too. I knew what was coming. I knelt on the floor in front of him. "Open up fag." He ordered. I opened my mouth and he rammed his hard cock right in. He pumped me for something like 5 minutes. He was rough and kept slapping my head as he fucked my face. Finally, he tensed up and shot a huge load of boy sperm into my mouth. "AAAHHH.....yeah bitch..." he moaned as he finished up. By then, some other guys were coming into the showers. He made me get up and wash his body. The other guys just looked and smiled. I felt so stupid, washing the body of the jock boy. Course, my cock was hard too. After all, I guess I love being abused like this. And naturally, they wouldn't let me touch it. They all laughed and told me it was good to be horned up like I was. When we finished in the shower, Jim walked me back to my locker and handed me my jock and told me to put it on. I looked at it and then at him. It was full of jizz!!! They had all the guys in class jerk off into the pouch. It was all wet with tons of boy cum. "Please Jim, this jock is dirty.." I protested. "What!!.... that's only jock cum dude, nothing dirty about it!" he exclaimed. "But, I can't wear this." I protested. "Sure you can dude, put it on." He ordered. "But..." I added. He reached over and slapped my face. "PUT IT ON!!" He ordered. I slowly put the jock on and could feel the now cold cum encasing my shaved cock. "ooowww " I moaned. Jim smiled and laughed as he grabbed my crotch and got the wet cum all nice and rubbed in. "Yeah, that's better fag!" he said. I felt to dirty and smelly as I got dressed and moved off to my next class. As I left the gym, all the guys were laughing at me. I was so embarrassed the rest of the day. My crotch itched from the cum, and I could smell it. I wasn't sure what to do about it, but I had to work, so I figured maybe I could wash up at the restaurant. I got to work after school, and reported to Joe. He smelled and scoffed at how bad I smelled. Course he knew what had happened. "Fag...You fucking stink man.... We can't let you work the counter smelling like jizz!" he said. "Well, I was going to wash up, but I didn't have a chance." I meekly offered. He shook his head. "You are pitiful man." He said. I hung my head. I hated this fucking place, and I hated Joe especially. He was such an ass hole. He assigned me to sweep up the parking lots, and clean the trash area. I just went off to do that stuff, glad that I didn't have to be near the guy. About an hour before quitting time, Joe called me into the office. The manager was there. "Strip." He ordered. "But Joe...." I protested. "What a fucking ass hole....Strip dude. I want you bare ass naked, NOW!" he barked. I looked at the manager, and he just starred at me with a stupid grin. I slowly started to undress. When I got to my jock strap, it was all sticky and stuck to my cock and balls. Both of them laughed as I peeled it off. "See, what did I tell ya. The whole gym class jerked off in his jock, and we made him wear it." Laughed Joe. Joe started to peel off his shirt and pants. "get over here, under my desk." Ordered the manager. I saw that his pants were open and his cock was hard. I started to protest, but Joe slapped my head a few times. Pretty soon, I was on my knees. "Suck his cock." Ordered Joe. I opened my mouth and his hard dick slid in. I started to suck. Then I heard Joe jump up on his desk, and he grabbed the manager's head and forced it on his own hard boy cock. "Oh yeah, man, suck that cock!" he sighed. As I sucked the manager's dick, Joe face fucked him. Pretty soon, he tensed up and shot his load, Joe into the manager's mouth, and the manager into my mouth. When he was done, I was told to get dressed and get out. I did and drove home. I was glad to be out of there for the day. By the time, I got home, dinner was over. My mom had saved some for me, and I ate in the kitchen. After I was done, my dad told me to come into the living room, he wanted to talk to me. "I understand from Matt, that you have a new boyfriend." He said sternly. "Huh?" was all I could say. I didn't know what Matt had pulled now. "And I don't like those earrings either" he yelled. "But dad..." I started to protest. "Never mind..." he barked. "Bill, you are such a disappointment to your mother and I. We have tried to do the right thing for you and Matt, and you continue to screw up!" "But..." I protested. "And now, Matt tells us that you are horsing around with you co-workers at McDonalds. I thought that having you work would help you gain some self-respect, and some work ethic. I can see now that that is not going to happen." He lectured. How could I tell him that Matt had set all this up? "Matt has told me that the team needs an equipment manager. He spoke to coach, and they have agreed to let you do that job. Maybe being around your brother and his friends will help straighten you out. After all, he's a normal boy." He said. "But dad..." I protested. "No William, its all set, I don't want to hear any excuses." He said. And then dismissed me. I slowly went downstairs to the room. Matt was working on the computer. "Hey fag, get over here. I need my cock cleaned off from fucking Karen." He said casually. "Strip first, though." He ordered. I stripped and moved over to him. I knelt in front of him, and unzipped his jeans and fished out his boycock. I moved to lick his cock clean. Matt looked down at me with disgust and a real smirk. "Yeahhhh fag......that's good.......

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brains-over-brawn/brains-over-brawn-5.html

Brains Over Brawn, Ch. 5 Disclaimer and Legal Stuff: Don't read this if you're not supposed to, either because you live in a regressive community or you don't like erotic stories about gay sex (in which case, why are you here?). If you distribute this story, that's fine, just don't edit it and leave my name on it. Thanks. Brains Over Brawn Chapter 5 By MaineBoyXY@aol.com I came to with a start. My mind was immediately filled with what had happened. Ryan had made me suck him and take his cock up the ass, and he'd manipulated me into doing it in front of my friends. My team mates. People I knew from school. The horror washed over me, and I felt the tears welling up. Instinctively, I raised my hand to my eyes, and then I remembered that I had been handcuffed but now I was unrestrained. I sat up. Dried cum covered my upper body. Ryan was working at his desk. He was still naked. And hard. Catching my movement out of the corner of his eye, he looked over at me. "Hey, welcome back," he said. It was tone he might use to greet a friend at an airport -- slightly pleasant and not up to his usual asshole standards. It didn't affect my mood. "Why?! Why the fuck did you do that to me?!?" I demanded. Anger was quickly catching up to grief for my lost dignity. "Do what? Fuck you in front of a party full of your friends? I didn't. All I did was ask what you'd think if I had. I guess we both know the answer now, don't we? It got you so fucking hot you shot for almost two minutes and it made you pass out." I was shocked. "What? You didn't film me? But I saw the light..." "Oh, I did film you. But I didn't give Russ an IP address to my webcam. The film is for me." He grinned smugly. "The commentary was for you. It's like the guy in the porn shop. He didn't really know who you were, I just set it up so that you thought he did. That, by the way, was pretty much a test for the whole fuck scene. I wanted to see how humiliation turned you on." "You fucking pervert!" I shouted. "The guy in the porn shop knows who the fuck I am now, doesn't he! And what the hell are you going to do with the film you made of me?!" His face soured. "Oh, grow up, Alex. You don't think guys in porn shops know the people who buy from them? He doesn't run a shop based on blackmail, he doesn't track down his customers and threaten to tell their mommy. And, I told you, the film is for me. But the way you're acting, maybe I ought to pass it around." I stared at him. There was no hope I'd ever figure out how his mind worked. It's like he abused me and expected me to thank him for it. I thought about getting up and beating the crap out of him. He stared right back at me, and I saw his hand move. I watched it as its fingers wrapped around the hard cock poking up from his lap. He slowly began to stroke it, his eyes never leaving mine, my eyes never leaving his cock. I watched his hand move, and it was like the stereotypical pocket watch in the hands of a hypnotist. I felt my pulse quicken and my cock stir. I looked up at him, and met his half-hooded gaze. There was something about the way his eyelids relaxed when he was horny that made his face seem completely raunchy. When the look combined with his arrogant smirk, the one creeping across his face as he took in the signs of my growing lust, it was like an aphrodisiac. "I came in your ass, but you had passed out, Alex," he taunted. He lightly bit his lower lip between his teeth and started rocking his hips up and down in the desk chair while he rubbed his fingertips along the underside of his erect dick. "I could do it again now that you're awake, if you want." I drew in a ragged breath as my eyes wandered from his face down his scrawny torso to his cock and back up. I could feel my cock throbbing again. "Come here," he invited. "Let me show you this movie. I'll even let you sit in my lap." I stared at his cock, and I realized my mouth was watering. I swallowed deliberately. I felt myself stand like a zombie or a sleepwalker and seconds I was standing at his side. He maintained his observation of my facial reactions as I moved to him, and my attention never left his crotch. I could see the gleam of precum on the tip of his head as he continued to caress himself lightly. Under my gaze, a pearl bubbled up through its lips and I subconsciously licked my lips. "Do you want to taste it, Alex?" I nodded; he smiled. "You want to taste my cum?" I nodded again. "What?" he coaxed. "I want to taste your cum, Sir," I said mechanically. He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me until I was standing, facing the computer, between his knees as he sat in the chair. He slipped two fingers into my hole and I released a hoarse sigh. His fingers rotated around inside my ass, and I felt them massaging just inside me. He would slide them in and out about an inch and spread them out, using his fingertips to probe every fold of my rectum. After a few minutes, I could feel precum oozing out of my own cock, and I felt him gently pull my hips back with the other hand. He slipped his fingers free just as his cock head lined up to my hole, and then using both hands, he guided me down onto it. The cum from his previous load, which he had smeared over my ass lips while he fingered me, helped lubricate his entry. I threw my head back and moaned, closing my eyes, while he continued lowering me until I sat on his thighs and his cock was buried deep inside me. I shuddered, then felt his fingers at my mouth. "Taste my cum, Alex," he whispered softly as he rested his fingers, cum-slicked from my ass, on my tongue. I closed my mouth and began to suck and lick his two fingers like I had learned to suck his cock. I kept mouthing them even after the last trace of cum had been slurped down. With his other hand, Ryan clicked a few buttons on the computer's mouse and I heard the opening dialog of our return to his bedroom earlier that evening. "Do you want me to fuck you, Alex?" the computer asked. "Oh, God yes," I whispered over my recorded reply. I opened my eyes and looked at the monitor. Ryan withdrew his hand and placed one on each of my hips. He leaned over to watch the movie with me from behind, and I found myself slowly rocking up and down on his cock, no more than two inches up before sitting back down on his lap. I watched myself lying on Ryan's bed, shaved, cuffed, straddled, his balls in my mouth, the action of my suction and tongue work clear as my cheeks hollowed and jaw moved. The quality of the recording was impeccable; no one who saw it would have any doubt as to the identities of the players or the actions they were performing. As Ryan on-screen plucked his scrotum from my mouth, Ryan behind me had become satisfied with the slow pace with which I was fucking myself up and down on his rod. His hands left my hips and began lightly stroking up my tummy to my abs, and up further over my pecs. As his image began fucking my face, and the speakers replayed my gagging, the forefinger and thumb of each hand clamped onto the tips of my nipples. I cried out and began writhing on his cock, losing my relaxed rhythm. Ryan behind me grunted like a rutting beast and started rocking his own hips under my squirming ass. When the monitor displayed Ryan resuming his familiar short-strokes in my mouth, he released my nipples and, grabbing my shoulders, pulled me back tightly against his chest. His hips were thrusting hard now, and I was rocking up and down a good four or five inches. Each trip down to his lap would rake his cock along that spot in my ass, right behind the root of my cock. "Oh, Jesus Christ," I whimpered. "What the hell is that?" "It's your prostate," he gutturally replied, never losing his stroke. "Oh, God, it feels so fucking good!" A short cry burst past my larynx each time his cock hit that spot. I quickened my pace and had shortened my rise and fall so that his cock only slipped in and out an inch -- so that each stroke rammed back and forth over my prostate. One of my hands was fisting my cock and the other tightly clutched my balls, like I was afraid they'd fall off or disappear inside my abdomen forever. Ryan grabbed my wrists, and again with strength that would have surprised me if I'd cared to think about it, pulled my hands away. Holding mine, he wrapped his own hands around my chest so that we both embraced my torso. Sweat poured from my brow and covered my chest and legs, my thighs and calves burned with the effort of continuously impaling my ass on his shaft. We watched him fuck me, I heard him ask me those mind-fucking questions about Russ. "...watch my bedroom on my webcam?" the computer asked. I saw my panic, I heard my primative scream, I watched in disbelief as my cock on-screen erupted with jet after jet of semen, shots hitting my face, my chest, and leaving a practically unbroken line of slime from my left eye to my navel. I felt my balls boil; no one was touching them. I felt my cock spasm; no one was stroking it. As I watched myself lose consciousness on the monitor as Ryan's recorded laugh echoed, I began to shoot. I felt every muscle in my body clench, but somehow I forced myself to continue my fucking and to keep my eyes on the screen. Within seconds of my blackout, I saw Ryan's asschecks tighten on-screen and heard him yell lustfully through a gaping mouth. His thrusting never stopped, not on camera, not under my ass. As I watched him fuck out an orgasm as long as my own, I felt his cum spurting into me. My own orgasm, in real-time, was milking his cock as my asshole clamped and quivered around his shaft; as I continued to fuck his knob against my prostate, his spunk was oozing out between my ass lips. I don't know how long we came, long after the movie had stopped on the computer. I know that at some point, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto Ryan's lap. He rested his head on my shoulder behind me, and I could tell by the wetness of his hair that he had been working as hard as I had. We were panting to catch our breath when I felt him kissing along the back of my neck and shoulders. I turned my head and, straining, our mouths met. His tongue passed between my lips, and I welcomed it. When he broke the kiss and pulled back, he was staring into my face, his eyes searching mine just as he had the previous night, after our first fuck. I don't know what he saw there, but he smiled softly, void of any arrogance or condescension. It was a warm smile, and then he turned his head and rested his chin on my shoulder as we settled back in the chair, his softening cock still rooted in my ass, both our arms loosely wrapped around me, and, exhausted, we fell asleep.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder-17

Date: Sun, 11 Aug 2024 18:58:26 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone <bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com> Subject: Training a Himbo Bodybuilder - Chapter 17 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER --CHAPTER 17 Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2024 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. The Coach uses Joey's stupidity to take advantage of him sexually, forbidding the boy to have an orgasm without permission, eventually putting him cock into a chastity cage. The naïve dumb boy just obeys his trainer knowing that, with his guidance, he will achieve his dream to become a professional bodybuilder and model. In this chapter, Joey moves in with the Coach and gives all the control to him, including all his finances. He is made to believe that the more sperm he takes inside of himself, the bigger muscle he will gain. Joey now, willingly, lets any alpha male that the coach decides, to put his cum into his holes. The coach forbids the boy to orgasm and makes sure that Joey is loaded with drugs to keep him in a dazed horny reality. Now, all he can think about is muscle and cum, muscle and cum.... The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: I apologize for the long delay. Real life is tough and this is just fantasy. As my readers know, I enjoy writing about the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have a new email address: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please read ALL my stories and write to me and share your thoughts. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 17 After Joey's first big win, he became very well known in the bodybuilding world. Word got out about his "accident" on stage and people, mostly men, wanted to meet him in person. His coach owned a gym and took full advantage of making Joey the "poster boy" of his gym. He was told to leave his regular job at UPS and break up with his girlfriend so he could devote himself to his bodybuilding career. At the gym, membership increased and the coach would put Joey on full display at the front desk, greeting people in his tiny spandex gym shorts and cropped stringer tank top that barely covered his huge pecs. Nipples fully exposed. Joey believed that the Coach was fully responsible for his success and devoted himself to the man. He followed the Coach around the gym like a little puppy looking for a treat. Joey knew there were rules to follow and was happy to abide by them without question. Coach trained him hard each day for hours, giving him almost daily injections of drugs. He made sure that Joey was drugged with a combination of steroids and sexual stimulants. He was given pills and injections daily of steroids, protein supplements, some dopamine to keep him obedient and, of course, Viagra. He was kept in his skimpy sweaty used attire which was usually soaked with sweat. After his workout, there was no shower and Joey's body odor filled the room. He was moved to the front desk where he was placed on a chair with a 6" dildo attached. Joey would remain impaled on the dildo as he would sign-in clients and talk with admirers as they came to workout. Joey would get so horny that other workers would notice him casually grinding on the dildo with his head down like he was getting fucked. "Ohhhhhh fuck," Joey would say softly as he sat down deeper on the plastic cock. Coach thought it was best to put him back in chastity so he wouldn't worry about the boy having an accident and "losing his hormone". There were others rules now too. Joey was not allowed to make decisions for himself and would ask Coach for basic necessities like using the bathroom or eating. Joey didn't have a clue that he was being turned into a horny submissive slut bottom boy. Coach had made him a winner now and he simply learned to obey his rules if he would continue to succeed. He knew he was not allowed to cum for fear of losing his testosterone. Because of this, all he could think about was cock but, of course, never mentioned it because he wasn't allowed to speak without being asked a direct question, either by the coach or an admirer. The coach instructed Joey to allow anyone that asks him to feel his body and to touch any part of him, including his ass, nipples or genitals. Joey knew he was being observed by the coach's staff so he obediently followed the orders. Men would sign in and walk around the desk to feel Joey's ass. Joey had no reaction and didn't move as he felt fingers searching for his hole. He felt a hand push him forward so he would come off the dildo and stick out his ass to allow better access. Joey would answer the phone and sign members into the club while he felt his plug being pulled out and fingers pushing into his hole. Sometimes men from the Hormone Club would actually push their cock into his "faggot pussy" as they would call it. Joey tried to hold still and remain calm as he was being fucked behind the front desk. He knew he loved being fucked now but also that he should hold his own orgasm off. When he got close to his anal orgasm, Joey would pull off the cock to prevent from cumming. This would usually anger the man fucking him for denying his advances and the fucking would soon turn into rape. Joey loved it of course and only hoped his rapist would cum soon so he would be able to hold back his own cum. Once, the Coach came to the desk during one of Joey's rape. Without being to loud, he would lean down into Joey's ear and say "Be good faggot for the man and you better not cum boy or you'll regret it." Usually, after several rapes and several men, Joey would become numb to the sex and almost ignore being fucked as he worked. At the end of each day, the boy was paddled and spanked until he was sobbing to keep him "humble" and as a reminder of his submissive place with the Coach. His chastity cage never came off during this time. Joey's ass was made especially available to any member of the Hormone club, who would usually would pay a small fee for several "rounds" with the stupid boy. Joey thought that the more cum he absorbed, the more muscle he would gain so he gladly opened his mouth and pussy to anyone who wanted to dump a load in him. Some men began physically abusing him because they knew he was strong and could take a good pounding. It was very hot that such a huge muscle man was mentally stupid and would verbally abuse him as well. Verbal abuse was encouraged by the coach to "keep his mind in the right place." "Don't be selfish with a real man," Coach would say, "only focus on his pleasure. Do it their way, no matter what it is, without complaint. Some men will do things very perverted with you but you must not react in any way. Always say THANK YOU and, If they like you, they will come back for more... and more again. This will give you more essential sperm for your bodybuilding. These men don't need to know why you like getting fucked but that will remain our little secret." "You know, now, that cum equals muscle so you want as much cum inside you as possible. Most important, again, is that you do not cum yourself at all. I will decide when you need to release some pressure in your balls. I will milk you when needed." "Yes Coach," Joey agreed, "thank you Coach. Im gonna take in so much cum that my muscle will be huge." "Atta boy," Coach Doyle smiled to himself. Everything had now fallen into place. Joey was sufficiently brainwashed into becoming a true whore, thinking it was for the good of his modeling career. "Now go out to the front desk and make sure members know that you are a faggot so they give you their cum. Don't forget this is our little secret boy." Coach instructed, "Bend over to show them your ass as much as you can to entice them, do you understand? "Yes Sir," Joey said, "Just pretend I'm tying my shoes or something." "Exactly boy," Coach laughed as he patted his ass, "I will meet you in the gym after you get a few cum loads inside you." Joey prepared himself at the free racks to do dead lifts, hoping to attract alpha bodybuilders by showing them his ass through the sheer spandex. By the time he started his first set, Cliff was standing behind him. "Need a spot faggot?", the alpha said as he pressed his crotch into Joey ass. Joey tried to finish his last rep but Cliff held him down, keeping him in a bent over position. Joey remained still, with the weights pressing down on him. He was not supposed to deny anyone. Suddenly, he felt the man behind him press his fingers into his stretched shorts and rip them open. Without any prep, Cliff pulled aside the boy's g-string and pushed his cock into Joey's hole. In the middle of the floor, Joey was going to get his first load of protein. He stayed still, to not attract attention, but the weights seemed to be getting heavier, pressing him down. Just as Joey was going to collapse, another bodybuilder stood in front of him, hooked his arms under the bar and took the weight off the boy. Joey was still bent over and now looking directly at the alpha's crotch in front of him. He could see a hard bulging cock stretching though his gym shorts. While still holding the bar on the rack, the bodybuilder in front of him pulled aside his shorts to free his throbbing cock. Joey knew what to do to get his second load of cum. Some other men circled around them, pulling out their cock, while others simply continued their normal workout as though nothing unusual was happening at all. Joey eventually took 5 loads during his "workout". The coach secretly watched the action admitting to himself that his plan was working perfectly. He would use Joey for his new marketing campaign for his gym empire. Joey would be discreetly fucked at the gym on a daily basis and members would be allowed to watch or even join in with an additional fee. He made the gym MEN ONLY after that day. As months passed membership sky rocketed at the gym but it was still not enough for Coach Doyle. Daily workouts for hours and added steroids made Joey huge. He won his second championship, which qualified him to go Pro. His dreams were coming a reality and he believed he owed everything to his Coach. Now that Joey would never disobey him, the coach makes him sign a contract making Coach Doyle his professional manager. All his bodybuilding and modeling money would be put into an account that would be managed by him, controlling Joey sexually and financially. The best way to make money from his new muscle himbo was turning him into a sexual whore, an escort, an essentially a male prostitute. Joey believes this is just another way to increase his testosterone levels and happily obeys the coach. He is now being marketed online as an escort for men and the coach begins videotaping all his sessions for his new ONLYFANS account. Coach now wants Joey to live with him full time so men could come and go at any time of day. The coach thought it would be best if Joey stayed in a separate room for his clients. Unknown to Joey, he would load the boy with drugs, making him more agitated and horny because he could never have his own orgasm. Joey would wander through out the night as a result of these drugs, so the coach has him sleeping in a cage, "for his own safety". He told Joey that he needed to conserve energy and not more around too much so the cage was essential. This would limit his movement and, Joey thought, help him to conserve energy for his bodybuilding and his clients, so he agreed to sleep inside his cage. In reality, Joey was becoming a caged animal. Full of hormones that were trapped inside his balls and unable to have sexual release. He would sleep inside the cage overnight, with his pussy plugged and in chastity. Sometimes, if Joey moaned too loud during the night, the coach would gag him with a small cock plug in his mouth. His nipples would be clamped and attached to the side of the cage so Joey couldn't move around to much. His father, Frank, was also given instructions on how to train the boy when he was visting at home. Frank was told to keep him plugged, in chastity and nipples clamped while he helped his father with chores around the house. The coach wanted the boy collared to "help his posture" while working. In the evening, the boy was told to clean his father's feet, armpits, asshole and balls each night before his evening injections. Joey wanted his father's cum desperately but would never ask for it. That was too "slutty" and the coach said, "A good boy will simply allow the alpha to use his holes whenever they desire and not be selfish by asking for it." The Coach said asshole cleaning was also now a part of his training in case there was an alpha that wanted to use him. After being fucked, the boy would push any cum from his pussy, like the coach called it, and eat as much as possible. The rest would, of course, be naturally absorbed. After an hour of allowing for "absorption" the boy would have to clean his pussy hole to be ready for the next cock injection. Joey was thrilled to have unlimited amount of sperm and was convinced that is why he is a champion. Coach put him in a bodybuilding poser suit that had minimal coverage. It was basically a thong with a pouch that was so small, the audience could almost see the base of his cock shaft. Joey would be consistently leaking precum from never being allowed to empty his balls. They were so full that semen would leak out, dripping into his tiny pouch. By now, Joey was so full of steroids, viagra and synthetic dopamine that he almost seemed like a mindless drooling animal as he grunted through his posing routine. His body odor was intense because the Coach only allowed limited showers. By the end of his workout, he was dripping sweat and smelled like a sewer. His fellow bodybuilders knew about Joey's training rules, which made the boy free meat to feel, smell and lick. Joey knew to allow any man fondle him if he wanted to. They would actually rub his jock pouch, which only made things worse for Joey on stage. His cock would be throbbing and barely contained in the micro pouch. One day, Coach called the boy into his office in the middle of one of his workouts. It concerned Joey because the Coach never did this before. "I have a new client at the gym," the coach said, "one that needs some special treatment. He saw your last competition and is interested in you accompanying him to a fundraising event." The boy hung his tongue out of his mouth, signaling to the coach that he wanted to speak. He was taught this technique after learning that he was never allowed to speak unless specifically asked a question. "Good boy," Coach said as he patted his head like a dog. "You may speak." "I don't understand Coach," the boy said, "what will I have to do?" "Why don't you come here boy." The coach said as he sat back on his sofa and pulled Joey down to his hands and knees by his hair. Coach wanted to make sure the boy knew his place on his knees, between the coach's legs. "Take out my cock and let it soak in your mouth while I explain. Don't speak." The coach waited for Joey to swallow his cock head until he began to speak. "First of all faggot," Coach paused, "you remember you are a faggot, right?" Joey nodded as kept his mouth stuffed with cock. "Good faggot," Coach continued, "You will escort him to a fundraiser for a Gay Foundation that he created. That doesn't mean you are gay, even though you are a faggot, do you understand?" Joey bowed his head and nodded even though he didn't have a clue what that meant. He just knew he should agree. "He needs a model." Coach said. Joey looked up quickly and showed excitement like a dog. If he had a tail, he would be wagging it. "Yes boy, we are going to make you a famous model, just like you have wanted. You have worked hard for this opportunity but there is one more thing we need to do to make sure you understand your place with these men." Joey looked up with his tongue hanging out like a dog. Again, that was the signal. "Yes faggot," Coach acknowledged him. "Coach," Joey said, "I will do whatever you say. I really want to become a famous model Sir." The coach slapped Joey's face and pulled him back onto his cock. "You don't need to stop sucking to tell me something I already know." Joey sucked. "This could be your big break into the biz faggot. The important thing to remember is to do whatever you are told to do. Men know what is best for you so you follow their rules. The best thing is to clear your mind and give your body to whoever wants to look, feel and use it." Joey seemed to be more interested in sucking now than what the coach was saying. "That's a good faggot." Coach groaned as he leaned back and put his feet on Joey's back, pressing him downward onto his cock. "There is also some paper work you need to sign before we move forward with this boy." Coach said as Joey looked up at him while sucking. "Ahhhh, you look so pretty like that fag, looking up at your superior while servicing his cock. Such a good boy." "Now, let me just give you some hormone now, would you like that faggot?" "Yethhhhhh IR," Joey tried to speak with his mouth stuffed with cock. "After you drink my sperm, we will sign those papers and put you to bed." The coach started thrusting into Joey's mouth. It wasn't long before he was on the edge of cumming. He had trained the boy to relax his throat and gag reflex so he could go in deep on every thrust. "Ahhh, fuck yeah, good boy," Coach groaned as he rutted into the boy's throat, "just open that throat and let me fuck it deep faggot." Joey's eyes were watering and he had a hard time breathing but tried to relax and let the coach use his throat. "Cumminggggggggg, fuuuuuuuck fuckkk fuckkkk." On every word, Joey felt a squirt of delicious cum in his throat. He realized that was the best feeling of all, being the source of pleasure for a superior male, was giving him the cum that he desperately wanted. After the Coach settled down, he allowed the boy to take off his chastity cage. He wanted the boy to masturbate in front of him. He turned around and bent over, showing Joey his hairy ass. "I want you to play with your faggot cock while you smell and lick my sweaty man hole." Coach ordered. Joey was delighted to actually touch his own cock. He instantly got hard. "I said you can masturbate but you are not allowed to cum faggot." Coach ordered. "Make love to my asslips and French kiss them. I want you to think about how my ass stinks and how much you love licking up all my ass juice." Joey was moaning as he masturbated his cock while listening to the dirty talk and feasting on the coach's ass. He was throbbing hard and had to stop playing with himself several times. He knew he wasn't allowed to actually cum... only rub it. Regardless, Joey loved every minute of it. With his hard cock bouncing with anticipation of orgasm, the coach pulled him by the hair to the table where he saw the papers. "Do you want to cum boy?" Coach asked sarcastically "Please yes Coach," Joey groaned while still holding his cock. It was dripping pre on the floor. "You be a good boy and sign these papers and I might let you cum faggot." Coach led the boy to the desk and told him to lean over on his elbows. He stopped playing with himself and looked at the papers. "What do they say Coach?" Joey asked as he wiggled his ass back and forth, purposely exposing his hole. was frantically jerking off and only seemed to focus on his own potential orgasm. "You will make me you're power of attorney, that's all." Coach said, "I will make you a great escort, ahhhh model, for rich men. Clients will pay me and I will pay you. I will transfer all your assets into our special accounts. That's how all professional clients work in this biz boy." In reality, the contract says that the Coach is Joey's next-of-kin and beneficiary of his estate, eliminating his own father. All of Joey's assets, now and in the future, will go directly to the Coach. "I think you need something inside your hole, don't you boy?" Coach asked as his fingers played with Joey's pussy. The boy moaned, not really focusing on the papers at all. "You seem like you need to cum boy." "Oh yes Sir," Joey moaned as he dropped his head. The Coach rubbed his exposed cock. "Ohhh, thank you Coach" Joey felt the Coach also push one finger into his pussy hole. "You know that faggot cock of yours will never fuck again, don't you boy?" Joey lifted his head to listen. "If I think you need to cum," he said, "Your cock will be milked. Only rubbed by an alpha's hand, like this. You should focus on your hole and learn to cum by taking a cock inside that pussy." The Coach was now fucking the boy with two fingers. Joey was delirious with the need to cum. The coach was only gently touching the boy's cock with his finger tips now. Joey was humping into the Coach's finger to get more stimulation. "No no boy," Coach slapped his ass. "Focus back here and hold your pussy still and don't move so I can fuck you with my fingers." "Oh Coach," Joey had his head down, moaning, and ignored the papers on the desktop. "Doesn't that feel so good faggot?" Coach asked sarcastically as he used his hands on the boy's crotch. Joey's balls were so full of sperm that he could no longer think straight. He didn't care about anything except his need to cum and release the pressure. "Sign boy," Coach ordered. Joey looked up at the papers again. "If you love how this feels," he said, "imagine having this feeling everyday boy. I will take good care of you. I will decide things for you so you don't have to think. Don't think about anything except cock boy. Big beautiful cock that holds the sperm you need to grow bigger. Just sign the papers." "Can I cum Sir, please Coach, let me cum" Joey was drooling now. The Coach put the pen in the boy's hand and slid the papers under his face. "Sign and I will let you cum boy." That is all Joey needed. He wanted to cum at any cost now. He was sweating on the papers as he signed them. "Atta boy faggot." Coach said, "now you belong to me. You will do as I say, how and when I say, from now on. You earned that cum boy because you are obedient to your new owner." He pumped three fingers into Joey's rectum as fast as he could. With his other hand, he grabbed the boy's cock at the base and around his balls. He was careful to not touch the shaft of his cock. He wiggled his cock in the air from the base as he fucked his pussy hard with his fingers. "Cum boy." He said Joey grabbed the desk and lifted his ass higher into the air. He needed this cum bad. He wanted this cum bad. He couldn't focus on his cock because there was no stimulation there, so pushed his ass back against the fingers fucking it and dreamt of cumming. IT happened. Finally, his cum shot out of his cock and onto the floor beneath him. "awwwwwwwww, fuckkkkkkkkk" Joey yelled. "Thank you Coach. FUCKKKKKK" As the boy calmed down, the coach allowed him to slide down to the floor so he could lick up his dirty cum. "Lick up that cum and listen to me boy." Coach said as he sat down facing the boy on the floor. His legs were spread open to keep the boy focused on his groin. "It is in your best interest to take as much cum as possible. That should be your focus now. Pumping iron, eating, resting, taking all your medications I give you and, most important, taking as much male sperm as you can." The Coach continued as he pulled Joey's face into his balls. "Keep licking faggot." Coach said. "I will take care of everything for you now. I will pay for everything and escort you to your modeling jobs and competitions. Any earnings you make will basically pay for my services and the costs of feeding and drugging you. Once you go Pro, steroids will be pumped into you daily, and that is also expensive." "Let me ask you a question boy." Coach said as he pulled Joey's face back and out of his crotch. "DO you want this boy?" Coach asked and Joey nodded immediately. He didn't have to think about it. He loved the success he has become and felt that he owed everything to the Coach now. "Say it faggot," Coach smiled, "Do you want this?." "Oh yes Sir," Joey said, "Im gonna be the famous model I always wanted to be. Yes Sir, I want this." "Good boy, good faggot." Coach said. ---TO be continued--- READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. My Uncles Farm Trained by my Step Dad The Coach's Assistant Becoming the Team Coxswain My StepDad Knows Best (Gay and Bisexual) Trucker's Boy My stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas. I have only ONE more final chapter to write here and have already started another story. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I will always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. ` Please email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I will answer ALL emails. Thanks guys.

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Date: Sat, 24 Nov 2001 20:53:10 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little Brothers Sex Slave, Part 4 As I got out of my clothes, he also stripped. As I looked at him, I realized that I really liked the way he was treating me. I couldn't explain it, but as much as I hated what he did to me, I also loved the way he treated me. By the time I was naked, I was hard. He looked at me and smiled. He removed his boxers, and his beautiful 7" cock sprang forward. "Knees..." he ordered. I got on my knees. I closed my eyes, ready for him to do me. "No dude, open your eyes, and look at my cock..." he ordered. "I want you to see you what you want." He said. I opened my eyes and did look at him. I gotta admit he was fucking awesome. He was so hot and put together. 'Open up" he said. I did and he slid his cock into my mouth. "Oh yeah, dude, sweet." He moaned. "Taste Karen?" he asked. "I fucked her about an hour ago.." he commented. He pulled out of my mouth. "Yeah, I guess I can..." I admitted. "Probably the only taste of pussy you ever had, huh?" he chided. "Yeah.." I said in a resigned tone. "Taste good?" he asked. "Yeh...." I admitted. He slides his cock back into my mouth. "Yeah, she's a hot fuck. Got her cherry ya know, last year. Now I can hardly keep her off my cock dude." He said. By now, his cock was all wet with my mouth and her pussy juice. Of course, I knew that he fucked Karen. She was one of the cheerleaders, and I knew he fucked her, a lot. She was hot too. If you liked girls, man, she was hot. "She don't suck cock as good as you do big bro....So don't worry, you'll have lots to take care of." He chided. "You know, I think her little brother was watching us tonight. I caught him, he likes to watch me pork his sister. Only 12, but I think the dude is a peeping Tom. Cool, Huh?" he asked. "Maybe he wants to suck me.... what do ya think?" he asked me. I looked up at him, as if to say, I dunno. He smiled and pumped into me a little harder. Pulling my head closer to his pubes. "Yep, lots of chicks to fuck, and mouths to have suck me!!" he said. "Gotta keeps us jocks happy!" he said. He pumped me more. I could feel his cock get harder. He moaned and started to shoot. Then he pulled off of me. And shot his load all over my face. He was smiling at me. "Yeah, looking good bro.... Cum face.... Awesome" he said. He rubbed his hard cock all around my face, rubbing the cum in. "I like you like that.." he said. "Stay there fag..." he ordered. He went over to the closet and got out the cord from a bathrobe. "Put your hands behind your back dude." He ordered. I did and he tied my hands. "OK, stand up." He ordered. I stood there, cum on my face, hard cock sticking out. He went to the bathroom and got something. "OK fag, get over here." He ordered. He laid my across his lap. "Please don't slap me anymore Matt." I said. "Aw man, come one, I'm not gonna slap you." He said. "MMMHHH, nice and red though..." he said. I could feel him squeeze some of the tube out and then wow. It was Ben Gay. Fuck it started to sting. All over my red and hurting ass. He rubbed it in. "Please matt, don't...." I begged. I was sooo hurting. "Dude, I want you to feel better...." He said as he massaged my hurting ass. "Little jock rub ought to make you feel better, don't ya think?" he asked. "Please matt, it stings...." I said. "Fuck man, suck it up.... its gonna be better in no time." He smiled. He squeezed a little more ben-gay on me and then popped his finger into my ass. All I could do was squirm. ""OOOHHH, matt, please....." I begged. My hole was burning. He fingered me some more. "Brian said, that this was going to make you crazy....what ya think??" he asked. "Brian??" I asked. "How does Brian know about his?" I asked. "Dude, Brian is my bud....I think him everything, he tells me everything." He smirked. "Ooh man, please..... I'm beggin ya Matt, don't do this to me." I started to cry "Fuck fag boy, Brian can't wait to have you wrap your sucking lips around his cock. His is a little thicker than mine. You're gonna love it" he said. "Oh man, please don't do this to me..." I begged. "But dude, you're loving it. Look at your cock man." He responded. "Bet your hard thinking of sucking Brian, huh??" he asked. "OOOOWWWW, man. Please...." I begged. "Fuck dude, youre gonna love it.....I know..." he said. I was so hurting now, and so turned on. My cock was dripping precum all over the place. The sting of the ben gay, and the thought of Matt's buddy knowing everything. The punishment my dad had imposed on me. My face covered with Matt's teen jizz. It was all so overwhelming. I moaned softly. "Tell ya what big bro..." said Matt. "I'm gonna jerk you off man....You think you might like that?" he asked. "Yeah, matt, please, I gotta cum man...." I answered softly. "I know dude, I know...." He said, mockingly. He flipped me over on my back, but still across his knees. He got more ben-gay and squeezed it on my cock. "OOOHHH Fuck...." I moaned. "Yeah.....cool, ain't it?" he smirked. "Oh Matt, please man, don't do this to me." I begged. He rubbed his hands all over my dick and balls. It stung like crazy, but I stayed hard. He slowly jerked me. Very slowly. Just when I thought he might speed up, he would stop and ask me questions. "You wanna suck Bri?" he asked. "Yeh, yeah, matt, I do, please." I begged. "You really like sucking cock, huh?" he asked. "Yeah, Matt, I love it." I admitted. "You like the taste of cum?" He asked. "Yeah, I love it." I admitted. He jerked me some more, till I was going crazy with lust. "Please man, make me cum..." I begged. "Sure big bro, but first you gotta agree to be a good cocksucker....You know, do what youre told and stuff. After all, I don't wanna have to go to Dad anymore. I want you to be the good little fag that I know you are." He chided. "OK, yeah, I'll be good....." I pleaded. He jerked me a little more. "You sure?" he asked. "Matt, please, yeah, I'll do whatever you tell me.....just please let me cum." I begged. I knew I was being degraded and tortured, but I needed to make him happy in order to cum. I just had to. "Yeah, I though so...." He said as he jerked me more. As I got closer, he slides me down a little so that my head was down, and then he expertly let my cock shoot. I shot right on my own face!! He held it a little tight, and then let the second shot go. It landed right across my mouth. "Suck you cum big bro..." he said. "MMMMhhh, I moaned." As I stuck out my tongue and got some of my own jizz. I shot again, and again. I shot 5 squirts of teen cum. It was all on my face. "See how good that was..." he chided. "Admit it..." he ordered. "Yeah, It was good matt...." I admitted. "Good. Well, glad you see things clearly now dude. Man, I'm tired. All that fucking and stuff got me worn out." He said. He laid me on my bed and went to get into his. "Aren't you gonna untie me matt?" I asked. "Naw, I don't want you to wipe off that cum man. I like the look of you with jizz all over your face. I think it would be good for you to keep it there tonight." He said. "OH man, please...." I begged. "No, besides you gotta get up early to get the bus in the morning..." he said. Then he shut off the light and went to sleep. I spend the most unbearable night. I had ben gay on my hot ass and in my hole. I had cum on my face and hair. Cum dripping down my face. I felt like the cunt boy my younger brother was turning me into. The next morning, I woke up and realized I was still tied up. I got out of bed and walked over to Matt. I tried to nudge him to wake him up. "Matt...wake up man" I whispered. He budges a little and opened his eyes. "What?" he asked. "Untie me please, I gotta get to school." I said. He looked up at me with a big grin on his face. "Don't ya want breakfast first fag?" he asked. "Come on man, I'm gonna be late......." I begged "Then you better get sucking!" he commanded. He threw back his covers and his half hard cock was sticking up. I figured, it was no use, I was going to have to do it, and so I might as well get going on it. I leaned over and started to suck his cock. He got hard fast. He just lay there, letting me suck his cock. It only took a minute or two for him to fill my mouth with his sweet teen cum. He moaned as he unloaded into my mouth. "God, this is fucking great...I love this," he said with a smile. He untied me and I hurried to the bathroom to get ready for school. I rushed out and got to the bus stop just in time. A couple of the kids were wondering why I was on the bus, but I convinced them that my car was broken down. School sucked, as usual. I couldn't wait to get home. I got the bus and then walked the rest of the way home. As I walked up the driveway, I saw Matt's jeep was there. Oh fuck, I thought, now I gotta put up with him for the afternoon. I walked in and went downstairs. There was Matt and Brian, huddled over him computer. They looked up and Brian broke out in a big grin. "Hey, fag boy..." he smirked. I knew I was now going to be in for it. "Hey fag, come over here and see our new computer project." Commanded Matt. I walked over to his desk and looked at his computer. "Holy shit!" I said. "where did you get those pictures?" I asked. "What, you mean you didn't see my new web cam?" said Matt. "Brian loaned it to me." He smirked. They clicked through many stills of me, sucking Matt, sucking Alan, being fucked by Alan, jerking off, with cum on my face. I was so embarrassed. Then they ran some of movies of me. They even had audio. I didn't know what to do. "Oh Matt, you wouldn't do this. Please man, I'm beggin ya..." I begged. Matt looked at Brian and they both started to laugh. "All depends on you big bro, all depends on you..." said Matt with a smirk on his face. "Yeah...depends on you fag," added Brian. "Aw come on guys, you can't.........please" I begged. "Wanna bet..." said Brian. I hung my head, knowing that I was totally at their mercy. Stay tuned for the next chapter... Email me your thoughts. Billy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-16

Date: Mon, 29 Apr 2002 23:00:15 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: brothers sex slave, part 16 Brother's Sex Slave part 16 Brian let Mike sleep for a while. Meanwhile he planned his next deal with Mike. He decided he needed to have the little stud shave his own crotch. He gets a tape and recorded a message and looped it, over and over. "It is so cool to shave your crotch. Pubes are so dirty man, gotta get rid of em. Shave your crotch man, shave it." After he recorded it, he slipped the headphones on Mike, and started the tape. He smiled as he watched the drugged up stud. Fucking excellent, he thought. He moved the cam to the bathroom and set up things in there. He got another of the gay tapes, and checked it out for the shaving scene he knew was there. He found it pretty fast and got the tape ready. Then he got another "cocktail" for Mike. He brought it in, and then leaned down and got the phones off of him. He had been listening for about 1/2 hour. He slapped Mike and woke him up. "Dude....wake up man." Said Brian. Mike grunted and groaned. "OOOOWWw, man....." he moaned. Brian handed him the drink. "Here man, drink this, it will help ya wake up!" he said. Mike started to drink the glass Brian gave him. It did kinda bring him around a bit. Mike stared at Brian. "How ya feeling man?" asked Brian. "Fucked up man.." answered Mike. "Let's watch another video, you'll feel better after...." Said Brian. "Yeah, OK." Answered Mike. Of course, Brian had the tape all ready where he wanted it to start. It showed a hot young man in the shower. He was soaping up and playing with his cock. Then he lathered up and started to shave his crotch, stomach, chest, legs, and ass. "Whoa, man, look at that.." said Brian. "Yeah..." moaned Mike. "It's very good to be clean like that, don't ya think?" asked Brian. "I don't know man, I'm so confused..." said Mike in a low voice. "Dude, it's the best thing, all the dudes do it man..." said Brian smiling. "I guess it might be good," said Mike dreamily. "Very clean man, very good thing.." whispered Brian. "Yeah, clean..." said Mike. Brian just watched as Mike watched the scene, and watched the dude shaving off his crotch hair. The dude was obviously enjoying what he was doing, and had that lust look on his face. Brian leaned in close to Mike and whispered in his ear..."Dude, you gotta get that crotch of yours cleaned up man. All your buds will be clean and you won't..." "yeah.." said Mike in a monotone voice. "Come on, let me help you into the bathroom, and you can take care of it, OK?" whispered Brian. "Yeah, thanks, Bri.." replied Mike. Brian help Mike get up and they moved to the bathroom. Mike was definitely feeling no pain from all the drugs he was on now. He was simply putty in Brian's evil hands! They got to the bathroom, and Mike had a semi hard on. Brian, of course, was also getting boned. He was really getting off on having this stud doing whatever he wanted him to. "Come on, dude, let's get that nasty hair off of your cock and balls man!" whispered Brian in Mike's ear. "Yeah, I'm ready." Said Mike, dreamily. Brian positioned Mike so he was facing the cam, which of course he couldn't really see. He got the stuff and gave it to Mike. "Use the clippers man, and get most of the hair off man..." coached Brian. Mike took the clippers and turned em on. He moved them to his crotch and stopped, thinking about what he was doing. "Yeah, do it man, get rid of that nasty crotch hair!" said Brian. Mike did it. He pulled the buzzing clippers threw his crotch hair. He went all around his dick and balls, and clipped it all off. Brian was smiling widely as Mike's hair fell away. "Yeah, that's it man, get it all" said Brian. "Yeah, let's get rid of this hair..." said Mike. After he had done that, Brian handed him the shaving cream and razor. "Time to clean it up for good." Coached Brian. "Yeah..." said Mike. Mike lathered his crotch and balls, and then started to swipe the razor threw the cream. He cleaned his entire crotch off. Then got his balls. He went up to his abs and down to his legs. "How about your ass man, gotta get that cleaned off too." Said Brian. Mike lathered up his ass and bent over trying to clean his hair off of his ass too. He got most of it. "Yeah, I know you feel better.." said Brian. "Yeah, it is much better." Said Mike. Of course all of this gave Mike a huge bone, even though he probably shot 6 loads of hot teen juice since morning. Brian smiled; he saw that the record light was still lit on the camcorder. "Makes you wanna jerk off huh dude?" asked Brian. "Oh yeah, fuck, so hot man...." Said Mike dreamily. "Yeah, dude, stroke it a little man, get it real hard.." coached Brian. Mike reached down and grabbed his cock and started to stroke it. Precum was leaking out of the slit. "Hey dude, have some of that pre man, remember how good it tasted." Said Brian. "Oh yeah..." moaned Mike, as he got some pre on his fingers and then put it to his mouth. "Excellent....tastes really good huh?" asked Brian. "MMMHHH" moaned Mike as he continued to stroke it. Brian was getting primo fucking pics of the stud jacking and moaning like a fucking cum slut, he was turning Mike into. He loved it. His own cock was tenting his jeans, but he knew that his time would come latter. "Man, remember how good this is man. You love jacking like this right?" asked Brian. "Yeah.....love it.." moaned Mike. "Think of your buddy Scott man, think of how hot the dude is....you want him bad, right?" said Brian. "Oh yeah, man, way hot.." moaned Mike. Mike stroked his cock and it got real big ready to shoot. "Catch that hot jizz in your hand dude, and then lick it up....jizz is so good man.." said Brian. "yeah....love jizz..." said Mike. Just then, his cock exploded in a huge flood of teen spunk... Mike caught it in his hand and moaned like crazy. He shuttered as he shot his load. "Eat it man, you know you love it..." coached Brian. Mike looked at his hand, and then put it to his mouth. He slurped his jizz from his hand....moaning as he did it. "Yeah man, lick those fingers..." said Brian. Mike did it. He has jizz on his lips and some on his face, and licked his fingers clean. "Sweet dude....cum is so excellent. You can never get enough.." said Brian. "yeah, I love it ..." said Mike. "And now that you're so clean down there, you feel soo sexy, right man??" asked Brian. "Yeah, feels good." Said Mike. Brian brought Mike back to the living room. They sat down. Mike was so tired from the drugs and sex. "Man, I'm beat..." he said to Brian. "Yeah, why not take a little nap.." suggested Brian. Within a minute of two, Mike's eyes closed and he was asleep. Brian used the opportunity to put another tape in and put the headphones on Mike. It was a loop, reinforcing Mike's love of jizz and of cock, and the fact that he loved his new "nude" look. Brian smiled as he went to get the cam from the bathroom. When he got back, he got his digital cam, and took several shots of Mike and his shaved crotch. He got some nice close-ups of the dude's face that still had some jizz on it. He let Mike sleep for about half and hour. He mixed up some more drugs and got Mike up. "Here dude, drink this man." He shoved the glass under his nose. Mike drank the mix. He started to come around. He was wobbly and couldn't stand up. Brian smiled. "Wanna watch some more movie man?" asked Brian. "Yeah, sure, let's watch a movie...." Mumbled Mike. Brian popped one of the hot bondage tapes into the VCR, and started it up. Mike was awake and just stared at the screen. Of course Brian used the opportunity to reinforce Mike's new role in life. "Fuckin hot man...." Said Brian in Mike's ear. "Oh yeah, way hot..." mumbled Mike. Mike was boned up again. "Wow, look at that..." whispered Brian. "Oh man, fuck..." mumbled Mike. "That is soo kewl, you should try it man....it's gotta be fucking awesome!" said Brian. "Yeah, awesome", replied the drugged up stud boy. "Fuck, look at that dude suck that cock.." said Brian. "Yeah..." replied Mike. "Look how much he likes it man....no, he fucking loves it...don't you wanna try that on Scott??" questioned Brian. "Well....I dunno.." stammered Mike. "Sure you do Mike....just think how awesome it would feel to have a nice hot cock in your mouth man....think of the sweet cum you could get....you loved it before..." suggested Brian. "well, maybe..." said Mike. "Yeah, it's gotta be just excellent. Maybe you should try it out on me?" asked Brian. "Oh man....I'm sure man....I just don't know..." protested Mike. "Dude, you know you love hot cock man.. You even love your own cum...and you know you want to suck off Scott when you get home. You gotta practice to be sure you know the right way to suck him, right?" asked Brian. "Yeah, I guess so....oh man.." said the drugged Mike. "Hey look at that dude getting fucked man." Said Brian. "He looks like he loves it man. Look at his face. Man, is that lust or what?? And look at his hard cock...Fuck, he's soo horned up!" said Brian. "mmmhhh..." replied Mike. They watched more of the tape. It just got hotter and hotter. And of course, Brian had given Mike enough Viagra to keep him boned and horny for hours. Mike's hard cock was dripping precum like crazy. And Brian had Mike eating it from his fingers. He was really enjoying turning Mike into a fag. The scene on the tape was the dude getting fucked and sucking at the same time. Brian used it to reinforce Mike's new desires. "Wow man, look at that!" he said. "He's really helping his buds out now...They love it....and so does he..." said Brian. "man....wow..." was all Mike could say. "Hey Mike, I know you wanna try this stuff before you do it for Scott. Wanna suck me and Matt off and get fucked before you leave man?" he asked. "Oh man...." He sighed. "Sure ya do man....look at how horned you are...I'm sure you're gonna love it man. I can tell. Be honest man, you wanna do this don't ya?" chided Brian. "Yeah, I guess, maybe" stammered the confused Mike. "You sure man, you look confused dude?" said Brian. "Well, I just don't know Bri...I just don't know..." said Mike. "What's the problem man....couple of buds helping each other out, some nice hard cock, lots of cum...you love cum don't ya??" chided Brian. "Well, yeah, I guess I do..." replied Mike. "Tell ya what man...you can suck me off first and like check it out...if you like it, maybe we can bring Matt into it, how's that?" asked Brian. "Uhm, yeah, I guess that would be cool..." said Mike. Brian just smiled....

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-23

Date: Sat, 12 Oct 2002 14:04:15 +0000 From: Billy Boy <hotboybilly45@hotmail.com> Subject: little brothers sex slave part 23 I glanced up at my younger bro......hot stud that he was.....hard cock sticking up....oh fuck.....I opened my mouth. He smiled as my mouth clamped on his teen bone. I didn't wanna, but I did moan as he grabbed my head and rammed his cock all the way in............Fuck, he could be so damn ruff with me. But I guess, deep down, I was loving it. I sucked and licked his cock. And I could taste Karen. I knew he fucked her this afternoon. "So, did Dad talk to ya?" he asked. I pulled off of his cock and answered: "Yes, he told me I was going to be the equipment manager for the team." "Yeah, kewl huh?" he asked. "Well, I'm glad to be done with McDonalds' that's fer sure, but I didn't know about this job." I said. "Yeah, well, some of the guys talked to me about how good you were at the party, and so we decided to create a job for you, so we could have you handy in the afternoons and at games and stuff." He said. "Have me handy?" I asked. "Don't be stupid Billy. You know you love sucking hot jock cocks. This way, you'll be close when we need quick blow jobs and stuff." He smirked. I looked at him and nodded. "And you know how us jocks need to blow a couple of loads a day, so it should work out good, don't ya think?" He asked. "What do you mean?" I asked. " You are so fucking stupid!!! Jocks need to be aggressive dude. We need to kick ass, especially when we're in competition. It's good to have a cock sucker to be aggressive with, you know, slap around, DOMINATE, fuck with!!!" he said. "Sometimes, our chicks don't wanna put out, especially when we demand oral sex from em. This way, we can fuck the chicks and have you suck our cocks...the best of both worlds!" he smirked again. "Yeah.....but...." I stammered. "Yeah but nothing fag boi....You know that you love this stuff....look at you....total fag....ready to suck anyone, just like Mike.." he laughed. "Yeah, I had him pegged early man!" he sighed. "Besides man, there are men like me and my buds that need to be aggressive, need the power of our cocks, need the control over fags like you that we got....and then there are the fags like you, that need control, and cock to suck." Of course, during this conversation, I was licking and sucking my younger brothers hard teen cock. Point made I guess. "Now look fag....I don't ever wanna hear that you denied any of my jock buds. Even young Jason...." He smirked. "How'd you like his cool little dick?" he queried. "UMM, it was good, I guess. Not too big or anything.." I stammered. "You like his jizz?" he pressed. "UM, sure, it was good..." I offered. "Yeah, I'm sure you love all jock jizz, don't ya?" he asked. "Yeah, I guess I do." I felt kinda ashamed. "Fuck sure ya dude bro, sure you do." He said as he pumped my face a little harder. He continued to pump me some more, and then pulled out and told me: "I'm gonna cream your face Billy. Jerk me when I get close." He ordered. I continued to suck him and then he pulled out. I grabbed his cock and jerked it all over my face. He moaned as he shot his sperm in my face. "OOOHHH Fuck Yeah!!" he shouted. Cum was flying from his dick. I was sooo boned, I almost shot my load. I was dripping precum all over the floor. I looked at his hot young face as his bone spewed on me. I gotta admit, he looked fucking hot. Eyes half closed and a real hot look on his face. Man, my bro could be sooo sexy. "When was the last time you shot bro?" Matt asked me. "A while ago..." I replied. Matt was being uncharactoristically kind to me. "Wanna cum?" he asked with a devilish grin on his face. "Yeah..." was all I could reply. "Get your handcuffs out." He ordered. I went to my dresser and got them and walked over to Matt and handed them to him. I knew my life was in his hands. He took em, smiled, and snapped em on me. He then moved me to the bed, and then laid me on my back. Course, I was horned up, after all, he did that to me.... Then he slid me off the bed, so I was like upside down, with my cock above my face. Now I knew, he was going to jerk me off, right onto my own face! He put a pillow under my head and neck so I wasn't too uncomfortable. He smiled, as he took one finger and slowly rubbed it around my cockhead. He got the whole thing all fucking wet. "You like that Billy?" he asked. "Ooowww, yeah Matt, please don't stop.." I moaned. But fuck!!! He did stop. He got up and went to the computer. He was doing something, and I didn't see him move the cam over to where it could pick me up. Then he went to the dresser, and got Brian's fucking dildo out. "Hey bro, I think it will be better for you if we use this." He smirked as he held it up for me to see. He knelt near me and then made me lick the dildo to get it nice and wet. Then he started to force it into my ass, err, rather, my pussy hole. I loosened up and let it slip in. Course my own little prick was sooo hard and dripping. He started to fuck me with it. I started to leak like mad. He reached down and rubbed the precum all around my cock, slowly, sooo slowly, making me crazy. He didn't want me to cum too quickly that's fer sure. "So fag, you like this?" he asked. "Oowww fuck Matt, please do it harder man.....I'm so horned up." I begged. "Tell me how bad you need cock fag.." he ordered. "Please man, I need cock so bad...I love cock...need it...." I pleaded. I knew that I would have to humiliate myself in order to cum and I was so hot!! "ooowwww matt, pleaaseee..." I begged. He rubbed his slick hand around my bone. I moaned. He pumped it a little He pushed the dildo in and out of my pussy. "Yeah, fag boy, fuck that rubber cock!" he ordered. I tried to fuck it a little more, pushing back onto it. He chuckled. He kept bringing me to the edge and backing off. My dick was hard, horned, and dripping precum. He kept slowly, oh so fucking slowly jerking me off. Course I just looked up at my own dick, right above my face, wishing I could fucking suck that thing off to relieve my pressure. Course Matt wanted to control it. Fuck, he controlled everything. FUCK HIM!!! I needed it so bad. "Please Matt, please....." I begged. I wiggled, I squirmed, I tried to move on his hand when he held my cock. I just needed it so bad. He smiled. "Yeah dude....it is true....you are so fucking hot when your horned!" he taunted. "I think I wanna keep you on edge like this man." He smirked. "nooo, please don't matt, please...." I moaned and begged. He knew I was almost crazy with lust. He stroked me a little more. I was almost in tears. I was almost there!! He pulled the dildo out and rammed it back. I felt it on my prostrate. I moaned more as he stroked me one more time. I opened my mouth. "please matt, please...." I begged. He smiled and then stroked me one more time. It happened. My cock just shot a huge load on my face. It came out with such force, I almost passed out. I moaned. He stroked me again and pointed my cock at my mouth. The next four shots landed right in my sucking mouth. Fuck, I wanted it so bad....it tasted great. I moaned with lust. Thank god, he finally stroked me off, on my own face, but at least he had enough compassion to let me jizz! When he was done, he made me swallow what landed in my mouth. He rubbed the cum that on my face, around (yeah, typical). He also made me lick his fingers clean. He got me off the floor and made me kneel. He picked up the phone and called Brian. "So dude, you get that all?" he asked. He laughed. "Yeah, the fag loved it alright." He said. I felt so used and embarrassed. I forgot that he had that dam cam going. Apparently Brian had seen the whole thing. "Yeah, latter dude." Said Matt as he hung up. "Will you please take these cuffs off of me Matt?" I asked. He looked at me and laughed. "No." he replied. He got up and went to the bathroom. He came back with that fucking Ben Gay!! "Naw, big bro....time for a ben gay treatment. We don't want you itching at all." He laughed as he made me stand in front of him. He put a huge amount of ben gay on his hands and started to rub in my hairless crotch and balls, he even got some in my pussy hole. I moaned and begged him, but he just did it anyway. He smirked and laughed. Yeah, Matt's hard ass, arrogant, dominating self was back!!!!

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder-16

Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2024 03:58:47 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone Subject: Training a Himbo Bodybuilder- CHAPTER 16 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER --CHAPTER 16 Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2024 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. The Coach uses Joey's stupidity to take advantage of him sexually, forbidding the boy to have an orgasm without permission, eventually putting him cock into a chastity cage. The naïve dumb boy just obeys his trainer knowing that, with his guidance, he will achieve his dream to become a professional bodybuilder and model. In this chapter, Joey understands that he has to be a faggot now in order to get the testosterone needed to win his bodybuilding contest. After losing his first competition, his coach realizes, in this chapter, that Joey has other talents. He makes a plan, with a "talent agent" for Joey to not only become a bodybuilding star but porn star as well. The boy has learned to be submissive and obedient with the coach keeping him dazed with drugs and loaded with sperm. The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: I apologize for the long delay and promise to write more often. There will be sex in every chapter but some more extreme than others. I enjoy writing about the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have a new email address: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please read ALL my stories and write to me and share your thoughts. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 16 The big day had arrived and Joey was prepared and ready to wow the audience with his new, unbeatable, posing routine. With the help of the therapist, the coach had trained Joey to cum on demand. This ability would only be used while he was posing on the bodybuilding stage in hopes of getting all the judges to vote in his favor, gaining popularity, and win the title. All of this was to use Joey as a new marketing campaign for the Coach's growing gym empire. He solicited the help of Mr. Kolby, an agent in the porn industry, who discovered Joey during his first competition. Every bodybuilder was huge. Every bodybuilder was ripped to shreds. Joey, however, now with a huge pumped cock stuffed inside a tiny pink posing suit, had trained to go beyond normal bodybuilding limits. The therapist had brainwashed the boy to show off his bulging, throbbing cock whenever possible. Joey wanted people to stare at him now and would expose himself, discreetly, where ever the coach told him too. People stared at the boy where ever he went and Joey loved the attention. "The most important thing to remember boy," the coach as he worked him in the gym, "is to not be selfish. Your purpose to take as much cum inside of you as possible, without losing your own. The secret is cum. This is our secret, you know that right?" "Yes Coach," Joey said as he pushed out the reps on the chest machine. "If you let men know you are a faggot, they won't think twice about giving you their cum. The more cum you take, the bigger muscle you will gain. It's a win-win scenario boy." The Coach continued to work Joey in the gym daily. He would edge the boy's cock dozens of times before allowing him to cum. He trained him shoot his sperm on command, without ever touching it. It was a new skill that the coach hoped would guarantee a first place win. The boy had no idea why the coach was doing this to him but knew he must obey him for his own good. Yes, Joey made mistakes. After being injected with steroids, dopamine and sexual stimulants, Joey would become uncontrollably horny. If he stained the posers, the coach would inspect him to see if he only dripped seminal fluid or if he actually had an orgasm. If an orgasm spontaneously occurred, Joey would be punished of course. Usually he was spanked in the locker room in front of the members of the Hormone Club. "What the (spank) fuck faggot!" Coach would yell, "how (spank) many times (spank) do I need (spank) to remind you (spank, spank) about the fuckin rules." The other men masturbated as they watched Joey cry as his ass turned red. "Oh Sir," Joey cried, "I'm sorry but I really couldn't hold it Coach." "Shut him up Cliff." Coach said as he continued spanking the naughty boy. Cliff instantly took off his sweaty jock and pushed it into Joey's mouth. The boy knew he could only cum when given permission, so most of the time, he would have an erection stretching his small posers and dripping precum into the this poser. This would usually force the material up into his ass crack, exposing most of his ass. The coach would usually finger fuck his hole in between the spanks to keep the boy sexually stimulated. After he was properly spanked, he was told to stand facing the corner of the office until he calmed down. One by one, each man watching would walk up behind him and push their cock into his bruised ass. "Don't move faggot." Coach ordered. Joey was still sobbing as he tried to hold himself still against the wall as each man stood behind him. They were so horny from watching the spanking that they simply pushed their black cocks up inside Joey's pussy in one big shove. Joey knew to remain as quiet as possible but couldn't stop crying from the pain. The stupid boy didn't understand anything and just wanted to cum. He was told that cum would give him bigger muscle and that was reason enough to remain still, or even stick his ass outward, to help the men deposit their hormone into his faggot pussy. After being loaded with bodybuilder cum, Joey remained standing as he felt the sperm dripping down his legs. "Fuck boy," Coach slapped his ass again as Joey yelped. "You're wasting that cum," he yelled, "Close that pussy and hold that cum inside, boy, our I'll make you lick it off the floor." Joey couldn't help but lose some of the sperm and knew he would have to lick the floor clean. Eventually, the coach angrily shoved a thick butt plug into his pussy to keep the cum inside of him. Joey was happy to be plugged now, thinking this would help him to absorb the hormone and gain bigger muscle. ---- So now, after weeks of preparation, Joey was backstage preparing for his second, and most important, competition. He had to win this. Dozens of huge muscle men were getting their final pump before walking out on the stage. The room smelled like sweat, piss and musky body odor as they were crowded into the small space before the show. The competition organizers decided to do a final pose routine comparison for the top 5 competitors. When Joey's name was called, the coach quickly pulled him into the men's room and inserted the 4" butt plug into his pussy. He also wrapped a cock ring around his cock and balls to keep his genitals swollen. Coach wanted the boy to get all the attention on stage and this was the way to do it. His cock looked huge and swollen. Joey was stupidly proud to show it off. Joey walked out on the stage for the finale to huge applause, wearing only his tiny pink posers. The suit was now becoming slightly see-thru because of his constant sweating throughout the day. His swollen cock was now clearly visible under the material and pushed the suit so far forward that you could almost see the top of his cock shaft as it laid sideways across his hip. He couldn't push it down as normal so he let the cock just throb naturally, stretching the tiny posers to its limit. The throbbing pressure inside his tiny suit only made him more horny. The other bodybuilders walked onto the stage and formed a line to do the required poses. Joey looked bigger than ever with huge ripped muscle and smallest pink posing suit gave him all the attention. Everything seemed like a normal contest until the head judge told the bodybuilders to freely pose for the final comparison. Almost instantly, Joey felt the vibrator in his ass. He jumped to the center of the stage and started grinding his pelvis as he flexed. The bodybuilders moved toward Joey because they knew he had the attention of the judges. They began posing right next to each other. Their bodies seem to literally begin to rub against each other. It got worse for Joey. He felt the cock ring around his already swollen erection began to vibrate. Joey audibly moaned as he felt himself enter into his world of sexual bliss. His cock bounced and almost popped out of his posers, with the head of his cock now visible out the top of his tiny gstring. The crowd watching the sexual display was almost silent. They were in awe of these men who seemed to be so close to each other that they were rubbing crotches and asses against each other. Joey actually felt one man behind him who was humping his cock bulge into the boy's ass. Joey knew what was going to happen. He was to far gone to control himself. The steroid injections, dopamine and the Viagra made it impossible for the him to control his own cock. He loved to flex and show off too as he went from pose to pose with his cock dripping with precum. The coach was standing in the front row smiling at his boy. "Atta boy," he said loudly, "flex that muscle and show these punks how a real bodybuilder cums." "Cums?" Did the coach actually say CUM? "FLEX and let yourself go boy! CUM boy!" The coach said as he increased the vibrations in his ass and cock ring. "Go to the center of the stage and cum boy!" Joey knew, from his training, what he must do now. He was so hard and so horny as he wobbled to the center of the stage. While holding a double bicep pose, he grinded his pelvis in circular motions to increase the friction against his throbbing cock. That is all he needed. As he was trained and wanted to wait for permission again, so he held very still holding the bicep pose as he felt himself losing his sperm. "Cum boy!" He heard the Coach. He closed his eyes for a second to feel the sperm traveling from his balls into his cock shaft. Suddenly, he began to shake. He tried to maintain his flex as his orgasm took over. He filled his sheer pink pouch with cum. His cock bounced as it shot several volleys that also squirt out of the top of his posers and onto the floor. Joey was unaware of anything at the moment because it had been over a week since his last orgasm. He was in his own mind and enjoying the blissful moment. "Ahhhhhh..... fuckkkkkkkk" Joey moaned quietly. The audience, however, was very aware of everything happening. Suddenly, they became very quiet as they watched the bodybuilder actually having an orgasm in front of them. As soon as Joey finished his cum, his coach ran backstage and waited for him to return. Joey wobbled toward him and the coach put his arm around him to help stabilize the exhausted boy. "You need to stay focused boy." Coach told him as he almost collapsed. "Coach, ohhhhh my ass Coach.... Please." Joey was still being vibrated. The coach looked at Joey's father and nodded. The vibrations stopped and Joey did collapse in the Coach's arms. Coach slapped him. "Get up boy," he said, "its time to collect your trophy boy." Joey perked up when he heard that. There was some dripping cum leaking out of his poser. The coach used his hand to scoop up the cum and pushed it into Joey's mouth as quickly as he could. He smeared the rest of the cum all around the poser pouch making it almost completely sheer now. His cock still gently pulsing in post-cum bliss. The judges announced Joey as the winner and the audience applauded. Joey was still in a daze. Coach slapped Joey hard across the face to shock him awake. The boy shook his head and walked back out onto the stage. The shape of his cummy cock shaft was prominently visible, pushing through the stretchy material. As he walked out, the audience became silent. Joey walked to the center of the stage, spreading his lats as he displayed his muscle, covered in sweat and literally dripping. He hit his most muscular pose and accepted the trophy, lifting his arm as a champion. The judge acknowledged Joey's trainer, Coach Doyle and his gym and gave the microphone to Joey for a brief comment. The boy was breathing heavy as he spoke. "My coach has taught me everything about bodybuilding and devoting myself to this sport." Joey stood there with his cock and balls completely visible through his posers, but acted like nothing was unusual at all. "I want to thank him and all the members of my club back at the gym. You guys have shared with me all the secrets of building muscle and I promise to show my appreciation to each one of you guys. I wouldn't be here today if you didn't give me everything you got. Thank you." The audience looked confused but immediately applauded. Joey took one last bow and walked back to the dressing rooms. The crowd followed him. Coach Doyle met him at the door and, instead of giving him shorts and t-shirt, he handed Joey a tight tank top that he pulled over his head. The spandex top fit like a bra and was very low cut which barely covered his swollen nipples. The male "bra" only accented his huge pec muscles, spilling them over the top. Coach gave the boy a pair of nylon shorts that were extra small and rode up his ass crack, showing the bottom of his ass cheeks. He gave Joey a pill and told him it was an energy supplement but, in reality, it was Viagra. Joey eventually would feel the rush building in his crotch. "Let them feel your muscle if they want too, boy." Coach said, "Never deny anyone who wants to feel you. Let them show their appreciation for your beautiful body." Joey looked at the coach and nodded. Thankfully it was a warm day because that is all the boy wore as he left the venue, carrying his trophy. People were literally following him as he posed for pictures with his cum stained shorts becoming damp now. He was the center of attention as people crowded around him. Joey felt hands feeling his muscle but knew he was not supposed to deny anyone. As he posed for pictures, he felt a hand on his ass and sliding a finger inside his thong poser. He felt the fingers slide over his asshole but knew he was not supposed to pull away. He didn't know who was behind him. A fan asked for a photograph and Joey flexed into a huge double bicep pose. People were standing all around as he suddenly felt the finger push into his pussy hole. Joey tried not to react and continued flexing. People were asking for more private photos as they clicked their cell phones to take pictures with the champion. Suddenly, another finger pushed through into his pussy. Joey was about to panic because there were so many people around. He looked in front of him and saw the Coach smiling at him. He knew he shouldn't pull away for fear of being punished by the coach. The two fingers were now pumping into him slowly in and out. Joey started to feel dizzy. He felt his penis starting to leak into his thin stretchy shorts. He could no longer concentrate and had a difficult time posing for pictures. The fingers were now pumping into his holes as he tried to remain still and pose for his fans. He was afraid to cum again but couldn't deny his pleasure. He was so horny that he bent his knees and pushed his ass backward to get more into his hole. The fingers jammed into his hole so hard that it pushed Joey forward, causing him to land on his hands and knees with the ass lifted up looking for more. Suddenly, the fingers were gone. Disappeared. The bodybuilder looked up to see the coach looking down at him with an angry look. "Im sorry ladies and gentlemen," Coach said loudly as he helped the boy stand back up, "it seems our champion has stumbled." Joey's poser were completely pushed down so his ass was totally exposed in front of the crowd. "Mr. Carbone will be at my gym tomorrow for autographs and photos." Coach said as he leaned down to whisper to the boy. "Don't touch your posers faggot. Leave them right where they are." Joey was too dazed anyway to realize that, as he walked away, his little spandex shorts were beneath his ass, completely exposing his thong strap and rock hard glutes. They arrived back at the coach's office and he immediately pushed the boy down on his desk. "Put your elbows on the desk and show me that faggot ass." Joey immediately bent over without question. It was time for another spanking. His coach slapped his ass hard. "Ouch... Coach what?" Joey yelped. The coach pulled his little shorts off and stuffed it into the boys mouth. "Shut up fag." Coach said, "You're a fag and need to know your place." He was actually afraid that Joey would become cocky and let this win go to his head. He needed to stay in charge and keep Joey submissive no matter what. "You work for me now boy so, from now on, you call me boss." He slapped Joey's ass. "Yeth voss" Joey tried to speak though the sweaty shorts in his mouth. "You know you're a fag, don't you boy?" "Yeth Thir" Joey moaned. "I said BOSS." Coach yelled. "Yeth voss" Joey groaned as he was hit again. "You know why you're a fag boy? "Yeth voss" "What do fags love boy?" Coach leaned down and whispered into the boys ear, "What do fags need to feel good? What do faggot bodybuilders need to win awards? "Homoan Cum Voss" Joey moaned "Exactly faggot" Coach slapped him over and over as he lectured the boy. "You just might be smarter than I thought." He lifted the boy up by his hair and walked him to the corner in his office and pressed Joey's face into it. He kicked his legs open and pushed a nice thick dildo into his pussy. "Keep your ass out so I can see the dildo with your face in the corner." Coach said, "Now that you are working for me full-time, I have some new rules for you to follow." "Yeth Voss" Joey tried to speak. There was a knock at the door and it opened immediately. Frank, Joey's father walked into the room and sat down on the office sofa. "Hey Frankie," Coach said, "Aren't you proud of your boy today?" "Yes boss," Frank said, "you have trained him well too. I know that as long as he follows your lead, he will become great." "That's right Frankie boy," he said, "you're boy here is going to have fame and fortune as long as he stays in line. In fact, since we know he needs to be a faggot now, I was just about to give him a new set of rules." "Faggot Coach?" Frank asked "Awwww, don't be stupid Frank," Coach said, "even though I know that isn't hard for you." He chuckled but Frank didn't understand what that meant. "Your boy needs to know his place and being a faggot is very important now. If other bodybuilders know he is a fag, it will make it easier for him to get the hormone he needs. They will want to fuck their cum into the fag and that is exactly what we want, right?" "Ah, OK right" Frank said, "you're the boss." "We want that because the more hormone the boy takes inside of him the bigger muscle he will grow. So we need him to be fucked almost constantly. By his next competition, he will totally unbeatable. "Ah, OK boss." Frank really didn't get it either but knew he should go along with it. "Yeah right, well maybe you could help me with this Frankie." Coach said, "We just need to go over some new rules for him before his next competition." The coach went to Joey and pulled him by the ear, away from the corner. He led the boy to his father and pushed him down to his knees in front of him. Frank lifted himself up and removed his shorts, wearing only his jockstrap, and sit back down and spread his knees open. Joey instantly smelled the dirty musky scent emanating from his father's crotch. The coach pushed Joey's face into his father's crotch. "Smell and listen boy" Coach said as Frank pulled the boy's head against his jock. "Rule One: No girls until you are no longer a faggot. Being a faggot, girls don't want you anyway. They will only distract you from your career so you will never fuck until I allow it. Men and cum is all you need now." "Rule Two: You will not lose your own cum without permission. It is important that your hormone stays inside your balls to keep the testosterone level high. You will only cum handsfree, without touching it and only if you are taking additional cum from a cock in your mouth or pussy." Frank pulled his son's nose into his balls, smelling the sweaty musk. "Smell your dad's balls boy." The coach continued: Rule Three: You show up to work on time and report to my office each morning for your daily measurements. You will take your place under my desk until we start the edging session. Edging, without cum, will keep your balls producing sperm and increasing your hormone levels. Rule Four: You will wear the same stretchy g-string daily and I will give you your uniform to wear over it for the day. You will sit at your desk with a special seat designed with a dildo attached where you will embed yourself to keep your pussy open for more cock. Frank now pulled out his cock and laid it across his son's face. Joey felt the need to suck but wouldn't do it unless told too. Frank pushed his cock into his son's mouth, alongside the g-string that was already stuffed there. "Rule Five: You will be spanked daily to remind you that you are still a faggot. If you are a good boy, you will only receive 20 spanks but if your bad, for any reason, you will receive at least 50 spanks with the final 10 slapping directly on your hole. Frank looked down at his son and said, "Suck boy." "Looks like your daddy needs to be serviced too." Coach said. "Suck your daddy while you listen to me. I have something important to tell you." The coach leaned in and brought his face close to Joey as he sucked his father's cock." "Good boy," Coach continued speaking with his face directly next to the boy sucking. "You want to be a big boy now, right?" Joey nodded. We are going to start you on steroids this week. Since you came in first place at the qualifier, it allows you to compete with the big boys now. You want to be a big boy, don't you?" Joey nodded again. "We will inject you three times a week with 400 mg of testosterone each time. We will also give you pills to get shredded and ripped. You will eat, and you will eat more. I want 20 more pounds on you by next month. The bigger you get the more men you will attract at the gym. We will get those men to join our Hormone Club. You will service any hormone club member and injest their natural testosterone as well. "Rule Six: You will not deny any club member from using your faggot holes. You will make yourself available to any man at any time. You will not speak unless told to speak, and you will address them as SIR. You will not think either... its better to just let me do all the thinking for you." Each man will rate your service from 1 to 10 so I know you are being a good faggot and taking their cum., including your daddy, throughout the day. "Now arch your back and pull your ass open for me faggot." Coach said. As soon as the boy pulled his ass open, the Coach slapped his hole hard. Joey reacted but didn't take his mouth off the cock. "Hold still boy" Coach ordered as Frank pulled Joey's head down onto his cock. "You need to know what will happen if you slack off in your training faggot. I'm doing this for your own good. You know that." The coach took a thin cane and slapped the boys ass crack, directly on his asshole. "Owwwwwww" Joey yelled into his father's cock embedded deep in his throat. "Hold still son," Frank said, "You heard your coach, he is doing this for your benefit. Just like he did to me years ago." Joey's father was, indeed, a submissive to the coach when they went to college together years ago. Coach hit his asshole again with the cane. Joey let his cheeks go and squeezed his ass in hopes of shielding the stinging blows. "Frankie," Coach said, "why don't you hold your son's ass open for me. It seems that Joey doesn't understand why this is for his own good." Frank did as instructed and pulled his son's ass open as he sucked his own cock. "You have 8 more boy and I need you to say THANK YOU because you understand that I am doing this for your benefit, not mine." He hit Joey on the asshole again. "UGHGHHGHH..." Joey groaned with the cock still embedded in his throat. "Hank ou Thir", he said trying to speak around the cock, dripping saliva onto the floor between his fathers legs. WACK. "Hank ou Thir" Joey started to cry. WACK. "ohhhhhhh, hank you thir" Joey squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the pain would go away. "From now on you think of this pain whenever you slack off faggot." Coach yelled as he hit him again and again. "Do you understand?" "Yeth thir, yeth thir, yeth wease Thir." Joey was sobbing as he begged the Coach to stop. "Only two more son," Coach said, "Hold his ass open nice and wide so I can get a good shot right on the boy's hole." WACK. "Good boy," Coach said, "work through the pain. You're going to be a good boy from now on right faggot?" "Yeth yeth YETH Thir..." Joey was yelling back while crying now. "I'll vee a goo ouy thir." "Hold his ass open Frankie," Coach said, "Now he'll get his load of hormone. I have a load to dump in him quick." Frank pulled his son's ass cheeks open. Suddenly, without any warning, the Coach pushed his hard swollen cock deep into the boy's ass. He pushed in fast and hard as he raped the boy. He was so turned on by slapping Joey directly on his asshole. "Ooowwwnnnngguh", Joey was screaming into his father cock. His hole was already swollen and bruised as the coach rutted into him. "Can I give him a load of hormone too Sir?" Joey's father quickly pulled his cock out of his son's mouth and held it pointed to his face. "Give it to him Frankie." Coach said. Frank held his cock pointed at the boys mouth. He began to spray his cum onto the boy's face. "Fuckkkkk," Frank moaned as he held his son's hair with one hand and then pointed his cock with the other directly into the boy's eyes nose and mouth. He coated the boy's face in cum. "Fuck yeah," Coach yelled as he fucked the boy's ass, "coat the boy's face in cum. Ahhhhh.... " Frank pulled out just in time to move to the boy's face and add his cum. Joey stayed on his knees as he was coated with cum. He tried to open his eyes and looked down to saw a pool of cum just below his own cock. He didn't feel like he had an orgasm. He didn't feel the pulsing contractions in his cock and the shooting sensation. There was only a pool of white cum. Before he could do anything, the coach looked and saw the pool of cum. Joey was terrified that he would be punished again. "Ahhh, I see," the coach said, "you had a pussy orgasm, didn't you?" Joey said nothing. "We call that milking boy. You spilled your cum by having your prostate punched." Joey had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm sorry Sir," Joey said nervously, "but I didn't cum. I swear I didn't cum." "I know boy," Coach said as he leaned down to scoop up the cum from the floor. "You have gotten to the point where your balls are so overloaded that hitting your protate will cause them to release some sperm." He spoke as he fed Joey his own cum off the floor. "Drink boy," he said, "this isn't your fault but this will become the only way I will allow you to have an orgasm eventually. A pussy orgasm." Joey was more horny than ever and the Coach knew this "ruined" orgasm would have this effect on him. "Don't worry boy," he said as he pushed his fingers into Joey's mouth. "You'll get used to it with time. I know its tough, but I am doing this for you faggot. Do you understand that?" Joey looked at him and nodded even though he didn't really have a clue. "Good little faggot." He said, "A good fag for taking men's cum. This is something you will have to do from now on faggot. You know it will make you stronger in the end and you will thank me when you become successful in the bodybuilding and modeling world." ---TO be continued--- READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. My Uncles Farm Trained by my Step Dad The Coach's Assistant Becoming the Team Coxswain My StepDad Knows Best (Gay and Bisexual) Trucker's Boy My stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas you may have for Joey in this story. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. ` Please email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com I will answer ALL emails. Thanks guys.

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Date: Thu, 07 Mar 2002 21:09:19 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little Brothers Sex slave, part 12 It took me about 2 hours to clean the place up, but I was finally finished. About a half an hour latter, Matt came in. "Come on fag, let's go.." he ordered. I dutifully got my stuff and followed him out to the Jeep. We drove home with the radio on loud. We went in, and I immediately went down to the room, and started to unpack. I heard my parents come home, and I could hear Matt talking with them. I guess he was filling them in on the weekend (Oh sure!!). After a little while, it was time to eat, so I went upstairs. Matt and Dad were watching a game on TV, so I sat down. Immediately things go quiet. As always, they could have cared less if I was there or not. Finally Mom called us to dinner. We all made small talk about the weekend. Mom asked if I had a good time at Brian's. I said yeah, as Matt just smirked at me. Dad announced that since I had to go to work the next day, he was lifting the driving restriction "for work only". But I could drive to school, because I would be leaving school to go to work. At least I could have my car back (Hooray!). After we finished dinner, Matt and I went downstairs. He lay on his bed reading a magazine, as I was on the computer. "Chatting with your gay buds?" he quizzed me. "No, just surfing." I answered. " I think I'll call Karen and have phone sex...." He announced. "What?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm going to talk her into an orgasm, while you suck me off!" he said. "Aw, come on Matt, don't make me do that..." I protested. "Fuck that shit man, it's gonna be fun. Lock the door and strip." He commanded. I slowly got up and locked the door. Then I stripped for him. Naturally, I was stiff. "Got you going already, huh fag..." he smirked as he noticed my stiff bone. I just turned red, and waited for him to tell me what he wanted. "I got an idea. Let's get a net meeting going, so some of your fag buds can watch you suck me off..." he said. "Aw, Matt, come one man, don't do that" I protested. "Shut up and get the meeting going." He ordered. I went to the computer and started the net meeting with some guys I had had meetings with before. Matt told me how to position the camera. Pretty soon we were ready. Matt stripped out of his clothes and lay on his bed, naked, and boned. Fuck, I gotta admit he looked good. He dialed Karen, and had me started to lick his cock. "Hey baby......" "Are ya naked babe?......yeah, playing with ur little clity???" "MMMHHH, baby, you like the weekend?" "Fuck yeah, it was awesome." "Actually, naked, with my bro sucking me off...." He laughed, "Sure, he's sucking my cock right now..." And yeah, I was, sucking him up and down, not too hard, just making him way hard and horny. "He loves it babe, just like I love fucking your pussy..." "Yeah, I know you love it babe, me and Brian too." He laughed. "Yeah, I know you do..." "Got your little clit going??" he asked. "Must be sore after all that fucking, huh?" he laughed "Sure, nice young stud cock rubbing your little clity.... Fuck we loved it." "Yeah, babe, fuck it a little, get it real hard..." "Fuck I love hearing you moan baby....moan for Matt." He laughed so more. I sucked more. Nice slow suck, like I knew he wanted. ""mmmmhhh, oh fuck yeah baby....." "Got those tits nice and hard, huh...." "Yeah, I know, you love cock....just play with those tits babe." "OH yeah baby, yeah, work it...." He ordered her as he pumped my face harder. "Tell Matt, how much you love his stud prick....." He laughed again....."Oh yeah, fuck babe, work it...." "Bet ya liked it when me and Brian took turns on your pussy and mouth, huh??" he asked her. "Yeah.....I'll bet" he smiled. He continued on for about 10 more minutes, making her play with herself, as I sucked his cock off. Finally he had her cumming, and then he shot off in my mouth. He grabbed my head and held me firmly as he unloaded his hot teen cum into my mouth. I just gulped as much as I could without choking. He finally hung up and told her he would see her tomorrow. "Nice blow job fag." He said to me. I was really pretty boned up by now, from sucking him and all. "Stand in front of the cam and jerk off for the guys on net meeting." He ordered. I did as he commanded. "Catch the cum in your hand and then eat it, like the cum loving dog you are." He ordered. "Come on cunt boy, look like your enjoying it." He continued. So I did, I jerked off with my head back, like a cunt that he wanted me to be. Finally I shot a nice load in my hand, and like he wanted, I put my hand to my mouth and sucked my own jizz into my mouth. I continued licking till it was all gone. He just sat there and watched me. After we logged off the computer, he told me to go into the bathroom. "You got stubble on your cock and pussy. Go shave and get it off, then come back in here." He commanded. So I went into the bathroom, and got in the shower, I got all shaved up and cleaned, and then returned to the bedroom. "Get over here" he ordered. I approached him, and he grabbed me and pulled me down onto his lap. He raised his hand and started to slap my ass. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack "Matt, what are you doing, come on..." I begged. "I shouldn't have to tell you to keep shaved fag, you need to be disciplined." He laughed. Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack "Please Matt, youre hurting me...." I whined. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack. Pretty soon my ass as all red, and sore. He was hurting me, and I wanted it to stop. "Please Matt, please stop...I promise to be good...." I begged. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack, whack.... Finally he stopped. He got out the handcuffs and twisted my hands behind my back. He clipped em on. I was almost crying it hurt so much. He reached over and got the ben gay out. He rubbed a large amount into my crotch and all over my sore ass. Fuck did it burn!!!! "Oh, Matt, please....why are you doing this to me....." I started to cry. "You are such a fuck up fag boy. You deserve worst than this. And tomorrow, when you get to McDonalds, don't fuck up there either. If I have one bad report about you, you're going to be very very sorry..." he said. He pushed me onto bed and turned the lights out and we went to sleep. Me in pain and agony. The next morning, he laid out my fag clothes for me. Shit I hated wearing those tight clothes, all ripped and stuff. But what could I do. At least I could finally drive to school again. The day really sucked. I saw the two kids I had to suck off on Sat. night. They recognized me and kinda cornered me. Only cuz a teacher was coming, was I able to get away. By the end of the day, I was actually glad to go to work at McDonalds. So I drove over, and reported to my new boss, Joe. "Oh Billy, you're here..." he said, like I was a piece of shit. "Yeah, Joe, all ready..." I tried to be kewl about it. "Why don't you work the drive in for now." He said. I caught him looking at me funny. Things went OK for about an hour, and then Matt and Brian showed up. They had me really going, and then before they could get to the window, more buds of theirs were ordering. So naturally, there were lots of things cooking and then when they got to the window, they claimed I had fucked up the orders, and had to order again. Their buds did it too. Pretty soon, everything was backed up and food was sitting around. Then they started to yell at me, and honk their horns. I was so embarrassed. Joe came over and demanded to know what was going on. I tried to explain, but he got pissed and told me to report to the stockroom in the back and put away stock. He then straightened out the mess. I was really pissed that Matt did this to me, because I knew that I'd be in trouble. And I just didn't want to deal with these ass holes anyway. I was working in the back when Joe finally came in and accosted me. "Well, you sure fucked up that didn't ya?" he asked. I tried to be calm. "They did that on purpose," I said. "Don't start that shit. You can't get anything right can you?" said Joe. "Aw come on Joe, you know that they set me up." I said. "Ya know pal, I don't think that you're going to work out here." Said Joe in his best condescending tone. "Come on Joe, give me a chance man. I'll try harder next time." I said, knowing that if I came home after just one day, my father would have my ass. "I don't know Billy, youre pretty much a fuck up. I don't think you deserve to work here." He said. "Aw come on Joe, please....I can really get into a lot of trouble if I'm fired." I begged. Joe sensed my desperation, and played on it perfectly. "Yeah, so what's in it for me if I keep your sorry ass here?" he demanded. "Well...." I stammered. "Well, what?" he demanded. "Well, what do you want from me?" I asked. "Your brother tells me youre a cocksucker Billy. Maybe if you gave me a little head, I might be able to let this issue go." He said smugly. "Aw come on Joe, don't make me do that." I stammered. "Well, dude, it's your ass, not mine. I guess youre out of here." He said. "No, please......wait a minute." I said. "What?" he demanded. "Well, maybe we can work out a deal." I said, stumbling for time, trying to come up with a plan. "Yeah, like what?" he asked. He was going to let me make the bargain. "Well, maybe I can suck you, if you let me stay..." I said. "Yeah, but what happens if you fuck up again?" he asked. "I promise, I won't fuck up Joe...really." I said. "Aw, I don't know man, you probably can't even suck cock right for all I know." He said. "Oh man, please, Joe, let me try to prove myself." I begged. I could sense his dominance over me. He knew he had me, and that I would do anything to keep the job. He was going to get blown, now and whenever, and would make my life at McDonald's miserable. But if I got to keep my job, it would be worth it. "Your bro tells me he made you shave, is that true?" he asked smugly. I looked down, and answered quietly: "yeah, he did." "Let's see." He commanded. I slowly started to undo my jeans. I didn't want to strip in the restaurant, but Joe made me do it. After I was naked, he looked me over and whistled. "Fuck dude! I thought he was kidding. But shit, you're as smooth as a baby's butt!" he said as he slapped my already red ass. "Looks like someone has been here before...." He observed. "UMM, yeah, Matt slapped me around last night...." I said softly. "Get on your knees, and lets see if you know how to suck cock..." he ordered. So I got on my knees, before this arrogant young man. "Well! Don't just stand there, get my cock out!" He ordered. I look up at him, and reached for his zipper. I unzipped and got hot dick out. It was pretty nice, cut, about 5" long. "Well, get it hard..." he ordered. Pretty soon, I had him hard, about 6 1/2" long, and nice size. I was licking his cock up and down. Pretty soon, I was sucking him like the pro I was. He moaned and rocked back and forth, as I sucked him good. After about 10 minutes, he grabbed my head and moaned loudly as he shot in my mouth. "Oh yeah, babe....." he sighed. Naturally, sucking him off gave me a hard on too. He looked at me and laughed. "Fuck dude, you really are a cock hound aren't ya??" he asked. What could I say; I just looked at him and kinda nodded a little. "Get on your hands and knees and stick your ass in the air." He ordered. I did that and then he grabbed a spatula and started to whack my upturned ass. "Ouch...." I said. He just kept slapping me with the spatula, for about 10 times. My ass was really red and sore. "You fuck again, and we'll have to revisit this deal." He announced. "Now get dressed and go on utility." He commanded. I thanked him for his understanding, dressed and finished my shift by cleaning floors and tables. Fuck I couldn't wait to get home. Matt was already home. I went downstairs, and as I walked into our room, there was Matt, fucking Karen. I said "Oh shit" and tired to walk out. "Get in here fag." Ordered Matt. I came in and stood near the bed. He just kept fucking Karen. I stood there watching. "Strip." He ordered. I knew better than to argue. I stripped as the two of them watched me. I felt so embarrassed. "Go stand in the corner, facing the wall, and jerk off while we fuck." He ordered. I did that as they laughed and fucked. The both of them were enjoying my jerking off per Matt's instructions. When they were done, she got up and started to get dressed. Matt made me jerk off into my hand and lick the cum up as she watched. They both laughed. "So, how was work?" demanded Matt. "OK Matt, it was ok." I answered. He smiled at me and said, "sure it was." And started to laugh. He knew.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-15

Date: Fri, 19 Apr 2002 21:11:26 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: Brothers sex slave, part 15 PART 15 They put in one of the s/m bondage videos. As they watched, they laughed and made comments about how me and Alan loved it ruff. Every once in a while, they would have one of us come over and lick their hot, hard dicks. Then they would slap us and push us away. We were not allowed to talk to each other, but had to answer the questions that they asked. 'Had we tried this?' or 'did we do it like that' It was pretty embarrassing, because, we didn't do most of those things. It didn't matter to them though, they were just having fun embarrassing us. A little latter, they made us stand up in front of them, and sword fight with our hard cocks. Both of us were horned up fer sure, and they didn't let us cum, so we were filled with jizz, and dripping precum. We had to stand in front of each other, and fight with our hard cocks. We both had precum dripping all over from our dicks. They just laughed like crazy at us. And naturally, we could not cum either. Alan was so horned up, he actually begged Matt to let him cum. "Naw, I don't think so." Said Matt with a superior air and sneer in his voice. "Aw, please matt, I'm so horny, I just gotta cum, please" he begged. "No way dude, I like you all horned up like this. I thinks its definitely cool." He laughed. I thought Alan would cry right there. Instead, Matt whacked his ass about 5 times with the paddle. "Your job fag, is to please us. I don't care if your cock falls off man, you ain't jerking off till I say so....Got it??" he lectured. Alan hung his head, and said, "yes sir." I could see Matt's cock get harder from that. He was definitely turning into a sadistic master first for me, and now for Alan too. Pretty soon, Joe had to go. "Can I take the fag with me tonight?" he asked Matt. "Yeah, we could use some cash." He replied nonchanlantly. I felt so used, but what could I do. So I was told to get on my ripped, small clothes and head out with Joe. I knew that I was going to get pimped out that night. As I was leaving, I saw Alan on his knees with Matt, Brian, and Mike standing around him. He was sucking one and jerking the other two. As it turned out, one came in his mouth and the others on his face. When they finished up, Matt announced that he was going to go and see Karen. She was baby sitting for her neighbor. "I promised to come over and fuck her." He laughed. "The kid she's sitting for likes to watch me pork her." They all laughed at that. "I'll take Alan home." He said. Alan was relieved. He got his clothes and took off with Matt. "Guess that leaves you and me." Smiled Brian. "Let me get us a couple of beers man, and some snacks, all the fucking around got me hungry." Said Brian. "Yeah, I could eat a horse." Added Mike. When Brian when to the kitchen, Mike started to see what other videos they had. Brian got some more spiked beer and put another drug into the mix. This was a mild date rape drug. He smiled as he prepared to deal with Mike. He got some snacks as well and went back to the room. Mike was still looking at some of the tapes. Brian suggested they look at another one of the S/M tapes. Mike agreed. As they started the tape, they had some of the beer and snacks. Mike was hungry, and wolfed down the snacks and beer. Brian asked him if he wanted more. He said sure. Brian smiled wickedly as he went to the kitchen and got more stuff. When he got back, Mike was starting to show a haze on his face. Brian knew the dude would be his soon. He handed Mike his new beer, which contained more drugs, including one that one of Brian's buds had given him, which allowed Mike to become very susceptible to suggestions. Mike continued to watch the new video, which was very hot, with lots of cock and ball torture and lots of hot dudes. Brian started on Mike. "Way hot dude..." Brian said. "Yeah...." Said Mike dreamily. Brian could see Mike's hard on in his jeans. "Man, this stuff is soo hot." He added. "Fuck man, I can't believe some of this stuff..." said Mike. Mike's whole tone was very flat. Brian could tell that the drugs were working. "Yeah, I can tell, you really like this stuff, huh?" he asked. "Well, I don't know man, I never would have guessed that dudes would do this....Course, I didn't figure Billy would be the cocksucker he is too." Said Mike. "Aw man, sometimes, its just natural to do this stuff, ya know?" said Brian. "Yeah, I guess.." said Mike. "You ever wanna try this stuff man?" asked Brian. "I don't know..." he answered in a flat voice. "C'mon, you and your bud, Scott, must have fucked around a little right?" Brian coaxed. "Well...." Stammered Mike, unable to lie. "Yeah, see, I knew it..." Brian smiled. "Yah, but we didn't do this kind of stuff.." said Mike. "What did ya do?" asked Brian "Well, just like jerking off and stuff, that's all" said Mike. "Aw, dude, you mean, you and Scott never sucked each other??" said Brian. "No, not that." Said Mike. "Scott a hot dude?" asked Brian "Oh yeah, way hot." Replied Mike. "Fuck man, I bet you've wondered about sucking him before, haven't you?" coaxed Brian. "Well...maybe." Answered the drugged up Mike. "Dude, its totally natural for buds to suck each other. After all, what are buds for anyway" said Brian. "Fuck man, even Matt and I suck each other now and again." He lied. Mike just grunted. "Hey, you ever eat your cum after jacking?" asked Brian. "No, I never did that." Replied Mike. "Aw fuck dude, you don't know what you're missing. It is so delicious. You gotta try it man, you'll love it!" said Brian. "Well, maybe sometime..." said Mike. "Same thing with sucking dude. It is soo hot to have your bud in your mouth. Pumping away. Totally cool. I'm sure Scott would love to have you sucking his dick man. You would probably like to have him suck you too, huh?" chided Brian. "Yeah, it might be kewl to do.." replied Mike. Brian glanced down at Mike's hard cock in his jeans. Fuck yeah, he thought, this dude is ripe! Brian reached over and stroked Mike's hard cock. Mike just moaned in pleasure, a hot horned lust look on his face. "Bet it would be cool to jack off now, huh?" asked Brian. "Oh yeah..." said Mike dreamily. "Hey it might be a good time to eat your cum, wanna try it?" coaxed Brian. "I dunno..." he replied. Just then a scene came on the video. It was of a dude that was lying on his back with his head below him, slowly and sensuously jerking off. The dude was in heaven. He was rubbing his nips and had precum all over his cock. The scene unfolded as the dude continued to jerk, and then shot a huge load all over his face and in his mouth. He hungrily sucked up all the white jizz. "Hey man, that is soo hot." Said Brian. "Yeah..." replied Mike. "Come on dude, you know you wanna try it. Let me help ya." Offered Brian. "OK, yeah, I wanna try it." Replied the drugged stud. Brian got Mike up from the coach. He was totally boned, and so hot. Brian helped him take off his jeans. While Mike was getting set on the coach again, Brian checked the camera. Still running. Excellent. He adjusted it to zoom in on Mike. Of course, Mike was completely lost in his lust and didn't notice. Brian reran the tape so that Mike could see the dude jerking again. Mike started to stroke his cock. "Go slow man, make it last.." said Brian. "Oh yeah, man, slow....." mumbled Mike. Mike continued to jerk as he watched the dude on the TV. "You're gonna love this deal man." Said Brian. "Feel how good it is man....think of that hot cock of yours shooting hot jizz all over you dude. It is so awesome." Chided Brian. "Oh fuck yeah...." Moaned Mike. Mike was now moaning and his cock was dripping precum, which he rubbed all over his dick. "oooowww fuck....yeah......ooohhh.." moaned Mike. "Look at the dude shoot man!" said Brian. "Oh fuck. I'm close man....oh yeah..." moaned Mike. "Yeah, dude, do it. Shoot that cock all over yourself man. Do it now." Ordered Brian "OOOOOOOWWWWW" yelled Mike, and then he shot a huge load all over himself. "Yeah, dude, get it on your face man." Said Brian. Mike did. Some in his mouth and everything. Mike was so into it, he almost passed out. He lay there panting, and still moaning. "Dude, taste it." Said Brian. Mike reached down and got some of his jizz and put it to his lips. "OOHH yeah.." he moaned. "Yeah man, good, isn't it?" asked Brian. "Yeah, it is." Said Mike. "Have some more.. have it all, get it all man." Said Brian. So Mike did that. He stuck his fingers in all the piles of cum, and he scooped it up and ate it. "Wasn't it good?" asked Brian. "Oh yeah, it was good man, it was great." Said Mike "Eating cum is so great man, you're going to love it dude." Said Brian. "Yeah, I love cum man...love it." Said Mike. Brian smiled as he watched Mike falling asleep on the floor........

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-19

Date: Tue, 21 May 2002 20:03:03 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: Brothers sex slave, part 19 Matt snickered at me. "Get on the couch, bitch..." he ordered. This was new; he never called me bitch before. I just sat down like I was told. "Get something for Billy to drink..." said Matt to Brian. Brian smiled and went off the get me something. Mike just sat there with a stupid glaze on his face. I figured that the boys had a good time with him. He was shaved and all. Fuck, I thought, that didn't take long. Just then Brian came in with a glass of what looked like coke. "Drink it all" he ordered. I was thirsty and since I had sucked all that cum, it looked good. I drank it all. God, it felt good going down. Matt came over to me, and made me lay over his lap. He started to rub my ass. "You been a good boy tonight fag?" he asked. "Yes, I did everything they told me to." I replied. Suddenly, he raised his hand and then... WHACK WHACK WHACK I cried out. "What are you doing that for?" I asked. "Cuz, I wanted to..." he laughed "Ouuuccchhh...."I whined. He just kept whacking me, 7 more times. At the end he made me stand up in front of him. I was hard. "You fucking fag!! Look at how hard you are..." he said. I looked down, and I was hard as a rock. I know I had sunk to deep depths, but I really was getting so turned on by dudes abusing me. I couldn't believe it. "Lick the precum off of your dick." He ordered. I put my finger down there and got some and brought it to me lips. "How do you like Mike's new look, huh?" he asked. I looked at Mike, he was boned up too. "He looks good." I said, not knowing if that's what I was supposed to say. "He loves cock now, just like you." Said Brian. "Right Mike?" "Yeah, love it." He replied sleepily. I was feeling funny from the drink he made me drink. "Hey dudes, its getting late....we got lots planned for you guys tomorrow, so, we should sack out." Said Matt. "Yeah, beddy by time." Snickered Brian. Matt grabbed my hand and pulled me down to the bedroom. He had some rope and started to tie me up to the bedposts. When I was spread eagle, he got the ben gay, and squeezed some on my crotch and cock. "Please Matt, don't..." I begged. "Dude, its good for you.." he laughed. He got my cock all nice and wet with the stuff, got me so horned, but fuck did it sting. Then he turns off the lights and left me. I whimpered from the humiliation and the hurt. I was so fucked up; I wasn't sure what I felt. Meantime, Brian took Mike to another room, and tied him up. He did the same thing with the ben gay. Mike was so horned, but they mixed preparation H in his ben gay. Mike was so much on edge; he begged em to let him cum. They just laughed. They turned off the lights and left the poor stud, dying of cum lust and pain. Both Matt and Brian went into the living room, and made tapes for us. One for me and one for Mike. On Mike's tape, they reinforced his desire for sucking cocks. They told him, that he loved sucking hot cock, and wanted it more and more. That he loved Scott's hot dick, and he would do anything that Scott wanted him to. That he would act straight, except in the locker room, and then he would get an uncontrollable hard on. That he would think about sucking cock while he was fucking chicks, and eventually would need more cock to satisfy his hunger. They told him, that he loved to where thongs, and tight clothes, and that he wanted to have all kinds of tight underwear that he would wear to school. They told him that he wanted an earring. Then they made my tape. Matt told me that I was always going to be inferior to him. That I was always going to do everything that I was told to do. That I wanted and ear ring. That I was to do everything I could to please my younger brother. And that I craved his cock, and would always long for its sweet juice. After they got the tape ready, they got me and Mike, and tied him up with me. His cock was at my hole. They slide the phones on and left us alone. We were both drugged and horned, and pretty soon, Mike's hot boy cock was up my ass. Of course, we both had ben gay on, so it was wicked burning. But Mike was so horned up, he had to fuck me. He pumped away as his tape played. I listened to mine as mike fucking me. We were both out of it, and finally after he shot in my hole, we both collapsed and fell asleep, listening to our new instructions. Matt and Brian also went to sleep, happy with how they had fucked up two normal dudes, and looking forward to tomorrow's activities. Matt and Brian got up about 9:00 the next morning. They came in and pulled Mike off of me. We were both pretty fucked up, still. "You guys stink!! Said Brian. They threw us into the shower and made us wash each other. I liked the feel of Mike's taunt body. He seemed to like mine too. "Come on fags, we gotta get going!" yelled Matt. So we got out and got dressed. Matt and Brian got in the jeep, made me and Mike sit in back, and we headed off toward town. I shuttered when Mike pulled up in front of that porn store, where I had to buy the stuff. But this time, they marched us in. "Hey Bill" said Mike to the tall dude in back of the counter. "Matt.." said the dude. "You ready?" he asked. "Yeah, these two guys the ones you told me about?" asked Bill "Yep." Replied Matt. "Take em in the back, and strip em." Ordered Bill. They marched us in the back room, and then told us to strip. I was scared, but Mike just did as he was told. When he was naked, his cock sprang up like a rod. I was getting boned, but not as hard. A few minutes latter, Bill came in. He looked us both over. I was embarrassed as hell, as was Mike. After all, being naked and horned in front of some stranger. "You guys want just one ear ring or two?" Bill asked Matt. "Just the one for now." Said Matt. "Each one gets one." Bill grabbed me and pulled me over to a table. He started to clean my ear with alcohol, I pulled back. Matt came over and slapped my face, hard. "Stop moving around bitch." He ordered. "But Matt, please, I don't wanna get an ear ring. What will everyone think?" I whined. He slapped me again. "They will probably think you're a fag pussy." He hissed. Bill clamped the machine on me, and pulled the trigger, and bam, I had a nice gold hoop in my ear. It hurt like a bitch!! They Brian grabbed Mike, and they did him. Bill looked over his work and smiled. He reached down and fondled Mike's dick. "Nice looking cock." He said. "Yeah, we were thinking maybe he needed a little something extra down there, the fag too." Said Brian. "What you got in mind?" asked Bill, as he rubbed Mike's cock. Matt and Brian looked at each other and smiled. "Well, maybe a prince Albert?" Brian said. "Ya think?" asked Bill. "Naw, lets just get em some cock rings....for now" said Matt. "Yeah, that would be cool, especially if they're gonna be shaved like this." Said Bill. "Cock rings tend to keep the dick sticking out...might be a good show for they're friends..." laughed Bill. He produced two rings and slapped em on our cocks. Fuck, did I feel cheap or what. "There, that should keep em hard for a while..." snickered Bill. "What else can I get you guys today?" asked Bill. "Got any tight thongs?" asked Brian. "Yeah, pretty see thru too." Offered Bill. "Let's have em try some on, both of em." Ordered Matt. Bill left and came back a minute latter with several pairs. He threw em on the table. "OK boys, try em on." Ordered Brian. We both pick some up and tried em on. Fuck, they were so tight. We looked real obscene, you could see our cock rings, and the material was almost see thru. Matt and Brian chuckled. "Yeah, these will do real nice. Thanks Bill." They said. "OK, we'll wait outside while the boys pay ya.." said Matt as he smiled. They left, and then Bill told us to get on our knees. What could we do, we both sank to our knees. Bill undid he jeans, and out popped this 8" cut cock with a PA ring at the end. "You know what to do boys." Ordered Bill as he cock grew to its full length. Mike and I knelt before the dude, and as one sucked, the other licked up and down his cock shaft. We alternated and both had lots of sucking action. I could see that Mike was really into his new routine as a cocksucker. He loved it. I did it because I knew that Matt would beat me silly, if I didn't. Bill lasted for about 10 minutes, and then he unloaded into our mouths. He flooded both of us, and left some cum on our faces and lips. Naturally, we weren't allowed to cum or anything. Bill just looked down at us, and smiled. "Get dressed." He ordered. We got dressed and came out into the main shop with cum on our faces. We felt so embarrassed. "Come on, we're late." Yelled Matt. We all left and got in the jeep. Matt drove off laughing. We went to a mall. "Go in there, to the "head shop" at the end, and buy these items" Matt ordered. He handed me a folded list. Mike and I got out and went in. We found the place, went in, and looked at the list. The place was a weird kinda set up. They had lots of leather items, some dressing rooms, and a small room near the back that had lots of sexy stuff. Naturally, that was the stuff that Matt wanted us to get. So on his list were tight shorts, in leather, thongs, clean Speedos, leather pants, Leather vests, and some nipple clamps. Mike and I both had to try things on before we bought them. That was part of the instruction. And of course with our cock rings, we stood right out there. A lot of what we bought just made me embarrassed, but Mike really was into what he put on. He felt he looked real good in some of the clothes. It was way embarrassing checking out though. There was a black girl for a clerk. Boy did she raze us. Looking us up and down, making cracks about how we must be in love with one another. Like I said, I was way embarrassed. Finally we were done, and made our way back to the jeep. Matt made me show him all the things we got. He and Brian snickered all the way home to Brian's house. By now, it was about 2 in the afternoon. Brian announced that they would be having a little party that night for the soccer team. We had to clean up the place to get ready for that. Naturally Mike and I did the work. By about 4 we were done. Matt sent us to the bedroom to relax, before the party. I could only imagine what was in store for us now. If you like this story, email me, there are a few more chapters coming.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-2

Date: Wed, 14 Nov 2001 22:11:33 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little Brother's Sex Slave part 2 During dinner, I was so afraid that he would say something to Mom or Dad. But he just kept looking over at me with the stupid smirk on his face. Most of the conversation had to do with him anyway. How his game was and stuff. They didn't even say two words to me. I couldn't wait to get out of there. As soon as dinner was over, I said I had some homework to do. Matt said he was going to go over to Brian's for a little bit. Naturally, it was OK with them. As he was leaving, he whispered in my ear: "Don't you dare jerk off dude." I went to my room and closed the door. Matt was definitely going to turn in to an asshole about this whole thing, I just knew it. I was trying to figure a way out of this deal, but I couldn't come up with anything. I knew if I went to Dad, he would take Matt's side. He always did. I didn't feel that I could talk to Mom about this at all. I got out my books and started to study. Finally about 10 or so, I got tired, and decided to go to bed. By 10:30 I was in bed, as were Mom and Dad. About 11 or so, in comes Golden boy Matt. "Dude." He says waking me up. "What the fuck, can't you see I'm asleep..."? I protested. "I'm horny...I wanna blow job" he says. "Fuck you..." I say. "No way faggot...I'm horny, and you big brother are gonna suck me off!!" he says as he starts to strip. I watched him strip out of his clothes. I gotta admit the boy was fucking beautiful. He as starting to get me hard. Finally he was standing in front of me with that 7" cock of his standing out, real hard. "Come on, get out of that bed and do me man." He ordered. I slowly turned back the covers and got up. I looked at him, with his wiseass smirk, and knew I wanted to taste his cock again. I got on my knees in front of him. I looked up at him. He was looking at me on my knees, smiling. I opened my mouth and he slides his huge cock into my mouth. He let out a low moan. For about 5 minutes he pumped in and out of me. Grabbing my hair and ramming his meat into my throat. Finally, he tightened up and blew a big load into my mouth. "Oh yeah...sucker!!" he moaned. When he was done, he pulled out and looked down at me, my boxers tenting with my own hard on. I had not jerked off, maybe because he told me not to, but maybe because I was thinking of other things. "Pretty boned up there dude..." he commented. "Yeah...I guess" I lamely answered. "Jerk off for me." He commanded. "What?" I asked. "Strip, lay on the bed, and let me see you jerk off," he said I don't know why I did it, but I did as he told me to. I guess I didn't feel I had a lot of choice in the matter, and fuck, I was horny. He sat on his bed and watched me do it. I was embarrassed, but I figured what the fuck. I needed to nut too. It only took about 3 minutes and I shot a big load all over my chest and stomach. He got up and came over to me. "Lick your fingers." He commanded. I did. I had eaten my own cum before, but never when someone commanded me to. "Eat some more," he told me. I did, I licked up all the cum from my fingers and moved from pile to pile of cum and ate some more. "You like cum, huh?" he asked. "Yeah, I do..." I answered. "How many guys you suck off fag?" he asked "Huh?" I asked. "How many?? I know you suck Alan, but who else you suck?" "Just a couple of other guys." I answered. "Who?" he persisted. "Scott, Jason, Jeff, and Alan." I replied meekly. He snickered and said, "Cool" Then he turned and went to the bathroom, and got into bed. That was it for that night. The next morning was normal. I was late, and Matt just saw me leaving for school in passing. The day was pretty normal too. Nothing too much happened. When I got home from school, Matt and Brian were busy, moving our stuff from the room on the second floor to the rec room in the basement. "What the fuck are you doing?" I demand. "We're moving to the rec room in the basement." Replied Matt. "Are you fuckin crazy?" I asked. "I talked to Dad about it and he said it was OK. Told him it would give us more room and a little more privacy. Mom said it would be a good time to redecorate our old room and turn it into a nice guest room. So grab some shit and help." He said. "Who said I wanna move?" I asked. "Who cares?" he replied smugly. He leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Lots of privacy for you to suck me off fag!" Then he laughed. I was kinda glad that Brian didn't hear that. I didn't like the idea, but what could I do. I knew that Dad had to have said OK for him to be doing it. And I knew that Matt probably made it look like it was both of our ideas. There was nothing I could do about it now. I just helped as best I could with the move. It took us about 3 hours to complete everything and get it set up. I gotta admit that it was a lot more room. Matt had some good ideas about how he wanted things set up. We had lots of room for all the stuff and a very large closet that held all of our stuff. By the time we were done, Mom and Dad were home. They came and looked everything over, and approved. Matt was just full of himself, chatting like crazy at dinner. Latter, he even invited me out to the driveway to shot some hoops. Actually, it was kinda fun, even though he beat me (as usual). When it got dark, we went inside and down to our new room in the basement. (Actually, we had a sliding glass door what opened up to a little patio area, so it was not like being in a basement. We also had our own bathroom, which was bigger than the other one. He was working on his computer, doing something, and I was at my desk. In a while, he got up to shower. He stripped down and I watched him as he strode to the bathroom. I couldn't believe how hot he looked. About 20 minutes latter, he was back all clean. "K dude, ready to blow me?" he asked. "Aw, c'mon Matt" I said. "You know you want it fag..." He said. I looked at him and I gotta admit I was starting to tent my jeans. He was definitely a hot little dude. And that cock of his was near full hard now. He stood there casually stroking it. "Over here, kneel here." He pointed to the floor in front of him. I got up and walked over to him. I hung my head, and knelt in front of him. He grabbed my head and pulled me onto his cock. When he did that he sighed. Pretty soon, he was pumping my face like mad, and shortly thereafter, he shot down my throat. When he was done, he pulled me off of his meat. "I like that bro...I'm gonna definitely love being down here, away from the old man, with lots of privacy." "Just think of all the fun we can have." He chided me. "Yeah, fun for you, sure, what about me?" I asked. "What about you?" he asked. "I thought you liked sucking cock bro, don't ya?" he continued. "I let you suck me off, ain't that enough for you?" he asked. I hung my head and said softy, "no" "OK, tell ya what, why don't you have Alan come over tomorrow after school. I've got practice till about 5, so you two can fag out. Think that would be OK?" "Yeah, I guess." I answered slowly. "Oh, and don't fag out on my bed dude, got it??" he said. "Yeah, I got it." I answered. As I lay in bed, all I could think about was sucking Alan, and maybe having him suck me... Stay tuned for the next exciting installment... Email me what you think.. Thanks. Billy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-9

Date: Sat, 22 Dec 2001 17:42:27 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: little brother's sex slave, part 9 After I caught my breath, they let me rest for a while. I was still boned, and not allowed to touch my cock, but they were watching another video, so they were ignoring me. Then Matt announced that he needed another blowjob. "Get over here fag and blow me man,..." he said. I crawled over to him and he whipped his cock out. He was partially hard, and I had not problem in getting him all the way up. I hungrily sucked my studly little bro. He just let me keep going, as he rocked back and forth slowly, enjoying my blowjob. After almost 10 minutes he grabbed my head and rammed his cock into my mouth and throat as far as he could and then he loaded up 6 good squirts of teen stud juice into me. God it felt great! After he was done, he pushed me forward off of his cock. Joe was watching. "Me now.." he said. I crawled over to the dude and sucked him down as well. I liked his cock; it wasn't quite as big as Matt's, and I could easily get it down. It only took him about 6 minutes to feed me his jizz. Then Brian spoke up. "Come here fag..." I crawled over to him. He too whipped his meat out and started to cock slap my face. His meat was so incredibly hard. Matt and Joe laughed at what he was doing. Finally Brian grabbed my head and forced his cock deep into my throat. I couldn't believe how incredibly horny all this was making me. I sucked the dude like the cock hungry whore I was turning into. It only took him about 4 minutes and he fed me his jizz. God, I loved the taste of hot boy jizz. I was becoming addicted to it. "Man, you do love it don't ya?" asked Matt "Oh yeah, I could never have believed it, but I love it...." I confessed. They all laughed at me. I looked up at Matt. "Can I jerk off matt?" I asked. "Maybe..." He replied. "Please Matt, I'm so horny..." I pleaded. "OK, we'll let you, if you agree to let us video tape you..." he said. "Oh man, please." I begged. "Video, or no jacking fag..." he announced. "OK.." I agreed. "Fuck, I love it when he begs me." Said Matt, smirking Joe and Brian just laughed. "Brian, lets get the video set up in your room. He can watch the gay porn tapes while he jacks off for us." Instructed Matt. They grabbed me and walked me to Brian's room, and then made me lay on the bed. Brian set up his camcorder, actually 2 of em, and Matt put in the porn. They turned the sound down low. I was so incredibly boned up, I was going crazy. "OK fag boy, this is the deal.....I want a 10 minute session. I want you to slowly, very slowly jack off. I want you to lick your fingers of precum all the time. You're going to talk to the cam. I want you to convince that cam what a fag you are. How much you love sucking hot cocks, especially Brains, Joe's, and mine. You have to describe all the things you love doing, in detail. And after all that, you can cum. After you cum, I want to see you licking your fag fingers clean of the jizz. And eat all the cum you shoot. All of it!" he instructed. "And you better do it good fag, or I might have to whip your ass again!" said Matt. I felt so humiliated, but what could I do. I had to obey, or I would never get to cum. I knew that Matt would love to find an excuse to whip my ass too. So I did it. As they filmed me, I described how I loved cock. How I loved sucking it. How I loved cum. I would rub my own bald cock, and lick the precum from my fingers. I tried as best as I could to be a little whore cunt, that they wanted me to be. And besides, I guess it was true. I mentioned them all by name, describing their cocks and how much I love sucking them. How I loved their hot teen cum. How I longed for it, and how I needed it. I guess I lasted about 12 minutes like this, and then I started to cum. Oh god, I came and came, and came. The fucking viagra was so powerful; I thought I was going to die. I could barely catch my breath. And like Matt told me to do, I cleaned all my jizz from my body and ate it, like the cum lover I was becoming. I guess I did good, cause they all laughed at me. "Good job fag" said Brian. "Yeah, you did good bro...." Said my little brother. I felt relieved, but my cock was still rock hard. "Oh, by the way, I noticed a little hair still around your cock man. Hey Brian, where's that hair removal cream?" Matt asked. "In here." He said from the bathroom. "Bring him in." he said. Joe and Matt got me up and walked me into the bathroom. "Get in the tub." He instructed. I stood in the middle of the bathtub. Brian produced a bottle of some cream. "Here, rub this all over your chest, stomach, crotch, ass, and legs." I was instructed. I did as I was told. After 5 minutes of rubbing it in, they turned on the water and rinsed me off. It was all tingly, but all the remaining hair on my chest, crotch, and legs ran down the drain. I was completely dehaired.!! After drying off, we went back to the bedroom. It was getting late, almost 1:00. I was pretty exhausted, and needed to some rest. Matt and Brian tied me to his bed again. "Don't want you playing with yourself during the night.." he announced. As they almost left the room, Matt turned around and came back in. He went to the bathroom, and came back with some ben gay. "Oh no, Matt, please don't" I started to beg him. He just had this sinister grin on his face. "What's the matter fag, didn't you like your last ben gay treatment?" he asked mockingly. "Oh please Matt, I'm beggin ya, have mercy...." I whined. "Fuck mercy fag boy. This stuff is good for ya." He smirked. He squeezed out a good size glob and started to rub it into my newly dehaired cock and balls. He puts extra on my ass, and rubbed some into my hole. "Yeah, this is good for ya..." he laughed. Shit, it was burning and hurt like hell. I couldn't do anything about it. My hands were tied. I started to whimper. "Please matt, please..." I begged. He just looked at me and smiled. "See ya in the morning fag...." He said as he shut off the lights and I heard him laughing as he walked away. I just lay on the bed whimpering, and hurting. The next day, I was awake early. But the guys didn't come to get me until almost 10:00. The first thing they did was make me suck them off. When they untied me, they made me kneel on the floor. They stood over me, and with two cocks looking at me, made me suck first one, then the other. When I didn't have a cock in my mouth, I was to jerk the other one. It took about 5 minutes for them to feed me cum for breakfast. After they were done, they showered and got ready. Brian handed me my uniform for the day. Tight t, and tight shorts, no underwear. I was still hard from the viagra, so you could see everything. They wouldn't let me get cleaned up or anything. I smelled like cum and ben gay. I had to wear work boots as well. "C'mon fag, we got to get going..." announced Matt. I just blindly followed. We all went out and got in the jeep. Matt drove, Brian next to him, and I was in the back. Not much room, but hey. We drove downtown, and Matt pulled up and parked. "OK Fag..." he said. " I want you to take this list and go to that store over there and get the things on the list. Then come back." He handed me the list. I looked at it. It said. "4 cockrings, I butt plug." "Oh Matt, please don't make me...." I started to whimper. He slapped my face. "Get fucking moving fag, NOW!" He ordered. I got out of the jeep and started to slowly walk towards the store. "Be back in 6 minutes cunt" Brian yelled. Oh fuck, I thought. I got to the store, looked around, and went in. There were a couple of people milling around, and the guy behind the counter was a nice looking black dude. I started to look around. I couldn't find the things they wanted me to buy. As I was looking around, the guy asked me if he could help me. I tried to avoid eye contact, but he looked me over real good. Finally, I saw what I needed. Oh fuck, they were in a glass display case, at the counter. I had to ask the black dude for them. "Umh, please sir, I need 4 cockrings." I sheepishly asked. "What size kid?" he asked. "Um, medium, I guess." I answered. I had no idea. "These for you?" he asked, looking me over. My hard cock was tucked up in my tight jeans, but you could see it clearly. "Umh, no, my brother." I answered. "Sure medium is the right size?" he asked. "Yeah." I answered totally embarrassed. "And I need a butt plug...." I said. "Oh" he said with a smile. "Umh, yeah, that one...." I pointed to a medium sized plug. He rang up the things. $28.00. I paid him and took the bag and got out of there as quick as I could. I rushed across the street to the jeep and got in. "You get the stuff?" asked Matt. "Yeah. Here." I handed him the bag. "OK, take this list and get these items." He handed me another list. "Matt, how come you didn't let me get everything at once." I asked. "Cause, I didn't think of it." He laughed. I looked at the list: 1 gay cum shoot video and 1 dildo." Oh fuck I thought I got out and went back to the store. The black dude looked up at me when I came in. "Yes?" he asked. "I forgot a couple of things....where are the videos?" I asked. "You pick the box of what you want from over there, and I put the video in when youre ready to buy." He said. Great I thought. I started to look around for the gay videos. I finally found the one I was supposed to get, and brought it him. "HMMM" he said as he rummaged around for the vid. He finally found it, announcing its title. "Anything else?" he asked. "Yeah, I need a dildo." I said quietly. He smiled, and said, "Come over here, we have a nice selection." He walked over to the other area, and we looked em over. After a few minutes, I selected one, and then we paid up. I left the store. I got to the jeep and handed the items to Brian. "Oh, go to the store, and get the items on this list." Brian handed me another list. "Oh please man, don't make me do this." I pleaded. Matt turned around and slapped my face a few times. "Just get moving cunt boy. You got 3 minutes." He said angrily. I jumped out and ran to the store. I went directly to the black dude and gave him the list. 2 gay magazines, and a bondage video. "Any of them will do." I said quickly. It took him a few minutes to get the items, and by the time, I was checked out, and running out of the store, Matt was driving away. I started to run after them, yelling at them to stop. He got to a stoplight and had to stop. I caught up and jumped in. "You are a dumb cunt fag, you know that?" said Matt. "I tried to hurry, but he couldn't find the items." I said. Brian grabbed the bag and looked it over. "Yeah, this stuff will be kewl." He smirked. We went to McDonalds, had some chow, and then went home to Brains house. I dreaded what was going to happen next........

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-1

Date: Thu, 08 Nov 2001 22:54:48 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little Brother's Sex Slave Hi. My name is Billy. This is the story of how my younger brother started to humilate me and how he got me to, well, basically become his sex slave. Let me explain about us. I'm 17 1/2, about 5-8, 160 #, brown hair and eyes. Not a jock or anything like that. I was always the "brainy" one. Did pretty good in school, but not in sports. So I tended to not get that involved. Didn't play on any teams or anything. My brother, on the other hand, was the perfect little jock boy. Played in everything since he was 8. He's 16, 5-11, 155 or hard, packed muscle. And he looks the part too. Blonde hair and blue eyes. Since he's so good at sports, he's in baseball, soccer, and in the winter, basketball. Obviously, he hangs with a whole different crowd than me. Actually, he has a lot more friends than I do. Lots of those guys like to hang out together anyway. Oh yeah, his name is Matt. All of the differences have really caused some friction between us. He kinda looks down on me, even though I'm older than him. He can be pretty aggressive when he wants, and sometimes will try to "lord it over me". His whole life is so much different from mine too. Even our cars. I ended up with my grandfathers old Gran Am. He has a 2 year old Wrangler Jeep. Anyway, I had a good friend named Alan. Alan and I hung around alot since we were like 12 years old. In fact he and I kinda learned a lot about sex together. In fact, he and I first jerked off together, and more recently had taken to sucking each other off. We didn't get many girls, so it worked out that we either jerked each other off, or sucked each other off when we could. My brother had a buddy too. His name is Brian. Again, Brian was like my brother, a jock. Except he was dark haired instead of blonde. They were built about the same. Brian was over our house a lot, but never really paid much attention to me. Being fed misinformation by Matt, Brian looked down on me anyway. One day, me and Alan were hanging at my house. I thought it was safe because my parents were both working late, and more important, Matt was at practice till late. So me and Alan were naked in our room (yeah, me and Matt shared the same room), and I was sucking him. We had the radio on and didn't hear Matt come home. He came in the room just as Alan was shooting. He watched Alan shoot a big load of jizz right into my mouth and on my face. I got up from in between Alan's legs to see my younger brother standing there watching us, with a big smile on his face! "Hey big brother.....taste good?" he chided. Alan was embarassed, and got up and started to put his clothes on. "Matt....come on man, please don't start..." I answered. "Always figured you two were fags....now I know, huh Alan?" he asked Alan "Hey, its no big deal." said Alan. "Sure dude. Not for you guys anyway." said Matt. "What are you talking about?" I asked. Matt walked over to me and stood close to me and then leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Wonder what Mom and Dad would think of Mr. Brianiac's 'sexual activities'..." "Come on Matt, you wouldn't do that...." I asked. He smugly looked at me, with jizz on my chin and cheek, standing there naked, with a bone, all horned up, and said: "Why wouldn't I....." By then Alan was dressed and heading towards the door. He didn't want to hang around. "Hey Billy.....later" he said as he rushed out. I started to reach for my clothes, but Matt stopped me. "No dude, stay like this for a while...." he smiled. "Aw come on Matt.... let me get my clothes on..." I asked. "Fuck you fag boy" he snapped at me. "You know, I always thought you were a fag, and now I know it. I think this might work out to my advantage....and maybe yours too." he continued. "You obviously like sucking cocks....anyone can see that from your face. And I might just need your services from time to time. You know, all that working out I do makes me pretty horny. Maybe you should be available to 'service' me once in a while." "You want me to suck you off?" I asked "Yeah..." he answered. "Fuck you!" I shouted at him He slapped my face, hard, and then said: "I would think that over if I were you, fag..." "What do you think Dad would do to you if he knew what you were doing? I know, he'd ground your ass for the rest of your natural life, that's what" he said. I thought about it and knew he was right. My father and mother always took his side. It was like he could do no wrong. Matt was the Golden boy, I was the looser. It had been like this from the start. I always disappointed them, Matt was always the star. I knew Matt had me. And I knew he would push it to his advantage. He always did. "Come on man, don't do this..." I said quietly He smiled at me with that golden boy smile of his and said "I know you like cock.....wanna have some real jock cock?" "Please Matt.....don't" I begged. "Shut up and kneel fag..." he ordered I couldn't do anything but follow his orders. I knelt in front of him. He looked down at me smuggly. "Yeah....I like you like this.....horned and ready to suck dick..." "Aw come on Matt, please don't do this to me....." I begged. "Unzip me fag and get out your afternoon treat." he ordered me. I hesitated for a minute, till he slapped my head and face again. "Now..!" he ordered. I raised my hands to his jeans and slowly unzipped his jeans. His cock was already getting hard and it poked out of his boxers. He sighed. "Oh yeah....." he said dreamily. Even in the cock department, he had it over me. His dick was 7" long and although not overly fat, was nicely proportioned to his body. Yeah, he was a real jock alright. Mine was only about 6" long. I always resented him for that too. "Come on dude, lick it." he ordered. I knew I was going to have to do this, so I stuck out my tongue and slowly licked his cockhead. He looked down at me and smiled. He knew I could not go back now. "Put it in your mouth dude." he ordered I did. I put his cock in my mouth and sucked the head. I couldn't believe my own brother was making me do this. But I also knew I had no choice but to do what he wanted. He held all the cards, and he was now deciding how much or little I had to put out. He moaned a little, and then grabbed the back of my head and rammed his meat all the way in. I choked and gagged a little. He pulled out a little and then rammed my throat again. This time, it went in further. "Oh yeah, I knew you could do fag boy" he taunted. He continued to pump my face for a few minutes. Then he pulled out. He looked down at me and smiled. "Hey dude.....look at your little bone...." he taunted me. I did look down and my dick was rock hard. "Guess you like this shit, huh?" he said. I was soo embarassed by this. I couldn't look at him. I held my head down. "Yeah....I think this is going to work out just fine..." he said. "I'm liking the idea of having my own personal cocksucker and slave boy...." he quipped. "Hey wait a minute" I said. "I'm not your slave..." I protested. "Oh yeah..." he said. "From now on, you big brother, are at my mercy. You know exactly what's going to happen to your sorry ass if Dad finds out about out little secret. Your ass will be grass! You know I'm right don't ya??" "Well, I know he'd take your side, sure, but I don't wanna be your slave man." I said "Who cares what you want. I think you want to suck dick. Look how it turns you on. And since I'm the once holding all the cards in this game, you gotta do what I want. Got It?" he said with great authority. "Oh come on Matt, please. Don't make me do this. We can work something out, come on." I begged. "Sure we can. It's simple, you do what I say, and I keep quiet. Is that fair?" he said. "Yeah, I guess it is." I said with resignation. "Good, now back to work on my dick dude..." he said. I opened my mouth and he slide his cock into my waiting mouth. "Oh yeah, baby, this is so fucking cool.." he said as he smirked at me. For the next 10 minutes he casually fucked my mouth and throat. He spent a lot of time moaning, and telling me how good I was. He said he was glad I finally found something I was good at. Every once in a while, he would pull out and make me kiss the head of his dick. Sometimes he would rub it around my face as he laughed at me. And, I have to confess, I was liking what he was doing to me. Sure, he liked to humilate me, and he was doing that OK, but I was really getting off on sucking my little brothers hot cock. I couldn't believe that I was so fucking turned on by this scene. I sucked as best I could, knowing that if I pleased him, he might go easy on me. Finally I could sense he wanted to shoot his load. I could feel his cock getting harder and bigger. He was pumping pretty good now, so I knew he was close. Finally he moaned and started to squirt. Fucking cumming in my sucking mouth. He shot something like 6 strong shots of hot boy cum. I sucked it all too, every last drop. Finally he was done, and he pushed me off of his cock. Mine was still rock hard though. "Dude, way good blow job!" he said. "Was it good for you?" he asked and started to laugh hysterically. I hung my head in shame. I was playing with my own cock, but he slapped my hands away telling me: "No way dude, you don't get to play with that little dick. Mom and Dad will be home soon, so get this mess cleaned up." I got my clothes back on and did what he told me to. Little did I know, that this was just the beginning....

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-17

Date: Fri, 03 May 2002 13:30:35 +0000 From: Billy Boy <hotboybilly45@hotmail.com> Subject: Brothers sex slave, part 17 "Why don't you kneel down man..." ordered Brian. "Oh man, I'm so fucked, I don't think I can..." mumbled Mike. Brian helped him and then stood in front of him, and slowly stripped off his cutoff jeans he was wearing. Naturally, no underwear. His cock bounced up at Mike. "Ooww, wow..." sighed Mike. "Yeah, dude, look at that cock man. Cool huh?" questioned Brian. "Yeah, real hot." said Mike. "Oh fuck man, so horny....Touch it Mike, just cop a little feel." ordered Brian. Mike reached out and stroked his dick, and sighed. Brian smiled. "Oh dude, feels so good, you like it right?" asked Brian. "Umh, yeah, feels nice..." mumbled Mike. Brian smiled as Mike tried to focus on the cock. He was staring at it. "You wanna lick it, go ahead." Said Brian. Mike dutifully stuck his tongue out and licked the piss slit. "Oh yeah dude..." sighed Brian. Mike licked some more, and then without coaching, popped the head into his mouth. "MMMHHH..."said Brian. Mike sucked about 3" into his mouth. He looked soo cool with Brian's cock in his mouth. Brian was incredibly hard. Brian laid his hands on Mike's head, and gently guided him to take more. Before long, Mike was sucking 5" of hard meat. Brian pulled out. "See man how good it is..." he said. "Yeah, it is..." offered the drugged Mike. "Man, cock is so excellent, right?" questioned Brian. "Yeah, man, I just don't know...." Said Mike dreamily. "What dude?" asked Brian. "its just....I don't know.." said Mike. "Dude, you know you love it...look at how boned you are man...Sucking cock is a cool thing for buds to do..You know you want it, right?" said Brian. "Yeah, I guess, it's just that I never did stuff like this before." Replied Mike. "Dude, no problem...lots of dudes suck each other off..very natural thing to do.... Come one, suck a little more, see how good it is." Coached Brian. Mike looked at Brian's cock in front of his face, opened his mouth and let the hard dick enter. Brian moaned with approval. Mike sucked more of Brian's cock into his mouth. He moaned, loving it. Brian just let him get used to it. He let Mike take as much as he wanted. He gentled held his head, as the young stud moved on and off of his meat. "Yeah, that's it dude, suck it good.." sighed Brian. Naturally Mike complied. He knew he wanted it, but was kinda holding back, not sure. Brian just let him suck him some more, getting into it. They kept this up for a few minutes, and then Brian tried to reinforce what Mike was doing. "Fuck dude, that is soo awesome, you like it huh??" asked Brian. Mike let Brian's cock fall out of his mouth. "Yeah..." he said dreamily. "Man, there is nothing so good as a hard cock, right?" asked Brian. "Yeah, way hot..." replied Mike. "Don't ya just love the taste of it....the feel?" quizzed Brian. "Yeah, I do..." replied Mike. "I can tell, look how boned you are man." Brian pointed out the Mike. "Yeah, I guess I do like it..." said the confused Mike. "Looks to me like you love it man.." offered Brian. "Grab hold and stroke it....Look at it man" Mike grabbed Brian's hard cock and stroked it, looking at it. "Yeah, cock is way cool Mike.." said Brian. "Open up and suck it some more man....maybe you'll get lucky, and it will cum for ya." Said Brian. Mike opened up and sucked Brian's cock into his mouth. He was now convinced that he loved cock, after all it did taste good, and he did love cum, right? And it fit so well in his mouth. Yeah, this was right, and good... Mike rocked back and forth on Brian's hard cock. Getting more and more of it. He knew he wanted it now. He was all the way to the dude's pubes. He could feel it at his throat. And yeah, he wanted to taste cum in his mouth. He knew this was right too. Sucking dudes was cool, getting cum was good too. Brian grabbed Mike's head and guided him on and off of his cock. He wanted the dude to do him in long strokes. Mike did not resist. He kept up the pace. "Oh yeah, dude, you're so good..." encouraged Brian. They worked another couple of minutes. Brian knew he was close. He wanted Mike to eat all of his jizz. "Oh dude, getting close man....wanna suck it deep now man.." he told Mike. Mike sucked a little harder, a little deeper. Brian moaned. Mike could feel the cock get bigger and knew he was gonna get jizz soon. His own cock was hard and dripping. Fuck he loved this. Brian pumped a little more, and then he knew it was time. "Oh dude...." He moaned. His first shot, when right down Mike's throat. It kinda caught him be surprise, but he took it. Brian sighed. The next two shots filled Mike's mouth. Brian pulled out and shot again, filling Mike's mouth. "Yeah man, swallow it..." ordered Brian. Mike closed his mouth and let the cum swish around in his mouth, and then swallowed it. Brian deposited two more shots in Mike's mouth. Mike hungrily sucked up the jizz. "Oh fuck man, that was so sweet..." said Brian. Brian's dick was going soft. Mike continued to suck it. "Man, you are soo good, did you love it?" asked Brian. Mike fell back on his knees, looked up at Brian and said: "Yes, I love it..." Brian looked down at his new cocksucker and smiled. "See dude, I knew you would love it...It is so cool to suck cock...you are gonna love sucking Scott, and your team mates. They will love using your hot mouth too..." said Brian. Mike knew he did good and felt good inside. He liked the taste of Brian's cum, and was happy that he was allowed to suck the stud. He couldn't wait for Scott to use him. He wanted his bud to be happy.. "Oh dude, you're so horned up....wanna try Billy's dildo man?" asked Brian. Mike was hard and horned, but never had been fucked or anything like that. "Well, I'm not sure..." he replied tentatively. "Come on dude, it will get you off...you do wanna get off right?" he asked. "Sure, but I've never done anything like that before." Replied Mike. "Trust me dude, you will love this..." smiled Brian. Brian went and got the big black dildo that they had Billy buy. He handed it to Mike with some lube. "This is Billy's favorite" said Brian. "Wow, it's so big..." replied Mike, looking at the dildo. "Aw fuck dude, once it's in, you will love it...trust me.." said Brian. "Lube that bad boy up and lets get started.." instructed Brian. Mike dutifully lubed the cock up. Brian told him to place it at his hole. "Yeah, now push it in gently...get used to it..." he said. Mike did it and moaned as the dildo made it past his ass ring. Brian loved watching Mike pushing the dildo in farther and farther. Naturally all of this was being caught on Brian's tape, which was still running. "that's it dude, more....get it in more..." instructed Brian. Mike continued to run the dildo into his ass. It passed his prostate and he jumped when it hit. "Oh yeah dude, don't you love that?" questioned Brian. "Ooow yeah, fuck it feels so good.." moaned Mike. "Yeah, get more in, and then fuck yourself man..." instructed Brian. By now, Mike had about 6" of hard dildo in his pussy. He started to work it back and forth. He was loving the feeling of the rubber dick. He rocked back and forth, moaning loudly. Brian just offered him all the encouragement he could. "Yeah dude, fuck it man....make it feel good....do it harder....fuck it." He said. Mike did that and more. He moaned loudly as the dildo kept hitting his button. "Yeah, don't it feel great..." offered Brian. Mike couldn't believe how hot he felt. His cock was huge and dripping precum. He felt really good as the dick in his ass kept hitting his button. "Yeah dude, lick up that precum man, don't wanna waste any." Instructed Brian. Mike reach down with his hand and scooped up huge amounts of pre and licked it off of his hands. Yeah, he loved precum. He lustfully was fucking himself on the dildo. "Don't it feel good Mike, big cock in your pussy?" questioned Brian. "Oh yeah....good...." moaned Mike. "It is so excellent to have cock in your pussy..." reinforced Brian. "Yeah..." moaned Mike. "Think how excellent it will be to have Scott or Matt, or your buds fucking your hole man..." said Brian. "MMHHH, yeah..." moaned Mike. "Make you wanna cum right??" asked Brian. "Oh yeah...." Moaned Mike. "Then do it man, cum all over, cum like a whore..." ordered Brian. So Mike just shuttered as he shot a huge load of jizz all over himself. He moaned and he shoot more than 7 huge squirts of boy cum. He almost passed out the orgasm, it was so intense. "Eat that cum man..." ordered Brian. Mike dutifully complied as he stuck his hands in each pile of teen sperm, and then put it to his mouth. "This is the best man, you love having your pussy fucked and love to service buds like this, right?" asked Brian. Mike moaned..."Yeah, I love it..." "Just remember how much you wanna please your buds, and then do it man...." Said Brian. "Oh yeah...." Said Mike....Then he laid back with cum on his lips and in his mouth and all over him, and fell asleep. Brian smiled, and let the stud sleep, check the camera, and smiled. He couldn't wait to tell Matt........

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-3

Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2001 20:25:36 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: little-brothers-sex slave, part 3 The next day at school I saw Alan. "Hey, wanna come over after school?" I asked. "We gonna be alone?" he said. "Yeah, Matt's got practice till about 5, so we should be cool." I replied. "OK, see you after school." he said and took off for his next class. I couldn't wait for the end of the day. After all, Matt had not let me cum or even play with myself last night. I saw Alan in the parking lot and we got in my car and took off. On the way, we stopped at McDonalds for some burgers. I was really getting horned by the time we got home. "C'mon, I wanna show you our new room!" I said, as I took a left to the basement. "Wow, this is cool," said Alan. "Yeah, it was Matt's idea, but it is nice. Look at all the room we got, plus a bigger bathroom, and a sliding glass door to outside. "I don't trust Matt," said Alan. "Yeah, I know, sometimes, it's hard to figure him out, but my parents believe everything he says." I replied. "Yeah, but when he found me with you last week, I detected a little blackmail coming on." he said. I didn't want to tell him how right he was. "He's cool man. As long as I don't 'fag out' on his bed." I replied. Alan just grunted a reply. He started to take off his clothes, so did I. Pretty soon we were naked. "Fuck dude, I'm so horned, I could bust." I said. "Me too..." he replied. He approached me and started to kiss me. He ran his hands over my chest and stomach. My cock was rock hard as he grabbed it and I moaned. "Oh yeah, dude, that feels sooo good.." I said. Alan was not overly aggressive but he was definitely leading the way. I grabbed at him and touched his hot meat. 'OOOOHHHH...." he moaned. We fell on my bed and jumped into a 69. We both had mouths full of cock and were humping like sex starved teens. We sucked each other for about 5 minutes and then both exploded into each other's mouths. After, we just lay there, exhausted. "Man, I can't believe how horny I was..." I remarked. "You suck real good dude....." he replied. "Hey, you don't do too bad yourself." I remarked. "Yeah, we just a bunch of fags." he laughed. I laughed too, but I knew it was sooo true. "Hey, you see Jason lately?" Alan asked me. "No, just school, you?" I asked "Yeah, last weekend, I stayed over his house on Saturday. We....uuhh..had a party." He replied. "A party?" I asked. "Well, with his older brother, yeah...."" He said. "What happened?" I asked. "You know his brother is in college, right, I think he's 19 or something. He came home for the weekend. Jason didn't know, otherwise, I guess he would not have invited me. But we got stoned on a little pot that he scored. We were in his room all high and his bro comes in. Naturally he smelled the pot and started to cross-examine us. He was so fucked up, he was stupid. His bro could see that we were horned up, so he started to ask us questions." "Like what?" I asked. "Like if we sucked each other?" "Did we fuck?" "Who did we do?" "How many times?" "Where?" "Stuff like that." He said "Oh fuck, did you guys come clean?" I asked. "Yeah, we had to....he was getting a little physical." "Wow" I replied. "So what happened?" I asked "Well, needless to say, we ended up naked in front of the dude. Any Bill, he was so hot, standing there watching us strip for him. I could see his cock bulge so clearly. He is one hot dude." Said Alan. "Oh fuck man, that is sooo hot." I said. "I think Jason must have done his bro lots of times before, from the way he was talking. I can understand it a little, he is so hot. But man, he bro can be so demanding." He said. "So what happened?" I asked "We both had to suck him off. One on one side of his cock, one on the other. I think he liked being sucked off by 2 high school dudes. Man, he let us suck him for, like, hours before cumming. And what a load. Huge. Jizz everywhere." He said. "You guys swallow for him?" I asked "Fuck yeah, it was awesome." Replied Alan "What else happened?" I asked. "For the whole fucking weekend, we serviced the dude. And he made us suck and fuck each other. For like amusement, I think. He even took some pictures of us doing him and each other. " he said. "Oh fuck! Evidence." I said. "We didn't care at that point." Said Alan "You're making me horny dude..." I said. "MMMMHHHH, wanna fuck boy?" he asked with a wicked grin on his face. "Yeh, I do.." I replied. "Doggie man, get on all fours..." He ordered. I got on my bed on all fours, and stuck my ass out for him. My bone was full up and I was ready for him. He came up in back of me, and rubbed my ass, then slapped me. "Hey!" I shouted. "Shut up cunt..." he chided. He stuck his finger in my hole, and rubbed it around. "Yeah" I sighed. I looked around and could see his hard cock ready to invade my hole. He grabbed my hips and not so gently, rammed his hard meat up my ass! "Oh baby... nice pussy!" "Oh yeah, fuck me man, do it!" I replied. He started to pump in and out on my ass. It was so hot, the way he could make me feel like a pussy. And I loved it. I loved the feel of his hot meat in my ass, making me his bitch. I lost myself in the feeling of the moment and started to moan like a bitch. "OOOHHHH, Alan.... Yeah, man, do me....." I moaned. He pumped in and out faster. "Yeah, take it cunt...." He said. "Oh yeah..." I moaned. Every once in a while, he would whack my ass. It stung but felt real good at the same time. Sometimes, he would pull out to the rim, and leave his cock there. Almost out, but not quite. "OOOHHH, please, fuck me man...." I begged And I would push back onto his cock to get it in my ass more. Then he would reward me, by pushing it all the way in to his balls. Sometimes real hard. He fucked me for about 15 minutes, and then yelled as he pulled out and shot a big load on my back. Some of it was dripping down my ass crack. He rubbed his cum all around my back and ass. "Nice..." was all he said. "Hey dude, I gotta go.... see you latter...K?" he said as he was getting cleaned up. "Yeah, maybe we can get together over Thanksgiving, huh?" I asked. "Naw, we're going away for the week...Florida.." he replied. "Cool, see you after break then." I said. "Have a good holiday man...." He said as he left. I just lie there, content from having my dick sucked and being fucked by Alan. I really liked that dude. My cock was still hard, so I reached down and started to play with it. Soon, I was rubbing it like crazy. Man, it felt good. I kept thinking of Alan, pounding my ass. Then of Jason sucking off his older brother. I wish I were that older brother. Then I thought of Matt. Harder body, younger, aggressive. He was most of what I wanted to be but wasn't. I thought of Jason and Alan, sucking his brother's dick. One on one side, one on the other. Two hot studs making love to hard dick. Wow!! I couldn't help it, I came in huge spurts. All over my chest and stomach. Some even went on my chin. I took my finger and scooped up a little of my cream and ate it. MMMHHH I thought. I do love the taste of cum!! After I settled down a bit, I got up and went to the bathroom for a nice long shower. While showering, I thought about Matt and the situation that had developed. I really was starting to resent him and his attitude. I figured that I had better start to fight him; otherwise, he might turn me into a real sex slave. Up to now, it had been kinda fun. Kinky, but fun. But I could see how something like this could get out of hand. I figured I better nip this thing in the bud. I got dressed and started to do some homework. About an hour latter, Matt came in, throwing his stuff around. "Hey bud..." he said mockingly. "Hi Matt" I replied softly "See Alan today?" he asked "Yeah, he was here." I replied "You guys didn't fag out on my bed did you??" he demanded as he looked around. "Fuck you!" I said "Be the best fuck you'd ever have," he said with a smirk on his face. "Bet you probably never even fucked any body, chick or dude." He continued. "I have to......" I said. "You're just a cocksucker fag boy. What chick you ever fuck?" he demanded. "None of your business." I said. "Bet you put out for Alan thought, huh?" he asked. "I'm telling you Matt, you better stop this shit now!" I yelled at him. "Or what fag?" he pressed. I was definitely getting pissed. He was taunting me, and I thought, it's now or never. So I got up from my desk and approached him. "Or this........" I clenched my fist and tried to punch him. He easily defected my punch and pushed me forward. As I got up from the floor, he kicked me in the crotch. I flew up and punched him right in the stomach. He fell back onto his bed and I lunged at him. I wrestled him around a bit, and tried to punch him more. I landed a few punches, but he was the jock, so he got more on me. Finally he had me pinned on the floor. "Give up fag?" he taunted. "Fuck you Matt!" I yelled. He slapped my face hard a couple of times. "Well??" he demanded. I just stared at him, defiantly. "Wanna suck me off gay boy?" he taunted. "No!" I said. "I can feel you hard cock at my ass dude...I know you want it" he taunted. "I do not......and I'm never going to suck you again!" I yelled. "Rather suck Alan?" he asked. "Let me up." I demanded. "Not till you suck me man." He said I struggle some more, trying to push him off of me. He was just too strong. "You keep this shit up dude, and I'm going to have to spank you!" said Matt. "Fuck you Matt!" I yelled. He struggle and pulled me up and as I fought him, he managed to undo my jeans and pull my pants down. I continued to fight him, but he got me over his knees, holding my head down. "Ready fag?" he taunted. "Fuck you!" I yelled. He hauled off and started to whack my ass. He saw that there were already a couple of red handprints from Alan. "Some one been here before, huh?? Who was it?? Alan??" he demanded. "None of your business!" I yelled. He hit me again. And again, and again. Pretty soon, he had 12 good whacks on my ass. He was pretty aggressive with his hitting, and it hurt a lot. I started to cry. "Come on Matt, please stop..." I said. "You just don't fucking get it do ya? You are here to take care of my needs. I think you forget that like the dumb twat you are. You just never learn do ya?" he said as he whacked me again. "Come on Matt, this shouldn't be like this. I don't wanna suck you anymore. Now let me up." I said. "What can you do about it?" he answered with his cocky grin. "Who's gonna believe you?" he asked. "I can't do this anymore Matt. I just can't.." I stammered. "We'll see......" he said and dumped me on the floor. He stood up and stripped out of his clothes and then casually strode to the shower. He took a long one, and by the time he was done, Dad and Mom were home. Things were pretty quite at dinner. Latter, I was alone in the room, and then Matt came down. "See ya latter, sucker!" he smirked as he left. I didn't say anything, but turned on the TV. About half an hour latter, Dad came down. "I want to talk to you." he said, in a very stern voice. "Sure Dad." I replied. "Matt said that Alan was over this afternoon?" he asked. "Yeah, he came over after school." I replied. "Well, Bill, I don't really know how to have this conversation with you.... Matt told me he came in and saw Alan 'slapping' your ass........." he said. "No Dad, it wasn't Alan, it was Matt that did that!" I protested. "Come on Bill, you expect me to believe that your own brother would do that. Matt told me that he thinks that you and Alan have done more than that. Is that right??" he asked. I guess I must have turned red, because, he just stared at me with a disgusted look on his face. "You know, Bill, we try very hard to give you boys everything you need for a good life. I know it's hard, not being home a lot, but we both have to work very hard to provide for the family. I don't think its fair to us, to have to worry about the gay influence of someone like Alan. You really ought to strive to be more like your brother. He's active in sports, and has a nice clean circle of friends. " "But Dad, it's not like that, really..." I protested. "Well then, just how is it young man."? He demanded. "Alan and I are just friends. We don't do any gay things. How come I don't get to have my own friends?" I said. "Stand up and drop your pants!" he said. "Dad!!" I protested. "Do it!" he yelled. I slowly stood up and undid my pants and dropped em. I was so embarrassed. "Turn around." He ordered. I did and he saw my red ass. "I don't ever want to see Alan over here again. He is no longer welcomed in this house. Furthermore, it is very apparent, that you have way too much time on your hands. I want you to go back to work at McDonalds next week. And I'm taking your car away for 2 weeks. If I ever hear of any thing like this going on again, you will be more severely punished." He said. "Dad, please, don't do this." I whimpered. I hate working at McDonalds. And I really need my car for getting around." "These are all privileges that you have abused young man." "Until I'm satisfied that this little episode is behind us, you will comply." He said sternly. I couldn't help it, I started to cry. I knew that Matt was behind this. He was trying to prove his dominance over me. "This is Matt's fault," I blurted out. "Its your own fault and you know it." Yelled my father. "I don't want to hear you trying to blame your brother. Act your age for God's sake!" he admonished. "Its not fair." I yelled. "Grow up Bill for Christ's sake!" he yelled and stormed out of the room. My whole life was falling apart and it was my stupid brother that caused it. I hated him and his jock attitude, but what could I do. I sat there crying trying to figure it out. I knew I would have no luck trying to convince my father that I was being set up. Matt had done it. He made up the story about me, and sold it to Dad. And he bought it. He always bought Matt's story. I couldn't figure a way out of this whole mess. I lay on my bed weeping for myself, dreading when Matt would come home. I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to hear Matt coming in. He just looked over at me with that stupid Jock grin. "Hey fag...what's up?" "You know what's up, you set me up with Dad." I stammered. "Hey fag, you set yourself up. Instead of doing what you're told, no you have to protest and call my hand. Well, how'd it work out.?" He asked. "I can't see Alan any more. I got to go back to McDonalds to work, and he pulled my car for 2 weeks." I replied. "That all??" he asked. I looked over at him, hating him. "Dude, come over here and give me a blow job, huh?" he said real smugly. I got up off the bed, resigned to do what he wanted me to. "Strip first." He ordered. "I like seeing you naked." He said. I slowly started to take my clothes off, just like he wanted me to. Thanks for the emails. I intend to keep this story going for a while. Let me know how you like it. Hotboybilly45@hotmail.com

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/slave-and-his-master

Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2001 17:06:18 EDT From: Slavecrw@aol.com Subject: A slave meets his MASTER The following is a true story about an adventurous change in a relationship between two friends. It was initially written by the slave for the enjoyment of his Master. It is now posted, with the Masters permission, for the enjoyment of others. I hope you enjoy it. Send your comments to slavecrw@aol.com DISCIPLINE AND RESTRAINT A slaves STORY: MEETING HIS MASTER Rick and I started as acquaintances, became friends, what you may call an emerging relationship. Rick and I had known each other for 10 years before either one of us realized that there was something much stronger than just a friendship between us. We were living in different cities and I had gone to visit Rick. On the first morning of my visit Rick comes into my room to wake me up and let me know that the coffee was almost ready. As he leaves he gives me a magazine and tells me to read an article, the magazine is CheckMate and the article spells out a discipline scene between two work out partners. We had met in a gym and working out had always been an activity we shared as partners. I was a little taken back by the article and thought maybe it was just Ricks attempt at some humor. Later that morning, we are in Ricks home gym working out. As Rick walked away from the bench, I reach over and smacked his ass. "Ouch" he exclaims, "what was that for......". I responded that I was just showing that I had read the article and asked when the discipline was going to start. Needless to say it did not take long as I was immediately ordered to strip. Where upon Rick gets some rope and ties me to the bench face down and starts whipping my ass with a rawhide strap. Then he unties me only to tie me up again to the multipurpose rack, tying me in an X. With my arms stretched taunt. While in this position and blindfolded, Rick proceeds to shave all my body hair , which was considerable and my crotch. I am now naked, shaved and strapped in. Much nipple pinching and biting took place, as well as more licks with the rawhide strap. Being that I was in no way prepared for what was happening, my head started to swim and I quickly felt myself going south. The next thing I know I am laying on the bench and Rick is wiping my face with a cool cloth. I had fainted from the lack of blood in my upper extremities. But Rick explained that a good Master takes care of his slave. Master and slave, new terms to me. But ones I would never forget. After a break for lunch (food for strength and endurance), Rick ties me up again, this time kneeling over the bench with my ass high in the air. Rick starts playing with my ass and it feels like he is putting ice cubes up my crack. I soon realize that it is not ice, but an enema tube.... I had been shorn, now it was time to clean me out. Rick takes me in to shit and then ties me up in the bathroom for another enema, this one with red wine. A "bottoms up" cocktail, another first. Rick had obviously put a lot of though and planning into this visit.. That night Rick tied me to my bed, also taking the time to tie rawhide around my hard cock and balls. He insures I cannot play with my self and instructs me that I had better have a hardon when he comes for me in the morning. With that he greases himself up and whacks out a load all over me. His nuts must have been full because it was like an eruption. The next morning Rick came to wake me up and as ordered, I had a hardon of great proportions, but it was useless. It was not to be tamed I was. Before untiing me Rick takes out a leather strap and criss-crosses my body with it. My newly shorn chest is now red with welts. Once untied I am again marched to the bathroom and tied to the commode to watch Rick take a shower and shave and again spew a load of cum, me just sitting there unable to get to my cock or to Ricks. Later untied, I get to shower, but under my masters watchful eye to insure that I do not get to enjoy a release of my very full nuts. That night the tables are turned. Rick finds himself bound. We had been wresting on the floor and I got the advantage and pinned Rick. With his rope nearby I quickly hog tied him for a while. Time for my revenge as I got the leather strap and tanned his ass as red as my chest had been earlier that morning. When I turned Rick over, I was greater by the biggest erection I had ever seen. Rick obviously enjoyed both sides of the Master - slave relationship. I started massaging his nuts and he groaned, I started stroking his cock and it did not take long before his groans turned to moans and then he again released a load of cum. As I started to stroke myself, Rick begged me not to cum myself, insuring me that he had something special planned and he did not want me to cum, so I didn't. I untied him and we proceeded to my room, me fully thinking that Rick would again tie me to my bed, but instead, I tied Rick to my bed and then climbed in and slept next to his warm body. My hot cock was dripping pre-cum on his side all night. On the final morning of my visit, it was time for a final gym workout. Rick worked me hard with repeated sets of pushups, dips and crunches. Super sets of 20 repetitions each with no rest, after about five rounds I was wasted, Rick again strips me and puts me over his lap for a spanking. I had done good, but I could have done better. Twenty licks with his palm for the final 20 reps I should have done, my ass was on fire and my cock was fully extended. My Master told me that I had been a good and deserving slave during my visit and that it was time for my reward, With this Rick tied me to the roman chair, giving him easy access to my front and backside, he slowly starts to pluck hairs off my back creating a hot tingling sensation. My cock by now is dancing and dripping. Rick gets a can of crisco and a carrot, greases up the carrot and slides it in my ass, he then puts on a rubber glove and greases it up and starts fondling my cock, what a wild sensation, a carrot up my ass and a warm hand wrapped around my cock, it was now my turn to empty out my nuts and I did it shot after shot. Rick too let loose and my body was covered in a mixture of his cum and mine. That night we again slept in my bed, but nobody was tied, instead we slept in each others arms, talking about what a great visit it had been and how we would have to get together again soon. Since then we have been together many times, sometimes at my place sometimes at Ricks and even taking some vacations together and exploring some B&D scenes in larger cities on both the east and west coasts. In between visits we talk frequently on the phone and we exchange letters, usually detailing what we have planned for each other during our next visit.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/

Nifty Archive: black-mans-white-pussyboy SizeDateFilename 24KFeb 11 20:53black-mans-white-pussyboy-6 15KNov 25 15:37black-mans-white-pussyboy-5 17KSep 16 16:15black-mans-white-pussyboy-4 16KAug 24 22:33black-mans-white-pussyboy-3 15KMar 6 2001black-mans-white-pussyboy-2 24KJan 30 2001black-mans-white-pussyboy-1

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder/training-a-himbo-bodybuilder-15

Date: Tue, 27 Feb 2024 03:54:04 +0000 (UTC) From: Tony Carbone Subject: Training a Himbo Bodybuilder - Chapter 15 TRAINING A HIMBO BODYBUILDER -- CHAPTER 15 NEW EMAIL: Bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com This story is fiction and based on consensual DOM/sub sex between men. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. It's copyrighted 2023 with all rights reserved outside of Nifty. Synopsis: This story is about a naïve young himbo (male bimbo), Joey Carbone, with aspirations to become a pro bodybuilder and fitness model. After his father sends Joey to his old college trainer/friend, the boy learns how the male testosterone hormone, combined with muscle enhancing drugs, will build his body to huge proportions. The Coach forbids the boy to have an orgasm and insists that Joey wear chastity cage. The naïve dumb boy just obeys his trainer, hoping to become a professional bodybuilder and model. In this chapter, Joey understands that he has to be a faggot now in order to get the testosterone needed to win his bodybuilding contest. After losing his first competition, his coach realizes, in this chapter, that Joey has other talents. He makes a plan, with a "talent agent" for Joey to not only become a bodybuilding star but porn star as well. The boy has learned to be submissive and obedient with the coach keeping him dazed with drugs and loaded with sperm. The story involves the use of MM/M bdsm sex, humiliation, bondage, chastity, cum control, spanking, oral and anal sex. From the Author: When I write, I like to take time getting deeper into the plot to create the right visual. There will be sex in every chapter but some more extreme than others. I like the "power exchange" between two men where one dominant alpha completely controls the willing submissive beta. No, all men are NOT created egual. I have other stories here on NIFTY and will list them at the end of each chapter. My goal is to make YOU have great orgasms so Please share your thoughts. IMPORTANT: DONATE DONATE DONATE PLEASEEEEEE Keep this great site going and donate to http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER 15 (This chapter is written from Joey's perspective) Even though I lost the competition, Coach Doyle said he was receiving emails and voice messages asking if I would be interested in modeling and doing some acting. I was elated and couldn't wait to start. The coach said that some talent agents were very impressed with my unique performance and muscle body on stage. He said they offered several job possibilities that would incorporate my unique posing routine and modeling at the same time. This had given the Coach ideas on how to make some money back while I was still competing. My dad knew that we were in debt to the Coach and that I should work to pay him back. "Boy, this process has been expensive for your Coach and this is something you should do to pay him back for everything he has done to help you." I knew he was right but didn't know what type of jobs I had to do to repay the Coach. I was hoping it would involve me taking more sperm hormones because I wanted to get ready for the next competition. I would do anything it takes to win this upcoming competition. Two weeks had passed since I became a muscle faggot for my Coach. I was now working full time at the gym. I was living in the Coach's basement. My paycheck went directly to the Coach to pay for my room and board. He said that working at the gym would make my hormone injections easier and more often. He would give me a sperm injection each morning when I woke before a started my shift at the gym's front desk. I was also given a special vitamin each morning that the coach said would "help me focus on men and muscle". After taking the pills, everything actually seemed slightly unfocused for me but as long as I followed the Coach, I knew I was doing the right thing. It also seemed to make my little clit, as the coach called it, swollen and horny most of the day. On certain days, the doctor would check on my progress too. Coach said it was important for me to stay focused on my goals and simply do as I am told by him and the doctor. Coach was right. After each session with the doctor, I felt better and stronger and knew I would become a winner. I was now sleeping in the cage regularly at night too. Coach said I was sleep walking and the cage would keep me safe. I didn't realize I was doing that but knew that I should just obey him because weird things were happening in my brain anyway. It was just easier for me to let the Coach make all my decisions and he knew best. Coach said he wanted to help me build a perfect body, and ass, to make men want to give me their hormone. The bigger my ass was, the more men would want to fuck me and give me their hormone. I did squats twice a week and several glute exercises as ordered by Coach. He said the more hormone I ingest, the bigger my ass would get too. I was working the front reception desk, in my spandex uniform as usual, when the coach walked in and, depending on the day, would call me into his office. I knew the drill and crawled under his desk as he answered his emails. I reached into his pants to let his cock soak in my mouth while he worked. He pushed me away with his feet as he stood up. I immediately stood and bent over the desk to prepare for my injection. He unceremoniously fucked me through the hole in my spandex shorts, and deposited his cum inside me. I focused on holding still, without making noise, while he pummeled my hole. After, he said, "Good boy," and walked into his private bathroom. I didn't need to dress because I usually wore my cum stained shorts all day. I made sure to plug my hole, as usual, in order to keep the precious hormone inside me. I went back to the front desk as though nothing happened. Later that day, after my workout, I was called back into his office. I knew that I wasn't supposed to shower unless the Coach allowed it and I was still sweaty with perspiration. I knew that I smelled very ripe too but that was normal for me. As I walked in, there were three men who were seated on the sofa in his office who stared at me as I walked in. One was my father, one was my black bodybuilder nemesis Cliff, and the third was a stranger. Dr. Corrigan was standing next to the coach at his desk. "Hello boy," Coach said as he pointed to my spandex shorts. "Hello Sir," I replied and then nodded to my dad and stared at the men sitting there. The Coach pointed to my shorts again. "Boy?" He said as he wiggled his finger. I knew what he meant. I slowly removed the spandex shorts and dropped them to the chair, standing there only in my sweat and cum stained pink gstring. I was no longer caged because I had learned to never touch myself without permission. My cock was always throbbing, half hard, inside the sheer pouch because I was rarely allowed to cum and my balls were full as usual. "You know my friends here faggot, don't you?" Coach said, "Your daddy of course and your biggest cum donor, Cliff. I'd like you to meet Mr. Kolbly. He is interested in learning more about that little accident you had on the stage in front of all those people, during your first competition Joey." I bowed my head because I knew I was bad and unable to control myself. "Don't worry boy," Mr. Kolby spoke up. "I think we may be able to offer you an opportunity of employment. Would you like that?" I looked at the coach confused because I really didn't understand what he was saying. "He is interested in hiring you as a model, faggot. " Coach said. I was so excited that I felt like jumping up and down but knew I had to act professional. "Come here boy." Mr. Kolby said to me. The doctor guided me to stand in front of the man. Mr. Kolby looked at the coach and said, "May I Coach?" I looked at the coach and saw him nodding. "Of course" he said. Mr. Kolby then reached up and felt Joey's bulging gstring pouch. Joey was getting harder by the minute as he displayed himself in front of the men. "Do you like showing us your beautiful body boy?" Mr. Kolby asked me. I nodded. "Do you like when a man touches you son?" I nodded again. "You have a beautiful son Mr. Carbone," Mr. Kolby said to my father. "He looks like a winner to me." "Flex for the men faggot." Coach ordered. I turned to the men and began flexing through my poses for them. "Yes, he is huge" Mr. Kolby said, "its only a matter of time before he takes the title." I was thrilled to hear that as I kept turning and flexing. My daddy was beaming with pride as he watched me. "There has been a lot of chatter about your unique display at the last competition boy," Mr. Kolby said, "and I am here to offer you a proposition based on your performance from that show." Again, I was confused but I kept posing. "Hold up faggot," Coach ordered, "I don't believe you even gave your father a proper hello boy." I immediately went to my dad and kissed him on the lips. "I said a proper hello boy." Coach said, "after all he is a very special man to you, isnt' he?" My dad grabbed my face and pushed his tongue into my mouth. We exchanged saliva for a few minutes before I stepped back toward the Coach. "Good boy. Good faggot." Coach said. I looked at the Coach and turned bright red that he call me a faggot in front of everyone. I knew I was a faggot for now, but it was still difficult for me to hear it. Dr Corrigan spoke up after noticing my embarrassment. "Don't worry Joey," the doctor said, "you need to be a faggot now. You know that. You need the male sperm inside you to help build muscle growth, right?" I nodded. "Speak up boy." The coach yelled. "Yes sir" I said loudly. "Yes Sir, what?" Coach asked "yes Sir, I know that I need to be a faggot to get the sperm hormone that I need for more muscle." "Good boy." Coach calmed down. "Don't worry, you're not gay boy, just a faggot." The doctor continued, "You love and need cum boy. Faggots love and need cum. So it makes sense that you will be treated like a faggot because you are one. Don't worry about being a faggot boy." The doctor walked to Joey and felt his ass as he spoke. "Think about it. In here, we are all athletes. We understand the importance of male hormone. You are very lucky Joey. Not only do you have a constant supply of cum here, but you are also in the only place where men understand that need. We understand that all that cum will make you a great bodybuilder and that is why you are swallowing and taking their sperm in your faggot cunt too." "No one here thinks your gay boy." Coach said, "No need worry about why you love cum. We all understand why, so there is no need feel embarrassed about being a faggot." Coach came to my face and looked into my eyes. "You love cum, right boy?" He asked. I nodded yes. "So you love cock because that's where the cum comes from." I nodded again. "Say it faggot." Coach demanded. "I love cocks because they give me cum." I said looking directly at the coach. "Good fucking faggot." Coach said. "Cocks are also fun to play with aren't they faggot. Why don't you go over there and show us how you play with your Daddy's cock. It has so much pure male hormone ready to feed you faggot." As I walked to my dad, he lifted up his ass and slid his pants down around his ankles. I could see he was already hard and throbbing. "Don't think boy. Faggots have men like us to think for you. Now lick the tip of Daddy's cock. The men here want to watch how grateful you are for his cum. You don't have much time and you have to learn to suck out their cum as quickly as possible. That means you have to swallow the entire cock into your throat faggot." I listened to the Coach as I sucked my dad. I know I'm doing a good job cause my dad is moaning now. I put one hand around the base and the other hand around his balls as I sucked as deep as possible. "Work hard on that dick fag and you will get your reward that you need. Now, sometimes a real man might not want to give you his hormone in your throat. He may have a different idea and want to cum all over your face. It's not up to you to choose and you have to be willing to take his load any way he chooses to give it to you." I listened as I suck and tried to nod. "He may ask you to open your mouth coz he's about to cum. You do that. You show him your tongue. You look him in the eyes, coz now you can't speak." I did as I was told, looking up at my father. "Now, through your eyes, you show him how happy and grateful you are. Place your daddy's cock head carefully on your tongue and jerk him off. You do that slowly now coz you don't want his dick shaking and spraying cum everywhere. That's offensive. You want to take all that precious cum into your mouth." "Im gonna cum on the boy Mike." Frank moaned and grabbed his cock. "Spray the boy's face Frank." Coach ordered, "he needs to know his place." All six spurts of thick, dense cum sprayed on my mouth, nose, eyes and hair. I opened my mouth as the rest of the cum dripped into it. I knew that I should not swallow until given permission. "Good boy faggot." Coach said. "You see how he doesn't swallow unless I give him permission. I think this is a good lesson for the boy, don't you gentlemen?" The men agreed as they pulled down their pants. Cliff was next. I knelt on the floor between those huge black thighs and leaned in to suck him. "No faggot," Cliff said as he gently, but firmly, pushed my head back with his finger tips. "I don't want that cum on me." I remained kneeling and looked at the coach. He just smiled at me and said, "You do whatever the alpha says and be thankful he is giving you his precious muscle cum." It was difficult to keep my mouth open without swallowing. I watched Cliff jerking off just inches from my sperm covered face. "So horny," Cliff said, "This is gonna be quick faggot. Now open up." I opened my mouth and tried to aim his cock head downward into it to get his hormone. After it sprayed one shot directly into my throat, Cliff grabbed his cock and moved it up so that the cum squirts hit my eyes and nose. I remained kneeling, with cum all over my face, and waited for the coach to give me something to wipe it off. I didn't know what to do and just knelt there with cum dripping down my face. Like Coach said, I could no longer think for myself. "Stand up boy," Coach said, "and don't touch the cum on your face." It was difficult to see as I walked so the doctor grabbed my arm to guide me toward the Coach. He led me to the coach's desk and pushed me over the top with my ass pointing towards the men on the sofa. The Coach kicked my feet apart and casually spread my ass cheeks open, exposing my asshole. I just knew I should stay quiet and follow his lead. "Don't get any cum on my desk faggot." Coach said as he slapped my ass. He continued, "As you can see gentlemen," Coach said, "there is no prostate stimulation inside him now. I would like to show you what happened during his first competition when his prostate is stimulated." He slowly pushed a medium sizes dildo into my cunt hole. I tried to stay quiet as it stretched my hole. Finally I felt my ass close around the butt plug. He pulled me to a standing position facing the men now. I didn't speak and remained obedient. The dildo felt huge. The coach pulled my cock out of the pink pouch. I was not wearing a cage. Surprisingly, he put a cock ring around my cock and balls. Instantly, I felt the blood begin to rush into my cock. The coach quickly pushed my cock back inside the pouch before I could get fully hard. I could feel my growing hardness as my cock stretched the stretchy pouch to the limit. "Now be a good boy and show Mr. Kolby how you show off that muscle body." I stood back up and walked in front of Mr. Kolby. Cum was still dripping down my face. I began my routine, flexing every muscle group. "I want you to show him how I taught you to be very sexy while posing boy." The coach said as he rubbed my naked ass. He slid his fingers into my crack and pushed the butt plug deeper inside me. "Did you take your pills today faggot?" Coach asked me. "Yes Sir." I replied with my brain now in a fog. "Good boy." Coach said, "by now you should be feeling very sexy right boy? Show me how sexy you are boy." Coach said, "you're better than the other bodybuilders, aren't you boy? You're sexier than they are. You want to show these men how sexy you are and how much you want their precious hormone." Suddenly, I felt the buzzing. The plug began to vibrate like it did during my first competition. I was becoming so horny. The pills and the buzzing in my ass made my cock throb as it stretched the pouch. I could feel myself leaking now, dripping precum into the thin material. I began to grind my pelvis in circles as I flexed my muscle hard. The movement made me feel the vibrator pushing harder against my prostate. My head was spinning. My cock was hard and leaking packed inside the pink thong. As I was posing in front of Mr. Kolby, the Coach was speaking but I wasn't listening anymore. I was in my own erotic space now. "Gentlemen," he said, "the secret ingredient is the male hormone testosterone. Our boy needs to ingest the hormone, organic sperm, into his body either orally or anally. This extra hormone is undetectable with conventional steroid screening, so this is the extra ingredient that will make Joey a winner. Joey here, understands that he needs this hormone to gain muscle size." Everyone, including Mr. Kolby, had their cocks out now again, and were rubbing themselves, "Joey," Coach continued, "has several men from the Hormone Therapy Club, including Cliff here, who inject him regularly. This extra hormone is what has given our faggot the boost needed to win his next competition." The coach walked over closer to Joey. "I think Mr. Kolby is interested in your special talent faggot." I wasn't sure what he was referring too but remember during the competition I lost my sperm inside my pink posers. That was so humiliating for me for that to happen in front of everyone. "I have kept the boy loaded with sperm," coach continued, "and without allowing him to ejaculate himself. This, combined with the drugs, will have his hormone levels overloaded to the point of no return." He turned to me. "You remember what happened in front of all those people when you couldn't control yourself boy?" "Yes Sir," I replied, "Im sorry sir, I didn't want...." "No boy!" Coach yelled over me. "What happened at the end of your routine is what interests Mr. Kolby. I want you to do your posing routine just like in the competition faggot." He turned to Mr. Kolby. "Please watch Joey now. His balls are over full. His posing, and dancing routine, has the vibrator pressing into his prostate but he will not be able to release his own cum without permission." The vibrations became more intense inside his asshole. I couldn't concentrate on anything except that glorious feeling and my own cock throbbing and rubbing against the silky soft material of my sheer nylon posing thong. I was unconsciously grinding my pelvis lewdly in front of Mr. Kolby, almost sticking my throbbing cock into his face as he sat on the sofa. "It does look like the boy is reaching the point of no return and this, gentlemen, is what makes him so markable as an exotic muscle model." "Flex harder boy." Coach ordered the boy as he slapped his ass. He touched a button on the remote and Joey felt the vibrator inside him go into overdrive. He almost collapsed. "OHhhhhh, fuck" Joey groaned. He could feel his cock leaking precum now. "Watch the mouth boy," Coach said, "In fact don't make any noise at all. These men want to see your unique muscle display and how obedient you are. Look at their cocks and how hard they are for you boy." I saw the men pulling on their cocks and stoking them as I grinded his pelvis to push his cock forward into the thin pouch. I wanted those cocks to breed me. Fuck their sperm into my hole and give me the hormone I desperately needed now. I was so horny and needed to cum. "Don't lose your hormone boy." Dr. Corrigan said as he read my mind, "You know you must wait until the coach gives you permission to cum." I looked at the coach with pleading eyes, hoping he would say it was OK to cum. "Ohhhhhh" Joey softly groaned as he flexed through his routine. "He seems to be very well trained Mike." Mr. Kolby said as he watched me and played with his own cock. "Flex harder boy." The coach ordered as he slapped his ass again. "Look at you. Your face is covered with cum and you're dancing like a drunken whore." I knew what I must have looked like but I didn't care. It felt so good to dance with the vibrator buzzing inside me. "I want you to kneel down in front of Mr. Kolby and smell his cock. Lick the head and get some of that hormone leaking out of it." Joey knelt down, keeping his as raised up to show the men how badly he needed to cum. After licking Mr. Kolby's cock, I looked at the Coach "Stand faggot." Coach ordered. He walked toward me and put clamps on each of my nipples connected by a weighted chain. It pulled my nipples downward and only increased my need to orgasm. Then, out of no where, as he held Joey by the back of his neck, he placed a very small vibrator into the front of his pouch. "Dance faggot," Coach said as he stepped back, "flex those muscle and do a sexy dance for the men." "Ohhhh Coach," I groaned because I knew it would be impossible to hold my cum back. I have never felt the need to orgasm as much as this moment. I knew it would be awful if I lost control in front of these men but also knew it would be impossible at this point to hold it any longer. I looked at the coach, begging him with my eyes, to allow me to cum. I groaned while I pleaded with my eyes. "Pleasssssssse Sir," I saidly softly "My faggot needs to cum gentlemen." Coach said to the men. "Put your hands behind your head and flex your biceps." Coach ordered, "Move your butt like you're fucking your bitch girlfriend." Fuck. I loved it. I started pumping my pelvis in front of Mr. Kolby's face like I was fucking my girlfriend, only inches away from his mouth. I was no longer in the real world. I was in a dream land state of cock. My brain was spinning into a web of horniness, thinking only of cocks spurting huge loads of cum into me and growing bigger and bigger muscle. Muscle. Beautiful hard sweaty male muscle with bulging pecs, huge arms, a wide back and boulder like shoulders. Dancing. Gyrating, my nipples were being stretched to the limit and my own little clit, as Coach called it, was ready to burst. Cocks. Hard cocks of all shapes and sizes. Thick viens circling the shaft with clear liquid dripping from the bulging cock head. Oh fuck I needed those cocks inside me. I couldn't get my brain to focus on anything but spurting cocks. A vibrator in my cunt hole and now one buzzing on my clit, making me stay on the edge of cumming for what seemed like hours but, in reality, only a few minutes. I was going to cum. I looked at Coach. "Please coach." I begged "You want to cum?" Coach said, "the poor boy wants to cum, eh?" I groaned. "Show the men what you did at the competition faggot." Coach yelled, "flex and cum." I hit my most muscular pose and held it there, squeezing and flexing with all my might. I didn't move. I felt the vibrators. I focused on the cum about to shoot from my clitty. I thought about big throbbing cocks and dirty assholes that needed cleaning. I thought about men slapping me and calling me a bitch, a faggot, a whore and a cum pig. I came. I came. I came so hard inside that used flimsy sheer pink pouch, filling it with cum and leaking to the floor. I knew I might be in trouble for leaking my cum. I stood still and focused on the seed spilling out of my cock. So much cum. I heard it dripping onto the floor. I knew it should never be wasted but couldn't prevent it now. I groaned so loudly during the longest cum of my life. I loved it. I didn't want it to stop but knew it wouldn't last forever and reality would come back. I didn't want reality any longer. I only wanted to live in the state of orgasm, one after another... again, and again. I dropped to the floor. I lost all my strength. I dropped my face right into the pool of my own white sperm on the floor. "This was quite a performance Coach." Mr. Kolby said, "but this mess on the floor could be a problem Im afraid." "Lick faggot," Coach slapped the back of my head. In a daze, I started licking up my cum from the floor. My face was also dripping cum from the loads that were on my face. The coach came down to me and pulled my head up by the hair. He wiped his fingers on my face and pushed the cum into my mouth. "You are a fuckin mess faggot." He said, "clean up this mess and get back out to the front desk." I tried to grab my lycra shorts but coach stopped me. "No no fag," He said as he grabbed the shorts out of my hand. "I will bring them out to you before the end of your shift. Now go." I quickly walked back out to the front desk and hid behind the counter as quickly as I could. Jason, another member of the Hormone club was there waiting for me. I had not yet been fucked today and I knew my pussy was ready for a deposit. Even though I just came, I could feel my cock swelling inside my panty g-string. "Hey faggot," Jason said, "What is that shit all over your face?" I still had dried cum all over my face that was getting crusty. "I can cover the desk so why don't you just get under there and take care of this." He pointed to the floor under the desk and I crawled under. I could instantly smell his dirty crotch as he pulled out his uncut dick. "I understand you need a deposit fag." Jason said. Cliff must have text him after my meeting to say I was available. Eventually, the coach came out as I was servicing Jason under the desk. "Good fag," Coach said down to me under the desk, "Put them back on after you get your load." He threw me the lycra shorts. I didn't stop my sucking because I would've been slapped. In fact, Jason was quick to fuck. He pulled me around to aim his cock into my pussy. I was still crouched under the desk. "Boss, could you cover me while I use the fag's hole?" Jason asked. He didn't wait for an answer and pulled me back onto his cock. It was so big but he didn't care about my pain and just fucked it inside me hard. "Sure, fuck the fag," Coach said, "I have some things to tell him." The coach kneeled down under the desk to talk to me while I was literally being fucked now. "Listen to me while you service a real man faggot." Coach slapped my face to get my attention. It was a difficult position to hold but I knew I should just do as I am told. I tried to stay focused on my coach. "Mr. Kolby had an idea," Coach said, "that we need to incorporate into your training from now on." Coach said. "You can't afford to lose any of that sperm in your balls boy," he said as held onto my cock and balls while I was being fucked. "Hold still and let the man use you fag." Coach said. It was difficult because Jason was basically using me as a masturbation tool, pulling me down onto his cock harder and harder, rocking me back and forth. My head was hitting the bottom of the desk. The coach reached under and rolled a condom onto my cock. "Even though you are not caged, from now on, you will wear a tight condom on your cock at all times. The condom will hold any leaking discharge from that clit and show me if you have any cum in there. Obey the rules boy and be thankful that you are not caged." He wrapped my cock and hooked it around my balls to prevent the condom from slipping off. It felt slimy on the inside like it was lubricated. He then pushed everything back into the gstring pouch. "That's stays on 24/7 boy." Coach ordered as he stared into my eyes, "Is that understood?" I nodded. "Mr. Kolby will give us an advance payment to sponsor your bodybuilding until you win the next competition." Coach held my sticky face with both hands and looked into my eyes again. "You must win faggot," He said sternly, "do you understand that? There is no option. Mr. Kolby wants you to perform exactly as you did for him, cumming while flexing. Next time you won't make a mess because of the condom. We will train you to cum on demand while you flex. This will set you apart from the others when you flex so hard that it gives you an orgasm on the stage. You're little "mistake" at the last competition is now what you need to do again to win the show." I had no idea what he was talking about but wasn't about to try and figure it out. It is easier to just obey and do as I am told. As a faggot, I have only been trained to hold my cum and deny myself an orgasm. Now, Coach wants me to cum? Coach said my special training will begin immediately. Meanwhile, Jason was ready to give me a deposit. "Fuck faggot," Jason groaned, "this is the tightest, wettest pussy I have had in a long time. FUckkkkkkkkk. I'm gonna breed you now, you little bitch. You fucking whore. Tell me you want my cum inside you." "Please Sir," I moaned, "please dump your cum inside my big muscle cunt. Thank you sir." Suddenly, there was buzzing in my crotch again. The coach must have put the vibrator back when he slipped the condom on me. Fuck, even though I just came, I felt my balls tighten and my sperm start to boil again. "Ohhhh fuck," I groaned. "Shut up fag," Coach said, "you want everyone to know you're getting dicked under the front desk?" He put his hand on my vibrating bulge and squeezed it as I fucked myself back onto Jason's huge black dick. "Yo, Im gonna cum in the bitch" Jason warned. "Hold still fag. You want my cum, don't you?" "Ohhhh, yes Sir," I replied, "Yes, please I need that cum to make me huge. Cum in my hole please." "Your hole?" the coach whispered down at me, "You mean your pussy. You mean your cunt hole, don't you faggot? You're a faggot now and fags have pussies, just like a girl. Pussies take men's cum inside them." "Yes Sir," I groaned, "cum in my pussy please." The vibrator on my clit was now going to make me cum again but I knew I had to ask the Coach permission. "Ohhhhh fuck," Jason groaned, "Here is comes fag. Take that cum. Ughhhhhhhhhhh" He held still while he was cumming inside me so that I could feel the throbbing and cum squirting from his cock. "Coach, may I please cum.. please" I moaned, "I can't control it Sir. It's going to cum." I was referring to my cock like it didn't belong to me. I couldn't stop the orgasm now. "Cum boy but you know that means punishment afterward." Coach said. I didn't care any more. I knew I would be punished for my own good because the coach knew what he was doing. I was a mindless muscle faggot now and I was happy. I filled the condom and collapsed to the floor beneath the desk. ---TO BE CONTINUED-- READERS: This is my 8th story here on Nifty. Please look for my other stories by going to the "AUTHOR" feature here in the menu and click BUSTERMUSCLE. Most of my stories involved the dominant/submissive power struggle because I believe that sexual control of one man over another is a huge turn on for me. Please feel free to email me any ideas you may have for Joey in this story. Thank you to all the emails I have received with comments and ideas. I always try to incorporate some of your perverted ideas into my story too. Keep the thoughts coming. Most important is that you PLEASE donate to NIFTY. Ny stories are exclusively HERE and nowhere else online. ` Please NOTE MY NEW email me at bustermuscle69@myyahoo.com with any comments. I will answer ALL emails. 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Date: Fri, 07 Dec 2001 12:26:06 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little-brothers-sex-slave, part 7 The next morning, I was released by Matt. I was OK, but tried not to thing too much about being horny. As I was in the shower, Matt got some juice and brought it the room. He had some, and I did too. I didn't think too much about it. Matt had laid out clothes for me to wear. I looked and cringed. "Put on the jock fag." He ordered. I did. Then he handed me a real tight t-shirt and some tight ripped jeans. Oh fuck, they were tight and I had trouble getting into them. "Come on Matt, don't make me go to school like this." I begged. "Shut up fag, let's get going, we're going to be late." He told me. So, I sucked it up, drank the juice and off we went. I was embarrassed, but I figured, what could I do. When we got to school, I was feeling so fucking hot (sexy). My cock was getting stiff, and you could see it clearly in my tight jeans. Matt just looked at me, smiling. As we pulled into the parking lot, Brian met us. He came over smiling. "Don't go yet fag." He ordered. He started to whisper stuff to Matt as they looked over at me, smiling and laughing. Brian pointed to my tight jeans and Matt laughed. "Feeling pretty boned fag, huh?" asked Brian. I must have turned 5 shades of red. "I don't understand it, but yet, I'm feeling way boned." I said sheepishly. "That's cuz you're a fag, and being around all this cock, is getting you hard." Brian said. "Good luck this afternoon at your job interview" Matt snickered. They went off laughing. I felt like hiding, but I had to go to class. The morning was torture. Between the kids making fun of me, and the teachers looking at me with disgust, I could have died. Finally, the end of the day came, and I had to go see that asshole at McDonalds for my job back. I walked over, it wasn't too far. I had to meet with "Mr. Alexander" as he liked to be called. And the fucking thing about it was he was only, like 24. "Mr.", what an ass hole. But I had to deal with him. And he liked that. "Ahh, William..." he said. "UUMMh, Mr. Alexander.... I need my job back." I said "Oh, really?" he asked. "Yeah, my dad says I have to work extra hours to uuuhhh, help pay for college." I said. "Oh, I see Bill...." He said. Only the second time he called me Bill. "Well, yes sir.... I would appreciate it if you could, umh squeeze me in." I said. "Well, I don't know...." He stammered. I thought 'yeah, here it comes'. He stood up and went over and locked the door and then came up in back of me. He put his hands on my shoulders and back. I stiffened. "A little jumpy, William?" he asked. "No sir, just a little nervous...." I lied. "HHMM, quite an outfit youre wearing William..." he said. "Yeh, my brothers clothes actually, mind were all dirty.." I lied again. "Quite, umh revealing...." He noticed. Well, duh, no shit, here I was standing in front of a dude with almost a hard on. It was way embarrassing. And sending him all the wrong messages. "Well, William, I think we might be able to fit you in on the afternoon shift. One of our new assistant managers is a junior at your school, perhaps you know him...." He said. "Yeah, I do, Joe.." I volunteered. Yeah I knew him all right. Fucking ass hole. This was definitely not going to be fun I thought. "Is there any other shifts I might get on?" I asked. "Well, I don't know...." He stood up and walked over to me. He reached out and touched my chest. I stiffened. He let his hands run down to my stomach and started to grab at my cock. I pulled back. "Please, Mr. Alexander, don't" I pleaded. "OK William, you can start on Monday, You'll be working for Joe." He said as he sat down. "Thank you Mr. Alexander. I appreciate the opportunity.." I said and turned to go. "I'm sure Joe will be able to use your talents on his shift." He said. I turned and left and walked home. I was sooo dejected. I hated having to work at McDonalds in the first place, but for Joe. This was going to suck big time. It took about 1/2 hour to get home, but I threw my stuff in the room and got some coke. I went downstairs and lay on my bed. I had some music on, and was trying to sort out what was happening. All of a sudden, the door opened and in comes Matt. "Oh fag, you're home." He said. "Yeah, I got the job back." I said. "Yeah, kewl" he said. "Hey, I got Karen here, and I want you to, like, get in the closet and stay there till she leaves." He told me. "Aw come on man, don't make me listen to you fucking Karen.." I pleaded "Leave the door open a little, and you can watch." He smirked as he pushed me into the closet. I sat on the floor and he did leave the door open a little, so I could watch him. Fuck, what an egotist!! A minute latter, I heard them coming down the stairs, laughing. He was feeling her all over, especially here tits. I could see him and her. Man she was hot. She was feeling up his dick lump like crazy. Oh man, this was crazy. I was so horned up, and now I had to watch my brother fucking with his chick. My cock was so hard, but I couldn't do anything, or I knew he would get really pissed. "Hey babe...c'mere...." he said. He grabbed at her and pulled her down on the bed. He planted a real wet French kiss on her. His hands were all over her tits. She moaned her approval. "Oohh Matt, I've been so horny for you. I can't wait to have you fuck me...." She cooed. "Well, babe, lets do it...." He stood up and started to take her clothes off. She stood in front of him, and let him undress her. When her bra came off, he leaned over and sucked on each tit. "OOOOwwww, god that feels good" she said. I could see them sticking out even more. Nice pencil erasers. She started to strip him. Off came his shirt. He was smooth, and hard, and had a nice washboard stomach from all of his sports. She rubbed his chest and stomach. Then she undid his jeans and let them fall to the floor. His cock was sticking out of his boxers. She reached down and grabbed it. "Oh yeah, that's what I want." She said. He stepped out of his boxers, and finished removing her jeans and panties. They were totally naked in front of me. Course, she didn't know about it. He positioned her so I could see him making out with her. She was all over him, and he was all over her. His cock was hard as a rock. She lay on the bed. "Come on stud, fuck me...." She said. He laid right on her and started to poke at her cunt with his cock. It didn't take much for it to pop in. "OOOO, yeah, do me...." She moaned. He pushed it in farther. I had to admit, he looked fucking hot, and he started to fuck his chick. She moaned and groaned, but he kept right up with her. Soon, she was almost screaming. "OOOHHH Matt, Yeh, oooohhh god." She moaned "UUUHHH...." "UUUHHHH..." "UUUUHHH..." she moaned. Keeping time to his thrusts. He fucked her for about 5 or 6 minutes, and then she started to scream. "Oh fucking yeh.....I'm cumming......" she moaned. He fucked her harder and then she groaned out her climax. He let up a bit, as she tried to catch her breathe. He looked down at her, smiling that cocky smile of his. "How was it?" he asked. "Oh god, youre so fucking hot Matt. I love having you fuck me..." she said dreamily. "Well, you know, you guys have to keep us jocks happy. We need to be happy to win..." he joked. "Yeh, I'll keep ya happy...." She squealed as she started to hump him. He slowly started to fuck her again. Nice and slow, in and out. She just lay back and let him slowly fuck her. She moaned every now and again. "Oh yeah, matt, yeah, do me ......" she moaned. And all I could do was sit there and watch, all horned up. I wondered what it would be like to be Matt. Fucking the chicks, making them cum. I wanted it so bad, but I knew that as long as Matt and Brian had the blackmail stuff on me, my chances of escaping their plans was pretty nil. I was resigning myself to being the cocksucker pussy boy of my younger brother and his bud. It made me sad, but excited at the same time. I looked back at Matt. He was taking long thrusts with Karen. Pulling his cock almost all the way out, making her squirm to keep it in. Then pushing all the way back in, hard. She was moaning again, and I could tell she was ready to cum again. He kept it up for about 5 more minutes, and then she came again, screaming..... He moaned too and I could sense that he was cumming. He had a real dreamy look on his face as he shot his load. They just lay there panting. "Oh shit, look at the time.....I gotta get home," Karen gasped. "K. I'll run you home." Said Matt. They quick got dressed and took off. I came out of the closet and looked around. Man, I was so horned up. I figured now was going to be my only chance to jack off, so I got out of my tight clothes and took off that damn jock strap of matt's. My cock was so hard, I couldn't believe it. I lay on my bed and started to stroke it. I was thinking of Matt fucking his chick. God, he was so hot, I loved it. Pretty soon, my cock head was all wet and slippery with precum. It only took a minute or two and I shot a huge load all over my chest and stomach. I even got a little on my chin! I cleaned up and decided to take a shower. I got in the bathroom, and took a nice long shower. God, did the water feel good. I was still pretty boned up, but I figured, from all the sex I was being exposed to, maybe that's what was keeping me excited. After I got out and dressed, in more normal clothes, I was laying on my bed. Matt came in. "Hey fag....how'd ya like the show?" he asked cockily. "It was ok, I guess...." I answered sheepishly. "Fucking A it was OK, the cunt loves my cock dude...just like you...." He said. "Yeah...." I answered. "Get your job back?" he asked. "Yeah, I start on Monday." I replied. "You have to blow him to get your job back?" he queried. "No, I did not...." I answered. Matt sat down at his computer and started something. He was watching the cam of him fucking Karen. Oh shit, I forgot about that stuff. I didn't think it was on, but I guess it was. "Wanted to tape this for Brian. He likes watching me fuck Karen. We're planning another tag team soon." He said casually. Then he saw me on the cam. "Whoa.... what's this?" he asked. "Fuck man, I didn't give you permission to jerk off." He shouted angrily. "Aw come on Matt... I'm so horny.... I just needed to...." I defended myself. "Fuck that shit fag...You aren't allow to jerk off without my permission. I thought we had that resolved the other day...." He said. "Come on Matt....Please..." I begged. "Strip and get over here." He ordered. I did as he told me. I approached him and he told me to lie over his knee. I did as he instructed. Her raised his hands and started to spank me again. Over and over. He whacked me hard as he could. "I know it hurts you fag, but you gotta learn to do as your told." He scolded me. I begged him to stop, but that just made him hit me more. I was so hurting, that I started to cry. "Please matt, stop...." I begged. After about 25 whacks he stopped. My ass was all red and sore. I felt so stupid standing in front of him with a hard dick, and tears running down my face. "Now suck me fag...." He ordered. I knelt in front of him, and unzipped his jeans and got out his cock. It was already hard. Course, as soon as I started to suck it, I could taste Karen. I didn't care. All I wanted was to please him, and make him stop whacking me. I figured if I did a good job, he wouldn't spank me anymore. I sucked him for about 10 minutes, until he finally shoot a big load of teen jizz into my throat. "AAAHHH, yeah..." he said dreamily. "I hope you've learned your lesson bro. Don't be touching your fag cock!!" He ordered. I just sat back on my knees, and said: "Yes sir..." To be continued.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-20

Date: Sat, 29 Jun 2002 17:17:08 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: little brothers sex slave, part 20 We were both asleep, kinda exhausted from all the shit we had been through. It was about 7, when Brian came in and woke us up. "Hey fags...time to get going." He ordered. We got up, and Brian threw us each a pair of see through thongs. We got them on, and modeled them for Brian. He smiled. He took us to the kitchen and had us prepare stuff for the party. We put out all kinds of snacks. When we got back to the kitchen, Brian made us drink something that he made. Yeah, guess what??? Yep another viagra cocktail. Fuck that dude never stopped. We both drank like he wanted. Pretty soon some of the guys arrived. Matt greeted them and led them into the den where some porn was on the VCR. Brian instructed us to go to the den with snacks. So Mike and I did. When we got there, there were tons of catcalls, and stuff. Matt ordered us to stand over in the corner and face the center of the room. We did that and awaited further instructions. The guys were drinking beer and eating, hooting at the porn. After a little bit, Mike and I started to get hard. After a few more dudes showed up, Matt spoke: "Guys.....Guys....Hey, we're ready." He said, calling everyone to attention. "You guys know my big bro Billy, right?" he said mockingly, as he pointed to me. "You all know how much of a fag he is, but this is Mike, my cuz" he pointed to Mike. "What he didn't know was that he was a fag too, till the other night, when he had my dick in his mouth" he smiled. "Brian helped him recognize his true self." He laughed. "Now, the lil fag can't get enough cock, right Mike?" he looked at Mike and smiled. Mike just stood there and shook his head yes. The guys went wild. "OK, so here's the deal.....The fags here have begged us to 'expand' their experience. So we figured, what the fuck, why no set up a little party to help em out, ya know..." snickered Matt. "After all, we're all horny, right?" asked Matt. "And the boys here need cock right??" "So what better deal, then to let them, umm, you know, suck us dry!" he said. All the guys hooted and hollered, yeah, yeah. "OK, so here's how were gonna do it." Said Matt. "The fags will be available for single, or multiple sucks or fucks. The more the merrier. They really need it guys, live for cock....You can have em suck ya, or you can fuck their pussies if you want. Only thing is, don't touch their cocks. They are much better when horned up...Course, if you fuck em the right way, they cum, just like regular cunts..." he snickered. "Right Mike?" he asked. Mike just shook his head yes. "Oh yeah, and dudes, the more the better. The fag here (he pointed to me) told me he would love having a dude in his pussy, his mouth, and have to jerk off two dudes till they cum on his face and bod...kewl huh?" he said. "Now, don't freak, but Brian and I would like to take some pics and videos of our little party to prepare for our new web site..." he said. "Don't worry though, you won't see your faces, just your cocks, what we're really after is their faces and pussies." He laughs. "So don't freak, if we come up to ya with cameras, OK?" "Also, to help pay for the party, we want to take bids for who goes first, OK?" "Hey fags..." he points to us. "Get out here and strip." He ordered us. Mike and I went to the center of the room. Of course, we were practically naked anyway...I started to pull down my thong, and Matt came over and slapped me. "Stupid bitch, you strip each other, and don't touch those pussy boi wieners of yours either!" he ordered. Mike and I grabbed each other's thongs, and pulled em down. Naturally, our cocks sprang up once freed from our thongs. "Fag each other up." Ordered Brian. Mike and I started to rub hands on our tits and abs, being careful not to touch our cocks, as Matt had instructed. Brian got out the camera and started to take pics of us. "Kiss em fag..." ordered Matt as he slapped Mike's head. Mike came over to me and planted a long sexy kiss on my mouth. More calls from the guys. It was so embarrassing to be forced to kiss and make out in front of a bunch of 14, 15, and 16-year-old dudes. They loved watching us, and kept making comments about how faggy we were. Mike and I continued to play around per Matt's instructions. "OK, how much are we bid for first dibs on the boys?" asked Matt. "I'll give ya $50.00 for Mike" shouted Ryan. Ryan was a cocky 15 year old. You could tell that he was way boned from looking at his jeans. "OK, fifty for Mike.....How much for my older bro???" said Matt. "$20.00 for him." it was Josh. "Aw, come on man, just 20....this dude sucks like a hoover man....gotta be worth at least 25..." laughed Matt. "OK 25" said Josh. So the first two dudes were set Both Ryan and Josh stripped what they had left on. Both were incredibly hot looking studs. Both were 15, and both had about 6" cocks. Ryan was the more aggressive dude, and I figured he was really gonna wail into Mike. Brian got the cams out and Matt forced me and Mike to our knees. Course we were boned, that fucking Viagra mix!!! Josh pulled my hair and pushed my head back and then rammed his hot teen meat into my mouth. Ryan took his hard cock and rubbed it around Mike's mouth, getting precum all over his lips. He grabbed Mike's hair and just teased him with his dick. He had a real tough look on his face. Course, Brian was filming all of this as the rest of the guys looked on. "Hey fag....wanna suck this cock man?" he taunted. "Yes, I do.." answered Mike. "Beg for it bitch!" he yelled, as he continued to rub his cock around Mike's lips" "Please sir, let me suck your hard cock...I need it sooo bad..." Mike begged. Ryan grabbed Mike's head and cock whipped his face. Whack Whack Whack Whack Whack Mike just opened his mouth, and tried to suck Ryan's hot teen cock into his mouth. Whack Whack Whack He wouldn't give Mike the cock. "You cocksucking bitch!" yelled Ryan as he continued to bitch slap him. Whack Whack Whack " Please sir, I need jock cock..." Mike pleaded Ryan yanked his hair and head back and rammed his cock all the way into Mike's throat. He choked as it slid in. Ryan smiled and pulled almost all the way out and then rammed back in. It was way hot, and Ryan clearly enjoyed rapping poor Mike's mouth. I glanced down and saw that Mike's dick was hard as stone. Ryan saw it too. "Yeah Ry...the bitch loves it!!" shouted Matt. Brian continued filming as Ryan pumped in and out of Mike's mouth. I had to admit; he did look fucking hot with that cock roaming in and out of his mouth. Ryan pumped him for about 10 minutes, and then tensed up......and then pulled his cock almost all the way out and shouted......"FUCK YEAH....." as he unloaded in poor Mike's mouth. After the first two spurts, he pulled out and jizzed his face, as Ryan jerked off on his face. Oh fuck, he really hosed the dude. He shot the last two shots in his mouth, and sighed as Mike continued to suck him clean. When he was done, Ryan, pushed him back, and yelled: "Fucking fag boi....you used to be a jock, now look at you, sucking hot jock cocks....you are pitiful!" Mike's face turned red, and he looked up and Ryan, who then pushed him over on the floor. "Cunt!" he yelled as he walked away. Course Josh was pumping my face like mad. He was hot, and wanted to nut. It didn't take him long, and he unloaded a hot load of teen jizz into my mouth. He grunted as he shot. Naturally, Matt got it all on tape. I gulped his jizz down as he pulled out, smiling. "Thanks dude.." he snickered. "Hey dudes, wanna see the fags fuck??" said Matt. "Yeah!!" they all shouted. Brian and Matt made Mike and I get on the table and lay on our backs. Brian took Mike first. "You wanna fuck Mike?" he asked "Yeah..." replied Mike. Brian smiled as he positioned his bone at Mikes hole. In one swift move, he speared the dude. Mike cried out. Brian smiled. He viciously fucked Mike. He called him names as he forcefully raped the poor broken jocks ass. Mike, just groaned and moaned, and took the dick. You could tell from his face, he wanted this. He kept groaning, ugh, ugh, ugh; rolling his head back and moaning. Brian was loving the power he had over the stud. He glanced down at Mike's drooling dick, and laughed. "What a cunt!" he said. Then it was Matt's turn. He looked at me, and smiled. "Well, Billy boy, you want some dick??" he asked mockingly. "Yes." Was all I could say. He reached over and slapped my face. "What?" he demanded. "Yes, Matt, I want you to fuck me." I replied, humiliated in front of all the guys. He looked in my eyes, with that hot jock face of his, and positioned his dick at my pussy. "Then, fuck my dick." He ordered. I had to scoot forward to get his dick into my pussy hole. They all laughed as I impaled myself on Matt's hot teen meat. "Come on cunt, ride that meat!" he yelled as he slapped my ass. I did as he wanted, and fucked him, as he just kinda stood there. I did all the work; he just looked at me like the demanding young master he had become. Of course, it was so embarrassing, because, my own cock was rock hard. Matt knew how to hit my button and he was doing it. I was dripping precum all over myself. I moaned like the cunt I was becoming. "Hey guys wanna see the cunt cum?" he asked. "Yeah, lets see him shoot..." they all kinda yelled. God, I felt so pussy like. My own brother using me, or rather making me use myself like some kind of cheap whore. I rolled my head around and opened my mouth. "OOOWWWW" I yelled, and then shot all over myself as I continued to fuck myself on Matt's dick. "See, he's turning into a cunt!" said Matt mockingly. "Lick up the cum, fag boy." He commanded. I dutifully started to scoop up the cum on my body and eat it. I loved it, but I was so embarrassed. Course, Matt still had not cum, and he was now pumping into my ass. All I could do is take it, and moan. Finally Matt yelled out and shot his load into my pussy. He pulled out and made me lick the remaining cum from his dick. All the guys laughed and appauled. Naturally, Brian had it all on tape. Fuck, my reputation was shot, and now almost everyone knew I was Matt's cocksucker, now the whole team....I just felt embarrassed, but still horned. "Hey guys...I wanna tape him being fucked by someone in his pussy, sucking cock, and jerking off two guys. I need four dudes." Announced Matt. Four hot studs came over. None of them had ever fucked me before, nor had I sucked them. The one with the biggest dick, about 7" positioned himself at my pussy, another dude, a hot stud with blonde hair and about a 6" dick, took my mouth, and then two other guys, about 15, I think had me jerkin them. I squealed as the 7" cock invaded my pussy. But soon was into that. The blonde dude was over my head, and at a good angle for sucking. He was pumping my mouth. Because of the angle, I could do him pretty good. I had a cock in each hand. Matt knew that I was now a cockhound. I jerked them dudes real good, and sucked. Course the dude in my pussy knew where to hit me too. I squirmed real good, as his cock kept on my spot. Yeah, I loved it, cock in all holes. Brian was right there with the camera, as the hot teen studs fucked me into ecstasy. I took it for about 10 minutes, before they all unloaded on and in me. I was so horny. My little boy cock was rock hard. I jerked and sucked and fucked. When they were done, I was almost passed out, it was so hot. Cum on my face, chest, and hair. Jizz dribbling out of my mouth and ass. Brian caught it all. "Let's see Mike do that too.." suggested Brian. He looked at Mike, who was just finishing sucking another cock and said: "You know you wanna, right?" Mike just looked at him and nodded his head. "Yeah, excellent dude...I knew you'd love it...after all cock and cum is your life now right?" he asked. Mike just nodded, and said, "yeah." So they did Mike the same way. 4 dudes, all hot, and all horned, and fucking and making him suck and jerk. Mike really did love this stuff too. He really got way into being a pussy boy. Brian had done an excellent job of training Mike. He lasted almost 15 minutes before they unloaded on him. Cum everywhere, and from where I was, kneeling sucking two cocks, he looked like he loved it too. And so it went for the rest of the night. Between Mike and me, we sucked, I dunno, maybe 50 cocks. We were so fucked out and full of cum, that at the end of the night, we just collapsed on the floor. Brian and Matt had gotten tons of film on us (and the other guys). They were all very buzzed, and loved the power they had over us. Yeah, we were true cocksuckers all right. And now they had the film to prove it. The next day, Brian would post the new pics to the web site that they had set up for us. But we were both to exhausted to care at that point. Thanks for the e-mail's on this story guys. I'm trying to write it as fast as I can, but you know how sometimes things just back up. Thanks for your support. Billy

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/black-mans-white-pussyboy-3

Date: Sat, 25 Aug 2001 00:29:55 EDT From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy 3 Black Man's White Pussyboy Part 3 By Percxyz@aol.com I had left Jay's apartment after our last evening together listening to him chuckle as I carefully took smaller steps than usual to give my abused hole as little further pain as possible. Jay had fucked me three more times over the course of the next several hours, taking longer and longer each time to shoot his cum. My ass was sore and hurting and I had begged him several times to stop for a minute, to please give me a break, but he just kept pounding into me, telling me that as his bitch I needed to learn to take his cock however he wanted to give it to me. Now, three days later, I was beginning to feel halfway normal again. My ass had seemed to recover from Jay's at times brutal pounding thrusts. I had tried to keep my thoughts away from the black stud and his thick cock and had concentrated on dating my current girlfriend and fucking her each night. But she left each night and when I awoke the next morning, I found hand sliding to my hard cock and my thoughts sliding to Jay's firm chest, hard cock and ebony skin as I beat my meat. It seemed I couldn't help myself. Something about Jay - I didn't know what - had taken over my thoughts. Maybe it was the way he had taken control, or the many acts of physical and mental domination he had shown. Maybe it was the contrast between my fair skin and his ebony complection. My mind was too confused to figure work out any answer. I had made two trips to the building in which Jay rented for maintenance the day before, but fortunately, or unfortunately, I didn't see Jay. I am not sure what I would have done if I had encountered him alone in the stairwell or hall. Even more importantly, I am not sure what Jay would have done. And I knew deep inside that whatever he would have wanted to do, I would have agreed. The next day, Todd, another tenant in that building called asking me to please stop by to look at a leaking faucet. Since he also offered to pay the back rent he owed, I agreed. In his apartment, I found myself staring at the young man more than I should. Todd had a dark complection, not swarthy or latino, but just well tanned with very dark brown hair and brown eyes. He hadn't shaved for a day or so and I found his stubble to be strangely exciting. Todd is 25 and stands about five ten or five eleven, just a bit shorter than me, and clearly worked out. I forced my thoughts away from him and concentrated on fixing the leak. There was also a problem with the drain and as I lay under the sink working on it, Todd sat on a chair at the kitchen table chatting with me, just trying to be polite. Unfortunately this gave me a good view of his muscular legs and glances up the inside of his shorts to his boxers. As my cock grew harder and harder, I announced that I needed some different tools and asked if I could come back to finish another time. Todd told me that he had some errands to run, so I grabbed the rent check and got out the door as quickly as I could. I had to make a conscious effort to keep myself subtly turned to hide my hard cock from the view of the athletic guy. In the hallway, I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall for a second. I turned to leave, my cock still visibly hard, and stopped dead in my tracks. Jay stood at the end of the hallway. The look on his face was one of amusement and superiority. I tried to hide my hard cock, but he had already seen it and the sight of him, tall, straight and toned only made it more visible. Jay's door was halfway down on the other side of the hall. He stepped up to it, slid his key into the hole and opened the door. Jay glanced again at me as he moved through the doorway. "Get in here." As if I had no will of my own, I walked down the hall and stepped into Jay's apartment. He was only standing about five feet in the apartment, hands on his hips which jutted forward, showing me that he was hard too. I felt my knees go weak and a shiver run up my spine at the sight of the muscular black stud. He wore low slung jeans and a tight fitting white t-shirt which emphasized the development of his chest and arms. "You know where you belong, whiteboy." It was a command as much as a statement. I looked up at Jay's face as I stepped forward and sank to my knees. "Good boy. Now you know what to do." I turned a bit to swing the door closed but Jay grabbed my hair painfully. "Did I tell you to close the door, bitch? Did I?" he demanded. "No, sir." I managed to reply. "Then do what you were born to do, cocksucker." He popped open the buttons of his 501's as he said this. I was unable to tear my eyes away as I saw he was wearing no underwear. His thick black cock sprang out toward my face seconds later. Acutely aware of the door standing wide open behind me, I still leaned forward to take him in my mouth. He stopped me with the palm of his left hand against my forehead. He grabbed the base of his cock with his right hand and began to beat my face with it. I felt the head and the shaft slapping against my cheeks, my lips, my chin. I was worried that even this sound may carry down the hall, but there was nothing I could do. For some reason, I couldn't make myself stand up and walk away from this black buck dick slapping my face. I wanted to be on my knees there taking it. My cheeks were as much red from my embarrassment as from the slapping of his cock. Finally, even though I had my lips open, trying to catch his cockhead between them, Jay ordered me to open wide and sank his cock into my head in one smooth slow thrust. With his hand now gripping the hair above my forehead, I could do nothing but let him make the slow insertion, feeling my throat stretch as he shoved his entire length into me. He let out a mixed moan and sigh of pleasure as my lips, tongue and throat muscles all worked to milk his long black shaft. I slid my hands up to his hips, enjoying the feel of his leg muscles and the bones of his pelvis just below where his abdomen tapered upwards, solid with muscle. It was so different from that of any girl I had fucked. Since he didn't tell me to stop, I ran my hands further up, felling his chest widen as I slid them under his shirt. I moved my hands to the front of his chest and my fingers ran across his pecs. I lightly played with his nipples, squeezing them gently and feeling them harden. Jay was moaning more loudly now as he used his left hand to move my head in time with the slow thrusting of his hips, pulling my face down each time he thrust forward. I had learned early on how to cover my teeth, so he had a warm wet receptacle for his cock - my mouth. Jay was breathing deeply, and I was able to tilt my head some and raise my eyes upward. Once again, Jay towered over me, looking dominantly down at me, his kneeling cocksucker, worshiping his cock. "Go ahead and play with your boy cock, faggot. You know you want to and I like watching you jack yourself while you suck me." I really thought he was being nice, allowing me to stroke my cock while going down on him and quickly opened my own jeans and pushed them down. Jay watched me for a moment and just after I grabbed my cock, he surprised me by pulling his dick from my mouth. Jay's hands grabbed my shoulders and with brute force he spun me around on the floor on my knees so that I faced the open doorway. I felt him drop onto the floor behind me, his knees coming down between my calves, forcing my legs wider apart, nestling in close to my now exposed ass. Jay used a hand on the back of my neck to force me forward, making me catch myself so that I ended on hands and knees. I looked up at the wall across the hall out the open door as the head of Jay's cock found my hole. He held still for a second, then brutally plowed forward, forcing every inch of his thick cock into me in one swift motion. "Ahhhhh! Fuckkkk!!" I cried out. Jay lowered his chest onto my back and wrapped his arms underneath me around my chest. His mouth was next to my ear. "You better not make too much noise, whiteboy, or else Todd may come down here to see what's happening. Do you want him to find you on your hands and knees on the floor with my big black dick fucking your butt?" Jay thrust in again and again, brutally hard, obviously trying to get me to make more noise. I clamped my lips shut which were still tingling from the friction of his cock sliding against them as I had sucked him, and waited for my ass began to adjust again to his invasion of my body. "Then again," he continued, "with that boner you were sporting coming out of his apartment, maybe that's exactly what you want. Huh, whiteboy? You got a hankering for some white dick plowing your butt? Or maybe down your throat? Todd's a real man. Not a piece of shit, white pussyboy like you. I bet he'd be plenty happy pumping a few loads into you. What do you think. Maybe we should get him down here and you two could negotiate a new rent amount." As he said this, Jay's thick cock continued its assault, plowing my ass open, then withdrawing, only to ram back in deeply again. The thrusts were forcing grunts out from deep in my chest and I was powerless to stop them. Then to my horror, I heard the door down the hall, the door to Todd's apartment, swing open. My mind registered the squeaky hinge and that I needed to oil it, of all things. Then I remembered. Todd had said he needed to go out to run some errands. "Oh my god," I thought miserably. "This hot looking guy, who could be a friend of mine, and who I hoped would be a friend, was going to find me on the floor of Jay's apartment, mounted like a bitch by the muscular black young man. I lowered my face to look at the floor, but Jay grabbed the hair on the back of my head and pulled me back up. I heard Todd's door shut and the jingling of his keys as he locked up his apartment. The jingling stopped and I resigned myself to my fate. Just as I thought Todd must appear in the hallway, Jay reached out and swung the door shut, sealing us into his apartment. I was letting out a sigh of relief when Jay redoubled his assault on my boypussy. I heard Todd's footsteps on the hardwood floor pass along in front of Jay's door, and managed to keep my mouth clamped closed, but worried that just the squelching sound of Jay's pounding cock and his panting breath would carry through the door to Todd's ears in the hallway. But the footsteps faded and I relaxed a little mentally. Jay's rough pounding forced me to keep my elbows locked to support Jay's weight on my back and keep my balance under the onslaught of Jay's brutal thrusts. The friction of Jay's speed and force was also having an effect on him, as well. With a loud moan into my ear, I felt Jay tighten his arms around my chest as he began to cum. He sank his cock deeply into me and held it there. I could feel its pulsing as he pumped spurt after spurt of hot cum into me. Jay let out a satisfied sigh and relaxed his grip, settling onto my back. I kept both of us supported, wanting the black stud, whose cock was still deep inside me to stay buried deeply in me for as long as he wanted. Jay's breathing finally slowed to normal and he raised himself upwards. I could feel the back of my shirt soaked by both his sweat and my own as the cool air hit it. Jay's cock slid out of me, leaving me feeling empty and strangely incomplete. I wondered for a brief second if I could call out to Todd. Call him in and have him fuck me. The reality of what I was thinking suddenly hit me and the shock of it brought me out of my sexually induced trance. My cock was still hard as I had been unable to stroke it and support myself and Jay during his fucking. It throbbed almost painfully, as hard as it had ever been in my life. I raised up onto my knees when Jay told me to and turned to face him. He told me to open my mouth and as I sucked him clean, he allowed me to beat my cock. I came within a minute, his softening black cock now clean in my mouth. Jay watched me cum, my sperm shooting onto the floor. He let me suck him for a few seconds longer, then pushed me away. I watched him as he turned and sauntered to the couch. His ass cheeks were round, firm and tight, the skin not as dark as his cock, and I found myself longing not to shove my cock between them, but to use my tongue again. Jay reached the couch and sprawled on it on his back. His cock flopped over his thigh, pointing at me. Jay glanced over at me and told me to clean up the floor. I knew what he wanted from the look on his face and in his eyes. I leaned over and licked my cum from the floor. Jay was smiling when I looked back up at him, his teeth gleaming. "You're learning pretty quickly, bitch. But I suppose you want more. Right?" He looked at me. "Yes sir. I want more, if you do." "You want it from me, or from Todd?" "You, Jay. I want your cock." "Does that mean that you don't want Todd's?" When I hesitated, he laughed. "That's what I thought. Already you're wanting more and more dick. Well let me tell you boy. If I ever find out that you've been some other guy's bitch without my permission, you will never get this," he grabbed his cock, "ever again. You understand that?" "Yes, Jay." "Good. Then get over here and you can suck another load outta my balls." Obediently, I crawled to the couch and buried my face in his crotch, taking his cockhead in my mouth. Jay just relaxed on the couch, enjoying letting me do all the work. His cock quickly grew in my mouth forcing me to climb up onto the couch to get the right angle to get his cock all the way in my mouth. Jay spread his legs, giving me room on the couch to work his cock deeply in and out of my throat. Suddenly the phone rang and I began to pull off his cock. A hand on the back of my head held my mouth on his shaft. The phone was on the table beside the couch above Jay's head and with his other hand, Jay reached behind him and grabbed it. "Hello? Hey bro. What's up? Really? Yeah, kind of a slow day then. Me? Just having a bit of fun here. Nah, not that. Closer, but not quite. Closer still. That's it. Yeah, it's good head. Some of the best I've gotten." I couldn't believe that Jay was talking about getting his cock sucked with some guy on the phone. "No, not her. Not her either. You aren't gonna guess, 'cause you don't know the guy. Yeah, that's right, it's a guy. I know. Found me a little whiteboy who likes dick. Especially black dick. No, I'm not kidding you." Jay used the grip on my hair to move my head up and down his cock. "Yeah, listen." He held the phone down by my mouth and I knew whomever was on the other end could clearly hear the slurping and sucking sounds of my mouth on Jay's big black cock. He pulled the phone back to his ear. "See, what did I tell you. Getting head. No, it's a guy. Like I said, a fucking whiteboy. Guy is a complete cock slut. I just blew a load up his ass too. Yeah. Buttfucked the pussyboy like he was a fifty cent whore. Yeah, I'm serious. Here. Hold on." Jay looked at me as he pulled my mouth off his cock. "Say 'Hello Bobby'," Jay ordered. "Hello, Bobby," I said. I could hear a male voice saying "Holy shit" as Jay pulled the receiver away. "What did I tell you? Yeah, busted this whiteboy's cherry not too long ago, both of them, mouth and ass. He's been a slut for my dick ever since. I fucked him until he could barely walk a few days ago." Jay laughed, either at his statement or at something the guy on the phone said, I wasn't sure which. "Yeah, I know. We always talked about fucking over some white dude. Now I am doing it - literally. Yeah, I know. You want to? Well, I am sure that something can be arranged. Yeah. Yeah. Hey dude. I am getting close to blowing a load down this fag's throat. I'll call you later." Jay almost dropped the phone onto the cradle and used both hands to push my head down into his crotch. My nose was buried in his wiry black pubes as he pumped his sperm into my mouth. **************** Author's (author, yeah right) note. First of all, thanks for all who wrote. Second of all, sorry for the delay between chapters. Finally, if you want to read more, please let me know. I will devote time to a story if I know there are guys who want to read it, otherwise, there are other stories to write.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/black-mans-white-pussyboy-2

Date: Tue, 6 Mar 2001 23:35:52 EST From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy 2 Black Man's White Pussyboy by Percxyz@aol.com After the second day with Jay when I agreed to the reduced rent, I was kind of in a state of shock over what I had let him do to me. I was even more shocked by the fact that I had been a willing participant. However, I decided that would be the last of my encounters with him of a sexual nature. I dated women. I fucked women. I couldn't keep letting a guy use me like that. With my new resolve, I didn't call Jay and even avoided the building in which he lived as much as I could. Wednesday of the following week my phone rang. It was Jay. Just the sound of his voice had my whole body reacting. "So, whiteboy, I haven't heard from ya since I pounded your pussy the last time. Where the hell have you been?" I...um..well, I've just been busy with work," I replied. I felt my cock hardening and my hole twitching as I remembered the feeling of him inside me. "Yeah, well, boy, I've got some work for you to do. Be over here in thirty minutes." The phone line went dead. I hung up the phone and went to get myself a beer. I couldn't go to his place again, I thought as I took a swig of beer. I knew what would happen. I would be taking his cock down my throat and up my ass again if I went over there. I went back into the den and turned on the TV. I would just watch some television and forget about Jay's call. Less than a half hour later, I was knocking on Jay's door. He answered it wearing just a pair of jockey shorts, his well defined muscular chest bare. I felt my cock, which had been at half mast on the drive to his place straining in my shorts. He flashed me a grin, his bright white teeth shining. The sight of him, his muscles, dark skin and handsome face was enough to dissolve the last remaining vestiges of my will. He stepped to the side, opening the door wider for me to enter. As I walked past him, I felt his hand on my ass, squeezing my left cheek. "Gonna be up in here real soon, whiteboy. Real soon." I heard the door shut as I made my way into the living room. When I reached the couch, I turned to look at him. He had followed along behind me and stood only a few feet away. As I watched, he flexed the muscles in his arms and chest, showing off his body. "Like what you see, boy? Ready for some action?" I could only nod my head. "Then strip, faggot," he said as he sprawled on the couch. He watched me as I pulled off my shirt, kicked off my shoes and socks and dropped my shorts and underwear. I felt kind of strange stripping for this big black stud, but he had seen me naked before. Hell, he had done much more than just see. Somewhat embarrassed, I watched as his eyes traveled over my body, inspecting me. "Still looking ready to be fucked, whiteboy. You got a nice body, in shape, well toned and real fuckable." His hand went to his crotch and massaged the growing bulge in his boxers. "This is the piece of meat that's gonna do it to ya too, pussyboy. You like being a pussyboy for a black stud like me?" "Yes, Sir." I replied. "Yes sir, what?" he demanded. He was going to make me say it. I knew there was no way around it. "Yes, Sir, I like being a black man's pussyboy." He gave me another big grin as he listened to the words. "Yeah, I know you do boy. So why haven't you called for some more of my big dick? Don't give me that 'had to work' bullshit." "I just couldn't believe what we had done, Jay. I was embarrassed and confused. I fuck women and always have. I figured that what we did was just some experimenting." It sounded lame even to my own ears, but it was the truth. "Experimenting? Shit, whiteboy, you should have seen the way you looked when you were 'experimenting'. I have never seen such a pussy slut like you. When you had my dick in your mouth and in your tight little pussy that was pure ecstasy on your face. No need to deny it. Your little white boy-cock all hard and throbbing tells me what I need to know. You may have fucked pussies before, faggot, but now you're nothing more than a pussy that I fuck. That ain't ever gonna change." I looked down at the floor. I didn't want to admit, even in my mind, that what he was saying was true, but I had taken his fucks, both in my mouth and my ass. I couldn't deny what he was saying. Plus, my cock was giving me away just like he said. "Why don't you get on your knees right where you are, faggot? You look best on your knees." He paused and grinned again. "Well, on your knees with my dick in your mouth, that is." I dropped to my knees on the wooden floor and looked at him again. His cock was rock hard and poking out of the fly of his boxers. He was slowly stroking it as I watched. My eyes seemed glued to it. "I know you like what you see, cocksucker. Why don't you get over here and put those sweet lips to good use? I wanna see you crawl on the floor to suck me off." I did as he asked, crawling on my knees to the couch until my head was over his crotch. He smelled spicy and musky, a smell that I now associated with sex. As my face hovered over his crotch, he reached up with one hand and grabbed a fistful of my hair. With the other hand, he aimed his cock upward, pointing it at my mouth. Slowly, almost teasingly, he pushed my head downward, milking the long shaft of his cock as he did it. I watched a shiny drop of precum appear just before the head of his cock reached my lips. I obediently let his manhood slide into my mouth, closing my lips around it and running my tongue across the head. The salty taste of his precum coated the tip of my tongue and I listened to him sigh in pleasure. I only had a few seconds to savor the taste as Jay kept up the pressure on my head, forcing my lips further down the length of his cock. He moved his other hand to the top of my head, holding it firmly. My mouth which had been watering since the sight of his bare chest in the doorway was flooded now at the taste of his cock. I sank down, his cock going deeper and deeper into my mouth until the head lodged in my throat. The pressure continued until my throat stretched around his large cockhead. It slid inside and I fought the urge to gag. In seconds, my nose was pressed against the cotton of his boxers. Jay held me there for a second then released my head. I looked up his body as he put his hands behind his head, pulling up to the head of his dick as I did so. He was watching me. "You know what to do, cocksucker. Make my cock happy. Make it squirt a big load of cum down your throat, you cocksucking faggot." His language and tone just made me even hornier and I forced my mouth back to the base of his thick cock. I began to bob up and down his shaft, using my tongue on the head and my lips to milk the shaft. I was rewarded with moans of pleasure from Jay. After a few minutes, his hips began to thrust upward slightly each time I sank down his cock. Together we worked his cock in and out of my mouth and throat. I had one hand on his flat belly, feeling the muscles tighten each time he lifted his hips. My other hand was on my own cock, stroking it at the same pace I was taking his cock in my mouth. "You should see yourself, whiteboy. On your knees again with your lips stretched by my big black prick and beating yourself off while you do it. Oh yeah! That is such a hot sight! Use more suction, faggot." I increased the suction of my mouth on his cock. "That's right! Oh fuck yeah! Gonna shoot, whiteboy. Gonna shoot my load right into your cocksucking mouth! Fuck yeah, take it, faggot! Take it all!" He moaned loudly "Ahhhh AH ahhhh AH ahhh AH ahhh AH," punctuating each of his spurts with a louder moan. Jay's hot cum shot into my mouth, hitting the roof of my mouth, filling my cheeks. I let it settle on my tongue, enjoying the taste for a few seconds before I swallowed this black stud's sperm. I glanced up at his face again as my troat worked to take his load into my belly and his eyes were fixed on me, watching me swallow his cum. I milked the last of his load from his softening cock with my lips until he reached down and pulled my mouth off. Panting, I looked up at him again. "You are a natural born cocksucker, whiteboy, but you are definitely getting better with practice. I'm still pretty hard, but you're gonna get me even harder before I plug your boypussy again. I'll plug you hard and fast like I would any whore before I fill you with my seed. Sound good to you faggot?" "Yessir," I said. "Good, then get these shorts off me." I pulled at the waistband as he raised his hips, stripping him naked. His glorious tight body was stretched out on the couch for my eyes to drink in and admire. As I watched, Jay pulled his feet forward, then reached behind his knees and pulled them to his chest. I kept stroking my cock. "My balls, whiteboy. Suck on them. Now!" Not wasting any time, I leaned forward and sucked at his sac. I could feel his big balls under my lips and tongue. His sac was covered with some sparse hair. I tried to suck both of his balls in my mouth, but had to settle for just one. He moaned appreciatively as I did it. I worked on the skin with my tongue which made his body twitch. I was happy that I could cause that reaction in him. I bathed his ball with my tongue for a minute before switching to the other one. "Yeah, suck my balls, whiteboy. You fucking cocksucker! You are getting me hot! Get up on the couch so I can watch you do it better." I obeyed and crawled onto my knees on the couch. I could now see his cock better too. I looked at it and saw it growing again. It still wasn't as hard as it had been when he shot his cum down my throat though. I worked harder on his balls and looked up past his dick along his abs and chest to his face. He was watching me suck his balls. "Trying to get me to full mast, pussyboy?" I nodded still sucking on his nuts. "Then time to go lower." I wasn't sure what he meant until he put his hand on the top of my head and started to push. His balls slid out of my mouth and I knew what he wanted. For a second I thought of refusing, stopping him, but then a desire to submit to him and get him hard enough to fuck me washed through me. I let my tongue slide down to his ass. I found his hole with the tip of my tongue and circled around it, trying to get used to the idea of what I was doing to Jay. I was actually licking the stud's ass! Not only that, I was doing it so that his cock would get hard and he would fuck me with it again. I took a broad swipe with my tongue across his hole and heard him moan deeply again. He was enjoying this. I lapped at him again and again, getting his hole wet. "Stick your tongue in, bitch. It's about the closest you'll ever get to fucking me." I aimed the tip of my tongue at his hole and drove it in. Jay went wild, bucking underneath me, twisting around and twitching in pleasure. I moved my tongue forward and back, the way he did with his cock in my hole. I saw that his cock was now hard as steel and watched as Jay's big hands clenched against the couch, then released, then clenched again. He only lasted another few seconds. Before I knew it, he was moving. He rolled out from under my mouth and grabbed the back of my neck. Pulling me forward, he moved beside the couch. As I fell onto my stomach, Jay moved on top of me, laying on top of me and covering me completely. I could feel his cock rubbing along the crack of my ass as he slowly humped me. "Time for you to take another load, whiteboy. Hope you are ready for your pussy to be fucked!" He suddenly aimed his cock in and rammed into me. Even though I had taken it twice before, I let out a shout of pain. "Oh God!" I yelled. He clamped a hand over my mouth and forced every inch into me. I could feel his hot breath against the back of my neck. "Shut up and take it you fucking white faggot. You want all your other tenants to know you're up here getting fucked by me? Take my big black dick!" I was lost between pain at his penetration and pleasure from the full feeling of him inside me. His cock was thick and hot and throbbed in me. The precum that he had been leaking was all the lube he used and it had hurt like hell, but I was beginning to adjust. I felt Jay pull his hips back, his retreating cock leaving me feeling empty before he rammed back into me. He began to hump me in earnest, obviously wanting to cum. For a few minutes we continued like that with me face down on the couch, the wight of his body holding me down. Then Jay grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up to take me doggie style. He spit on his cock a few times while still pumping and it slid in and out more easily. I was moaning like the whore he made me. "Yeah bitch. Take it like a dog. You fucking pussy. You live to get reamed out by my big black cock. Oh fuck yeah! Take my dick, slut. I may have taken your pussy, but you'll give it up to me now anytime, won't you, whiteboy?" "Ahh, fuck, yes Jay. Anytime you want it." I probably would have said anything. I felt his hand suddenly close around my cock and reacted like I was struck by lightning. I could feel my hole clamping down onto his invading dick as he squeezed my cock harder and harder. He didn't stroke me, but just that contact with his hand was heaven. I was now moving backwards to meet each of his thrusts. "That's right bitch. You are getting to be a better pussyboy as well as a better cocksucker, whiteboy. Keep milking my cock like that and I'm gonna plant my seed in ya! Ahh fuck yeah. That's it bitch. Take my meat!" He pounded into me for another dozen strokes before he pulled out of me. Roughly twisting me around, forcing me to turn, he manhandled me onto my back. I looked up and our eyes met as he drove his cock into me again. "I wanna watch your face while I fuck your brains out and when I cum in you whiteboy. Beat your meat while I fuck you!" I grabbed my cock, jacking off like crazy. His cock filling me had me out of my mind. My balls were tightening up and I was close to cumming. Jay lowered his face to just inches above mine. "Gonna cum!" he announced. I saw him tense and the cords in his neck stand out and he thrust in deeply. That penetration set me off and I shot my load, covering our bellies and even hitting my chin with the first shot. Jay gave me two more small thrusts and let out a roar of pleasure, filling me with his cum. His eyes were locked onto mine as he filled me again with his sperm. It seemed to go on forever, his body shaking in pleasure but then he lowered himself onto me, our chests stuck together with my cum. He settled his head next to mine and relaxed, his cock buried deeply inside me. I waited, my legs still wrapped around his broad back, content to lay under him, full of his cock and cum until he wanted to move.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/black-mans-white-pussyboy-1

Date: Tue, 30 Jan 2001 14:11:29 EST From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy Black Man's White Pussyboy by Percxyz@aol.com I led Jay into the apartment. He was looking for a one bedroom, furnished place and had called about my ad in the newspaper. I hoped to rent this place quickly, then I would be full and could devote my time to some maintenance and repairs rather than showing places. I looked at the rental application he had filled out just a minute earlier. From the date listed as his birth date, he was 22 years old, three years younger than I. I watched him, explaining about the living room area and kitchen, as he moved about the place. Jay's skin was about the darkest I had ever seen. He was about six foot three, a couple inches taller than me, and moved like a cat on the prowl. Unexpectedly, I felt a stirring in the khaki shorts I was wearing. What the fuck was up? I had never been attracted to a guy before! But he seemed to draw my eyes and my cock was definitely on the rise. He disappeared into the kitchen and I heard him opening some cabinets. I willed my cock to soften and it obeyed a little. I studied his application to try to distract myself, but then he came back around the corner in to the living room. "Where's the bedroom?" he asked. "Umm. Just down this hall," I pointed to my left. "The bathroom is the first door and the bedroom is at the end." "And it has a double bed?" "Yeah," I replied. "Show me." I led Jay down the short corridor, opening the bathroom door for him to see. It was neat and clean. Then I led him the next few steps to the bedroom. The door was open and he pushed past me. His shoulder and arm brushed across my chest as he moved through the doorway. My cock was now rock hard. I watched him walk to the closet and open the door. As he checked it out, I checked out his body. Jay was tall and muscular, but not overly developed. He wore some long shorts and a tight fitting white t-shirt which contrasted sharply with his black skin. I felt my cock throbbing as I watched him move to the window and look out. His body was turned toward me a bit and my eyes searched his crotch, trying to determine what was there. I seemed to not be in control of myself. I don't know how long I stood staring at his body and his crotch, but it seemed that all of a sudden he was beside me, closing the bedroom door. As I heard the door click shut, I looked up at his face in surprise. "What's up?" I asked. "Besides your dick, man? You've been staring at me since I walked into the place and your hard-on is so obvious it must be painful. I figured I better help you with your problem." He said this with a smile, but his eyes seemed penetrating, looking into mine with a possessive stare. I didn't know what to say. "No, um, I, um. You got it wrong buddy. I'm not.." "Not what?" he interrupted. "You are certainly hard and you have definitely been checking me out. I'm just gonna give you what you need." As he said this, Jay reached to his waist, grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His chest was magnificent! Not overly broad, but toned and hairless. His dark nipples stood out on top of his well defined pecs. I didn't even realized what I was doing when I licked my lips, but he noticed it. "Guess I must look tasty, huh whiteboy?" Jay stepped up to me and grabbed my right wrist. He pulled my hand to his crotch and rubbed it against the growing log in his shorts. "Take off your shirt, whiteboy." It wasn't a request and I looked into his eyes for a second, before dropping my gaze. In a daze, I obeyed, pulling my polo shirt over my head and dropping it on the floor. "That's right, whiteboy. Show me my new toy." Jay reached out with both hands and grabbed my nipples. As he squeezed I felt my knees go weak. God it felt good! I had never been touched by another man like this. I realized that I was still rubbing his now hard cock and started to pull my hand away. I felt Jay's fingers clamp down harder on my nipples. I looked into his eyes again. "First, drop your shorts, whiteboy. Then, get me out of mine." I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I started to protest, but the pressure increased again on my nipples. My hand went to the button of my shorts, popped it open and then undid the zipper. I slid them down my legs with my boxers, embarrassed, but still very turned on by this sexy black stud. My hard seven inches slapped up against my abs as my shorts dropped. "Nice cock for a whiteboy. Now, get mine free." I immediately worked his shorts open, then slid them down his legs. He wore no underwear. His big black cock was rock hard. It was obviously longer than mine, by about an inch and a half. I had never seen a hard cock up close other than my own, much less a black one, and just stared at it. Jay let me stare for a while, then released my left nipple and used his hand on my chin to raise my face until I was looking at him again. "You like what you see, whiteboy. That much is obvious. Go ahead. Touch it." I hesitantly reached out with my right hand and let it close around his thick meat. I was actually holding another guy's hard cock! "Stroke it some for me, whiteboy." I obeyed immediately and was rewarded with a low moan of pleasure from deep in his chest. Jay slid his hands to my shoulders and began to push down on them. Still in a daze, I let him guide me to my knees at his feet. "You look good on your knees, whiteboy. How many cocks have you sucked? Ever had any black dick?" Somehow I found my voice. "Never," I nearly whispered. "I've never sucked cock, Jay." "A virgin mouth? Well that's gonna change here in about ten seconds. Open those pretty white lips boy. You're gonna take every inch of my meat." God! He really wanted me to suck him. I wasn't a cocksucker! Besides he was younger than me. Why should I suck him? I started to protest and he used that opening to slide the head of his cock into my mouth. Instead of a protest, I found myself looking up at him towering over me, the two of us joined by his cock in my mouth. It was both steely hard and velvety soft at the same time. As he moved his hips forward, sinking another inch into my mouth, I quit my resistance. This young black jock had put me on my knees and shoved his cock in my mouth. I was now a cocksucker. He confirmed this a second later. "That's right whiteboy. Now you're my cocksucker. Mmmmm. Use your tongue on the head, cocksucker. Ahhh yeah! That's the way. Now, time to take more." He shoved another couple inches into my mouth until the flared cockhead was at the entrance to my throat. I was focused on his wiry pubic hair getting closer to my lips, when he grabbed my head and turned my face up to look at him again. He started stroking his cock in and out of my mouth, the head punching against the entrance to my throat each time. "Fuck yeah! You are a great cocksucker, whiteboy. You sure you never sucked dick before?" I could only grunt in affirmative. "Then you are a natural, faggot. You were born to suck cock. Ahhhh, yeah! You suck dick like you been doing it all your life. Oh, hell yeah. That's right whiteboy. Suck my big black cock! Damn that feels so good. Time to take more." With that, his next stroke didn't stop when his head reached my throat. Instead, he used brute force to ram his cock further, choking me. I heard him laugh. "Do it faggot! Choke on my black cock! You look great there on your knees with your hot white lips stretched around my cock and playing with your own white meat like a little boy." He pulled back for a second, then forced his way into my throat again. Before I had time to start choking, he withdrew, then slammed in again. He set up his pace slowly taking more and more of my throat, working until I had his entire length inside me. I realized he was right, I was stroking my own cock rapidly as he fucked my mouth. "Oh, yeah! Take it boy. You still got another couple inches to go. Fuck yeah, lick the head. Now some more. Just another inch. That's right boy. Fuck yeah! You got it all! You're a natural born cocksucker, whiteboy. You were made for this. Ahhh yeah, that is great. You were born to suck cock, faggot. Oh fuck yeah, you make my cock feel great, boy. You are the best cocksucker that's ever tasted my meat. Suck me boy. Make me feel good." The words hit my mind like a sledgehammer. I didn't realize it until years later, but these were basically the same words guys had used for centuries to make other guys feel that sucking their cock was the right thing to do. He was just saying whatever was necessary to keep his dick in my mouth. But at the time, it seemed like the highest praise. Suddenly, I realized something and when he pulled back, I let his dick slide completely out of my mouth. Looking up at him, I asked, "You'll warn me before you cum, right?" "Sure thing cocksucker. Plenty of warning. Now get back to work!" Reassured, I let his cock slide back into my mouth. Covered with spit now, it was easy to take. Jay wasted no time regaining his pace and began to fuck my mouth harder and harder. I curled my lips over my teeth to make it easier for him. "That's the way boy. Like I said, a natural cocksucker. Damn you are good!" He breath was coming faster now, almost panting. I felt his hands on my head, guiding me up and down his cock at times, other times holding me in place for his moving hips. Jay pulled my head towards him as he thrust his hips forward and my nose was buried in his pubes. He leaned forward some so that my forehead was pressed against his abs. "Gonna cum!" he shouted. I started to pull back and off his cock. I got my mouth about halfway before he stopped me with his hands. I tilted my head back a little and raised my eyes. They met his gaze just as his first throbbing spurt of cum shot into my mouth. "Take it faggot!" he hissed. "Swallow my fucking cum!" Five more spurts followed the first and I had no choice but to choke and drown or swallow this black stud's seed. He watched and his face lit up with a grin as my throat muscles worked and I swallowed the cum filling my mouth. Keeping one hand on my head, he used the other to milk his cock, leaving just the head in my mouth. I tasted another salty drop of his sperm before he pulled out completely. His cock was still almost fully hard. "You said you were gonna warn me," I complained. "Did warn you, faggot. That doesn't mean I wasn't gonna cum in your mouth. That's what you do to cocksuckers. Why else would I put my dick in your mouth?" He reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair on the top of my head. He pulled me to my feet and looked down my body. "Yeah, you look nice, whiteboy. Still hard too. This is gonna be fun." Jay pushed me a bit then stated moving me backwards. My legs hit the side of the bed and he landed on top of me, our cocks rubbing together. Jay's handsome face was just inches from mine and I stared at him, moaning as he worked his cock, humping mine with his. Jay watched me and seemed to be enjoying rubbing our cocks together. I didn't even notice as he slid first his right leg between mine, then his left. The friction from his cock on mine was all I cared about. Then he looked me in the eye. "Got one of your cherries. Time to take the other." I froze, staring up at him. "No, Jay, please. You can't do that! I don't wanna get fucked up the ass! Please, let me suck you again!" "Already begging to blow me again, huh faggot? Well, lemme tell ya something whiteboy, I can fuck you and I'm gonna. Not only that, you're gonna love it! Look at your cock, whiteboy. You are still hard as a rock! If you didn't want me to make you my white pussyboy, would your cock still be hard? Trust me, whiteboy, you cum swallowing dudes all take it up the ass. Might not like it right at first, but you will real soon." Jay's hands slid behind my knees and he pushed my legs back, rolling me up onto my shoulders. He spread my legs wide, giving himself all the access he needed. "No, please! Don't do that to me, Jay! I've never been fucked. Your cock is too big! Please don't." Jay just gave me a grin and the spit on my exposed hole a half dozen times or so. I watched him as he raised up on his knees, his sculpted chest moving forward and over me. As his face settled above mine, I felt the head of his cock press against my hole. I could feel my eyes widening as he began to push forward. I tried one last time. "Please, Jay. Please don't fuck my ass. Your cock is too big for me to take. You can't fuck me." He paused over me, his eyes locking on mine. "Can't?" he asked. He thrust his hips forward and I felt the head of his cock stretch me open. I groaned in pain and felt my eyes start to water. My breath was coming in shallow gasps. "Oh god! It hurts. God!" I yelled. "Your new god is two inches up your tight pussy, whiteboy. I'll hold still and let you get used to it for a second. No need to rip you open." He did as he said, stopping his relentless penetration and watching my face closely. I had never been so embarrassed. I had a man on top of me whose cock was actually inside of me. I also had a bellyful of this dude's cum! I let out a moan, realizing that my ass was actually adjusting to his intrusion. I had closed my eyes, but now opened them. Jay's face was just inches above mine, still watching me closely. He must have seen what he wanted, because he began to move his hips again. This time he moved them in circles, probing inside me at different angles. "Oh god," I moaned, not in pain this time. I looked at him again, our eyes meeting. "You got the head, whiteboy, now for the shaft." Staring into my eyes, Jay slowly but determinedly sank the length of his cock into me until I felt his wiry pubes scratching my cheeks. "Now you got it all, whiteboy. Now you are my pussyboy. Gonna fuck this hot pussy a lot!" So saying, he dragged his hips backward until just the head remained inside me, then rammed back home. Longdicking me, he fucked me for a solid five minutes. Both of us were sweating and I realized that I was now arching my back to meet his thrusts. I couldn't believe that I was actually enjoying being fucked by another man! Jay had been supporting himself over top of me with both his arms. Now he lowered his chest onto mine. His warm skin rubbed my hard dick. "Getting fucked gives you a hard-on, whiteboy. Tells me just how much you like being a pussy for a real man." He thrust his cock in deeply as he said this, making me moan again. Jay's cheek was next to mine and he was whispering into my ear what a good fuck I was, how tight my hole was and how much he was gonna enjoy using it whenever he wanted. I looked down his body, admiring the muscles flexing in his tight back, watching as the globes of his ass raised and lowered, feeling his cock moving in me as he did it. His whispered words were getting to me. I was his pussyboy. He was a real man who was fucking me. I was there to please him, to be used by him. I would give up my mouth or ass whenever and however he wanted. I was his full time bitch, his white pussyboy. I lay there on my back, taking in these words and thoughts just as I was taking his cock in me. Jay raised himself up again on his arms and looked down. His beautiful chest was glistening with sweat and all of his muscles stood out from the exertion of his fuck. His eyes met mine again. "You're leaking a bunch, pussyboy. You are really getting off on being fucked by me. Aren't you?" "Yes, Jay. I love being fucked by you. I love your big cock up inside me." Jay rewarded me with a grin. "I know you do boy. I knew you wanted this from the second I saw you staring at me with a big old hard on in your shorts. Besides, I told you that you'd love this when you were begging me not to put it in you." Jay suddenly pulled his cock out of me. "Wait, Jay, don't stop!" "Need it now, don't ya, pussyboy? Well don't worry, I'm gonna put it to you again. Get up on your hands and knees. I'm gonna fuck you like a dog, bitch." I quickly obeyed, scrambling around on the bed until I knelt before him on my hands and knees. I felt him move up closer behind me, then felt the head of his cock probing my entrance. Suddenly, Jay grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head, up and back, straining my neck. "Tell me what you want, faggot," Jay demanded. "Tell me what you need, whiteboy." "I want your cock inside me, Jay. I need you to fuck my ass with your big black cock!" "Fuck your what, faggot? Where do you want me to fuck you?" He yanked on my hair again. "M-my pussy, Jay! Fuck my pussy!" I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I was so caught up in the lust of the moment and Jay's domineering attitude that I was practically begging him to fuck me. Twenty minutes before, I would have punched anyone who suggested that I would let another man fuck me. Still firmly holding my hair, Jay rammed his cock into me. It felt even more intense taking the whole length of him like that. Jay pulled out completely then rammed in again. I moaned as he stuck me a third time. I could hear Jay laugh a little as he completed his fourth penetration. "So you like that, do you pussyboy? You like me pulling out and giving it to you all at once. Well fucking take it!" He began to fuck me faster, but still pulled completely out of me each time. I felt like I was being impaled by this black stud again and again. Jay fucked me like this for about five more minutes before he surprised me by not plunging in again. He released my hair and I let my head drop down. Jay moved to the side of the bed and lay on his back. I looked over to see him, hands folded behind his head, watching me. My eyes moved to his cock, still rock hard. "Climb on and ride it, whiteboy. I wanna watch you fuck yourself on my big cock." He grinned at me and I quickly moved over to him. Straddling his hips on my knees, I reached down and aimed his cock into my hole. Then I slid down on it, hearing Jay sigh in pleasure. I put my hands on his chest, feeling his muscles as I rode his cock. I played with Jay's nipples until they were as hard as his cock. Jay was moaning in pleasure and I realized that I was doing the same. I dropped my right hand to my cock and started beating my meat. I wanted to cum with this stud up inside me. Without warning me, Jay grabbed me and rolled me off his cock. I watched as he got off the bed and stood in the middle of the floor. His hard cock jutted up at an angle. "Come over here, pussyboy," Jay ordered pointing to the floor in front of him. I climbed off the bed, moved to where he had pointed and stood facing him. "Turn around," he said. I turned, facing away from him. I felt his hand on the back on my neck, then his other hand on my hip. He used them to bend me over and kicked at my ankles until I had spread my legs to his satisfaction. I felt him step up behind me, could feel the heat from his body as he moved in close. He put the head of his cock right up against my hole and pressed his chest against my back. "You want it again, whiteboy?" he whispered into my ear. "You wanna get fucked with my big black dick?" "Yes, Jay, please! Fuck me, stud!" "You got it, pussyboy." He thrust back into me, filling me with his cock again. I moaned in appreciation and clamped down hard on his cock. "Yeah, that's the way, whiteboy, keep it nice and tight for your stud's cock." Jay really began to fuck, humping me hard and fast. Both of our bodies shook with the force of his fucking. He pushed me forward and I leaned on the bed, bent over for this guy's use. Jay really plugged me, working his cock at all angles, filling me and making me moan. He was panting from the effort and I knew he had to be close to shooting his load. Jay quickly yanked his cock out of me and forced me back onto the bed. He grabbed my legs and flipped me onto my back. Still holding my ankles, Jay spread my legs as he climbed onto the bed with me. Jay wasted no time shoving his cock into me again. I was furiously beating my meat, nearly ready to cum myself. I looked at his face and saw he was staring at me. "I wanna watch your face when I pump your pussy full of cum," he said. "I'm almost there. Fuck yeah, bitch, take my cum!" His eyes bored into mine as I felt his cock throb and expand. Jay's entire body tensed as he began to cum up inside me. "Ahhh fuck yeah!" He nearly screamed. My own cock started to shoot just a second later. As this black stud shot his load of hot sperm inside me, I shot my own load all over my chest and abs. "Oh god!" I cried out as my cock spurted. Our eyes were still locked as we both came. "Told you faggot, your new god has his cock all the way up your pussy and is shooting his seed into you. Ahh fuck yeah, that is good!" The tension flowed out of Jay's body and I could feel his cock finally starting to soften. Jay let out a long, slow breath and slowly pulled his cock out of me. He collapsed onto his back next to me on the bed. I watched his chest rise and fall as he caught his breath. I felt empty now as I lowered my legs. Jay looked at me as he climbed off the bed. "You're a good fuck, whiteboy. That was really your first time?" He asked. I nodded. "Well, you took to sucking my dick like a two dollar whore, and that boypussy was tight and hot. But you sure ain't a virgin anymore, whiteboy." He laughed and walked to the bathroom. I heard the water running. I followed him to the bathroom, embarrassed now by what we had done. Jesus! I had let this guy fuck me six ways from Sunday! I could feel myself turning red. I stepped into the bathroom and the sight of him changed my thinking. He was bent over the sink and had cleaned off his cock. The view of the side of his body, muscles taut, skin glistening had my cock stirring again. He looked at me, then moved over a bit, giving me some room at the sink. I quickly washed my cum off my chest remembering that I had two loads of his cum in me. That thought quickly brought my cock back to life. "You're still hard, cocksucker? I would have thought you'd be worn out by now. What's got your dick up, boy? The sight of my hot body?" "Well, that, but I also was just thinking that I have two loads of you cum in me." "One deposit at each end," Jay laughed. "Seems to me you want more." He looked at me questioningly. "Well, um.." now that I had to say it, I was embarrassed again, "yes, yes I would like it again." "Well, I am gonna take the place, so you will know where to find me. You cut me a deal on the rent and I'll fuck you whiteboy. The better the deal the more you will get my big dick. Sound good to you?" "Yeah, yeah, that's fine," I mumbled. He was using his sexual hold over me to get the place cheap, but one look at his cock and I wanted it again. I could live with a little less rent from this one unit for the chance to spend more time with him. "Why don't you some over tomorrow at 10 am and you can help me move in. I will set some time aside when we're finished if you want." He knew damn well that I wanted it and I quickly agreed. He told me we would settle out the amount of rent tomorrow after his stuff was moved in. That would give me the night to think about it. The next day, pinned face down on the bed by Jay's hands on my wrists and his legs wrapped around mine with his cock thrusting in and out of me, I agreed to half the normal rent for as much more of this as I could get.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/black-mans-white-pussyboy-6

Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 13:56:13 EST From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy - Chapter 6 Black Man's White Pussyboy Chapter 6 by Percxyz@aol.com The black stud increased his pressure on my balls until I moaned in pain. I heard him laugh as I did it. I was still holding my legs pulled up to my chest, spreading myself like a slut for this stud to access. I felt like a total whore as I watched his cock get harder and harder, throbbing with his heartbeat. I looked at it, then let my eyes run up his abs and chest to his face. He had some hair in a line beneath his navel and a spray of dark hairs on his pecs. My eyes found his and I saw his look of contempt. He moved over me, on top of me. Between my legs, he supported himself with his arms on either side of my chest. I could smell the sweat he had worked up fucking me the first time. He looked me in the eye, his face only an inch or two from mine and I felt his cock probing around for my hole. Soon, he had the head of his dick lodged at my entrance. To my surprise, he held it there and didn't shove into me. "So whiteboy, you like where you are? You like being on your back with your legs spread and my big black cock ready to ram your ass? That get you off?" There was no need to deny it. My cock was hard as steel again. "Yes sir. I love it. I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your cock up inside me again." Even though it was true, I couldn't believe my own words. Not two weeks earlier, I had been an average guy, dating and fucking women. Now I had willingly spread my legs and was on my back under a black stud whose name I didn't even know, a load of his cum already filling me and his cock ready to plow into me again. I didn't realize that I had closed my eyes until he issued his order. "Look at me, cunt!" I opened my eyes and he shoved forward, taking me for the second time. I moaned in pain and pleasure as I was filled with this young stud's thick black meat. He pushed in slowly, inch after inch of his dick sliding into me. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he made me his pussyboy for the second time. When he was fully inside me, he held his cock in place and I could feel it throbbing inside me. "How's that feel, whiteboy? How's it feel to get a man's cock shoved up your hole? How do you like Jay and me making you nothing but a pussy? Just a pussy, here to take our cocks. You got a cock, but we all know that you prefer to get another man's cock inside you." "Oh fuck," I moaned. "It feels so good. Please fuck me. Do it hard or soft, any way you want, just please fuck me." My voice sounded strange to my own ears, but I was rewarded by a smile on the black stud's face and he began to pull his cock out of me. He did this slowly too, until just the head remained lodged inside me. I groaned again. He rammed in suddenly, reaming my ass the way he had done when I had been on my hands and knees. He fucked hard and brutally, using my ass completely. His cock, lubed by the loads already inside me slid in and out. Sweat broke out on both of our bodies from the strain of his fucking and my moving in time with it. Watching him, I could tell he was getting close to cumming. To my surprise, he pulled out completely. He quickly moved up my body and aimed his cock between my lips. As I took him between my lips, I could taste the loads of cum and myself on his cock. "I told you, I like cumming in guy's mouths. You will be the first white boy to drink my jizz." His hips had not stopped their thrusting as he drove into my mouth with as much force as he had used in my ass. With a loud yell, he began to shoot. "Drink it, faggot! Drink my goddamned cum! Take it all you worthless slut. Ahhhhh, fuck yeah. That's right. Now swallow it all down." He watched as my throat muscles worked. "That's right boy. Now you got two black men inside you forever." He had been panting, but now his breathing began to ease. I felt his cock softening a bit, but then he ran his hands across his chest and I felt the blood pumping back into his dick. I was getting ready for another face or ass fuck when Jay spoke up. "OK, Bobby, pull out. Bring my pussyboy with you and come out here into the living room." I saw a look of defiance in Bobby's eyes, but he did as Jay asked, pulling his hard cock out of my mouth and climbing off the bed. I followed him, my cock standing up and throbbing as much as his as we walked into the living room. Jay was sitting on the couch. He was still naked and his cock was at half mast. "Have a seat, Bob." Jay looked at me. "You can sit on the floor at my feet, faggot." We both took our seats, me on the floor, Bobby next to Jay on the couch. "So," Jay asked Bobby, "how was it. I saw you got his mouth. So you've had both ends. What do you think?" "Felt good man. No doubt about that. And doing it to a white dude. Making him take it up the ass and then swallow my cream. That is the shit! I could do it all night long! Never had a white boy suck my load before." "You been blown by a guy before?" Jay asked. He had either caught the reference to a white boy or had heard Bobby tell me how much he liked having his cum swallowed by another male. Bobby looked a little embarrassed, but answered. "Yeah, I've had my dick sucked by Chris before." "Chris? The guy that hangs in your group? Young guy, about 5' 6 or 5'7"? Light skinned?" "That's the one. Latino dude," Bobby replied. "How'd that happen?" Jay asked. "Fucker pissed me off one day and I decided to teach him a lesson. Put him on his knees and shoved my dick in his mouth. Kid was probably only 16 or so at the time. He cried about it, but he took it and he swallowed my load too. He didn't have to do that. That's when I knew he really liked it. I've used his mouth more than once," Bobby admitted. "I'd like a crack at him," Jay said. "Never bagged a Hispanic guy before, but he would be a good one. How's his ass? Tight?" "Never fucked him. He whined and cried so much, trying to get me to promise not to tell anyone he had sucked my cock that I just kept plugging his mouth to keep him quiet. You don't think he'd take it up the ass, do you?" "Fucker drank your cum, bro. He'll take it up the ass. Same as this fag here. He'll bitch and moan and tell you he won't, but you just stick it to him and pretty soon, he'll be loving it. You don't give cunts like these a choice. They need it, even if they don't know it. This whiteboy begged me not to fuck him, but was begging me not to stop before you knew it. You see how he is now. Takes it up the ass from any man I tell him to service. Which leads me to the deal we should cut." "Deal?" Bobby asked. "Yeah. You can use this one whenever you want if you give me Chris to use whenever I want. Otherwise, it is twenty bucks to fuck him and fifteen for a blowjob." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Jay was gonna pimp me out to his buddy, or trade my services for a shot at this Chris guy. I wanted to protest, but knew it would be useless. I was here to serve Jay and he had made it clear that I was his property - a sex toy. I watched as Bobby thought it over. "I'm not paying you to fuck this cunt. I'll get you Chris, but I want to take his cherry. Deal?" "Deal." The two dominant black studs shook hands. "Get your mouth on my cock, faggot!" Jay ordered. I leaned forward and took the head in my mouth, getting it wet and slowly sliding down the length. "Why don't you give Chris a call?" Jay suggested. Bobby grabbed the phone and dialed. I listened to his side of the conversation as I sucked Jay. "Yo, Chris, Bobby. I want you to come over to Jay's place for a while. Yeah now, stupid. Get your ass over here. You've got ten minutes." He hung up. "He'll be here. He's so worried that I will tell the guys he sucks cock he jumps anytime I ask him to do anything." I continued to work my mouth up and down the length of Jay's cock, getting a moan out of him. I looked up and saw Bobby looking at me. "Damn, that whiteboy can suck. He took me all the way. Chris still can't do that and he's given me head probably fifty times" "Well, by the time he leaves here, he will," Jay promised. I wondered what the guy would think when he arrived. I knew that he would find me naked, probably sucking Jay or Bobby, or getting fucked. Would he think he was there to do the same or realize that these two young studs planned on taking him beyond the cocksucking he had already done. Jay held my head with both hands, slowly working my mouth up and down his cock. Bobby watched, slowly stroking his own meat which was rock hard again. I don't know how long this went on, but eventually there was a knock at the door. Bobby got up and I guess checked through the peephole to see who it was since whoever came through the door would find all three of us naked and my mouth stuffed with black cock. I heard the door opening and Bobby's voice. "Hey Chris. About time you got here. As you can see I need some of those special services you provide." Bobby was making Chris's status clear from the beginning. A new voice spoke up next. "Shit, Bobby. You can't make me do that here. Why are you fucking naked? What is.." The voice cut off and I knew that Chris had seen me, on my knees, head still held by Jay with his cock in my throat. "Holy shit," Chris said softly. I heard the door shut and Bobby spoke. "You can see we got one cocksucker here already. Jay and I decided that two's better than one." Bobby settled back onto the couch next to Jay. "So why don't you just strip down and get your mouth on my dick?" "Bobby! You promised. You promised you would never tell anyone about...." He trailed off. "About you sucking my cock?" Bobby asked. "About you swallowing my load each time? You're right, but things have changed. Jay and I cut a deal, so strip!" The tone was forceful and commanding. I know I would have obeyed and apparently Chris did. I heard a zipper being drawn and Jay commenting that the guy had a nice body. He released my head, I guess having made his point that I was his cocksucker and I turned to look at the new arrival. Chris stood a little more than five and a half feet, shorter than the three of us. He was very light skinned and probably would have even passed for Italian or white until you saw his cock. It was brown and darker and I could tell Chris had some Latino blood in him. He had a confused look on his face under his almost buzzcut hair. His body was well proportioned and muscular. The haircut made him look kind of like a Marine. He saw me looking at him and blushed. He made one last attempt. "Please Bobby. Not here. Not in front of them. I will do it for you anywhere else, any time you say, but not with other guys in the room." I knew his words would have no effect. "Listen, boy," Bobby said. "If you aren't on your knees with my cock in your mouth in five seconds, I am gonna beat the crap outta ya and you'll still suck me off. You've sucked me plenty, now do it!" I watched as Chris walked over to Bobby, his own cock now getting hard and sank to his knees. He glanced at me as he leaned forward and took the head of Bobby's thick black cock into his mouth. Bobby put a hand on the back of his head and began to push downward, forcing more and more of his cock into Chris's mouth. Chris began to gag and Bobby stopped pushing. "See?" he said to Jay, "he can't take it all." "Just keep pushing and move your hips or his head around until you get the right angle. He'll take it." Bobby pushed harder and Chris gagged again, but more and more of Bobby's cock disappeared into his mouth. Then I noticed something. Chris had begun to stroke his meat. He had about six or seven inches and was leaking precum like crazy. His reaction to having Bobby force feed him cock was to begin to beat off. Jay turned my head and pushed me back onto his own cock and for a few minutes the only sounds were the moans and sighs of Jay and Bobby and the slurping, sucking sounds that Chris and I made. "How about we switch?" Jay suggested. He pulled my mouth off his cock and turned me towards Bobby. I saw Chris come up with a stunned look on his face. He glanced at me, then Jay, then looked at Bobby. "Sure thing," Bobby said, looking at Chris. I moved behind Chris, giving him room to move between Jay's outstretched legs, but he was still in shock apparently. "Bobby," he said. "No. You can't mean suck Jay's cock. Please. I will suck you. But suck another guy? Come on." It was almost a whine. Jay solved the problem by reaching over, grabbing Chris by the hair and pulling him in front of him. Jay struggled, but he was on his knees and Jay had a tight grip on his short hair "Suck it, you worthless shit. Now!" I watched as Chris submitted, taking Jay's cock into his mouth. Jay was relentless, forcing every inch of his meat into the struggling young man's throat. I heard him choking and gagging, but had my own worries. Bobby pulled my face into his crotch and I took his spit soaked cock into my mouth. "Time to shoot a load, Jay?" Bobby asked. "Hell yeah. I wanna see this boy swallow my seed." Chris was still struggling some, but Jay was now fucking upwards with his hips, impaling Chris's head again and again. I kept sucking Bobby, but turned my head enough to watch the action. I had never seen Jay with anyone else and found myself admiring his strength and dominance as he took Chris's mouth and fucked it like a pussy. Soon, both men were nearing orgasm. I felt Bobby's body tensing and knew he was about to cum. A glance at Jay confirmed he was at the edge too. Jay let loose about five seconds before Bobby, letting out a series of quick, short moans with each spurt of cum. Bobby let out a long moan as he filled my mouth again. I swallowed his seed and he suddenly pushed me away. I fell backwards, onto my butt on the floor and looked at Jay and Chris. Chris's cheeks were puffed out and I could tell he was holding Jay's load in his mouth. "Swallow," Jay ordered. When Chris hesitated, Bobby added his command, and I watched as the stud let Jay's cum slide down his throat. Jay and Bobby both had huge grins on their faces as Jay pushed Chris away as Bobby had done to me. We ended up sitting at the feet of the two black studs we had just sucked, our own cocks hard and leaking, wondering what would happen next. I had a pretty good idea. Chris was about to lose his cherry ass to Bobby. The thought really got me excited. I wanted to see it happen. I knew how it had hurt when Jay had taken me, but remembered how much I had ended up loving it. I wondered if the stud on the floor next to me would react the same way. Jay told me to get some beers and I went to the kitchen. When I returned, Chris was standing in front of the two dark skinned studs, slowly beating his meat. I could tell by his frustrated look, they weren't going to let him cum. I knew what they were doing. They were getting Chris as worked up and horny as possible just so he could get fucked up the ass by Bobby. Remembering how roughly Bobby had fucked me, I wondered if the shorter, muscled stud could take it that way his first time. I handed the beers around and we all drank for a few minutes, then Jay suggested going to the bedroom. Chris was clearly confused. I could tell that he thought he had done his part. He had sucked Bobby and then Jay and had even swallowed Jay's load. He had no idea what else was in store for him. I tried to think of a way to tell him, but couldn't. When Jay ordered me onto the bed doggie style, it was clear Chris knew what was going to happen. He tried one last attempt. "Hey Bobby, can I fuck the white dude too? I really need to get off." The look from Bobby answered everything and I saw resignation in Chris's eyes. "Get on the bed, Chris, facing the whiteboy, same position." Reluctance warred with submission on Chris's face and submission won. He climbed onto the bed, on his hands and knees, his face about a foot from mine. "See?"Jay said. "I told you. If they swallow cum, they will do anything. You just have to be firm." "Oh I am definitely firm," Bobby joked, stroking his meat. "Get some lube. It's in the drawer. Whiteboy here has enough cum in him but Chris is gonna need something and it will be better for you that way too, Bobby." Chris looked at me strangely upon hearing the news that I was already full of cum, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. I just let my head hang. The way the men had positioned us, our feet and calves were off the bed. This meant they could just step up behind us and shove their cocks into us. Chris was facing the mirror on the dresser and so would be able to watch as Bobby took his virginity. I felt Jay move in behind me and I spread my legs a bit more for him. "Watch carefully, Chris. Whiteboy has been trained pretty well and you are gonna need to learn all his tricks," Jay said. I watched as Bobby squeezed a tube of lube and smeared it all over his cock. He stepped up behind Chris, grabbing one of his legs and moving it to make more room. Chris looked at me pleadingly, but there was nothing I could do. The guy almost had tears in his eyes. His face was a mask of desperation, but there was also lust there. He gave me another look for help, but I had my own black stud behind me, ready to fuck my brains out too. The only difference was that I had taken cock before. As Jay lined up and I saw Bobby doing the same thing, I thought of one piece of advice. "Try pushing out when he starts to push in. The only way not to get fucked is to get up and get out." He stayed in place. "You're not gonna stop him getting in and it will make it easier on you." Chris nodded, his eyes full of fear as Bobby probed around his hole, but I saw that Chris's cock was still rock hard. Then Jay took me. It was one quick hard thrust and I let out an explosive gasp, my head snapping up. Chris looked up at Jay and looked shocked. I can only imagine the look of superiority and pleasure on Jay's face. I was being fucked in front of Chris and he watched in fascination, then Bobby found his hole and began to push. I heard Chris moan, in pain, not pleasure. "It will hurt at first, but let him get in and let your pussy adjust. You'll be fine." Chris looked even more shocked at being referred to as a pussy, but I knew that for Bobby, that is all he would be. I watched as Bobby's black hands grabbed Chris's sides and could see the effort he put into the initial penetration. Chris's eyes widened to saucers as he felt the cock invade him. He let out a scream of pain as the cock stretched his hole wider than it had ever been, and I watched as Bobby transformed Chris into a pussyboy in front of me. Chris let out another yell of pain as Bobby forced more of his cock into him and began to beg Bobby to stop. Bobby clapped one hand over his mouth, muffling his complaints, and continued. I saw him pause for a long moment, as my body was being shaken back and forth by Jay's thrusts and was glad to see Bobby was giving the kid a bit of time to adjust. Now that we were almost face to face, I could tell Chris was only eighteen or nineteen. Definitely younger than Bobby. Maybe that explained some of the black skinned stud's total dominance of the young man. Bobby got his whole cock into Chris and held still again. Jay kept up his thrusting assault on me. I was getting pushed further forward onto the bed until my face and Chris's were just an inch or so apart. "Kiss each other," Jay commanded. "No way. I don't fucking kiss guys!" Chris protested. The kid was cute in his futile protests. "You are getting fucked up the ass by a man, you've swallowed his cum and mine and you already sucked whiteboy's spit off my cock earlier. Now kiss!" We obeyed, our mouths meeting. He had stubble on his chin and I found that suddenly to be very sexy. At first it was a war of tongues, each of us trying to penetrate the other's mouth, then Jay smacked my ass. I don't know if it was his intention or not, but I suddenly submitted and allowed Chris free reign. His tongue probed me, exploring my mouth the way I would do to a woman and I knew that I had lost a contest of will with the only other submissive male in the room. I wondered what that would mean for later. Chris was now beginning to move back and forth as Bobby slowly began to fuck the guy. I watched as the well developed muscles in Chris's shoulders tensed each time Bobby thrust in and he held himself in place. Jay was fucking harder and out mouths broke apart several times as Bobby and Jay fucked at different speeds. Each time they met, I meekly accepted Chris's tongue in my mouth. I could see from the look on his face that even though he was taking it up the ass from a black stud, he was enjoying dominating me in this small way. I thought that Jay would last a long time, having already shot several loads, but with surprising speed he reached orgasm. Chris watched him as he filled my guts yet again with his hot cum. Not wasting time, he yanked his cock out, making me gasp in pain and desire. I wanted to be full again, but Bobby had other plans. "I want Chris to cum with my cock up his ass," he told me. I looked and Bobby, his dark muscles chest shining with sweat, was fucking hard. Not as roughly as he had treated me, but still hard. "Get underneath and suck him off," Jay commanded. I rolled onto my back and slid under Chris's body as it shook back and forth under Bobby's fucking. I opened my mouth and with the next forward thrust, Bobby drove Chris's cock into my mouth. I heard Chris moan in pleasure. He tried to fuck into my mouth, but had to be content with Bobby's pace. I figured that with my dick just under his face, he would suck me. I was dying to cum, to feel something other than a hand on my cock, but he didn't. "Oh shit. That feels so good!" Chris said. "Keep sucking me, boy. And keep fucking me Bobby. I never thought it would feel so good! Damn this guy can suck. Oh fuck yeah, deep like that!" My hopes of a blowjob from the hot Latino man were dashed. "No need to suck the white pussyboy," Jay said. He gets his rocks off with his hand, that's it. Chris only replied with a moan and his balls, which had been hitting my forehead, began to draw up. I could see where he and Bobby were joined, his little hole now stretched obscenely and filled with thick black cock. A few seconds later, Chris's entire body trembled and twitched and I felt my mouth fill with his hot cum. I swallowed it down, knowing all three would expect it. Bobby moaned about how good Chris's ass felt on his cock as he came in my mouth and shot his own load a minute later. I wondered what Chris thought, watching in the mirror as the dominant black stud filled his ass with his sperm. I slid out from beneath the spent young man as Bobby pulled his cock out of Chris's abused ass. Chris collapsed on the bed on his stomach, covered in sweat. He moaned again, then rolled over. I wasn't the only one with a cock that was still hard. "Hey Bob, how about another brew?" Jay asked. "Sounds good to me." "We can let these fags go at it and see who comes out on top. I think I know who it will be." The both turned and walked out of the bedroom. I was still on my hands and knees, looking at Chris's ass, but he moved behind me in a flash. With some newfound authority, he turned me around so I could see us in the mirror and mounted me. "You're gonna be my pussy now, whiteboy,' he said. Before I could move or protest, I felt him sliding into me. I knew that soon I would have another young man's cum in my ass. **************** Author's note. Thanks for all the email suggesting that I continue the story. Without them, this would not have been written. I would have moved on to other stories. If you want more, drop me an email and let me know. All rights reserved by author.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/in-gilberts-room

Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 04:40:40 +0800 From: tReSe Subject: KILT: In Gilbert's Room (t/t)(nc)(oral)(rape)(true) ======================================================================= Date : May 31, 2001 KILT : In Gilbert's Room (t/t)(nc)(oral)(rape)(true) Author : tReSe ======================================================================= Background on KILT: Kathang Isip Lamang ni Trese (KILT) is a collection of original writings, fiction, or non-fiction depicting gay erotic themes. You may copy KILT Stories for your personal reading pleasures. However, posting and redistributing any of these writings via electronic mail, publishing it in magazines, using it as film scripts, etc., is strictly prohibited. Only individuals, groups, web sites, publishing houses, film outfits, etc., that were given proper authorization reserve the right to post or redistribute these materials. ======================================================================= Disclaimer: The story you are about read contains gay erotic experiences. So, if you are not of legal age or your country, religion, moral universe etc., consider this writings to be perverse, then I suggest that you should find something else to read. And, if you should decide to read this type of literature, neither this site nor the author will be held accountable for your actions. ======================================================================= Author's Note: This is a true story. Names were changed to protect the identities of all parties involved. To read more KILT Stories, visit my free site @ http://tr3s3.pages.planetout.com ======================================================================= This story happened the night when Gilbert accidentally saw me on the roof jacking off. (Read in my site, "Jacking on the Roof.") That night, my neighbor, Gilbert, invited me to play monopoly. The whole night that we were playing, I felt that he was staring at my crotch and then he would grin. I got annoyed and asked him why he was doing that. He told me that he saw me jacking on the roof. I was so embarrassed and told him not to tell anyone. He told me that he wouldn't, if I repeated my performance in his room. Scared shitless out of my wits, I could feel my heart right in my throat. I couldn't speak, I couldn't think anything to say to save my sorry ass from this situation. What if he tells others what I did on the roof? What would happen to me? What would my parents say? How would I ever walk in the neighborhood without others laughing at me while I pass by? Man what a mess! Lost in my own thoughts, Gilbert then broke the silence by giving me an ultimatum. He told me that I have 30 seconds to decide whether I would do what he said or not. He started counting backward beginning with 30. Two or three counts after, I just shouted to him that I would do it. My face was red beet not only from embarrassment but moreso with anger. With his calm and arrogant way, he told me that I need not shout at him and that I was in no position to be so cocky about it. I stood there in front of him in silence. He laughed devilishly as he stood up and walked towards the door to lock it. Then he told me to lose my shorts. I tried to delay the inevitable by doing nothing and hanging my head low. Immediately, he walked back to me and pulled my shorts down exposing my flaccid cock. My shorts fell on my ankles and he asked me to step out of it. Resigning to his will, I did what I was told. Then he told me to go to his bed and start wacking my dong. As I headed to his bed, I was shaking violently. My knees felt weak, my heart was pounding hard like it would burst out of my ribcage and I felt cold sweat begun breaking in my forehead and back a bit. I laid on the bed, closed my eyes and held my flaccid cock with three fingers, index and middle fingers were situated under my soft shaft and thumb on the top. I tentatively diddled my dick reliving in my mind's eye all the porno films that I had seen, all the fantasies that I've ever had and almost everything I could think of that would make me spring a woody. But that proved to be futile. Not that I was a bit shy about being watched as I jack. I've been in a jacking session once with a bunch of my bus mates back when I was in second year high school. (Read in my site, "My Bus Mates, an X Taped and Me.") Hell, I just jacked off the roof hours earlier, for heaven sakes! And those two events aroused me much. I live for moments where I can have the opportunity to expose myself. But this time it was different. I was being coerced into doing something that I wasn't prepared to do. I was being blackmailed. Of course, it would difficult to produce an erection. I tried my hardest to get my cock to stand erect. But still nothing seemed to work. I've totally given up trying and told Gilbert that I couldn't do it. I was looking at him and he was half seated on the study table watching me. By the way he looked at me, I've never felt so small and exposed in my entire life. He stood straight and told me that perhaps he could do something about it. He then removed his shorts and I could see that his dick was a bit hard underneath his white brief. His basket looked so huge. I stared directly at his crotch and it seemed the more I looked the more aroused I get. He was laughing again and he said that he knew that exposing himself to me would help me get a woody. Dumbfounded at his statement, I looked up to him as he walked to the bed and kneeled in front of me. His basket was directly in face. I could smell the muskiness of his manhood. Somehow, this made me quivered. Fearing that I would exposed my desire to have his dick in my mouth. I turned my head away from his teen basket but he wouldn't have any of that. He grabbed me by the hair, which made me groan. He then pulled my face to his briefs and began grinding crotch hard to my face. I felt it throbbed. With his other hand he freed his package from his undies and it slammed hard to my face. I was a reluctant participant in this sexual power play. What if he was just testing me to find out if the rumors circulating in the neighborhood that might be gay was true? So, I pushed him away and tried to get off the bed. But I couldn't he grabbed me by the hair again and pulled my body back on the bed. Then he put his right foot on my chest and told him that it would be best for me not to fight him if I didn't want to get hurt. Before I could attempt to escape again, he saddled my chest and his throbbing steel resting in my lips. He told me to open my mouth but I refused. Then he slapped my face hard, which took me by surprise that I didn't utter a sound. He slapped it again and told me that we could do it the hard way or I could cooperate. I opened my mouth after the eighth blow to my face fighting back the tears from falling in my eyes. I opened my mouth and he roughly penetrated my mouth with his thick and long cock. I scrapped his head with my teeth as he was pulling out his cock a bit. He wacked my head again and grabbed my hair more violently with his two hands and began banging my mouth with his phallus forcefully. I was panicking because my gag reflex was starting to react and I couldn't breathe. His assault became more intense and his was nearing his orgasm. As he moaned, he slammed his phallus hard and began spurting his hefty load inside my mouth. I felt like I was drowning from waves of sperms flooding my throat. He kept on thrusting until his sacs were totally empty. He let his gripped lose from my head but his phallus was still slammed against my mouth. I threw his exhausted off mine and immediately run to his bathroom. My head was in the toilet bowl and I was vomiting hard. Not because I didn't like sucking a guy or having some guy's sperm down my throat, I was sick to my stomach because he had taken me out of my own free will. I was crying as I puke on the bowl. And when I was done, I saw him outside the door sober. He apologized for raping me. He added that he didn't know what possessed him to do it. I swung my right fist hitting him under the jaw. This made him lose his ground and fell on the floor. I kicked his stomach and then got my shorts on floor. He was still on floor crouching in pain. I knelt and grabbed his hair and told him what an asshole he was and that he'd better stay away from me or I'll kill the next time I see him. I pounded his head on the floor, kicked him in the back several times and spit on his face before leaving him. Luckily, I got off their house without anyone finding out what had happened. I easily got to my room without anyone seeing me. I looked in the mirror and saw that I had a terrible shine on my face. I went to bed and tried to bury the entire incident into oblivion. The morning after, I told my parents that I fell on the bed hitting my face on the ground. Fortunately they bought it. I never saw Gilbert again for the rest of the summer. Nearing Christmas, he tried to apologize but every time he would he ended up talking to my fist. Eventually, he stopped trying. Now, whenever our paths would cross he's wiser and takes a route instead. I never told him that I had already forgiven him. And I never told him that if he had asked me nicely, he didn't have to resort to violence in getting what he wanted. But I guess things just happen and you have to learn to let it go. I have. the end ======================================================================= I really love to hear what you think of my stories, for your comments, suggestions and constructive criticisms, kindly email me. Thanks :) tReSe email address : trese@bigfoot.com web site : http://tr3se.pages.planetout.com free email : http://tr3s3.mail.everyone.net icq # : 61973464 =======================================================================

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/black-mans-white-pussyboy/black-mans-white-pussyboy-5

Date: Sun, 25 Nov 2001 15:32:10 EST From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy Chapter 5 Black Man's White Pussyboy Chapter 5 By Percxyz@aol.com I pulled my mouth off Jay's thick, black cock. He was still hard, but I had to ask who was on the phone. I glanced at his face and he looked amused. I didn't know if he would answer me or not. Finally, he reached out with his right hand, guided his cock back between my lips and used his hips to drive into my throat. "The guy's a buddy of mine. Always wanted a faggot like you to fuck. Never had the chance. I decided that he'd get his wish. I think you'll like him, judging from the way you beg and moan and whine when I stick my dick in ya. He's a hard ass, probably someone you'd avoid if you saw him on the street, but I think you'll do just fine as his pussyboy too. Never seen his cock, but I guess that's gonna change." He grinned down at me. "You're gonna do a lot more than just see it, whiteboy." Jay turned on the bed, rolling onto his side, then onto his back, while holding my mouth on his cock. He was relaxing against the pillows and put his arms behind him, resting his head in his hands. I wasn't sure that I wanted another guy knowing that I sucked cock, much less actually suck some other man's dick, but as I admired the play of muscles through Jay's chest and the bulge of his biceps I knew I would do whatever he wanted. He was fully hard and I knew well from experience that he could shoot several more loads. Keeping my eyes aimed up along his body, I forced my mouth down, taking his cock to the root again and again. Jay grinned as he watched me working to suck the cum out of him. I watched as Jay's body began to respond to my sucking. Beads of sweat were forming as his excitement grew and I saw him begin to breathe more quickly. I knew that it wouldn't be long before I drank more of my black stud's cum. Jay looked down at me. "Slow down. I don't wanna cum. Not for a while yet. I just wanna stay on the edge, so take it slow." I obeyed, decreasing the speed of my lips along the length of his shaft and sucking him more slowly. I saw his tense body start to relax, the muscles and tendons standing out in his neck subsided. I kept this up, my jaws aching, for a good ten minutes. It was then that I heard the door to the apartment open and then shut. I could hear footsteps coming across the hardwood floor toward the bedroom. "Oh shit," I thought. I wasn't even in a position where Jay was on top of me, forcing me take his dick, making me be his cocksucker. He was laying back relaxed against the pillows, hands behind his head, and I was on my hands and knees between his legs willingly working his cock with my mouth like some slut. The footsteps stopped at the doorway. "Fucking A!" It was a deep male voice, sounding full of lust. The voice sounded a bit familiar, but I wasn't sure if I had heard it before or not. "Guy's got a good body. I'd've never thought he'd be a fag, but there's no denying his mouth full of your cock, bro. He any good?" For an answer, Jay grabbed my head and pushed it down. The orgasm he had been holding back now burst out and he pumped shot after shot of hot cum into my mouth. "He.....is....a.....fucking....great.....cocksucker!" Each word was timed with a spurt of cum. I am sure it was as obvious to the new guy watching us as it was to me that Jay was cumming. My mouth was pretty full of his salty tasting seed. I looked upwards to Jay's face as much as his grip on my head would allow. "Swallow it, pussyboy!" A wide grin spread across his face as I drank down his cum while his friend watched. I knew my face was red, not only from the exertions of the long blow job, but from swallowing Jay's cum in front of another guy. "He just fucking ate your jizz?" There was a note of disgust and amazement in the guy's voice. "That's fucking low, dude. Does he take it up the ass, too?" "Why do you think I just called him a pussyboy?" Jay said. "You want to try that end first?" "Hell yeah!" "Go for it then, bro." I heard the sound of a zipper and a few more footsteps, then felt the weight of the guy settle behind me on the bed. I tried to turn my head just a bit to catch the guy's reflection in the mirror, but Jay held my head tightly, mouth still on his cock, and his forearm blocked my view. All I could see was the material of a baseball cap, backwards on the guy's head. Hands grabbed my hips tightly and suddenly I felt the guy line up a huge cockhead with my hole. I guess he must have freed his dick while watching me suck Jay. "Oh god," I thought, "the guy's cock is dry." I started to struggle. Even if the guy wasn't huge, taking it dry would fucking kill me! I tried to pull my head up, but the two men held me in place. I couldn't break free of their hold. Jay's cock impaled my face as his buddy prepared to do the same to my ass. The force that the man behind me used made up for the lack of lubrication. I screamed a muffled scream around Jay's cock as I was fucked by this stud's cock. It felt like a giant battering ram was being driven up inside me. Inch after thick inch forced its way into my already abused ass. I yelled again, my mouth still effectively muzzled by Jay's cock which had grown substantially harder as he watched his buddy mount, then penetrate, me. I struggled harder, trying desperately to pull away from the invading cock, but the two men gripped me harder, holding me in place. My body trembled as, for the first time in my life, I had two cock inside me. "Ahh. Fucking tight hole, bud. Tight little hole for my big dick." I heard the guy sigh in pleasure. Then I felt the invader begin to pull back out of me, his cock seeming to pull all of my guts with it, but now at least it was lubed some from Jay's sperm which filled me. The guy apparently realized it. "Hey, I'm getting sloppy seconds here, aren't I?" "Of course, man! I fucked this faggot's pussy not twenty minutes ago. Good thing I did or you ramming in dry woulda probably killed him." Both guys laughed. My eyes were squeezed shut, trying to deal with the pain of this huge cock inside me. I moaned around Jay's cock and felt it twitch in response. "You got the faggot moaning now, bro. Go for broke. He's full at both ends with dick. He must be in pussyboy heaven. Fuck his goddam brains out!" The man behind me wasted no time, drilling his cock back into me. Jay grabbed me by the ears and began to force my mouth up and down his cock. I was being brutally fucked at both ends and as my body shook, I felt my cock, which had shrunk when the new man first took me, now slapping against my abs, hard as stone. Together, Jay and his friend worked my entire body back and forth, my mouth emptying as my ass filled with cock, then reversing so that my mouth filled as my ass emptied. I felt like a puppet in the hands of two sexual puppet masters, being jerked and pulled and moved to make them cum. I was also realized that I was loving it. Being taken forcefully by these guys, even against my will, had my cock as hard as it had ever been in my life. I didn't know who the guy was that was fucking me. I had probably never even seen him before in my life, but I was loving his cock and the way he used it. He was a masterful cocksman, driving himself in and out of me rough and hard, using my hole however he wanted, not caring if I liked it but just doing whatever made his cock feel the best. I felt one of his hands run up my spine then his fingers tangle in the hair on the back of my head. With the same brutal force he was using to fuck me, he hauled my head up, then impaled it on Jay's thick black spike. "Suck that big black cock, faggot!" he ordered. "Suck that cock and take my dick up your tight little hole, pussyboy! Take these cocks, you worthless excuse for a man. Look at you, on your hands and knees with full of black dick at both ends. This is what you were born for, you piece of shit!" He forced my head back down the length of Jay's cock, ramming his dick deeply into me as he did so. Jay's cock in my mouth was turning steely. This orgasm was going to flood my mouth quickly, not like the long, drawn out blow job that I had given him while Jay waited for his buddy to arrive. Still being rocked back and forth, I felt the hand holding my hair release it and both of the guy's hands began to explore my body. He pinched my nipples until they were hard, then ran his hands along my arms, feeling my biceps. He cupped my pecs, then ran his hands down along the ridges of my abs and used them to pull me up to meet his thrusting cock. The back of one of his hands hit the head of my cock and I couldn't help myself. The stimulation of his hands and the two cocks inside me, one belonging to an unknown man exploring my body like he owned it set me off. My body twitching violently and moaning around Jay's cock uncontrollably, I shot my load onto the sheets of the bed beneath me. Jay held my head tightly with both hands and let loose his latest explosion of cum. I gulped it down as quickly as he shot it. "Ahhhhhh, yeahhhhhhhh, suck it all down, whiteboy. Eat my cum, cocksucker! Eat it all." I guess watching his buddy cum and feeling my ass squeezing his cock as I shot my own load set off the man fucking me. I heard him let out a low moan and he drove his cock as far in to me as he could get it and held it there. "Oh shit. Oh shit! I'm gonna....AH! AH! AH! AH! AH!" The guy's hands gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging into me as he held me in place and filled me with his cum. Jay's cock, now only half hard, slid out of my mouth. Jay's hands still gripped the sides of my head, but I managed to look up at him. He was watching his buddy as the guy came inside me, an amused half-grin on his face. I struggled to catch my breath. It seemed like it was the first time in hours that I didn't have Jay's cock in my mouth. I watched Jay's chest rise and fall as the guy fucking me slowly pulled his softening cock out of me. "Damn! This boy's hole is as good as any pussy I've ever fucked!" "Yeah, once I showed him what a slut he was, he's learned how to please real men like us really quick. His mouth is damn good too!" Jay replied. Jay finally released my head from his tight grip and I turned it, looking into the mirror. The young man behind me was darker than Jay by several shades. He still wore the backwards ball cap, but had apparently pulled off his shirt. His chest was toned and his dark skin shone in the light with sweat. I realized who he was immediately. I had seen him around the neighborhood plenty of times, usually hanging out with friends on a street corner, moving with them down the sidewalk in a pack. I'd also seen him playing basketball a lot on the public court a few blocks away. I didn't know his name because Jay had been right, I usually avoided this guy and his group. I figured him to be about 19 or 20, but wasn't sure. When I saw him on the street, his face usually was hardened, projecting an aura of superiority and attitude. I knew that he led his particular gang and his reputation was one of being a gang leader and a hard ass. I knew he had been in some trouble with the law in the past, but had never heard about anything really serious. Mainly alcohol and drug offenses. Now he was behind me staring down at me and had just fucked me up the ass. Jay moved upward and climbed off the bed. He stood to my left, looking down at me, his cock still at half mast. "I'm gonna grab a brew," he announced and looked at the us. "Do whatever you want," he told the guy behind me and walked out of the bedroom. I felt the guy's hands on me again and he pushed me over and onto my back on the cum stained sheets. My legs were now both to the right of him and I watched as he grabbed my ankle and lifted my left leg, spreading them again. He knelt there between my legs for a moment staring down at me. I looked up at him, a vision of black masculinity - muscles, tendons and sweat. I saw that his cock was a good seven or more inches and was rapidly rising back to fully erect. I dragged my eyes away from his crotch and up to his face. "I know you, whiteboy. I've see ya around. You own this building, right?" I just nodded. I wasn't sure I could speak. "Yeah, I thought so. Maybe I should get me a place here and fuck your brains out whenever I want. That the arrangement you got with my bro?" I nodded again. His face broke out into a grin. He wasn't as handsome as Jay, but his body was better defined and with a grin on his face, he was attractive, not his usual tough guy self. I felt myself relaxing a bit. After all, the guy had already fucked me up the ass. What worse could he do? "So," he asked, "you know who I am?" "Um. Well, I've seen you around before too, but I don't know your name. Normally, I see you on the streets hanging out with a bunch of your buddies." "Yeah? Well you don't need to know my name, just that I am the black man who's gonna fuck your brains out again. You liked it before, didn't ya?" I nodded again. "I didn't hear you boy. When I ask you a question you answer me! Got it, faggot?" "Yes....Sir." I added the last after a slight hesitation and saw him grin in triumph. "I liked the way you fucked me, sir." "I could tell you did, bitch. You shot your wad with me poking you and with Jay's dick in your mouth." A smirk appeared on his face. "How fucking low is that? What kind of a guy gets his nut wile being banged by big black cock?" He looked down my body, then back up to my face. "Spread your legs for me. Pull them up and show me your hole. I wanna watch you do it, whiteboy. I wanna see a white guy spread his legs for me." I reached down and grabbed my legs behind my knees and pulled them until my thighs were against my chest. The guy laughed. "What a fucking slut! You spread your legs for any real man, or just black studs?" "I've only been fucked by Jay," I replied. "And now by you," I added, realizing it was now the truth too. "So you like black cock but haven't had any white meat yet. From the way you acted while you were stuffed with my cock and Jay's, my guess is that you'll be as much a slut for white cock as black. But for now, you gotta satisfy mine and it takes a lot for my dick to get soft. I've always wanted a toy like you to play with. I had a dude blow me once and liked the way it felt to cumming in his mouth. Your fucking hole was even sweeter. Now, we're really gonna have some fun." The guy reached down and grabbed my balls in his right hand. I felt him increase the pressure on them as he stared me in the eye. *************** Author's Note: Thanks to those who sent e-mails encouraging me to continue. If not for them, I wouldn't have. There may yet be more to this story, if there is interest out there.

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Date: Sun, 16 Sep 2001 12:44:49 EDT From: Percxyz@aol.com Subject: Black Man's White Pussyboy 4 Black Man's White Pussyboy Chapter 4 by Percxyz@aol.com It was three days later when my phone rang. When I answered it, Jay's voice sent a thrill of excitement through my body. "Yo, whiteboy. I got me a new piece of furniture. I need some help getting into my place. Figured, you know, since you're the landlord and all, you could help me move it in." "Um, well, sure Jay. When do you need me?" "In about thirty minutes whiteboy. Get your ass over here." I was working on my books, so I set them aside and grabbed my car keys. It was across town to Jay's place, so I got under way. In about fifteen minutes, I had pulled up in front of his apartment. There was a pickup truck parked in front with a long, low chest of drawers sitting next to a large mirror in the back. I walked up to Jay's place and knocked on the door. He answered, shirtless. I felt my body reacting on its own, my cock starting to stiffen in my jeans. "Hey, whiteboy. Let's get downstairs and haul that mother up here. It should be easy between the two of us." Jay put a hand on the center of my chest and pushed past me. It felt like an electric shock through my t-shirt where he touched me and I turned, following him down the hall and the steps. I admired the broad shoulders which tapered down to his tight waist and the muscles which flexed in his back as he walked. His ebony skin shone in the sunlight as we stepped outside. He untied the straps holding the chest in place and grabbed one end. He pulled it towards him, backing up as he did so. I admired his bunched biceps and the cords which stood out in his neck as he took up the weight of the piece. When the other end of the long chest slid to the end of the tailgate, I grabbed it and together we hauled it up the steps and into Jay's bedroom. We set it down with the drawers against the bed and returned to the truck for the mirror which attached to the back of it. Back in the bedroom, I helped Jay secure the long mirror to the chest of drawers. The whole piece was about six feet long and three feet high. The mirror added another three feet or so. When it was assembled, I moved to one end and lifted it, ready to help him push it away from the bed and up against the wall. Jay stopped me. "Leave it where it is, whiteboy. For now at least." I was confused, but used to obeying Jay's commands so I let the end of the dresser back down to the floor. "You look pretty good with your muscles all pumped up like that, whiteboy." I noticed then that the outline of his cock was clearly visible in the sweats he was wearing. Jay saw where my gaze had settled and let his right hand drop to his crotch, massaging his hard cock through the cotton material. "It's obvious what you need, boy. Why don't you just strip while I go close the front door." He turned and walked out of the bedroom. I seemed to obey without even considering what he had told me to do or even really thinking about it. My shirt went first, then I kicked off my shoes and socks. My jeans and boxers hit the floor and I stepped out of them. I heard the door click shut from the other room and waited, naked, for him to return. Jay stepped into the bedroom and grinned when he saw me naked and hard. "You are learning, whiteboy. You're doing better at following orders and I like that." As he talked, he began to strip off his sweatpants. He was wearing jockeys underneath and the white material bulged from the pressure of his hard cock trying to get free. My eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in his toned, muscular form and his sexy grin. I realized that I was incredibly turned on by the sight of his nearly naked, very dark body. Turned on almost as much as the bodies of the girls I had fucked over the years. Of course, there was no comparison. Jay's body was hard an muscular where the girls were soft and yielding. Jay turned to close the bedroom door and I saw him in profile. The curve his back from his broad shoulders, down to the small of his back before the outward curve of his muscled butt had my cock throbbing. The bulge of his biceps and the slabs of muscle on his chest and abs were also very sexy. That, combined with his dark chocolate skin made him a sight of potent masculine virility. Then Jay stripped off his shorts and my eyes went straight to his long black cock which snapped up against the muscles in his tight abdomen. I was seeing it from the side and it looked big - too big to ever take in my mouth or ass, but I knew better from experience. I felt my mouth water as I stared at it, remembering all the things that Jay had done to me with that throbbing piece of his body. As he turned to me, I could see a shiny spot on the head where some lube was already forming. I knew what that tasted like, but wanted to taste it again. I had little doubt that soon I would be. Jay stepped up to me, surprising me. Normally, he had me get on my knees and crawl to him. He further surprised me by grabbing me by the hair on the back of my head. With his strong grip he pulled my head to the back and to the right so that my face was at an angle. His mouth covered mine and I felt his tongue trace along my lips. I meekly let them open and his tongue slid inside my mouth in the way I had kissed so many girls in the past. I let his tongue probe in my mouth, exploring it the way his cock had done previously, though not nearly so deeply. Jay's other hand moved along my abs, running lightly over them. His fingers tickled the hairs that ran in a line down from my navel to my pubes. Jay's hand moved up higher until his fingers found my right nipple. He squeezed it gently at first and I moaned into his mouth. The black stud's fingers traveled to my left nipple and squeezed it, eliciting another moan. As Jay's hand worked over my chest, his hard cock slapped against mine in some kind of erotic sword play. The contact of our bodies and my submission to his kissing was almost enough to make me cum. Jay must have realized this because his gentle fingers suddenly clamped down hard on my nipple, pinching it painfully. I groaned in pain, but it was mixed with pleasure. Jay broke the kiss and watched my face intently as he twisted my nipple roughly. It was clear that he was enjoying the expressions of pain and pleasure that he was creating on my face. He grinned at me and then pushed my head down. I licked at his neck and then at the ridge of his collars bone before my mouth was on his chest. As Jay continued to twist and pinch my left nipple, my lips found his dark nipple on the top of his thick slab of muscle and I began to lick and suck on it. I felt it grow hard under my lips. Jay dragged my mouth across his chest, burying my face in the valley between his pecs for a minute. My tongue lapped up the beads of sweat that had formed from the exertion of moving the furniture and the sexual excitement and teased a few hairs that grew there. Jay dragged my face further until I was sucking on his right nipple. Soon it was hard too. Being bent over by this dominant black stud had separated our cocks but we were both still rock hard. Slowly, almost gently, Jay pushed on the back of my head. I let him put me on my knees, mouth now level with his thick black cock. I looked up at him. He was staring down, watching me. I opened my lips, our eyes still locked together, and let him slide his manhood into my mouth. Jay's eyes fluttered closed and he sighed in pleasure. I watched as his chest filled and expanded as he took a deep breath, admiring the muscles which stood out in relief as he filled his lungs. Without any urging or force from Jay, I pushed my head forward, letting his cock stretch open my throat and plunge deep into me. Somewhere in my mind I noted that I was now taking this black buck's cock more than willingly, but when he moaned with pleasure, I forgot about everything except making him feel good. I moved my head forward and back, taking the length of his cock into my throat, then pulling back until I could use my tongue on his cockhead. His salty lube covered my tongue as I lapped it up. Briefly again I thought of myself on my knees letting this young black man fuck my face as my own hard cock throbbed between my legs. Jay seemed to grow bored with my mouth action and grabbed my head with both hands. Holding me tightly in place, he jackhammered his cock into my mouth. His balls only bounced against my chin for a few thrusts. I grabbed my cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts. Soon, his balls drew up and soon Jay's body twitched and shuddered as he pumped his cum down my throat with a long, low moan. As he came, I shot my own load onto the floor between his spread legs, moaning around his cock as I did it. Jay pulled out of my mouth and stepped back. His cock glistened with my spit. He looked down at me with a smirk on his face. His eyes dropped to the puddle of my cum on the floor then raised back up to my eyes. "Guess you got off on being my cocksucker again, huh, whiteboy." I felt myself blush in embarrassment and humiliation. Even though I had sucked Jay before and been fucked by him, in the moments after shooting my own load, the reality of what I was doing and what Jay was doing to me sank into my mind. I had just let this muscled black stud shoot his sperm down my throat! My cock wilted some from my own orgasm and the embarrassment. Jay gave me no chance to think or react. He grabbed my by the hair and pulled me up onto the bed. He arranged me on my hands and knees, looking at the mirror we had just put on the dresser. It was only a few feet from the edge of the bed where my head was as the dresser was still pushed up against the bed. "I want you to be able to watch yourself when I mount you like a dog and fuck your brains out, whiteboy. I want you to see yourself in the mirror on your hands and knees and see me behind you, on top of you, inside you - using your hole, cumming up your tight little ass. I want you to watch me fuck you like a dog whether you want me to or not!" Jay climbed onto the bed behind me. In the mirror, he seemed enormous, looming over me from behind. His black skin glistened with sweat, making his chest shine. Jay wasted no time. I felt the thick, blunt head of his cock against my hole. I watched as Jay ran his hands possessively over my body, feeling along my sides then sliding under to pinch my nipples again. I realized that my cock was rock hard again. "Look at me, whiteboy!" I had dropped my head to stare at the sheet beneath me on the bed, but raised my eyes until they met his in the mirror. As our gaze met, Jay slid his cock into me in a brutal thrust, knocking my breath out of me with the sudden penetration. I could feel my eyes widen along with my hole as Jay took me again as his pussyboy. I glanced into the mirror and could see my wide eyes staring back at me. My face was a mix of pain and pleasure and something else. I couldn't identify it until I looked at Jay's face again. On it was the look of a conqueror, a dominant male taking what he wanted. A look of superiority as he fucked another male up the ass to satisfy his sexual desires. Jay's dark face shone with sweat, determination and dominance. My face reflected a defeated submission and acceptance of my role as the white pussyboy to be used for the satisfaction of his sexual desires. I was a male. I had fucked women. But I had been put on my hands and knees and was being roughly fucked up the ass by this dominant young black stud. The sight I saw in the mirror was almost obscene. I was mounted by this black stud, full of his cock, but I could see my own cock, rock hard, bouncing beneath me as Jay began to hump me. I groaned in pleasure as his thick shaft brutally rammed against my prostate and moved deeper into me. Jay hauled his cock back out of me, making me moan with the sensation of his cock leaving me empty and the friction as my hole tried to keep him inside. I let out a yelp when he immediately rammed back in until I could feel his pubes scratching my ass. Jay fucked me like that for a few minutes, running his cock in and out of me with brutal force and I heard myself whimper a few times when stuffed full of his throbbing, black manhood.. Then he slid his hands forward and reached back under my chest, pulling me upright onto my knees, his cock still buried up inside me. I watched his forearms cross over my chest and his fingers pinch my nipples again. I saw in the mirror as my whole body jerked upward and forward with each thrust of his cock into me. "That's it whiteboy. Take my big black dick up your tight little hole. Look at yourself! Look at you in the mirror, mounted by another man, taking cock up the ass and your own cock leaking lube like you were the one doing the fucking! You are nothing but a total cock whore, whiteboy. You got off on sucking the cum outta my balls and you get off on my fucking your tight little white boypussy. You fucking love it! You suck loads of my cum down your throat and then let me ram my cock where no self respecting real man would ever allow." He emphasized this with a particularly rough thrust forward. Jay pushed me forward until I was back on my hands and knees. I watched in the mirror as he lowered himself onto my back, his chest on my back and his cheek next to mine. I could feel his beard stubble rub against my face. "Yeah, whiteboy," he whispered into my ear. I watched his mouth move in the mirror as he spoke. "Give it up to me. Give me your hole. Oh, fuck yeah, take my fat black cock, pussyboy. Take it up your hot little hole. Squeeze it, pussyboy! Clamp down on my cock!" I obeyed, milking his cock with the muscles of my abused ass as he humped me. In the mirror, I watched him watching me and could also see, past our heads, where his ass rose and fell with each thrust into me. Our bodies rocked forward each time he hammered his cock deep up inside me. "Look at yourself, pussyboy. Look at you taking big black dick up the ass. You got a black man laying on your back and fucking your brains out. Fucking hot sight, isn't it? Little white pussyboy taking the big cock of a real man. A real black man who knows what to do with a man's cock. Yeah, bitch. Take it. Take it hard!" His thrusting was brutal and my arms were straining to hold us both up under the onslaught and our combined weight as he let himself settle fully onto my back. I watched the muscles in my own arms bunching and flexing as I worked to support us as he humped me. I could see the veins in my forearms standing out under the skin as I bore our weight and worked to steady us. It felt like his cock, lubed only with my spit was pulling my guts out each time he withdrew and I watched pain and pleasure alternate on my face again and again. Of course, the look of conquest remained on Jay's face and the look of submission remained on my own through it all. Jay was clearly enjoying watching me as I watched myself get fucked. The mixed emotions on my face, the sight of my body moving in time with his, seemed to be heightening his pleasure. Jay's thrusts had pushed me forward, until my hands were now on the dresser rather than the bed. The bed was squeaking in time with Jay's fucking and now the mirror began to shake as well. I watched as Jay threw his head back and let out a roar of pure bliss. He rammed deep inside me and held his cock there. All of the muscles in his body flexed as his cum spurted from his cock to fill me. Jay's head fell forward and I felt his teeth clamp onto the back of my neck as he growled out his orgasm. Even though I knew it would leave a mark, I didn't protest, simply accepting this further evidence of this black man's dominance over me. I watched as Jay's body relaxed slowly on mine. I could feel his sweat dripping onto me as his breathing slowly returned to normal. Jay's cock was still up inside me but only softened part way. Still I watched as he raised his head and looked at me in the mirror. He flashed me a grin of superiority and flexed some muscles, making his cock twitch inside me. He smirked as I moaned from the stimulation. Finally, he slowly pulled out of me. Jay grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me to the side, flipping me onto my back on the bed. I watched as he climbed up my body, straddling my chest with his knees. He aimed his cock between my lips and I obediently took his thick black head and shaft into me again. As I sucked him clean, he leaned over to the side and picked up the phone. I kept sucking as he dialed. "Yo, man, it's Jay. Come on over. Yeah. In the bedroom. Just come on in. Front door's not locked. You bet he is. He'd say hi, but he's got his mouth full." Jay laughed. I stared up at him in shock, but unable to protest his inviting someone over while my mouth was full of his cock. I wondered if it was that guy, Bobby, who had been on the phone the other day. The thought of another young black stud making me service his cock was exciting. But then I realized it could just as easily be anyone, even Todd. Jay just kept his cock in my mouth as he hung up the phone. He looked down at me. "I decided I should be nice and share my toys," he said. ************************ Author's Note: Thanks to all who have written. There was enough interest for me to continue this story. Please let me know if you would like to read more about Jay's adventures.

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Date: Sat, 30 Mar 2002 16:16:15 +0000 From: Bily Boy Subject: Little Brother's Sex Slave, part 14 So they decided the have Mike stay. Matt had little trouble in clearing it with everyone. I guess they thought it was cool to have the cousins hang for a weekend. Little did they know what we'd be doing. Mike still couldn't get over what I was doing. He kept looking at me real funny. Hell, I guess when you figure your cousins are str8 and then one turns out to be a cock hound, I guess it takes a little time for it to sink in. Mike and I went down to our room, and Matt had a date with Karen. We were just hanging, but Mike couldn't resist asking me questions about what had happened between Matt and I to make things turn out the way they were. "I don't get it, what's he got over you?" asked Mike. "Well, he filmed me and a bud kinda fucking around, and threatened me with it. I figured it would ruin me if I didn't do what he wanted, so I caved. As it was he told Dad about my bud, and then he wigged. That's why I have to work at McDonalds. They also took my car away too. I'm telling ya Mike, Matt can be a real prick when he wants to. I think he loves torturing me too." I said. "Why did he shave you?" asked Mike. "I think to show his power over me. He laughed like crazy. Man I felt so low, but he likes me like this. Actually, I kinda like it too, but it's hard at school." I replied. "Fuck, I would think so." Mike said. "How does Brian fit into this?" asked Mike. "I think Matt thinks Brian is more a bro than I am. They hang all the time, even fuck the same chick sometimes." I said. "You're kidding.....How do you know that?" he asked I got embarrassed. "Cuz, I've seen em......" I replied. "No shit??" he asked. "Yeah, I've seen Matt fuck Karen here, and also at Brian's house." "Did they know you were watching?" he asked. "Oh yeah....He made me stay in the closet here, and of course at Brian's house, it was like an orgy. He made me suck out her pussy of their cum." I said. "Holy shit!!" was all he could say. He kept looking at me. "Man, you really like cum and cock??" he asked. "Yes.." was all I could say. "Did ya like sucking me off?" he asked quietly. "Yea Mike, you've become quite a studly dude. Yea, I liked it." I answered honestly. I glance up at him, and I could see him starting to get boned in his jeans. "Ya wanna do it again?" he asked. "Yea." I replied. He just stood there and let me kneel in front of him. I slowly unzipped his jeans and his cock poked out of his boxers. He really was a hot stud, I had to admit. It didn't take long for his cock to grow to full length. I looked up at him. He was just looking down at me with a kind of superior look on his face. I looked at his cock and saw the precum forming on its end. I licked it off. He shuttered at my tongue hit his cock. I licked around the head and then sucked it into my mouth. He moaned as I sucked more of him. After a few minutes, I had the whole thing in my mouth and throat. He started to pump me with urgency. He gently laid his hand on my head to hold me. I could feel his cock growing, as he got ready to cum. Finally, he let out a low moan and unloaded in my mouth. I sucked harder to increase his pleasure. He gasped as he shot his 5 squirts into my mouth. Finally, he pulled out with a sigh. I could taste his sweet cum. So fresh and creamy. God it was great. I even smacked my lips at the taste. "Well Billy, I gotta admit, you are one excellent cocksucker man." He said. It was getting late and so I volunteered to let Mike sleep in my bed. I would sleep on the floor with a sleeping bag. So we got settled and turned off the lights. After we were asleep for a while, I heard Matt come in. I could detect that he was stripping and then he went over to the bed and climbed on, where I would be. He started to rub his cock on Mike's mouth!! He thought it was me. Mike was asleep, so he didn't really get what was going on. Pretty soon, I could tell that Matt had his dick in Mike's mouth. He started to grab his head and pump him, but then he woke up. "What the fuck!!" he yelled at Matt. "Oh fuck man, I thought you were Billy." Said Matt. "Get the fuck off of me asshole." Yelled Mike. "Chill dude, I didn't do much....This is for Billy to do." Said Matt. "He's on the floor.." said Mike. Matt came over, and grabbed me by the hair. He pulled me up to his bed. "get between my legs you cunt." He barked at me. I just complied. "Suck me off." He ordered. I just knelt there between his legs and started to suck him. I knew that Mike could see our shadows against the sliding glass doors. I knew he was watching me suck Matt off. Matt made quite a bit of noise as I sucked him, and finally shot into my mouth. I then got off the bed and went back to my sleeping bag. I knew that Mike had watched the whole thing. Next morning, we all slept a little late. Finally we got going. Nothing was said about the incident the night before, but I sensed that Mike was a little freaked about what had happened. Matt announced that we were having a party at Brian's. I could only imagine who the entertainment was. We spent most of the afternoon playing hoops and just hanging out. Matt told our parents that we would be having pizza at Brian's. They were OK with everything. He also said that we would probably stay overnight as well. At about 4, we left to head to Brian's. When we got there, Brian said that his folks were going to be out for the weekend, and that we had the run of the place. We all came in, and went into the den. Brian popped at video into the VCR and we all settled down to watch it. Brian and Matt went into the kitchen to get some beers and snacks. They came back and gave me and Mike beers. Oh yeah, the video was str8 porn. We all sat down and started to watch it. After a little bit, Matt got up and got 4 more beers. He passed em around. (Little did I or Mike know, but he put viagra in ours). Of course, we were all getting pretty horned up, and then Matt told me to strip in front of everyone. I was embarrassed, but what could I do. I stood up and started to strip. Pretty soon, I was naked, and naturally boned. They were all kinda laughing at me. Brian said: "Go get your dildo." My face got red, but I left the room to get it. I could hear the guys laughing as I walked down the hall in shame. A few minutes latter, I returned with it. "Get on your back, and do it fag boy." Ordered Matt. "Aw, come on Matt, don't make me do this." I protested. He got up and came over to me and slapped my face. "Get on your hands and knees and stick that ass in the air." He ordered roughly. I did and stuck my ass up as far as I could. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK He started to slap my ass. "Whoa, fuck man." Said Mike. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK "Wanna try it?" asked Matt of Mike. "Naw, not yet." He responded. Matt whacked me 5 more times, and then took the dildo and rammed it up my ass. "Get on your back, lay on the floor and fuck your pussy, fag boy." He ordered. I did as he wanted. They continued to watch the video and laugh. I could see that they were all getting pretty hard, especially Mike. "Hey, watch this." Said Brian. Suddenly he turned on the vibrating dildo. I wasn't expecting it and I jumped and went 'OOOOOWWWW' they all laughed like crazy. Brian kept doing that over and over again. "Man, this is fucking wild." said Mike. "The dude loves this stuff." Said Brian. Matt just laughed. "What about the beating?" asked Mike. "The little fag deserves it when he doesn't obey quick enough. Gotta keep him in line..." Matt said as he looked down at me in disgust. "Want another beer man?" asked Matt. "Yeah, sure...." Said Mike. Brian reached over and popped in one of "my" gay porn tapes. "Watch this stuff man, its fucking HOT!" he told Mike. "Watch the TV fag boy." Ordered Brian. This tape was all about beatings and making dudes suck cock, and bondage. Of course, I was boned up anyway. They made me wear a cock ring, so I couldn't cum, so I just stayed boned, but I did drip lots of precum. Matt came back and had beers for everyone. "Getting a little boned there, Mike?" he asked as he looked at Mikes tented jeans. "Yeah, I guess so..." he replied. "Have fag boy suck you off man...he needs cock, look at him." Said Matt laughing at me fucking myself with the dildo. "Yeah man, get down on the dude!" Brian chimed in. Mike stood up and started to strip. Brian and Matt looked at each other and smiled. Pretty soon, Mike was bare assed, and of course he was harder than stone. I had to kneel in front of him and suck him as he watched the tape. Fuck his cock was sooo hard, I couldn't believe it. About 5 minutes, he grabbed my head and rammed his teen dick way in and then shouted as he unloaded gobs of hot cum into my mouth. "OOOHHH FUCK!!!" he yelled as he was shooting. Like the good little boy I am, I sucked it all down. Matt and Brian just looked at me and smiled. Just then the doorbell rang, and Brian got up to answer it. I was tired from sucking off Mike, and was just kneeling on the floor, watching the video. Then Brian and Joe marched Alan in. He looked like he had been slapped around a bit, and when he saw me, he looked soo sad. "Hey dudes, look who's here." Shouted Brian. "Fuck yea, two fags, cool." Said Matt. "You're kidding, right??" said Mike. "Fuck no, this is Billy's little fag bud." Said Matt. "Hey, guys, come on, don't do anything stupid." begged Alan. I felt so embarrassed for my friend. I hadn't seen him in a while; I didn't want Matt to get into him as he got into me. Matt smiled and said: "Don't worry fag boy, we're just gonna party a little that's all. You are up for that right?" Alan hung his head. "Hey fag, you haven't seen your fuck bud for a while, go give him a big kiss." Ordered Brian. Alan just stood there. Brian grabbed me and pulled me up. I stood in front of my buddy, naked, boned, and with a dildo in my ass. I felt ashamed and started to turn red. Matt, Brian, and Joe were eating it up. Mike just was so dumbfounded, I don't he knew what to do. "Kiss him," ordered Brian. Alan moved in closer and kissed me. "Fucking sweet..." said Matt with a sneer. Matt moved in from one side and Brian from the other. They grabbed Alan, and told Joe and Mike to strip him. He tried to resist a little, but they had him, and he couldn't do anything. They all laughed, all I could do is stand there with a hard on. So embarrassing. Finally Alan was naked. "Feel him up." Matt ordered me. I grabbed Alan's cock and started to play with it. Pretty soon it was hard. Brian when to the kitchen and got a beer for Alan. They forced him to drink it. Naturally they had spiked it with viagra. "Hey man, look at this dudes bush." Said Brian. "Yeah, he's a fag, he should be having that much hair." Said Matt. Mike just chuckled. "Hey Mike, wanna shave the fag?" asked Matt. "Yeah, that would be very kewl." He said all excited. "Please guys, don't do that to me.." Alan started to beg They just grabbed him and pulled him into the bathroom Brian grabbed his camcorder. Matt produced some handcuffs and cuffed Alan. All the guys were extremely boned, especially Mike, who was going crazy with lust. He grabbed the electric trimmer and as Brian filmed it all, trimmed off Alan's hair. He was trying to get free, but was held firmly by the boys. They all laughed and were having a good time. After the trimmer, Matt gave Mike the shaving cream and razor. "Please, Matt, Mike, please don't" he begged. Of course, by now, Alan was totally boned. "What are you going to do if we don't shave you?" asked Mike. "Aw, come on man, please don't do this..." Alan was almost crying and begging. Mike looked down and with a sneer; he swiped the razor thru his bush. He cracked up, laughing. Alan was whimpering, and beggin them not to do it. Mike just kept it up and shaved his entire crotch. I felt so bad for Alan. Then they flipped him over and shaved his ass. When they were done, they started to slap his ass. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK They took turns slapping him. Of course Brian got all of it on film. When they were done, we were pulled back into the den. "There...now you two look better." Said Matt. "After all, fags don't deserve to have crotch hair." said Brian. "And look, they obviously like it. They both got big bones." Said Mike. "They got bones, because they're near cock dude." Said Matt. Mike moved over to Alan and pushed him to his knees. "Come on dude, suck me off." He hissed at Alan. Alan opened his mouth and sucked Mike into his mouth. Pretty soon, Mike was rocking back and forth and within a few minutes, unloaded a nice load of hot teen jizz. Mike pushed him off of his cock and onto the floor. "Hey fags, do a 69 for us." Said Brian. They forced us onto a 69 and Alan and I sucked each other's cock. When we were nice and hard, and dripping, they pulled us apart. "You like to fuck my bro, don't ya?" asked Matt. Alan hung his head and turned red. Matt laughed. "He likes me fucking him better, don't ya fag?" he looked at me. "Yes, Matt, I love your cock." I said softly. "Hey Mike, wanna fuck my bro?" he asked Mike. "Youre kidding, right?" asked Mike. "Fuck no man, the cunt likes it, right?" he said as he looked at me. I didn't answer. Matt got up and came over to me and slapped me in the face. "Beg Mike to fuck you pussy boy." He ordered. I got up and knelt in front of Mike. "Please fuck me Mike." I begged "I need cock in my hole." I said. "Get on the bed." I was told. I got on the bed "Doggie style dude." I was told. So that's how I did it. "Go on man, fuck the cunt." I heard Matt tell Mike. "No lube?" asked Mike "Fuck no, the cunt is probably dripping from anticipation" laughed Matt. Mike laughed and came over and put his cock at my hole. He slapped my ass a few times, and then pushed his cock into my hole. "Augh" I said. Mike continued to push and then he was stroking me. I was moaning from the fuck. Matt and Brian were just smiling. Joe came around in front of me and stuck his cock in my mouth. "Yeah, might as well use the other hole." He laughed. Matt and Brian cracked up, and then looked at Alan. "Your turn fag." Matt said. He made Alan get on the bed next to me, and then he fucked his hole too. Brian had Alan suck his cock as Matt fucked him. They kept it going to almost 15 minutes, before everyone shot their loads. Everyone except me and Alan, of course. When they were done, they all went into the other room, Joe left for work, and the guys started to watch TV. They made us kneel in front of them. We wonder what else was going to happen......

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-8

Date: Mon, 01 Jan 2001 23:51:46 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 8 Chapter 8: No Means No. I ate dinner alone that night in my room, feeling like I needed some time to process. Brad was a really great guy -- pretty much everything I would want in a boyfriend except for one glaring problem: he was straight. And he truly was straight. Of that I had no doubt. I'd met plenty of closet cases over the years who posed as straight because they couldn't handle what they feared they really wanted. They posed, they postured, they bragged about the pussy they snagged, they begged you to fuck them. That wasn't Brad at all. Brad had set up a schema in which men and women loved each other and made love to each other, but, when that wasn't available, buddies helped each other out. He was right, of course. It *was* enlightened. His reported response when guys came on to him was most telling: "no thanks." Most guys don't answer, "no thanks." Most guys answer, "I'm straight." Brad usually didn't need to point out he was straight because he was perfectly comfortable with the fact that he was. So my job included getting the boys off when they wanted me to. That stark fact kept returning to my consciousness. After the day's work out, I had approached Johnston privately. "When you said my job was to do `anything it took' to keep the boys happy, what did you mean by that," I had asked him? "Just what I said," he replied matter-of-factly. "I don't want any distractions here. They have to concentrate on their routines. I don't want them to have anything else on their minds." I stood there, staring at him blankly, trying to find a way to formulate the next question. Johnston read my face, and smiled. "One of them asked you to get them off, didn't they?" I nodded. "Brad?" I nodded again. "Figures. Wish he'd use some of that forwardness in his routines. Gotta figure out a way to make him more aggressive on the floor. He takes everything too easily -- emotionally, I mean. He needs more of an edge." Johnston had brought the conversation back to the only topic which concerned him: the team's performance in the gym. "So that's part of my job?" "Of course," he replied absentmindedly. "You think if I purposefully piss him off during a practice it will have a positive effect on his routines?" I talked about some motivational methods he could use, but excused myself from the conversation as soon as it was appropriate to do so. Despite my lingering discomfort, I had to admit that getting Brad off was kind of fun. He was certainly beautiful. In fact, he was one of the most beautiful guys I had ever had the opportunity to lay hands on. And he was both responsive and appreciative -- two qualities I liked in a guy when it came to matters sexual. Upon closer inspection, I found that there was a deeper appeal involved. As a gay man, the whole straight-male-bonding thing had always been somewhat out of reach. But Brad included me in his world as completely and unquestioningly as he did the rest of his buddies. The fact that I was gay was a non-issue for him. A plus, in fact, as it made negotiating getting his sexual needs met less problematic. He laughed and joked and included me in his circle of friends. Then I got him off. Then he laughed and joked and included me in his circle of friends. It was as easy as that. As for the others, I had to figure out how I would handle them, as Brad had already told me, animatedly in fact, that he couldn't wait to tell them about our little encounter. I didn't feel like there was any danger of them reacting badly in a physical way -- something I had to seriously consider, since each and every one of them was far stronger than I was, and able, with little effort, to beat me to a pulp if they so chose. Brad seemed to know the rules here at the camp in a way that I didn't, and indicated that the other athletes did as well. He inferred that the others would be just as delighted with my...talents...as he was. I decided to present an air of casual indifference. Yeah, sure. You want a towel? Here. You need a hand job? There you go. All in a day's work. That seemed to be Brad's expectation of the situation, so I had to assume that the others would feel the same. Johnston hadn't said that Brad was unusual in his attitudes -- just forward. That decided, I took out a journal, began thumbing through the abstracts, and returned to my dinner. Half an hour later, I was relaxing on the couch, still reading, when there was a knock on the door. I threw the book aside, and went to answer it. It was Eric. "Hey," I said, opening the door, and walking back to the couch, indicating he was free to come in. "Hey," he said, entering the room and shutting the door behind him. "What's up," I asked, sitting back down on the couch? "Well, you weren't at dinner," he said. "I needed to get some reading done," I explained, gesturing to the journal. "Thought I'd eat in tonight." "Oh," said Eric. A few beats passed. Too many. Eric looked uncomfortable, but just stood there. I understood. Dinner. Brad must have been effusive in his praise. "Is there something I can help you with," I asked? Clearly, Eric was not as secure with his needs as Brad was, and I was rather enjoying his discomfort. It would have been cute if it were possible for a man as powerfully built as he was to look cute. "Um. I thought if you weren't busy..." His voice trailed off, and again, he waited dumbly, just standing there in front of me. He wanted me to say it for him. I wasn't about to. "I'm not busy. Just reading. I was going to come into the commons soon anyway." "Oh, good," he said. "Then it's okay." "What's okay?" "Okay. So you'll give me a some head." I smiled. He had asked me without asking me. Score one for his ability to keep his straight self-image sacrosanct. Brad's the outlier, I thought, somewhat pleased with myself. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. "Sure," I said, with a studied casualness. "Where do you want it?" Eric merely unzipped his jeans and walked forward, standing directly before me, and waited. Eric was a stud in a totally different way than Brad was. Where Brad was rounded and light and smooth, Eric was dark and angular and hard. His thick dark hair, brooding black eyes under dense, wide eyebrows, nose with a slight aquiline hook to it, smallish mouth and strong, though somewhat pointed chin came together in the way that made so many Mediterranean men unspeakably hot. The olive glow of his skin was contrasted by the whiteness of his wife-beater, which stretched tautly over his broad chest and clung to the pronounced curves of his midsection. The shadow of the small patch of dark, curly hair that was centered between his pecs showed clearly through the material. He dug out his dick, which, though unengorged, was relatively long. Circumcised and with a generous head, it grew from a dense, dark pubic bush. I surveyed it, along with the athlete behind it. Evidently, I wasn't moving fast enough for him, as he took his dick by the root in one hand and pointed it at my mouth. Putting the other hand somewhat roughly behind my head, he pulled me forward. I opened my mouth, half to tell him to slow down, half to insist that he be more polite about it. He took this as an invitation to shove his dick fully in my mouth. It lay on my tongue, heavy and thick, despite its flaccidness. The taste was slightly of musk and salt and soap. What the hell, I found myself thinking again. They couldn't all be as nice or comfortable about it as Brad was. And while this one was gorgeous, he had all the sexual subtly of a horny mongoose. Eye candy, true, but not particularly appealing. Resigned, though, to completing a job well done, even if it *was* only a blow job, I tightened the ring of my lips around the base of his dick, sucked inward, and began sweeping my tongue back and forth under it. The lose skin caught and vibrated as my taste buds ran under it. There was an immediate reaction: an elongation, and a swelling. As my lips were already forward on his dick, it lengthened into me, sliding back to push against my soft palate. Eric let go of the base of his dick, and brought his hand around to join the other behind my head, pushing the last inch into my mouth. My nose buried in his scratchy pubes, his balls rested on my chin. His dick continued to grow, pushing toward my uvula, while it stiffened on my tongue. Shortly, he began rotating his hips in and out, fucking my mouth with his dick. He set up a quick pace. His biceps flexed, holding my head completely immobile while he jabbed at the back of my throat. His knees bent, and he raised up onto the balls of his feet without gaining any height in an effort to be able to get a better angle in his attack. I could taste the salty stickiness of his precum as he periodically withdrew his dick to the front of my mouth before shoving it back in again. He wasn't gentle, nor was he talented. This guy just wanted to get off, and to get off quickly. And that's what he did. With little warning, he pushed my face off his dick, grabbed it, and began milking it while he came, dripping his jizz onto the rug in front of the couch. What was it with these boys and cuming on the floor? He finished himself off, wiped his hand with the napkin I had used for dinner, then stuffed his dick back into his pants. He turned to leave. "Um...thanks," he mumbled, as the door closed behind him. "No problem," I replied to the empty room. "It was a pleasure. Especially the witty repartee." I got up and began to clean the floor, thinking, again, that Brad was right. In most cases, getting them off was just going to be a duty, and like most duties in most jobs, it would be neither interesting nor entertaining. With some of them, it might be a pleasant duty, as it was with Brad, but with most, I guessed, it would be more like Eric, who was clearly uncomfortable with his need to get off, and his use of a guy to do it. It was funny, I thought as I got up to go get a bucket and rag from the utility closet down the hall. Most of my friends would actually consider killing me if it meant they could land the job I was now doing. Surrounded by close to a dozen flawless specimens of raw, young maleness, I was the only sexual outlet they would have for two months, as they concentrated on perfecting their already perfect physiques. Still, it was not my idea of a particularly good time. Sure, I appreciated looking at them day in and day out in all manners of dress and undress. I'm not dead! But the joys of sex were intimately connected with sharing, for me, and there was likely to be little, if any, of that this summer. Ah well. At least I'd get some good research in. I opened the door to my apartment and started down the hall toward the utility closet, but was stopped by the sight of the open door to my left. It was Adam's room, and he was in it. He was on his bed, seated leaning against the headboard with his legs, crossed at the ankles, stretched out in front of him. He wore gray sweatpants whose drawstrings, untied, hung loosely at his waist. He wore no shirt. He was reading a Sports Illustrated he held in his lap. I didn't want to stop. Hell, I didn't even intend to look into the room. But it's human nature for the eye to be drawn in when passing an open door, and once there, it was trapped. Frozen, I simply stood there and surveyed the view. He was a picture of relaxed intensity. I found myself thinking of large cats -- even when lazing, they exude sleekness, power, ferocity. It was not just his figure, though I had never seen one so stunning; simply laying back and relaxing, the serratus and latissimus dorsi muscles over his ribs, thicker than my fingers, stood out proudly and distinctly. Nor was it merely his face, which, in repose and not focused on his prey, held an appeal that went beyond beyond beauty to something primal and unconscious. There was something about him -- something I still could not name or understand -- that acted directly on one's animal brain. I had identified a series of behaviors in the four days I had been watching him that helped convey his power: his stance and hip rotation, the way he manipulated the tilt of his head, his ability to actively hold one's gaze without looking away. His pupils did not contract when he looked you in the eye -- a completely normal and instinctive defense mechanism that everyone, except Adam it seems, possessed. But these were only symptoms of his ability, not the cause. They were the mechanisms, and only a few ones at that, with which he exercised his domination. He had looked up, and was staring at me. Only his eyes moved, and his lips, which, tightening imperceptibly, curled slightly in. I was as a deer caught in the headlights. Blinded, I was unable to move. Time ended, and the universe ceased to exist. There were just his eyes. I have no idea how long I stood there, frozen in my innocent, unplanned glimpse into his room. I only know that he must have told me to come in, as, trapped as I was in a place without language, without thought, my body turned, and my legs propelled me forward. When one faints, one's consciousness returns in stages. First, an awareness of orientation: I am vertical. Next to return are physical sensations, which spread laterally from one's center: my heart is beating, I am breathing, my arms are at my side. Hearing is regained late in the process, and while sight returns at the same time, the ability to recognize and categorize the images one's eyes are perceiving is the last to be recovered. I had not fainted. And yet, this was the process in which I found myself. I was standing in the center of his room, facing him. Having broken eye contact with me, he had gone back to reading the magazine, which I suspected was the only reason I had regained the ability to be aware of my environment. And the environment -- his den, his lair -- was, in itself, captivating. Most strikingly, the smell of him permeated the air, making it thick and syrupy. It was raw and sweet and raunchy and savory. It was musk and sweat and cum and honey. People who return to the ocean after long absences breathe deeply and with longing the smell of low tide, though it is the smell of detritus. Such it was that I found myself breathing in Adam. The room was also a sty -- clothes strewn everywhere in cluttered piles, no surface uncovered by the buildup of daily life. How could it have gotten so messy in five days, I wondered? To my absolute surprise, I found myself at his desk, reshelving books. What had possessed me to start cleaning? True, I don't like clutter, but I'm not in the least inclined to clean up other people's messes. I had even ended a relationship once when I felt my partner wasn't doing his fair share of the chores. And yet, here I was, tending to Adam without him even having asked me to do so. Or hadn't he? At once, I was confused. Had he asked me to clean? I honestly couldn't remember. My ears had registered no words that my brain had recorded. But he must have, otherwise why would I have started doing it? Adam continued to read as I finished straightening out the papers on his desk, paying no more attention to me than he would have an ant walking across the floor. Clearly, he was not surprised by what I was doing, so he *must* have asked. Why, then, couldn't I remember? I started to gather the clothes from his floor. The material did not feel familiar. This one was cotton, that one lycra, that one linen, yet they did not feel like cotton, lycra, or linen had ever felt. My fingers tingled as the material came in contact with them, and slid over my newly sensitized skin. The tingling raised goose bumps. And again, to my shock, I realized that that was not all it had raised. What could this new trick be? I was touching the clothes that touched Adam -- that hugged his chest, that drank the dampness of his armpits, that caressed his thighs, that jealously hid and clung to his manhood. I was only one step from his skin. But the sense of touch knew nothing of transitivity. How could it? This tank top, this pair of jeans, this jock -- there was no way they could be responsible for the erection growing painfully strong in my slacks. The clothes dumped in the hamper in the closet, his desk tidied, all that was left was to make the bed on which he lay, but I was not supposed to do that. I don't know how I knew -- I just knew. I walked back to the center of the room and stared out the window, as if captivated by the blackness beyond it. If I was to have any chance at all, it was to not look at his eyes. My hand rested casually in the pocket of my pants in a hopeful attempt to hide the erection which, in the quarter hour of my ministrations to his room, had not subsided. "Anything else you need, tonight," I asked? `Else'. I had said, `else'. He must have asked me to clean the room. He must have. "Yeh," he said, casually flicking the magazine aside onto the floor I had just cleaned. "Rub my shoulders." I can not walk to his bed! I must not! I was defenseless before him already, and had become completely compromised. If I was to be able to retain even a shred of objectivity, if I was to salvage anything of the summer, I had to find a way to stay strong. Athletes have trained themselves to endure pain - to work beyond what is physically possible. Grad students have trained themselves to read the unreadable and write the unwritable. Athletes have trained themselves to ignore the messages and imperatives their bodies gave them. Grad students have trained themselves to kiss the asses of arrogant, self-absorbed thesis advisors. These were not the credentials I needed right then. My body was not responding to my superego. I needed a way out, and my only hope was to use the part of me I had been exercising since birth: my intellect. Still staring out the window, I took the chair from his desk, and placed it, back to me, in the center of the room, and waited for him to come over and sit down. His mouth formed itself into an asymmetric, tight-lipped grin as he swung his legs over the bed, rose, sauntered the few steps to the chair, and sat before me. It was so small, this victory of mine, but it felt, at the time, so complete. I had made him move. *I* had made *him* come to me. I had avoided his bed, and with it, avoided losing the last of my restraint, of keeping at least some shred of dignity. And yet I had seen the grin. I had seen, through the corner of my eye, the comprehension in his face, the complete understanding of the situation, of my move, and the decision of how to react to the challenge. I had seen the total confidence that he would win. How could this kid understand all of that? How could he know? He sat before me, bare topped. I looked down on his dark hair, his chorded neck, the etched definition of his deltoids. I shut my eyes, determined to keep my head clear, determined to return to the realm of the analytical where I was so comfortable, determined not to feel, but to understand. I brought my hands to his shoulders. They were warm. No, they were hot. No. They *emanated* heat. His metabolism must run very high, I thought, and of course, that made sense. His deltoids, even relaxed, were unexpectedly firm. Massaging them was like kneading a 15 pound block of plasticine. His skin made my fingers tingle again, in the same way his clothes had, but more intensely. With crushing clarity, I registered the next symptom, the next in his litany of mechanisms of control: there must also have been a chemical component to it. Something in his sweat, in his skin. And with that realization, despite myself, despite everything I knew and understood and had studied, despite my hopes and expectations for the summer and my future career, I knew I was lost. To be safe, I could not look at him, could not smell him, could not touch him. In short, the only way to be safe from him was to be away from him. I still fought. I fought as I felt my hands change from kneading him to needing him. I fought as they began to caress, to explore. I fought as they swept over his shoulders, down the front of him. I fought as my fingertips found the hairs that ringed his aureoles. I fought as they sought out his nipples, feeling their texture, their electric charge. I fought as my nose, now near the back of his neck, breathed in the crudeness of him. I fought, knowing the fight was in vain. He took my left elbow in his right hand, and brought me around to the front of him. All he needed was the slightest downward pressure -- a mere suggestion of of a gesture -- to bring me to my knees before him. His smell roiled in my blood, his skin burned my hands, and his eyes -- his eyes. He looked down at me, and I became, again, lost. Here was his punishment for the affront of making him move. Here was his revenge for my attempt, feeble as it was, at independence. He let go of my elbow, and spread his knees lazily before me. He hooked his thumb in the waistband of his sweats, and pulled them down, hefting out his cock and balls. But I did not see them, trapped as I was, in his eyes -- his eyes. "You want these." It was a statement, not a question. Still, it required a response. My mouth had gone Saharan dry, and, knowing I should not, could not, must not, I felt my head half nod. The grin. The victory. The self-satisfaction. But it was not enough for him. "Tell me," he commanded, sotto voice. I tried as fully as I tried not to. No sound came. It was not because I thought better of it -- I could not think. It was because I had not had the presence of mind to breathe. He took my hand, and brought it up under his crotch. His dick, full and long though still soft, singed my palm. He curled my fingers around it. I knelt there, my own dick agonizingly hard and aching, and stared into the eyes that were staring into my soul. My hand felt the weight, the substance, the sovereignty of his cock. Soft, it was almost as large as mine was fully erect. "Tell me," he said again, bringing his hand up under my chin. His semi-extended finger made contact with the skin there, and, applying the slightest pressure, he raised my head a fraction, increasing the directness and effectiveness of his gaze. His touch! So gentle but at the same time compelling -- it was a reward. It was a caress. He had touched me, and the touch was electrifying. My ego crumbled. There were words uttered in an arid, breathless, hardly audible voice. I recognized the voice as mine, but not the words I was hearing. "I want it," they said. "You want what?" "I want you. I want to suck you. I need it," and seeing that he was still not satisfied with the answer, I heard the voice plead hoarsely, "please..." I had no will. I had no power. In the presence of this man -- this animal -- I had no self. Captive in the prison that were his eyes, he held me immobile, incapable of any thought that was not a consuming, devastating hunger to submit to him, to serve him, to be possessed by him. And he saw. He saw my will disintegrate. He saw my ego collapse. He saw my need, which is to say, he saw his complete and unqualified victory over me. He had expected it, he had engineered it, and because he wanted it -- solely because it was his desire -- it had come to pass. "...please..." His upper lip curled up in a mirthless grin. There was a sparkle in his eye, but it was not of delight -- it was unspeakable. It was cruel. "No," he said coldly, and pushed me away.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/master-beta-1

Date: Mon, 03 Sep 2001 21:26:54 -0400 From: David Buffet Subject: Master Beta From the Author: This is a sequel to the book I published on the Nifty Archive entitled Alpha-Male (this thread, last posting on May 15, 2001). While reading that work is not necessarily prerequisite to reading this one, it is strongly advised. As with the publication of the original, I'm posting this story as I write it. We'll see where it heads together. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive feedback is welcome except "write faster." Once again, this is a fully copyrighted work. Do not print or repost any portion of this story without the express, written consent of the author. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental. No animals were harmed in the writing of this story. This is an erotic novel containing graphic descriptions of homosexual sex. If reading such a story is illegal where you are, get off your ass and get political. Change the fucking laws! Finally, remember this is fantasy. In fantasy, you don't have to use condoms. In real life, you always do. Master Beta Copyright 2001, David Buffet All Rights Reserved Dear Dan, It's hardly been a day, and already I'm feeling somewhat out of control. Isn't that funny? A year later, and I'm pretty much back to where I started. Whose bad idea was this anyway? It had to have been yours. I wouldn't have initiated something this big. It's the middle of the night. I'm lying in bed in my new apartment having unpacked half my things. The rest can wait until tomorrow. I've been trying to sleep but can't seem to rid myself of the unbearable lightness of not having you on top of me. I can still smell you on my sheets, Dan. I didn't wash them before I packed for just that reason. I could tell you that already, after only some 18 hours apart, I miss the intimacy, the repartee, the intellectual challenge of being with you, but the truth is that right now I miss your weight. How did I ever get used to your falling asleep on top of me? And now, how can I reacclimate to a single atmosphere? Have I ever told you what I like the best about sex with you? There are times when we screw, Dan - not just fuck, but rut - when, both of us blinded by limbic ferocity, you explode inside me with such force and heat that I become fairly convinced our pelvises will fuse together. We collapse, then, panting, out of breath and our minds. Complete relaxation follows complete tension - a lesson in isometric perfection - and within minutes we are both asleep, your weight on me, your density in me, too exhausted to move, too content to want to. All of that, Dan, and we are still not to the part I like best. It is an hour later when, both asleep, me still impaled, you harden again. It slowly wakes us both up when that happens. Here, then, is what I like best. Those first few tentative twitches of you inside me. We are both still mostly asleep when it happens. It is that initial movement as you gather your strength to plow me again without ever having withdrawn. Slimed by your own cum - what's left of it that I haven't greedily absorbed - you probe my tightness, my soreness, my inability to refuse you. You seem to find, each time in a new place, exactly where I am most vulnerable and attack me just there. And you do it so naturally. We are still all but asleep. I am hard as a rock now just thinking of it. I know exactly how it works, and am still willing victim to it. There's the art of the alpha male. So why the hell am I here, so many hours away from you? Oh, yes. The degree. I could understand your insistence if you were Jewish and had introduced me as what I am to your mother. "He's so nice," she'd say of me, "and a docteh, no less." But you're Lutheran, and as far as your mom is concerned, I'm just another friend who goes to cheer you on at meets. Besides, it's not that kind of doctorate. Do you remember how focused I was on that degree when I met you and Adam? It was all I ever thought about. Now I'm finding I have the opposite difficulty. Yes, it will be nice to move on to the next phase of my life, but I wasn't particularly finished liking the current one yet. Well, the former one, I suppose. It hurts to say that - the former phase of my life. That's how I know this wasn't my idea. But the doctorate *will* be a good thing to have completed. And I know I've said this before, but I *told* you that they'd accept the transfer of credits, waive the course work and allow me to go right to the dissertation. You and Adam may have changed a lot about me, but you didn't change my marketability as a Ph.D. candidate in psych. If anything, you increased it by a scale factor. I still don't get why you and Adam are allowing me to use you as subjects in the diss. Of course your identity will be masked in the write-up, but the truth of the matter is that anyone who knows me will know whom I'm writing about. Your behavior is going to be clinically dissected in what may end up being a rather public way - including your particular history. I know we've talked about this already. A lot. And I know I've said this before too: my loyalty will have to be to publishing a complete, honest, and unbiased report - which might well necessitate my including a case history which would have to include a description of the incident. I know we've been over and over this - that in signing the informed consent, you gave me permission to write about that. I know you understand what's at stake here. What I still don't get is why you're doing it. You don't have to. You don't have to at all. Anyway, my digs are pretty nice. It needs to be painted and something seems to have died in, and is currently haunting the refrigerator, but other than that it's homey enough. There's a total hottie who lives a floor below me. Saw him on the elevator, and he gave me the complete scan, head to toe. Thanks for making me lift with you. I know all I did was complain about how much I hated it all year long, but I gotta say, the results are impressive. I've never had a chest before, and it's not going unnoticed. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my new advisor. He seems pleasant enough to work with, and he's got a good name in the field. That was the hardest part of finding a new program, of course. I mean, I had to explain why I left the old one and I couldn't actually come out and say Arthur was trying to steal my work. I'm still angry about that - can't seem to let it go. Christ, the man called me on four separate occasions over the first three weeks of observations and actually asked me to send him raw data. Raw data! Did he really think I wouldn't figure it out? This is where you would slap my butt and tell me to get over it. Damn, I miss you. Have you talked to Adam? I wonder how he's doing. Fine, I should expect. Adam will always be fine. It occurs to me that we might be able to coordinate when you each come to take part in the clinical trials. I'll need to administer the tests to you individually, but there's nothing that says we can't do it the same week (it'll take a little longer if I do each of you at the same time - that might present a problem if either of you is pressed for time) or at least have some overlap. Consecutive weeks, perhaps. He can come, I'll test him for a week, then you come the next week and I'll do you. That way, we'll have the weekend between when the three of us can hang out together. Come to think about it, it might be very good if you're both here at the same time - at least for part of it - during the trials themselves. I'll have to think more about this, but I bet I could design some interesting experiments that involve both of you. LOL. Get your mind out of the gutter. I just reread that last paragraph and can imagine you smiling at it. Fuck, I miss you. Have I said that yet? So tomorrow I have the meeting with my advisor. I'm going to work out a little, too - at least try to find the gym - and perhaps take a run. I've been percolating on the instrument to measure people's placement on the scale. What the hell should I call that, anyway? The Dominance Scale? Six Degrees of Trepidation? Should I name it after myself, or would that be too much? Actually, I should probably name it after Adam. It *was* his idea, after all. I'd like to work on that tomorrow too. That's about it. I've jerked off twice tonight already trying to get to sleep and think maybe the third time will be the charm. What shall I dream of this time? Dan in his shiny little spandex uni standing in the warm up area next to the vault and cupping his package? I knew that was for me at the last meet. Christ, you were looking right at me when you did it. Could you have been more obvious? Dan kneeling over my chest with his knees pinning my arms out beside me as he towers above me and dick-slaps my face? Dan trying to cook dinner? No, that would just make me laugh. I know. The junction between your neck and your shoulders as you fuck me. The way the cords bunch and the furrows just above your clavicles become deep right before you cum in me. That'll get me there. Needless to say I'm thinking about you. I'll write again soon. Everything, Mark

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/balls/balls-3

Date: Wed, 4 Apr 2001 03:20:29 -0700 (PDT) From: writtenbypsb Subject: Balls, part 3 BALLS - CHAPTER THREE By Stephen Nikolai See warnings on previous chapters. For David. Still. After that, I took it easy the rest of the winter, screwing around a lot but not getting into any bondage scenes. And I made a decision: I was tired of messing around in the minor leagues. At age 26, if I wasn't heading for the majors, it was time to get on with my life. One more year in baseball and out. Best decision I ever made. For one thing, I decided not to toady to their rules. I got my ears pierced, something I'd been wanting to do since my teens, and kept a goatee when I headed for spring training in Florida. The team executives didn't say a word, but I knew I wasn't making an impression on my new bosses. They informed me that I'd be at Double A this year in Mobile, Alabama, and that I was being converted to long relief, what they call a middle man. A hot summer in a redneck town, that would make a fitting end for my baseball career, I thought as the team bus left the camp in Jupiter, Florida, to drive us to Mobile so we could find apartments and get settled. The manager of the Mobile Bears was a handsome ex-Dodger named Jack Rose who wore a thick blond mustache and was big on physical contact, putting his arm around your shoulders no matter what you were doing, squeezing your shoulder, touching your arm. I wondered if he might be interested in me till I saw him doing it to every other man in camp. Either he's been in therapy, I thought, or he's gay. Whichever it is, I wasn't going to mess with him. Most guys in the minors are very young, very inexperienced, and very straight. As you may have noticed so far, I like my men older and wiser than me. None of my teammates did anything for my libido. Then they signed a Cuban defector named Juan Santangelo. Juan walked into the clubhouse with a swagger, but he turned out to be a sweet 20-year-old with a big heart and an amazing body, smooth and hugely muscled and slender in all the right places. He had thick wavy brown hair and a neat mustache, and the biggest smile I'd ever seen. I just wanted to leap into his arms and stay there. Juan was affectionate, to say the least. He hugged guys he was being introduced to. Even in the showers, he was totally un-self-consious, walking around naked, even walking into Jack's office totally nude. His English wasn't very good, and since I'd had a little Spanish in school I got assigned as his roommate. Great, I thought, I'll be stuck staring at this guy all summer and wishing I could have him, or better yet wishing he'd tie me up and fuck me silly. But he turned out to be a great roommate. He could cook, which saved us a lot of money, and he listened to my stories about growing up in the U.S. while sharing his own tales of being poor and struggling in Cuba. For the first time, I'd met someone in baseball I really liked; I could even imagine telling him I was gay. Juan liked to horse around too, and when he found out I was ticklish I was in deep trouble; he would grab me around the waist and start tickling me with one hand while holding me against him with the other. Sometimes I got hard while he was holding on to me, but I don't think he ever noticed. Juan was a star on the field too, hitting lots of big home runs and leading the league in almost everything. I started to worry that he'd be sent up to Triple A or the majors before the season was out, and I'd miss him if that happened. But the big club had solid left fielders ahead of Juan, so he'd be with us for the year. About six weeks into the season, we were on a road trip in Knoxville, Tennessee, staying in a cheesy motel room that was so small that the two double beds almost touched. I was just about falling asleep after our 11-hour bus ride when Juan reached over and started tickling my side. I said "Stop it," first in English and then in Spanish, but he didn't relent. He had a goofy but demonic grin on his face. When I tried to move away, he kept after me, climbing on top of me, holding my arms above my head with one of his massive hands and using the other to tickle up and down my sides and into my armpits. Finally, I said, "Get off me!" with enough vehemence that he obeyed. It wasn't that I minded him tickling me. The problem was that I was enjoying it so much I was afraid I was going to come, and since I was wearing nothing but a pair of briefs, he'd probably notice. And that would have ended our friendship, not to mention my career. Juan got off me, but he looked hurt, like a little boy who'd been reprimanded and didn't understand why. I went to the bathroom to make sure my hard-on had gone down, then came back into the motel room. He had gotten back into his own bed and was curled up with his back to me. "Juan? I just had to pee, that's all." "I'm sorry." "Juan, you weren't doing anything bad, I promise. I just really had to pee and I didn't want to wet the bed." I went over and sat on his bed, bouncing it till he sat up. I hugged him hard, the way he liked to be hugged, and then crawled into my own bed. A few minutes later, he was back. "So now you pissed, I can tickle?" I was bone tired, but I wasn't going to turn down physical contact with Juan. "Sure, what the hell." He surprised me by tweaking my nipples first, then running his fingers down my sides. I responded with an embarrassingly high giggle, then did my best to get his hands off me. Juan laughed, pretending to pull a hair out of my chest. I fought back in earnest now, desperate to get this behemoth off me. Eventually I ended up in the usual position, flat on my face, my hands pulled behind my back, Juan kneeling on my legs, with my ticklish sides exposed for his free hand. He reached down to the floor, still keeping me under control, and grabbed one of his long baseball socks. "Now I will have you for tickling!" he said as evilly as he could, tying my hands behind me with the long sock. What the fuck was this? Was he into bondage, or had he figured out that I was, or what? He kept kneeling on me, using both hands to tickle me up and down my sides, then rolling me over onto my back. I was bulging by now, and breathing hard, and Juan started tickling me again, but then he and I looked at each other, deeply into each other's eyes, and something happened. All of a sudden it wasn't funny any more. I thought, could he really be into this too? But before I could say anything, Juan politely climbed off my bed, untied my hands, and went to his own side. "Buenas noches, Andrew," he said before turning off the light. I lay there all night trying to figure things out. Did I dare take a chance on him? Juan seemed like a great guy, someone who'd be a friend no matter what, but baseball is such a homophobic place that I'd never taken this chance before. Then again, nobody'd ever spent a whole night tickling me half-naked before, either. I got up at eight, dressed as quickly as I could, and walked across the motel parking lot. There was a Wal-Mart across the street, and they were open. I went inside, took a deep breath, then plunged into the crowded aisles. I bought a hundred feet of rope and four bandanas. I started to leave, then remembered and bought a box of condoms as well. The teenager at the checkout stand stared at me, a big city guy with a Chicago accent and pierced ears, standing there buying rope and gags and condoms. I paid for the stuff, smiled brightly, then walked back over to the motel, hoping no one else on the team was up yet either. (Likely not; our game wasn't till seven, and we weren't due at the Knoxville ballpark till four.) When I unlocked the motel room door, Juan was awake and sitting up in his bed. He smiled when he saw me. "Good morning, Andrew." "Good morning, Juan." "Where were you so early? I hear you go but I do not understand." "Just went to get some stuff over at Wal-Mart. Go back to sleep." "No, I'm awake. What did you get?" I hadn't planned on doing this so early, but since he was up and I was standing there with a bag full of bondage equipment in my hand, I had no choice. "Well, since we had such a good time last night, I got something for you." "I am sorry about last night, Andrew." "No, don't be. It was great." I sat on his bed and gave him another hug. "I think we both wanted to do something, so I got us supplies." I handed him the bag and waited for his reaction. He looked inside, pulling out first the rope, then the bandanas, then the condoms. Juan smiled bigger than I'd ever seen him smile, then kissed me on the cheek. "Are you sure about this?" "Yes," I said, breathlessly. "I've never done it with a teammate before." Juan set the bag down and pulled me close to him. "In Cuba, I had friends I played with, and they liked to be tickled like you. And if I tied them, they would let me have sex. But then they would get confused, like I had raped them or something like that. It was confusing. And I knew if people found out I would be in trouble." "Well, you'd be in trouble here, too, Juan. They don't allow homos in the major leagues." "True. But in Cuba I could have gone to jail." Wow. I'd never known that. Juan was yawning, and I felt comfortable in his arms, so we just went back to sleep for a while. When we woke up, around eleven, I reached over and kissed him, not on the cheek, but fully, like a true lover, and he responded. We made out for a while, his hands ranging all over my body, my arms trying to encircle his huge muscles. Before long we were both naked, and he asked, "May I tie you up now?" "Juan, you don't have to ask. Just do it." He reached down for the bag of supplies, and began by tying my hands behind me. His knots were secure but not rough, and I immediately went from half-hard to rock hard. Juan smiled when he came back around to face me. He stroked my cock with one hand while stroking his own impressive dick with the other. Then he tied my arms to my sides with more rope and led me to my bed, where he sat me up against the headboard and tied my knees and ankles together. I was a little confused, since this didn't seem like a great position for tickling; my sides and armpits were hidden from his fingers. But I let him do what he wanted. He finished by taking one of the bandanas, folding it up, and pushing it into my waiting mouth, then tying another one around my head to hold it in place. Then he sat on the bed next to me and said, "Andrew, you are so wonderful to let me do this. I think I will just have fun with your big American feet today." And he started tickling the bottoms of my feet, stroking gently, then taking his hands away, then gently brushing me with his fingertips, never putting his hands anywhere but the soles of my feet. I was in ecstasy, totally turned on, trying to escape his tickling but unable to move. My cock was hard and gushing precum as I growled into my gag. Juan looked up at me and smiled. "You like this?" "Fuck you," I tried to say, but of course nothing much came out of my mouth. He rolled me onto my side now, as if getting ready to fuck me, but instead he untied my arms and wrists and then lay me on my back. He held my hands in a tight grip, smiled again, and then tied them together in front of me, a little tighter than before. He pulled my wrists over my head and tied them to one of the legs of the bed, since there was nothing on the headboard to tie me to. He added some rope to my ankles, stretched me across the bed diagonally, and tied the extra rope to another bed leg. "Now I'm going to have more fun with you," he said. Juan's fingers danced up and down my sides, and I could only squirm in my bonds. He was so agile on the field, and he was gifted here in bed too. My cock was leaking, and when I came close to coming he'd stop and let me rest. We maintained eye contact throughout, his big brown eyes full of mischief, his smile big as all outdoors, but devilish too. Finally, I groaned; we'd been at it for a long time and I couldn't take any more. Juan gave my armpits one last long stroke, then played with my feet a little more. I arched my back, ready to shoot my load, and he stroked my cock firmly, teasing me with those great fingers of his, and I shot all over the both of us, a huge load of cum. Juan undid my gag and kissed me passionately, wrapping his big arms around me and lying on top of me. He straddled me, kneeling, and stroked his cock on top of my bound body, rubbing it in my chest hair and nuzzling the tip of it against my goatee, finally bringing himself off and shooting his load upwards so it landed on his chest (and not in my mouth). He wiped himself off with his finger and ate his load, smiling all the time. "Juan," I said softly, "you're amazing." "You too, my friend," he said in Spanish, kissing me again. "Fuck me?" I asked. He untied me and said, "You fuck me first." We spent the rest of the afternoon fucking each other as long and as hard as possible, no rope necessary. As we hurried to get dressed, I realized that I was falling head over heels in love with Juan, and I thought maybe he felt the same way about me. We didn't talk much on the bus, and we avoided each other at the ballpark. I was terrified people might figure there was something going on between us. Juan ran around hugging everyone with his usual exuberance. I wasn't worried for myself, hell, I was ready to quit baseball already. But he was so talented a ballplayer that I knew he was going to make the major leagues, as long as no one knew he was gay. Jack, our manager, came over to me as I was pulling on my uniform. "You okay tonight, Andrew?" "Yeah, just tired. Didn't sleep much." "Anything you need to talk about?" Jack put an arm around my shoulder. If he were a little younger, he'd have been just my type, but all my thoughts were with Juan now. "We can go in my office if you need." "Nah." "I saw you get up this morning and go walking. You don't usually wander around at six a.m." Shit! He'd seen me go to Wal-Mart? What else did he know? Had Juan and I closed the curtains in our motel room? "Couldn't sleep, that's all. I'm not doing so well. I'm thinking, um, about not pitching any more." "We'll have to talk about that after the game, all right?" No! I wanted to say. After the game Juan and I were planning more bondage adventures. But instead I just nodded and hoped Jack would forget about talking to me. All through the game I sat in the bullpen tugging on my earrings and looking at my wrists to see if I had any noticeable marks. I was sure everyone on the team could tell what I'd been up to. Juan seemed unaffected by what we'd done; he went 3 for 5 with two home runs. I pitched miserably and gave up four runs in the bottom of the seventh inning, and we lost 11 to 5. After the game, I didn't bother to shower, just changing my clothes and hopping on the bus before Jack could find me. Juan sat across the aisle from me and gave me a big sexy smile, but we didn't say a word all the way back to the motel. Some of the guys were going to the bar next door, but we begged off and headed for our room. The second we were inside, Juan started kissing me. "I wanted you all night," he said. "I wanted to have you right there in the shower room!" "Me too. Tie me up good, Juan, please?" He smiled and undressed me, then kissed me again. He tied my hands and feet, then pushed me down on the bed. (I looked up to see if the curtains were closed, and they were.) He made sure to lock the motel room door, then took three of the bandanas and stuffed them into my mouth, stretching my cheeks wide. He tied them in place with the fourth bandana. I moaned into the gag as loud as I could, producing only a stifled "Mmmmmmph!" Juan laughed at that and said, "I like that sound, Andrew." So I moaned some more while he tied me tighter, pulling me into a strong and effective hogtie, so tight that I could sense my feet almost touching the back of my head. He sat on the other bed and just watched me wriggle and moan inside the ropes. For such a young man, Juan knew that I needed to explore, to test the limits of the bonds, to get to that place called "flying" where you stop feeling restrained but instead feel released by being tied up. When I stopped moving and looked him in the eye, he knew I was ready. He began gently tickling my feet, with me gasping and moaning into the gag. I couldn't flinch, which made the tickling even more intense, which got me harder and harder. Soon I was leaking precum and grunting loudly. Juan took his hands away and stroked my hair. "Slow down, Andrew," he murmured. "We have so far to go together." He released the hogtie and lay me on my back, then put me into a spread eagle. He then blindfolded me and began an all-out assault on my senses, seeming to attack every vulnerable part of my body at once: my sides, my armpits, my knee pits (and who knew the knee pits were ticklish?), my toes, my feet. Every inch of me was on fire, and every inch of me tensed when he touched me and tensed again when he moved his hands. Oh, he was good, too good. Every time my cock started to spasm, he stopped completely and moved away, but I could still feel his breath on me. Finally he allowed me to cum again, and I shot all over the place; when he removed the blindfold he turned it to show me that I'd shot cum right into my eyes! He undid the gag, and I breathed in deep. I longed to be untied so that I could embrace him and kiss him deeply. Juan knew this, but he hadn't had a turn yet. "Fuck me, Juan," I moaned. "I don't want to fuck you. I want to make love to you." "Yes!" I practically screamed, not caring how thin the walls of the motel room were. Hell, I didn't care who knew. "I want you so much." "Me too," he said, stretching out on top of me and kissing me for what seemed like hours. It was hot and sticky in that Southern summer night, but I didn't care. All I knew was Juan's touch. Finally he knelt between my legs and loosened the ropes on my feet so that he could lift me up to fuck me. "I can't believe this," he said. "All this way I came to play baseball and I found you." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you, too." "Make love to me, Juan." He smiled and began fucking my brains out. I don't remember the rest of it. I think I passed out from sheer joy.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-32

Date: Sat, 31 Mar 2001 20:21:59 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 32 Chapter 32: The Second Coming Dan and I were naked on his bed while Adam listened to his headphones and read. Dan had turned into a tiger, pushing, pulling, conducting, directing. Having crushed my mouth onto his left nipple and demanded all the attention I could give it, he grabbed a clump of hair at the back of my head and returned me to his mouth. He ravished mine with a hungry, hurried insistence. He chewed my lip, he vanquished my tongue, he stole my air. He raised his arm and pushed my nose and mouth into his armpit. The pungency of it! A stickler for hygiene, though he showered twice a day he used no deodorant. It was the smell of masculinity. It was the smell of charisma. I laved the hair and the skin savoring its sour piquancy. Again back to his mouth, but this time it was so that he could taste my face. He sucked on my cheek, my chin, my brow. Rather than move himself, Dan put my head where he wanted it. To gain access to my chin, he brought it to his mouth. When kissing, to allow for deeper exploration, it was tilted to an angle that suited him. I was following him in a dance, Cyd Charisse to his Fred Astaire. It required me to stay loose and attentive to his touch. I was doing what he did, but backwards and in high heels. He pushed me down, past the perfectly shaped patch of hair between his pectorals, along the deep furrow between his abdominals which stretched south like a state route in Western Kansas: long, straight and flat save for periodic perpendicular corrugations in the landscape. Down to his navel, concave and shallow, down to where the fine translucent hairs became long and dark. His abdomen was a rise that challenged Hoover dam in its grace of line. I did not lick him so much as I slobbered, leaving a trail of glistening, Pavlovian satisfaction where ever I had journeyed. Down, to where his potency lay, stretched upward toward me. Dan had me by the ears now, working me around his body. When finally head to head, I resisted his direction for the first time. I pulled against his grip to look up at him. He looked back. I smiled. Here is where you're bringing me, I said with my eyes, and here is where I'm happy to be. I will make you feel good. He grinned back and nodded. I turned my head back to his beautiful erection, opened my mouth and relaxed. I knew there was nothing else I need do. Dan would want to drive. And drive he did. He impaled me on him in one long, endless motion. The angle was wrong - there was no place for his dick to go without choking me. But I knew this was to be the case, and knew also that Dan knew it. He kept pushing me down increasing for hours? days? the pressure with no forward motion. At once his head popped into my gullet at an unworkable angle. I gagged but with no place for the bile to go, full as I was with him. My eyes watered. He pushed onward, stretching my larynx in an impossible way. Painful at best for me, this could not feel particularly good for him either, I thought, then retreated from the idea as something he had said earlier clicked in and finally began to make sense. I *was* doing something for him, I understood at last. I was letting him. It was the letting - the permission - the permission to do whatever he wanted, regardless of how outrageous, that Dan wanted from me. It was my gift to give him. He did not want my expert hands, he did not want my practiced manipulations. He did not particularly want my dick, even. He wanted only my permission. It was, for him, as much an aphrodisiac as his command was for me. Maybe it was not so important if he was gay or straight. Maybe it was the attitude he was looking for, not the plumbing. Just shy of passing out, he lifted me off him and let me gasp for air and wipe my nose with my forearm. When stable again, but before I was ready, he speared me anew. So thick it was! And so long! If I were in a proper position - on my back and facing away from him with my head tilted back over the bed, it would still have been difficult to find the relaxation necessary for him to slide it in to the hilt. As it was, entry was impossible without force. But Dan had the strength and used it. I felt close to tearing pharyngeal muscles. My hand grabbed the base of his cock in an attempt to take control - to push against the pressure. I could sense the smirk this raised on his face. It was to no avail and instead caused him to push harder. Again, I began to convulse in autonomic gags. Dan moaned in response. There are worse ways to die, I suppose, then suffocating on the dick of Daniel Magnusson. This was the thought that was going through my mind when he finally released me. It was the lake again, and I was gasping, spurting, and equally wet. My cheeks were covered in the runoff from my eyes, my lip from the runoff from my nose, my chin in my own drool. Dan pulled me back up next to him while I tried to catch my breath and looked at me. "Y'all're a mess," he said laughing. "Yeah, well..." I started laughing too, despite my overwhelming need for air. "Well, what?" "Oh," I said. "I didn't have a finish to that. Sorry." Dan took my shirt off the floor and wiped my face with it. "You're pretty this way," he said and kissed me. "Sometime," I said, "can I just rub you from top to bottom? I'd love to give you a massage." "Can y'all give me a massage?" "Yeah." "Little man, just so y'all know, you can *always* give me a massage." He laughed. "Oh! I thought you didn't want me to use my hands." "That's just when I'm screwing you." "Can I ask you a question?" "Yeah," he said, "you can ask." "Why can't I use my hands." Dan smiled and kissed me on the tip of the nose. "You want to be taken for a ride, little man, but you want to keep your hands on the wheel too. Y'all can't have it both ways." I nodded. "Now we get a punishment for askin'." "You serious?" "Naw. That whole 'punishment' thing's stupid if ya ask me. But I *am* gonna slap you around a little. I wanna see some colors." I grinned. "Be gentle wid me, massa!" Dan sat up sideways across the bed, leaned against the wall, and positioned me over his lap. My right hip was against his erection. Mine rested on his left thigh. "I be good, Miss Scahlet," I whined. Dan chuckled. "You like getting fucked?" he asked. "Ooooooh, yes. Yes, I really, really do." "Good," he said, bringing down his extended palm hard onto the broad plane of my ass in a moderately forceful smack. "This'll be fun, then." The slap stung. It tingled. He kept his hand on my flesh for a few seconds after he struck, feeling the heat build. It was pleasant - I was back on familiar ground. Plenty of guys liked to slap ass a little before or during a fuck. He spanked me again, harder and in the same place. My skin warmed. Again, harder. Each strike pushed my hips into his thigh, my erection against his flesh. He developed a rhythm. Largo grandioso, one beat to a measure. But each slap was harder than the one before. Soon little grunts were escaping me. I was wrong. Dan *was* bringing me to a new place. He was concentrating on the meatiest part of my glutes, aiming left and right, a little higher or lower as he saw fit. Harder and harder, the sound of the smacks was soon earsplitting. Again, though, what I was feeling was different than pain. It was a transcendent focus, it was a rapture of attention. Fire is transfixing. We can stare at its beauty until we are made night-blind by it. So too with its feel, I was learning. The fire below my skin grew, convected, singed. I was stung by it and its breathtaking intensity. Still Dan continued, unrelentingly. As the abuse continued and the flames increased, I was brought, slowly, to the understanding that yes, Dan was causing me pain. The slaps were no longer increasing in amplitude, but the sheer number and frequency of them made my skin begin to protest violently despite my conviction that he would do me no harm. Yes, it hurt. Yes, it hurt. Each slap ignited an already raw patch of skin. The little grunts grew to groans, which grew to expletives amidst uncontrollable panting. Still Dan continued, unrelentingly. There is a threshold. I don't know where it is, I don't know how to recognize it, all I can share now is that it exists. Across it is something otherworldly. Dan brought me there. For some time after he began, there was no pain - or if there was, I denied it. Soon it became too present to be ignored, and I fell hideous victim to it. But there was another stage beyond, a stage of which I had never even dreamed. Would it sound psychotic to say I shrank? Would it sound psychotic to suggest that I sublimated to a gaseous state and had an experience of astral projection? I found myself floating over my own body watching Dan minister to me. And it was beautiful. No. No, Dan was beautiful. He was in a state of sublimnity so glorious that he shone as brightly as did the skin of my ass below him. His face was set in an attitude of sheer bliss, the blue of his eyes glossy and gazed. From the tip of his fullness oozed a steady, thin stream of his satisfaction. And it was I - I! - who was bringing him there. There *was* parity. There *was* balance. And I was as active a participant lying there accepting his hand as he was swinging it. I had, all along, confused motion with action, direction with control. But the boy I saw below me, lying in semi-conscious, detached ecstasy as his partner beat his swollen skin *was* engaging in a behavior as active as that in any sport: surrender. I had surrendered to Dan. I had surrendered to Dan, offering him the gift that he most needed. I had surrendered to Dan, finding, for myself, the piece of the puzzle that had been missing for so long. I watched from above as he rolled me over. I watched from above as he liberally coated his bursting dick with his own spit. I watched from above as he forced himself inside me in one long, sustained push. He had brought me to a place where the pain of such sudden expansion hardly registered. He had brought me to a place where his head gliding over my prostate was merely another sensation to heap upon the endless stack of others already too overwhelming to catalogue. He had brought me to a place where, coming to rest with his thighs against my burning skin was, somehow, salving. And in that place he fucked me more completely than any man has ever fucked me before. It was not that I had dissolved that was remarkable. It was that he had as well. Together we reached the speed of light and in a flash of relativistic glory, became pure energy. And like quanta of energy, we were indistinguishable. The dancers and the dance were one. We lay intertwined for a long time when we were done, unsure where one ended and the other began. When we had finally recovered, Dan asked me if I wanted him to get me some ice for my ass. "Naw," I said, "don't move. I don't want to let go of the moment just yet. Besides, it doesn't hurt that much." Dan laughed. "Yes it does," he said. "You just don't know it." We were quiet for a while longer. I noticed we were breathing sympathetically. I loved the position Dan liked us to recline in - he on his back, me draped over his side. It allowed me to look at him, to explore him. I found myself combing his dusting of chest hair with my fingernails. "I'll take one of those massages now," he said, rolling over. "Happily." I began a one-handed rub of his shoulders. Dan moaned in appreciation. A few minutes into it, with my thoughts extending no farther than the extent of the muscle I happened to be working at the time, Dan said, into the pillow, "y'all thought more about what I told you last night?" The question caught me off guard. We had gone to different places, it seems, once the massage had started. I stopped rubbing, but, realizing the pause might be taken incorrectly, quickly leaned in and kissed him on the nape of his neck. "Yeah," I said, resuming the rub. "Well?" "Well," I said slowly, "it puts your thing about my saying no into a different light. I mean, there's more to it than I thought at first." His silence and continued relaxation, translated through his levator scapula to my fingers, told me to continue. "I think you did something horrible. I really do. But I don't think you intended to do it. And I don't think you'll do it with me...or with anyone else, come to think about it." I moved to work the lowest extreme of his trapezesius where it connected to his lower thoracic vertebrae of his spine. It would be the best indicator of his level of tension. "And it means a lot to me that you told me in the first place and it means a lot to me that you care what I think about it." My fingers found no new knots. Dan accepted what I said. It was the last time we ever spoke of it. I was happy that night as I drifted off to sleep, my head resting comfortably on Dan's deltoid as he enfolded me in his arm. No, not happy. Serene. My advisor called serenity the ability to be free of all but the moment. It was a new sensation for me and I reveled in it. My last thought before I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep was to notice Adam on the bed opposite us. He was still staring at his magazine, cut off from our world by his headphones. But he was smiling. I ran to catch up with Matt the next morning on the way to breakfast. "Heya, amigo," he said. He was all but walking on air. "You're pretty chipper," I observed. "Just glad Shmu's here." I burst out laughing. "What?!" "Yeah," I said, when I was finally able to catch my breath, "he *is* a good lay, isn't he?" Matt stared at me, amazed. "You already talked to him?" "Nope," I said, smiling. "Then how..." "Call me Shmu," I said, doing my best impersonation of him in the golden glow. "I like it. It reminds me of the sounds you make when I fuck you." Matt smiled and blushed. "Don't worry about it, honey," I said, so happy he was happy, "I've been there. He *is* good. It *was* the sound I made!" Matt laughed. "Shmoooooo...shmooooo...shmu, shmu, shmu..." He punched me playfully on the arm to shut me up. It was embarrassing him. I draped my arm around his shoulders and we set off for breakfast again, brothers. The morning workout was productive for me, despite the discomfort of sitting on the hard bench of the stands. I was seeing things in both Dan and Adam I had missed the first week of observation. The size of their personal bubbles was proportional to the effect they wished to have on people. When wanting to domineer, they stood invasively close. With each other, the bubble radius returned to average. There was an asymmetry of touch as well. Adam touched people. He would touch, in casual contact, their arms, their shoulders, their butts. No one ever brushed Adam. I had taken pages of notes in my little green notebook by ten o'clock, when Shmu sauntered in and joined me in the stands. "S'up?" He said, taking a seat next to me and casually leaning back onto the risers behind, spreading his arms in open confidence. "Welcome to the day," I said. "Have a good time?" "That boy can bend in ways that are un-fucking-believable!" I smiled and nodded. "It's unreal, isn't it?" "How 'bout you? Nice night?" "Very rewarding." "Which one?" "Dan," I said. "I kind of like him." "He's a stud," Said Shmu, looking over at Dan. "Yeah," I agreed, feeling the ache in my ass as I sat, "my very own pummel horse." Shmu smiled without getting the pun and surveyed the floor. "Which one is Evan?" He asked. I pointed. "Oh," he said, "good." "Why?" "Got a little bet going." "You can't be serious! Shmu, you're here for Matt..." "The bet's with Matt," he said, simply. "Oh." I watched him watch Evan for a while. "Matt's okay with this?" I asked. "It was his idea," Shmu said. "I was bragging about doing straight guys." I eyed him suspiciously. "Ask him," he said, getting defensive. "I believe you. Just remember..." "Yeah, yeah. I know. Baby fag. Save the day. Don't worry. I like Matt. So what's Evan's story?" "Really shy," I said. "I hardly know him at all. He doesn't say much. I'd be surprised if he weren't a virgin." "Mmmmm..." said Shmu. "Straight virgin. My favorite."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-12

Date: Tue, 09 Jan 2001 21:44:07 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 12 A Note From the Author: The Alpha Male series is the property of the author, who reserves all Copyright rights and privileges. Please do not copy this story without his expressed, written permission. The author wishes to thank the many people who have emailed him with feedback about the stories. He welcomes all email, especially when it is complimentary! He would like to take a moment, though, to point out the following: 1. This story is entirely fiction. It is not based on the experience of the author, or anyone he knows. The characters and events have been completely invented. 2. This is the first story the author has tried to write, so no other stories of his exist, requests to be pointed in their direction notwithstanding. 3. The author is very - acutely - aware of the typos in the preceding chapters, and apologizes for them. In particular, Doug is said to moan when only Brad is in the room, Nietzchean is spelled incorrectly (though honestly, how many people attempt that in the first place!), he has an inexcusable love affair with the comma, and, most embarrassingly, taut is confused with taught. You needn't point them out to him. He is doing his best to minimize them in the future. 4. The author is fully committed to taking this story to its completion, and intends to do so. However, the pace at which he began - one chapter per day - was possible only because he was on vacation. He is back at work, now, and asks you to be patient and satisfied with 2 or 3 chapters per week. 5. The story depicts acts of unsafe sex -- in particular, the unprotected exchange of fluid. The author wishes to point out that this story is fantasy, not reality. While in fantasy, it is perfectly appropriate to engage in whatever ideation most appeals to you, in real life it is not. He neither advocates nor practices unsafe sex, and strongly urges you to cherish your own life by doing the same. Finally, the author wishes to humbly and gratefully thank both G.- and R.- for their generous technical assistance in the writing of the recent sections of this piece. That said, enjoy the story. David Buffet Tightserve@hotmail.com Chapter 12: Behaviors I ran into Matt on the way to breakfast the next morning. It was Sunday, and they only had a cursory practice, with the afternoon free. "Hey, good looking," I said, falling in beside him. "Hey." "Had a good time last night." "Me too." "Hope we can do it again." "Hope we can do more." I smiled at him, and he smiled back. "Maybe after lunch?" "Deal, amigo." The morning passed slowly. I did the laundry thinking of Matt. He was quite sweet, it turns out. Sweet lips, sweet body, sweet demeanor. The joking was clearly a defense against having to coexist constantly with the rest of the boys. I pitied him, and I envied him. Pitied him for not being able to realize fully who he was among his friends. Envied him for the closeness he was able to achieve with them. Was I so enamored of straight male bonding, I wondered? I had never had it, but had never felt I missed it, either. I certainly envied him his body, but that was true for all of them. He must be lonely, I thought. Imagine. Being lonely and looking like that. Finishing up, I went into the gym, notebook in hand. The boys weren't into working, and there was a lot of just hanging around, talking, goofing, playing at routines. Brad, spotting Doug on the high bar, pantsed him to the delight of the rest of the room. Steve was teaching Eric how to do a break dance move on the floor. Adam was working the vault, the only one of them still taking his practicing seriously. Lunchtime finally came, and the kids poured into the locker room. Finding Matt, I suggested as it was a rather warm day, he get his swim trunks and a towel, and that we picnic at the nearby lake. Twenty minutes later we were walking the path together, chatting amiably. I asked Matt about his hopes for the sport. "I don't know," he said, "I'll take it as it comes. I just love having the opportunity to participate, you know? I mean, it's not like we get million-dollar Nike endorsements out of it. Making the National team would be sweet. I'd love to be able to compete internationally. I was much more intense about it before I snapped my Achilles tendon. That kind of put it all in perspective for me." "You think about the Olympics?" "Of course I think about the Olympics. We all think about the Olympics. Don't you think about the Olympics?" I laughed. "Yes, but I think in a more prurient way." "Huh?" "Sorry," I said, kicking myself for my unconscious insistence on using the ten cent words, "like, I think about the bodies I get to see. For me, the Olympics are just as much erotica as anything else. Very, very soft-core porn." "Me too," Matt giggled. "Can you imagine being around all those guys?" "So you feel it too -- the sexual tension these guys have?" "What, are you fucking nuts," he rejoined? "Of course! I'm not dead! They're pretty good looking, don't you think?" "You're pretty good looking," I replied. Matt smiled, and reached for my hand. We walked on, palms kissing. "What about Adam," I asked? "What about him?" "Do you think he's good looking?" "Oh, yes," Matt returned, breathily. "Do you enjoy doing him in those nightly visits?" "Doing him?" "Yeh," I said. "When you go into his room." "We talk about the routines." "No, seriously. It's okay to talk about," I said, gently. Matt shrugged his shoulders. "There's nothing to talk about. The last time I went, we talked about strategies for start values on the pommel horse. It's pretty weak for me, so if I'm going to perform, it would be best if I had a lower start value. But I don't want to be a liability for the team. We were talking about Johnston's suggestions for a routine for me." "No sex?" "I wish." "You can tell me, Matt. Really. It's no biggie. I already know about Brad and Corey." "What about Brad and Corey?" "That Adam does them during the talks." Matt stopped in his tracks, and turned to me, eyes wide with wonder. "Adam does Brad and Corey?" The shock in his voice was so genuine, so complete, he could not possibly be faking it. "You didn't know?" "Fuck!" He dropped my hand, and began walking toward the lake again, this time at a much more purposeful pace. Finding myself suddenly alone, I took off after him. "What's going on," I asked? But Matt, lips pursed in rage, strode on. I found myself almost jogging beside him, despite the fact that my legs were longer than his. "Matt, I didn't mean to upset you. I really didn't. I had absolutely no idea that you didn't know. When Brad told me about him and Corey, I just naturally assumed that..." "Well you assumed wrong," Matt testily snapped. "Look, I'm sorry." "It's not your fault." "What's not my fault? Why are you so pissed?" I put my hand on his shoulder, and, with some show of strength, stopped him in his forward progress. "Matt, what the fuck?!" He looked at me, and, I think, saw the confusion and concern in my eye. He softened, and looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet like a kid. "Sorry, amigo. My bad," he said. A grin returned to his face, and he turned his dimples back toward me. "Kind of intense date, huh?" I laughed. "Christ, bud," I said, "what the hell was that?! I feel like I just stepped on a mine and got my leg blown off." Matt shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders in demure apology. God he was cute. We turned and renewed our saunter down the path. "It was just a bit of a surprise, that's all. Sorry. I overreacted." "C'mon, Matt, it's more than that. What?" He was silent. "What," I repeated, more fondly? "It's just that...shit, I don't think it's so appropriate to talk about this with you." "Why not?" "Because I kind of like you, amigo." "Honey," I exclaimed! "It's okay! Are you afraid I'll get jealous? That's so cute. It's not like I don't come to this point without a past myself, you know." "Yeah," he said, "but you don't work with your past." "Really, Matt," I said, "it's okay. I've had more experience, I think, living in the gay world than you have." "Prob'ly right," he said. "This is what we talk about, guy. Shit," I laughed, "sometimes this kind of thing is *all* we talk about!" We had arrived at the lake. There was a floating dock moored fifty yards out. "What say you tell me whatever you have to tell me out there," I asked, nodding at the dock? Matt stripped off his shirt, and dropped his shorts. Underneath he was wearing a baggy boxer-style suit. I just surveyed him, drinking in the sight of his skin, his curves, his deliciousness. He stood back up, having shucked his shorts, and saw me staring. "What," he asked? "Nothing. You're just so beautiful." "Oh, thaaaat," he laughed. "Why, Rhet! How you talk! Bluuush." I laughed back as I myself stripped down to my trunks. Taking the plastic bag in which I had packed the lunch and rolling it in our two towels, I made for the shore. Seeing me start off, Matt let out a holler of sheer abandon, ran past me, and plunged headlong into the water. Coming up for air, he screamed. "Fuck! This is cold!" "Well I could have told you that, stud. It's a mountain lake. The air may be hot, but the water's going to be very cold." "C'mon. I'll race you," he said. You can take the boy out of the competition... I thought. "That's ok. Meet you there. I go more slowly. Besides. I got the food." I walked to the water's edge and gently dipped my toes in. Yes, very, very cold. I entered to my ankles, and shuffled, waiting for them to become numb. Another step or two brought me to my shins. Suddenly, I was screaming. Matt had submerged, and, coming up to my side where I hadn't expected him, had sent a large wave of water through the air onto my unfortunate spine. "You asshole!" He was shrieking with laughter -- the free, untroubled laughter of a boy. He splashed me again. "I'm going to fucking kill you!" "Gotta catch me first," he said, and with that, submerged under the reflective blue mirror that was the surface of the water. With far more speed than I preferred, I dunked, holding the towels above the water. Chilled to the bone, now, I had to exert energy as the only way to warm up. Turning onto my back, I stroked out to the raft, one arm swimming, the other holding the towels clear of the water. I made good time. Arriving at the raft, onto which Matt had just climbed, I handed him the towels, and hoisted myself out. "You swim well," he said, unrolling the towels, and handing me one. "Where did you learn to do that?" Growing up, we had spent summers on Cape Cod. When I was half a year old, my parents dunked me in the water. I came up smiling, and that had begun a love affair with swimming that had lasted throughout my youth. It was the only sport in which I felt competent. "Spent a year doing the Hungarian Water Polo Team," I said. "Used to play the game myself 'till my horse drowned." Matt chortled. "Anything you *haven't* done?" "Yeah. You." "Gonna spend a year doing me, next?" "We shall see. We shall see." The combination of warm sun and cold water had brought up goose bumps on his skin. I traced my finger down the lateral head of his left triceps, feeling the buds. He shivered, perhaps from the cold. I turned him so that his back was to me, wrapped the towel around him, drew him to me, and, leaning him against my chest, began to vigorously rub his upper arms through the towel. "Better?" "Much," he said. I kissed the corner of his neck, where his trapezius turned north toward his skull. We laid the towels out, sat down on them, and took out the lunches we had brought. "So what's the deal with Adam," I asked, as gently as I could, "you like him?" Matt looked off over the lake, and chewed his sandwich contemplatively. "Yeah. I've liked him since I met him two years ago. There's something about him." "There sure is." "You like him too?" I couldn't read his motivation for the question. How to respond? "No, it's not that. I just recognize his appeal." "At first, I had this really big crush on him. I thought about him all the time, you know? Like, college was supposed to be this big change in my life. I never did anything with anyone during high school. I was totally into boys, but I couldn't tell *anyone* about it." "Small town?" "Outside Des Moines." "Say no more." "But college was going to be different. I had just healed from the surgery, I was heading back toward competition-level routines, and I was going to the Big University, you know? I was going to find a boyfriend, win the National All-Around title, get a job and live happily ever after. College meant coming out to me. It had since I was thirteen. "So then I arrive, and in, like, the first week, I meet Adam, and I'm totally taken by him. He was an upperclassman, he was this real hot shot on the team, and, well...just look at him." "Yes. I have." "And every time I was around him, I just felt...this sounds so stupid...I felt like..." "...Tingly?" "Yeah. That's it exactly. I felt tingly. But I couldn't come out, or anything. So then, one day, I'm alone with Adam in the trainer's room. Didn't plan it that way. It just happened. And he turns to me, and out of the blue, he just kisses me. This incredible wet, sloppy, deep, long, soul kiss. His tongue just came out of nowhere and totally took my breath away. "And then, he just breaks it off, and says, 'Now go out and get a boyfriend, kid.' That was it." "No shit?!" "Yeah. Then he tells the rest of the team I'm gay. That was the only time we ever did anything. It really freaked me out for a long time. I kept wanting to ask him why he did it, or...I don't know...if we could do it again. But every time I got near him, I changed my mind and thought I shouldn't bring it up." "That's stunning," I said, entirely honestly, as I was completely stunned by the revelation. "Yeah." "And since then?" "Nothing. He hasn't talked about it, and I keep wussing out when I'm near him. So that's why I was so pissed when I found out he was doing Corey and Brad. 'Cause I still want to, you know? And then to find out that he's doing *them*." "Why do you think he did that to you?" "I have no fucking idea, amigo. No fucking idea." "And he outed you to the team? That's outrageous!" "Yeah. But you know," he said, turning to me, "that turned out okay. Even at the time I was kind of glad he did it. I wanted to do it myself, but didn't know how to. And then I just didn't have to worry about it anymore. If I had known how it was going to turn out with the rest of the guys, I would have asked him to. I just didn't know." He turned back to stare at the ridge of mountains in front of us. We sat there in silence, each thinking our individual thoughts about Adam -- Matt in wistfulness, me in confusion. I had been sure he was doing Matt. Absolutely convinced. How could I have been so wrong? I had so misread Matt's restlessness that first night when Adam came into the commons room. He had not been uncomfortable because he didn't want to be involved with Adam, he was uncomfortable because he *did* want to be involved, but wasn't. And what did this mean for my theory about Adam using sex as a competitive edge? Was that totally out the window? Maslow spent three decades of his life proving to the world that autistic children were traumatized in their early years and needed reparenting, only to be shown a paper that proved that the disease is neurologically based. The entire second half of his career went down the toilet with that one paper. Had the same rug been pulled out from under me? The conversation was interrupted by the sound of laughter from afar. Within a few moments, the majority of the team rounded the last bend in the path, and walked into the clearing. They had, evidently, had the same idea I had. This wasn't surprising. It wasn't like the camp provided a rich buffet of entertainments from which to choose. "Date's over," Matt said, turning to look at the beach. "No, stud," I said back, scooching over to put a little distance between us, "just postponed." The boys threw down their towels and kicked off their footwear. Shorts dropped and shirts were stripped. Together, they were quite a sight. I certainly enjoy the look of a naked man. But a man who is almost naked -- now there's an image. Plenty to look at, and just enough to dream about. Matt and I lay on our stomachs, propped up on our elbows staring at the sight before us. For Matt, I think, it was just another day with his friends. My erection, on the other hand, ground painfully into the wooden plank of the dock. On the shore, there was some negotiation, a unison count to three, then Brad, Doug, Eric, Evan, and Corey raced for the water. Five heads disappeared under the water at almost the same time, five heads reappeared with shouts and protestations of cold. The swam out and began their genial horseplay, splashing, swearing, dunking, and shoving. Dolphins themselves could not be having more fun. I glanced over at Matt, who was looking longingly at them. Clearly he wanted to join them. I marveled at the boys' physicality. Like Sherpas when they return to the mountains, they were happiest when they were using their bodies. "It's okay. Go play. I want to sit in the sun some more." "Kay. Thanks." He flashed me a smile, then was off the raft like a seal sliding from the rocks. I spread out more comfortably on the towel and shut my eyes, glad to have the time to think. How could I incorporate this new dissonant information into my cognitive schema? What was the game that Adam was playing? Adam could clearly control anyone and everyone. He had all the tools he needed to do so. Part of that control was clearly sexual in nature. He had demonstrated that amply with me. But if he could have sexual release with any of them, why didn't he? I had just assumed that he did more of them than Brad and Corey. Was it just them? If so, why? Was it more? If so, why not Matt? And why the kiss and the outing? I needed more information. I looked out at the pack of otters 20 yards from me, and called Brad over. His graceful arms brought him over in a backstroke. Reaching the raft, he pulled his upper torso onto it, resting on his elbows and forearms. The water that had slicked back his golden hair also dripped appealingly from his cheeks and nose. "Can I ask you a question," I ventured? "Sure, bud. Shoot." "It's kind of weird..." Brad laughed. "You're kind of weird, dude. What's the question?" "How long have you known Corey?" "I don't know. Five years maybe. We started at the same gym." "What was he like." Brad answered quickly. "Oh, he was a real asshole." "Corey?" "Yeah. Why?" "No reason. An asshole in what way?" "He thought he was the biggest shit in the world. It was kind of funny. This big mouth on this little kid. He was a bully at school and everything. Kept getting into trouble. Really had a chip on his shoulder." "He's so different now." "Yeh. He's grown a lot. Not a bad kid now. Much more serious. Doesn't get into trouble at all." "He was a bully?" "Yeh. Beat the crap out of this kid once. He used to try to give *us* shit. You would have laughed. He had this big attitude thing going on." "Brad," I said after a pause, "when did he change?" "I don't know..." he said, thinking about it, "...about three years ago, I guess." "Was it about the time that Adam did him?" "Ummm...come to think about it, yeah. It was around then. Listen -- no one complained. The change was way for the better." "Yes, I can see that. Thanks, Brad." He slid back into the water, and sprinted back to his teammates. A porpoise with a purpose. Like Alice, I found I the situation getting curiouser and curiouser. And like Alice, I determined it was time to jump down the rabbit hole myself. I jumped into the water, taking our towels and the leftover lunch, and stroked back to the beach. Arriving, I dried off and surveyed the beach. Adam was off to the side, lying on a towel. He wore a pair of well worn jeans he had cut into shorts. The ends of the legs were frayed and torn. His only other apparel was a pair of dark sunglasses whose lenses, though not mirrored, were highly reflective. I scanned the wind. It was coming from the north. I sauntered up to his left, and spread my towel a few inches from his -- upwind. I lay on my back next to him, and closed my eyes to the dazzling sun. Here I would be as safe as I could be, I thought. Eyes closed, upwind, and in public. "Hey, champ," he said. I resisted the urge to open my eyes and look over at his prone form. Instead, I just relaxed into the sun's rays, enjoying the display of reds and oranges it was causing under my eyelids. "Hey." "Was wondering when you'd be back." "Look, Adam," I said, "let's call a truce." "Didn't know there was a war." Whatever. If there was going to be a conversation, clearly it would be up to me. "So you been enjoying the summer?" God, I felt like I was at a bar. Come here often? "Yup. We got a good team this year. I like our chances." "You're repeating, right? Are a lot of the guys experienced?" "Me, Dan, Steve, Eric, Doug and Brad all have. Drew, Matt and Evan are sophomores. This'll be their first trip." "And Corey?" "He's only in high school. He's not even supposed to be practicing with us. It's against NCAA rules." "So why's he here?" "He's good. Johnston's grooming him. So technically, the camp isn't sponsored by the University. It's a private deal. The school pays for us to be here, and he pays for himself." That way, we're just training next to each other, not together. Johnston coaches him privately. The kid pays him, like, a dollar a week to keep it legal." "Got it all worked out." "Yup." "So what's after gymnastics for you, Adam? I mean, when the Nationals, Worlds, and Olympics are over." "Life." "I mean, what are you going to do?" "What are *you* going to do?" "I'm in school." "So am I." "What are you studying?" "Engineering." Why did that surprise me? Was I falling into the Brad trap, thinking that just because he was beautiful and muscular, he must, by definition, be stupid? No. I knew he was smart. I just didn't expect a rigorous discipline. Maybe a coach in training. Maybe a PT. But an engineer? We fell silent again. The sun was reheating my skin after the shock of swimming back to shore. I found myself relaxing into it. "I've been watching you in the gym..." "I know." "...You're pretty strong." "Yup." "Were you always that way?" "No, champ. I work my ass off." It was such an odd moment. That wasn't the question I had intended to ask -- at least, it was a variant of the question I had intended to ask. Yet, he had answered the words I had presented him correctly and truthfully. I thought about it. He did, indeed, work his ass off. I wondered if that extended to his interpersonal skills as well. "The other guys really look up to you." "Yup." "I know Matt likes you a lot." "He's a good kid." There didn't seem to be guile in his statement, or hidden motive. "What does a team captain do? What's your job?" "Encourage them. Work out strategy with the coach. Mostly, I look out for them." "You look out for them?" "Yup." He must have been playing games with me. He played with people's minds, and he was playing with mine. I looked over at him, turning my head away from the sun. He was lying on his back, his head resting in his clasped hands. He was in silhouette, as my eyes were not adjusted from the burn of the sun. He had not shaved that morning, and the stubble on his chin broke the line of his jaw. Slowly, as my sight returned to normal, his features resolved. The thin lips, the small, straight nose. The day's growth on his cheek made him look even more roguish and, I realized, alluring. I became entranced looking at his armpit. With such development in the muscles surrounding it, it was cavernous. I could not tell if the black hair in it was particularly sparse, or just hidden by its depths. Three small, spherical drops of sweat hung at the end of three of its strands. They sparkled prismatically in the sun -- reds and blues and oranges in unexpected places. I felt my salivary gland squirt involuntarily, and I began tasting salt, though my mouth was empty. Some fortunate eddy in the breeze caught the hairs, and the orbs danced, liquid marionettes. "You should stay out of Matt's pants." "Pardon?" The shock of the words brought me back to the present. I looked up to see myself staring at myself in the reflection of his glasses. He had turned his head, and was watching me watching him. How does he make me lose myself like that? He didn't repeat himself. The words just hung between us as I looked myself in the eye. "Why? Do you have designs on him?" Movement behind me in the glasses caught my eye, and I turned to look. Matt stood over me, dripping and smiling like a ten-month-old lab who had just been introduced to his first wet fetch. "Heya, amigo." I handed him his towel. "Heya." "You wanna take a walk?" I turned to look at Adam, and, answering both, but with different meanings, said, "sure." I reached for my shorts and began slipping them on over my trunks. Matt simply dropped his bathing suit before stepping into his shorts. It struck me as odd, at first, that he would so shamelessly strip before this group of straight boys. But, of course, he did it every day. They thought no more about being naked in front of each other than they did eating. He slung his towel over his shoulder and we set off along the circuit path. One hundred yards in, he turned and headed into the woods. "Where're we going," I asked? "I'll tell you when we get there." I followed him as he negotiated the boughs and roots. The dappled light danced on his skin. His hamstrings morphed in and out of corded definition as he picked his steps, hopping onto a log, bowing under a branch. I followed him, sensing a descent, though the ground was level. The forest opened to a clearing. Matt found its sunny center, turned, dropped the towel, and beckoned me with his forefinger. I walked up to him, and we took each other in our arms. "We're there." "We certainly are." Our mouths came together, and he gently sucked at my upper lip, nipped at my lower one. I feinted a kiss, pulling away as he began to melt. Another approach, another withdrawal. He smiled, and brought his hands up to the sides of my head to capture and prevent a further tease. Mine wrapped around his ribcage, finding his shoulder blades. My fingers dug into the rhomboideus muscles between and beneath them, pulling him forcibly forward into me. The kiss, once started, took control of us, and we gave into its insistence, tasting each other, breathing each other, consuming each other. He ground his groin into mine, as if trying to press himself into my very body. My right hand swept down the roller coaster of his spine, over the tremendous mound of gluteus muscle to his hamstring. I lifted, and without resistance, his knee came up to rest on the shelf of my hip. I stroked the light hairs on the bottom of his thigh, reaching up into his shorts to feel the firm massiveness of his ass. The kiss broke, as if it continuing it any longer would have caused us to erupt into flames. Breathless, Matt whispered, "let's fuck." "What's your pleasure?" "Either way," he said. "Both. Every which way." "Good answer," I said, licking his lips. "I wanna start by fucking you. I'm feeling this overpowering need to top, right now." "That can be arranged." My left hand swept down his spine toward my right, but detouring at his hip, curled around to his groin. I grabbed at his full dick through his shorts, squeezing it roughly through the fabric. "Mmmmm," Matt groaned. "I've heard about those hands." "It's not the hands," I said, slipping my hand under his waistband, pulling at his pubic hairs as it slid down to circle the root of his cock between thumb and forefinger, "it's the brain they're attached to." I laid him down onto the towel and undid the button on his shorts. He hip thrust on his heels, allowing me to pull the pants off him. Mine were as quickly cast on the clearing floor beside them. He lay before me as I stood over him, his knees bent and spread flat, his hands, unable to reach me, settling for resting on his own chest. Matt's dick was short but wide, the round ridge of its full head protruding well out from his already substantial girth. It was just shy of tawny, like his skin, but darker, and even darker still where crowned by the scar of his circumcision. Pinned fully against his belly by its fullness, his cock pulsed with his heartbeat. His balls hung unusually low, large and relaxed in a sac that was almost hairless. I, myself, was harder than I had been in recent memory. This young buck below me, willing, compliant, eager. He reached over and grabbed his shorts, taking out a packet of lube from a pocket. "Why, Mr. VanLuyken," I said, "if I didn't know you better, I'd swear you'd set me up." He giggled as he tore the packet, and reached up to spread the goo on my dick. The coldness of the lotion on the heat of my groin was exhilarating. I sank to my knees to give him better access, taking possession of the space between his legs. My nearness to him had its electric effect. His ass spasmed in anticipation, causing his dick to bob and produce a thin bubble of precum. I didn't bother guiding my dick to his hole. Rather, I leaned forward and placed my hands on the towel. They were almost between his armpits. This brought my face closer to his, and in the move down to his mouth, I slid my rigid dick over the crack of his ass up under, then over his balls. Taking him with my tongue, I ground the roots of our dicks together. A frottage ensued, as I extended my hip rotation back and forth, guiding myself first down along his perineum, over his pucker, reversing motion at his coccyx and bringing myself back up to the crown of his dick. His moans were strangled by my theft of his breath. But my boy still had the control that only a gymnast could manage, and need bespeaks desperation. On one of the journeys northward, he flexed, lifted, and rolled his hips so that the head of my dick, rather than poking, testing, teasing his opening, turned into it. As I had not expected it to enter, I continued the thrust, fully taking him in one unplanned motion. Unplanned, at least by me. He relaxed into it fully, the warm, tight, lips of his sphincter drawing me on until I could push no farther. I looked into his eyes -- those lush deep pools of brown. Mine asked if he were okay. His urged me on. I attacked his mouth as I withdrew and slammed home again. From there, it was more rutting than anything else. On my part, it was the release of days of pent-up nonreciprocation. For all I knew, on Matt's part, it was the catharsis of years of it. When we came, it was as if looking at the sun.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-10

Date: Fri, 05 Jan 2001 18:28:04 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 10 Chapter 10: Analysis The next morning, I asked Johnston if I could take the morning off. I told him I had some errands to run in the town. He gave me the green light, so long as I could set the boys up first. After breakfast, I took my position at the laundry, exchanging what needed to be exchanged, handing back work out clothes which had been cleaned, and distributing towels. This done, I went, as usual, into the gym to await Johnston's okay to get going. I surveyed the floor. Brad was working the pommel horse -- his weakest apparatus. Matt was on the parallel bars, being instructed by Johnston. My eyes scanned. Adam was on the rings, hanging, perfectly still, upside down. Agonizingly slowly, his body, completely layed out, rotated to horizontal in a strength move called a planche. He locked into position, his body perfectly straight, perfectly parallel to the ground, his upper chest and shoulder muscles perfectly straining and perfectly defined. Satisfied he had held for the requisite three seconds, rather than breaking the move, he remained horizontal and, in seeming effortlessness, raised his head and looked up. He was chewing gum lazily. His eye caught mine, and, with a smile, he winked. Fuck this, I thought, totally unnerved. I'm not waiting for Johnston. I stole into the laundry room, and found one of Adam's used unis, and a jock. Placing them in a Ziploc bag I had brought, I put them into a knapsack, and made for my car. The ride to the town was therapeutic. As the miles between Adam and me increased, I found myself beginning to relax a little. The wink was the topper. Hi, I'm doing something that competition level bodybuilders aren't strong enough to do, but I still have the energy left over to ridicule you. Hope you appreciate it. This boy was too much. But long as it was, his dick was still too short to fuck with me! I had a few tricks left up my sleeve. So Brad blew him, but he fucked Corey, huh? That interesting factiod kept turning over in my mind. Did that mean anything? Did Adam just like Corey's ass better? That seemed wrong. They *all* had spectacular asses, each and every one of them. Was it because Corey was youngest? There was possibility there. Was it just a coincidence? That didn't feel right either. My guess was that whether or not he consciously understood what he was doing, nothing that he did was by coincidence. Finding myself in the center of town, I pulled up to the post office. I slipped the Ziploc bag from my knapsack into one of the overnight delivery envelopes, sealed it, and addressed it. Fuck you, I thought. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Next I stopped at a phone booth, and called a friend I had who was getting her degree in organic. "Sharon," I asked, when she picked up the phone? "Hi, Mark," she said, "where you been?" "I got a gig for the summer in the mountains. Look, I have a favor to ask of you. A big one." The university had a forensics lab, and Sharon was a genius at molecular isolation. I explained that I had found a candidate for alpha male, and that I thought that there was something chemical going on. I needed an analysis of a sample. She hedged. I pleaded and promised a six pack and a mention in the thesis. She demurred. I begged and promised a bottle of champers with a credit in the thesis. She agreed. "Thanks," I said, biting my lip, "I'll send the package out to you in the next post." "What do you want me to look for?" "Anything. I don't know. Anything that's out of the ordinary that's organic. Keep an open mind, and just tell me what you find." "You know, your little 'I don't know' added about a day and a half to my work." "I'll make it Dom," I said. She laughed. "Christ, am I so cheap?" My errands done, I got back in the car and headed toward the camp. It was lunch by the time I arrived. I got my food from the service line, and brought my tray over to the table, where the boys were already half done with their meal. As I was passing behind him, temporarily holding my breath, not looking at him, Adam spoke. "Hey, champ." His tone was neither competitive nor insulting. If I didn't know him better, I would have called it friendly. "Hey," I said back pleasantly, not looking at him. "Hey, I got your number," I didn't add, "hey, le roi est mort." Instead, I sat and smiled at the boys. Doug was complaining about the fact that there was to be a workout on Saturday. "Fuck, man," he said, between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, "it's not bad enough we gotta work in the summer, now we gotta work Saturdays too?" "Yeah, man," said Matt, imitating Doug's plaintive whine, "next thing you know he'll want to make us work Sundays!" "Yeah," Doug groaned in angry agreement! "And *then*," Matt went on, not missing a beat, "he'll make us work Mondays!" "Fuckin A, man!" He was totally sincere. There was a beat of silence before the rest of the boys cracked up in unison at Doug's righteous, if misplaced, indignation. Brad lost the milk he was drinking through his nose. Even Adam smiled. "You're too easy, amigo," Matt said, laughing, "you gotta give me a challenge." Doug grinned sheepishly, having realized his mistake. The two punched knuckles in the classic bonding ritual. I spent the afternoon in the laundry happily catching up on the work I had let slide from the morning. Whistling, I fancied myself one of the Seven Dwarves. Perhaps the Seven Dwarves updated. Sleazy, Skanky, Whorey... Which would I be, I wondered? Foxy? Brainy? I changed the paradigm. No. More like a superhero. I am WinsInTheEndMan. See him turn the tables on aggressors, and bring them to their knees! I am QueerPowerMan. See him take it to the evil StraightTradeMan, and, with nothing but his rainbow flag and a copy of the DSM III, analyze him into submission! The afternoon flew bye. I rejoined the boys at dinner. I sat across from Drew, who smiled when I joined the table. "How ya doin' Heywood?" "What's with the Heywood," I asked back, perplexed. Steve had called me Heywood the day before. Drew smiled, and looked at his food. "It was Matt," said Brad, pointing his fork in Matt's direction, and never, it seemed, at a loss to discuss things freely. "He named you 'Haywould' after you got me off the first time." "Heywood?" "Yeh. Djablowme." "Pardon?" "Heywood Djablowme, dude. Get it?" I got it. The boys laughed heartily except Corey, of course, and Matt, who blushed and focused on his hands. After dinner, I went back to my room, and fixed myself a drink. It had been a busy day, and I had to unwind a little. I sipped half of it over the beaten up paperback edition of Marquez' classic tribute to unrequited lust I had brought along. But even that did little to soothe me. Feeling as if _100 Years of Solitude_ might have been a better choice, I found myself restless and needing some air. I determined to take a walk. Nights in the mountains are special. Used to the city, I had forgotten the sheer number of stars that pocked the sky. It was cool without being uncomfortable. The air was thick with pine and clover. I took the jogging path that circled the compound. It was dark and meandering, but at least I wouldn't get lost on the mile long circuit. The trees crowded the trail, covering it in an arboreal arch. There were eyes, but they were benevolent. A 'possum and I startled each other. I apologized. The 'possum, haughtily, did not, withdrawing, instead, back into the wood. The promenade drew me on. Halfway around, the trees opened where the path edged a pond. The vista was tremendous. I had seen it in the daytime before, but never at night. The clarity of the air and closeness of the cosmos were breathtaking. Below that, the pitch silhouette of the mountains. Below that, the inky stillness of the pond. Below that, the broken line of the grass at the near shore. And on that grass, lying, splayed out and asleep was... ...no one. But that would have been a great place to come across a sleeping hunk, I thought, wouldn't it? If only life were cliche. He would be the man of my dreams. Alas, it was not to be. And who was the man of my dreams? I returned to this, the perennial question. He had Brad's easiness and charm and joie de vivre. And the wonderful combination of intellectualism and raunchiness of John, an ex, who, alas, had moved away before I was old enough to understand that I should follow him. He'd have a great dick, of course, and an unabridged Oxford. Beautiful face, beautiful heart, beautiful soul. There would be tenderness and sharing; there would be play and foreplay. And there would be something else. Something unnamable. Something which, despite my best endeavors and years of therapy, would not show itself to me. Something my superego always had always kept hidden. Wondering where he was, and when we would, at last, find each other, I fell asleep under the beautiful blackness that cradled the canopy of stars.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/little-brothers-sex-slave/little-brothers-sex-slave-18

Date: Mon, 13 May 2002 22:26:47 +0000 From: Billy Boy Subject: Little Brothers Sex Slave, part 18 Brian decided he needed to reinforce Mike's new training. So he made another tape, which reinforced all the new thinking that Mike had. How he was going to act straight except when he was near Scott and of course Matt and Brian. How he would get so boned being in the locker room and the showers. How he loved to suck on stud cock, especially of his teammates, and Scott. How he loved being shaved and how natural it was. How he wanted to be a pussy boy for hot stud cock. How he would do anything he was instructed to do by the studs. Oh yeah, he was going to get trained all right. Brian smiled as he slipped the phones on the sleeping, drugged up stud. By the end of this night, they would have themselves another fucking hot slave boy! Brian let the stud sleep with his phones on as he rewound the tape. Pretty soon Matt came back in. "Dude..." said Matt. "Hey..." replied Brian. "Sup man?" asked Matt. "You'll never fucking guess man...we got ourselves another fucking slut here.." he nodded at Mike, naked on the floor with headphones on. Matt smiled. "Excellent!" he said. "How'd you make out?" asked Brian. "Good...Gave little Jimmy quite a show. First she sucked me, then I fucked her. He was watching it all..." he smiled. "She know it?" asked Brian. "Fuck no, he stayed in the shadows...figured no one knew." Said Matt. "Awesome" replied Brian. "Yeah, I figure, another year to two and the dude will be wanted to fuck her!" he laughed. They both laughed. "C'mere...I want you to see a vid of our boy here..." said Brian. Brian popped the film in the VCR, and the two of them sat down on the couch to watch Mike become a pussy boy. They laughed and smiled, as Brian did his damage. "Fuck, I knew the dude wanted it, ever since I tried to get him to blow me the other night. He protested, but I knew!" said Matt. "Fuck, he's better than Billy now..." said Brian. "Fuckin A dude!" as he high fived Brian, said Matt. As the tape continued, they both got hornier and hornier. Matt was so boned, he could hardly stand it. "Fuck dude...You are some fuking awesome fucker!!" he said to Brian. "He is soo fucking up for it!" said Brian. "How far do you think we can take him?" asked Matt. "Dunno, but it will be fun getting there!" said Brian. They both laughed. "Let's get some stills of these movies, and email 'em to Scott." Suggested Matt. "Fuckin awesome..." laughed Brian. They went to Brian's computer, and did the editing. Matt got Mike's wallet and found Scott's email address and phone number. After he emailed him, he called. "Hey Scott....This is Matt, Mike's cousin." "Yeah, man, sorry to call you so late, but I just had to tell you this man.." Yeah, it's Mike man.....Fuck dude, what a cocksucker he is... No shit dude.....I couldn't believe it myself....We even got some pics of it man.... Yeah, I emailed em to you a few minutes ago. What??.....you didn't know? Aw fuck dude, you should see this stuff....go on line and check it out. Yeah....I'll wait, sure..." Matt smiled as Scott when on line to get his email. "Yea...dude, got it.....do you believe this boy??? Hey, we got a little juiced and stuff and suddenly the dude is fucking naked, hard, horned, and ready to shave his pubes off..... Yeah, we could hardly believe it...But you can see for yourself... Dude, did you turn him into the cocklover he is or what?? No! Come on, look at more of the pics. Look at him with him shooting his cream all over his face.....how about the ones with him fucking himself?? All I know is that this dude was hot for you man, kept calling your name. I just figured you were his Daddy, ya know..... Well dude, you're gonna be surprised when you see him again....Yep, hot boy... Yeah, he sucked both me and my bud, Brian. Oh fuck yeah man, way hot..... Hey, enjoy it when the boy gets back, and Scott....keep in touch man, K?" Matt hung up and smiled at Brian. They both burst out laughing. Yeah, Mike was going to be in for a cool time with Scott when he got home. Brian decided it was time to wake up Mike and do more training on him. He prepared a nice coke "cocktail" and then went in and woke up Mike. The dude was so out of it, he could hardly wake up. "Mike....wake up man....come on dude!!" yelled Brian. "huh...?" asked Mike. Brian gave him the drink. "Here man, drink this, it'll wake ya up." Mike slowly drank the glass. "Oh fuck man...I feel soo fucked!!" said Mike. "Hey dude, look who's back." Brian brought Mike's attention to Matt. "Hey man....I like your new 'clean' look.." snickered Matt. "Well...you know...." Stammered Mike. "Hey Mike, I'm pretty horned up man, how about helping a bud out??" questioned Matt. "Well....I guess..."said the drugged up Mike. Matt started to strip. Pretty soon, he was naked and hard in front of Mike. "You look pretty horned too man..." noted Matt. Mike looked down at his hard cock. Fuck, why wouldn't it go down! He thought. Matt presented his bone to Mike. Mike opened his mouth and accepted the hard cock without even protesting. "Oh yeah, Mikey, this is soo sweet." Encouraged Matt. Matt started to pump the helpless studs mouth. Long dicking his mouth. Mike accepted all that Matt could give him. He moaned and obviously loved his new role as cocksucker. "Hey dude....let's move to the bed...I want some of your pussy" said Brian. Matt pulled out of Mike's mouth. "Uumm, Brian.....I dunno..." stammered Mike. "Sure ya do dude. Remember, you already fucked yourself before. You told me you loved the feel of hard cock in your pussy. Think how good a real cock is going to be....Scott will love your pussy man....C'mon, let's fuck man.." said Brian. Matt and Brian helped Mike up and they went to the bedroom. Mike lay on his back. "Yeah, dude, show me that pussy....oh yeah....sweet" said Brian. Matt watched Brian convince Mike of his need of cock, and he liked it. "What my cock, Mike?" asked Brian. "OOOwww, man, yeah...I guess I do..." said the drugged teen. "You sure man?" asked Brian. "Yeah, I want it..." said Mike. "Sure?" asked Brian, as he rubbed the cock of Mike. "Oh yeah, please man....I need it...please." Begged Mike. Brian and Mike smiled at each other. Brian put his cock at the entrance of Mike's pussy, and they pushed in. Mike moaned as Brian pushed in further. "OOOOOwwww, yeah...." Moaned Mike. It didn't take long, and Brian was balls deep in Mike's cunt. He slowly fucked the boy. Matt looked on as Brian's cock continued to disappear in Mikes pussy. "Aw dude, move over and hang your head over the bed, so Matt can fuck your mouth." Ordered Brian. Mike complied. Pretty soon, both studs were stuffing hard cocks into poor Mike. And Mike, knew that this was a good thing. He had no problem with it. He knew he loved cock, and needed to service any that were offered to him. Besides, his own dick was so hard, he knew it was good. Matt and Brian, fucked the dude for almost 15 minutes, before unloading into the dude. Matt filled his mouth and throat, and Brian filled his pussy. After they had pulled out, Mike started to jack off. "No, dude, don't do that..." It's much better to stay horned." Ordered Matt. Mike quickly removed his hand. "Did you like having cock in your pussy?" questioned Matt. "Yeah, I did, it was very cool, but why can't I jack off?" questioned Mike. Matt leaned in and whispered in Mike's ear: "Cuz you're a pussy now, and pussy's don't get to jack off, till they are allowed to....got it?" Mike looked at Matt and said: "Yeah, I guess so..." Just then Joe brought me back. I was covered in dried cum, and had probably sucked over 20 different dudes that night. "Hey, look who's back...." Said Matt. Joe handed over the cash from the night, and they all laughed. They had cleared almost a thousand dollars. I saw Mike, and wondered what had happened, but then, it was pretty obvious.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/balls/balls-2

Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2001 01:11:43 -0800 From: stageman7@juno.com Subject: Balls, Part 2 BALLS - CHAPTER TWO By Stephen Nikolai I'll begin with the usual warnings. If you're under 18, go away. If you're not into homosexuality, bondage, and light s/m, then why are you here? Go away. If you enjoy the story, let me know. If not, then don't read the follow-ups. This is a fictional story-no, I don't know any gay baseball players, I've never slept with any baseball players, and I sure as hell never played ball. The "I" in this story ain't me. But thanks for thinking it might be. For David. Well, my dreams of playing in the majors didn't exactly happen, as you probably know. I played college ball for a couple of years, but I wasn't much of a student, and I wanted to get on with things. After sophomore year, I dropped out and got into the major league draft. The Expos picked me. I thought that would be great, since the Expos are usually hurting for pitchers. Five years later, in 1995, I had bounced from the Expos to the Padres to the Braves to the Tigers, and hadn't gotten higher than Double-A. I was good enough to keep around but not good enough to move up. And I was damn sick of the life, the bus rides, the crappy fast food, the moldy locker rooms, and the secrets. See, in pro sports, you can't be gay. No question about it. If they even think you might be queer, you're done for. So during the season I was Mr. Conservative: short-haired, clean-shaven, and straight-arrow. During the off- season I went up to Chicago, worked in a brokerage house, and let my hair and beard grow out. The only hint my teammates might have had, if they'd been observant, were the tattoos I'd gotten on my upper arms, thick ropes that encircled my biceps and made them stand out. But no one ever said a word. By '95 I was tired of having to be two people, and tired of spending six months a year going without sex. When the season ended, I was frustrated and thinking of quitting baseball altogether, and with a record of 8 and 15, I didnt expect the Tigers to put up a fight. I didn't care. I just wanted sex, bondage, and lots of it. I'd discovered the Internet by then. Thank God for the Internet. During the season I could get on my laptop and exchange nasty chat notes with bondage- minded guys all over the country--hell, all over the world. I put a message on a bulletin board the minute I got back to Chicago that September: "Victim seeking rapist. 25 years old, 6'1", 185lbs., well-muscled, athletic, Jewish, blond hair, hairy chest, tattoos. You name it, you can have it. No limits." Hell, I didn't care what happened, I just wanted a good working over, and I didn't care if I died in the process. I got a lot of bullshit responses, but one, from a man named Victor, who sounded legit. He described himself as Arab-American, 38 years old, 5'10", 190lbs., hairy, bearded, muscular, etc. Just the type I was looking for. I told him that I was looking for a full-on kidnapping and rape scene. After inquiring about my mental health (I told him that was none of his goddamn business), he told me he would enjoy doing what I wanted. He would break into my house, tie me up, take me away, and abuse me physically and sexually. We picked a weekend, since both of us had 9-to-5 jobs, and he sent me an e-mail with his name, address, and phone number. I sent it back to him unopened, but he persevered. "Send this to a friend of yours. If something should happen to you, I want your friends to be able to find you. This will tell you that you'll be safe with me, and then you can relax and enjoy the scene." Well, I couldn't think of anyone to send it to, and I didn't want to feel safe with Victor, so I destroyed his information. We'd also set up code words. When he walked in he would ask, "Are you Andrew?" (If he wasn't interested, he'd say, "Sorry, I thought this was someone else's house.") My response was to be "Yes, and who the hell are you?" if interested, and "No, you have the wrong house" if not. It was a cool mid-October Friday night, and I was thrilled and terrified. I'd bought a shirt, slacks, and shoes at a thrift shop so Victor could destroy them (or whatever he had planned). I sat in my living room trying to read, but unable to concentrate. Victor had said he'd be there sometime after dark, but as the hours went by I got more and more nervous. Had he chickened out? Had he actually been lying to me? And what the hell was he going to do? Around ten-fifteen I heard the garage door. I'd parked my car on the street and left the garage open for Victor so he could transport me in and out of the house without attracting attention. It closed firmly. I heard deep voices. Shit, had Victor brought someone with him? I'd never been in a three-way before. Suddenly this was looking like a bad idea. I heard footsteps coming through the pantry, into the kitchen, and then up the steps into the living room. I sat in my chair, unable to move or even breathe. This was it. Victor had described himself accurately. He had thick black hair that fell to his shoulders, a full beard, and thick muscular arms bulging out of his polo shirt. He wasn't tall, but he was impressively strong and quiet. He stood there and looked at me. "Are you Andrew?" he asked, his accent harking from somewhere in the Middle East. I couldn't open my mouth. He narrowed his eyes and asked again, this time more emphatic. "Are you Andrew?" "Yes," I croaked, "and who the hell are you?" He took out a gun and held it gently in his hand, not pointing it at me. He hadn't said anything in his e-mail about guns. "I am Victor, or at least that is what I have been calling myself. You are mine for this weekend. You are my captive. Come along." I hesitated, then stood up. "You didn't say anything about a gun," I said softly. "And how did you expect me to take you? Just ask you to come and you would come along?" Now he pointed the gun in my direction. "You will come with me now." I walked toward him. He came closer to me, put the gun back in his pocket, and before I could react had me in a headlock. "You thought you would like this," he said as he pushed me to the ground, "but you will be very sorry." Then he barked out something in Arabic, and I heard more footsteps. Another man was there! I looked up to see the other man, another Arab, taller than Victor (was his name really Victor?), with close-cropped hair and a long, flowing beard that grew to the middle of his chest. He was carrying a large amount of rope. Victor said, "This is Abdul. He does not speak English well. But you will understand him. And you will obey." Then he tore my shirt off, ripping it from my body. He took rope and tied my wrists and elbows behind me. Abdul pulled off my shoes, then tied my knees and ankles. Once I was completely tied up, they relaxed their grip on me and turned me over to face them. They were smiling. "What's going on?" "Quiet, Andrew," Victor said. He took out a leather bondage gag and forced it into my mouth, buckling the straps behind my head. Then he undid my belt and used his knife to cut off my pants and briefs. I was naked now, naked and very scared, suddenly thinking that "rapist" was perhaps the wrong thing to ask for. At least Victor was gentle, and he seemed amused by my fears; Abdul looked like he might just kill me. They conversed again in Arabic, then Abdul went into my bedroom and emerged with the heavy comforter from my bed. They wrapped me in it, then tied something around it to keep me inside the roll. And then, well, I'm not sure what happened because I was wrapped up in the bedroll. I know they carried me out to their car, and I know they put me in the trunk, and then I must have passed out. The next thing I remember was being slapped awake by Victor. I came to and started to speak, but that damn gag was still in my mouth. I was still naked and I was tightly and thoroughly tied to a chair. Victor sat across from me drinking whiskey and humming to himself. When he saw that I was awake, he said, "Well, good job, Andrew, you've survived. I wanted to be sure you were alive before I went to bed. We will begin the torture in the morning." I grunted something into the gag. "You should stop that. You could hurt yourself," he said, laughing at his own joke. Then he came over and touched me on the cheek. "I hope you said goodbye to all your friends at the stock exchange. You won't be seeing them again." With that, he left. I struggled in my bonds, but they'd done a damn good job of tying me up. I wasn't going anywhere, and I sure as hell wasn't going back to sleep. They hadn't blindfolded me, so I looked around the room. It was a windowless storage room with a table, a bed, and a few chairs. It was filthy, with dirt on the floor and stains on the bed sheets. There was a bare bulb in the ceiling that was kept on at all times. I had no clue what time it was or even what day it was. It felt like I'd been tied to that chair for days. Victor and Abdul were attractive men. Too bad they were thugs. Suddenly I made the connection: I'd told them I was Jewish. Shit! Normally I don't bother about that, since I rarely go to temple and haven't kept kosher since my teens, but holy shit! Now I struggled and tried even harder to get free, with no success. After a while, Abdul came into the room and looked me over carefully. He came to the chair and untied me from it, though leaving my hands and feet tied and my mouth gagged. I was weak from sitting all night in the chair, so he dragged me across the room and onto the bed, face down. "Now rape," he muttered, lubing my asshole with something and quickly sticking his finger up my ass. He wasn't gentle, that's for sure. Well, I'd asked for "now rape," and I was getting it. He stood up and threw off his clothes, revealing a skinny body with hairy pecs underneath that huge beard. His legs and arms were thin but wiry, and his cock was nothing special, though I hadn't been with a lot of uncut men. He put on a condom (thank God), jerked himself hard, then slapped me on the ass. He knelt on the bed, pulled my ass into position, and stuck his cock where he wanted it to go, as hard as possible, shoving all of it into me. There was absolutely no emotion in it. You imagine rape to be an act of passion; this was more like a required bodily function. He didn't hurt me, but he didn't seem to give a damn either. He fucked me hard, ramming my face into the thin mattress, then shot his load into the condom, pulled his cock out, picked up his clothes, and left me alone. At least now I was on the bed and could move around a little. I rolled over onto my side and tried to rest. The rubber plug in my mouth was hurting me, and I was pretty much out of saliva. I couldn't have made a sound even if I'd been ungagged. And I couldn't help wondering what the fuck these guys were up to. Then Victor came in. He was shirtless, exposing the hairiest torso I'd ever seen; he was covered with thick black hair from shoulders to waist, front and back, and my cock stirred to see him. He had a pitcher of water in his hands, and I was even more lustful for that. He sat down on the bed and pulled me into a sitting position. "You will be quiet, yes, if I remove the gag?" I nodded vehemently. He unbuckled the leather straps and removed the gag, then poured a glass of water and held it to my lips. I drank gratefully. When I'd emptied the glass, Victor put it down. "You did not expect this, did you? You wanted ravishment, not rape, yes? I'm almost sorry I got you into this. But you were clear about what you wanted, so you can't go back now. It's a shame, too, such a handsome young man." "Please," I whispered. Victor slapped me across the face, harder than I'd expected, but his face betrayed no anger. He was perfectly calm. "Now is my turn," he said, putting the water and glass on the table. He pulled me down to the floor roughly, then sat in the chair on the other side of the room. "Come here and suck my cock. Do it right and you will live." Simple as that. I looked in his eyes, trying to decide whether he was serious or just playing the game we'd set up. Was it still a game? I wanted to ask him, but my head was still ringing from that slap and I didn't want to risk another. Instead, I pulled myself to my knees and struggled across the floor till my head was in his lap. Victor opened his zipper and took out his cock, which was huge, thick, and uncut. He was already hard and oozing precum. "You may be a Jew, but you are a handsome one," he said, pushing my face into his crotch. I regained my balance, then began sucking his cock, using every trick I'd learned. Over the years I'd gotten pretty good at giving head with my hands tied, and I did my best licking and sucking for Victor. He moaned as I deep- throated him, grabbing the back of my head to make sure I didn't stop. After what seemed like forever, he finally began shooting his load, splashing it deep into me; I could feel it sliding down inside me. "I am clean," he said, zipping his pants and pushing me away. "You did all right. I will bring you food. Ham sandwich," he said, in what I hoped was an attempt at humor. I just lay there on the floor, not sure what to do next. My arms ached from being tied up for hours, and the glass of water had only just begun to quench my thirst. I looked up at Victor, who stroked his beard and shook his head. "Poor little Andrew. Doesn't know what the fuck he got himself into. And never will." With that, he picked me up again and threw me roughly on the bed. The gag went back into my mouth, but he untied my wrists and ankles and retied me in a face- up spread-eagle, using soft leather straps that had been in his pocket. He was forceful, grabbing me and pushing me into position roughly, but I detected a tenderness under the violence. I had the feeling I was going to have to depend on that tenderness to get out of this room alive. I was there for a long time. I have no idea how long. There was no clock in the room, no window, and no way for me to gauge time. Finally Abdul came in carrying a small paper bag. He untied me from the bed but made it clear that I was not going anywhere. He pulled me to the chair and tied me again, this time with my hands in front. "Food," he said in his heavy accent. "You eat." It seemed bizarre, but they'd gone to McDonald's, probably figuring that a stupid American like me wanted that stuff. Either that or it was another punishment. In any case, he sat down, watching me carefully and stroking that long dark beard of his. My hands were tied in front of me, with a rope connecting them to my knees that allowed just enough freedom for me to reach in front and grasp the bag. Inside was a Big Mac and fries that were still a little warm. I smiled at Abdul and said "Thank you." He did not acknowledge this. I began eating, trying not to eat too fast despite my hunger. Abdul saw that I couldn't reach the Coke he'd bought for me, so he pushed it closer. Again I said "Thank you," and again he did not respond. When I finished, he took the trash away and left me tied to the chair. I tried to look into the house when he opened the door, but he was too fast for me. Left there with a bit of mobility, I tried to see if I could untie myself, but he was an expert. Besides, I thought, even if I got loose, they'd only punish me for it. After a few moments, Victor came back in. He'd gotten dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, and he asked me if I was all right. "Um, I guess," I said. "Of course you are not comfortable," he said. "You are not hurt?" "No, but--" He interrupted me. "That's enough. Abdul and I have decided that we will not have to gag you. The room is isolated enough. No one can hear you. This privilege will be taken away, however, if you abuse it. Do you understand?" "Yes. Thank you." Victor reached in front of me and untied my hands, then pulled them behind me and began tying them again. "Please," I said. "Can't I be in some other position?" "Later, perhaps," he said. He blindfolded me again, then left me in the chair. Again time went by. I couldn't hear a thing outside the room. If Victor and Abdul were talking or watching television, or if anything was going on outside the house, I couldn't hear it. This wasn't rape. This was fucking boring, and I wasn't even scared any more. I was pissed off. I began working hard at untying myself, and I must have made some noise, because Victor was back in the room in a flash. "What are you doing?" "I hate you," I said. I was tired of being polite and playing the victim. "I want out of here. I don't care what day it is, I want to go home!" Victor slapped me again. "Shut the fuck up! You gave yourself to me for the weekend, you will obey. I was going to bring you water, but not now." And then he lapsed into Arabic, probably condemning me to some hell that looked a lot like this room. I was near tears now, exhausted and aching from being tied up for so long. I wanted a shower so bad I'd have done anything. After a moment I heard Victor leave the room, closing the door behind him. Then I heard arguing. They were loud enough for me to hear, and while I had no idea what they were saying, it sounded like Abdul was pissed at Victor, who was losing the argument. I'd figured out that Abdul was the one in charge of whatever they did. At the end of the argument, Victor said, "Fuck you!" and I heard a door slam. Then I heard the door to the room open. Both of them were angry about something and I was afraid of what they might do to me in a bad mood. "Andrew," Victor said softly. "Yes?" "I did not expect this to happen. Abdul is very angry. We found out you were a baseball player--" "How did you find that out?" "Never mind that now. We thought you were rich, like the famous players." I realized what the whole thing had been about. "Oh, shit. You were expecting ransom or something." "Yes." Victor came over and removed my blindfold. He looked very sad. "I am sorry, Andrew. Now that Abdul knows you have no money, I am afraid..." "Oh, my God. Victor--what the hell can I do? Anything. Tell me." Victor just shook his head. He came over to me and embraced me, his big hairy arms around me. He made no move to untie me, but just held me, then turned his face to mine and kissed me softly on the cheek. For some reason, I responded to his gentleness, and we kissed again, his beard brushing against mine as our lips and tongues met. His hand stroked my chest and my cock, for the first time all weekend, responded. "I'm so sorry," he said again, but I didn't care. His hand went for my cock and he whispered, "You didn't even get to come, did you?" He started jerking me off, nuzzling his warm body against me and kissing my neck. I wriggled in my ropes, enjoying the attention, totally turned on not only by Victor's presence but by the danger in the situation. I was scared, but somehow Victor made me feel safe for just that moment. Then Abdul walked in. He growled something in Arabic, then took out a gun. "Oh, shit," I said. Victor moved quickly away from me and stammered something in Arabic that sounded like an apology, but Abdul wasn't buying it. The gun was aimed at Victor, not at me. "Victor," I said softly. Victor looked at me. "I'm sorry," he said. Abdul motioned for Victor to leave me and follow him into the other room. They closed the door, leaving me alone. This time I had to get free. I worked like hell trying to untie my hands, but they'd done a great job. My cock was still half hard, wondering what the hell was going on out there. I didn't hear a thing for what seemed like an hour. Then the door opened again. Abdul walked in and looked at me. "You fuck," he said quietly. He walked over and untied me from the chair, though he left my hands tied behind me. "What have you done with Victor?" I asked. Abdul slapped me, then smiled. "You see," he said. Then he took the leather gag and stuffed it back in my mouth, buckling it tightly behind my head. His long beard brushed against me as he laid me down on the bed, tying my knees and ankles together with the rope he'd just removed from my body. Then he pulled me into a brutally tight hogtie, roping my elbows to my ankles and pulling me into a painful position. I moaned, but Abdul only laughed at my predicament. He left me on the bed, and I struggled for a bit, but I knew it was futile. Then he led Victor into the room. There was no need for the gun now. Victor was tied up! He had a leather gag in his mouth just like the one in my mouth, and his upper body was bound tightly, his hands secured behind him with heavy rope. Victor looked at me nervously, and I tried to reassure him with my eyes, but there wasn't much I could do. "You together," Abdul said in his accent as he set Victor on the bed next to me and proceeded to tie his legs, pulling him into a hogtie every bit as tight as the one I was in. Victor groaned with every knot, and it was obvious he wasn't used to being bound and gagged. When Abdul was finished, he pushed me over onto my side, then pushed Victor and I together, face to face. "You together," he said again, then said something in Arabic that made Victor go pale. Abdul took another length of rope and tied it around my waist, then tied it around Victor's waist so he and I were face to face, lying on our sides, unable to move or help each other. The tightness of the hogtie meant we couldn't even enjoy each other's company. "Good night," Abdul said. "You die tomorrow." He closed the door behind him as he left. Victor and I faced each other. Well, I thought, if we're gonna die, we may as well enjoy the last hours. I nuzzled his face as best I could, and he moaned. He was scared, I could see it in his eyes, and I gently touched my face to his, rubbing my nose against his, trying to make him comfortable. He responded after a moment, and I could feel his cock growing hard and rubbing against the hair on my stomach. My cock was getting hard too, and I was longing to cum. We rubbed together intensely, our bound bodies intimately connecting, Victor's thick fur brushing against my lighter coating of hair. And every movement, when you're hogtied, reverberates against your entire body; if you move one muscle in your arm, every other body part feels it, and now every movement Victor made echoed in my muscles as well. Finally, I was getting close, and I moaned into my gag. Victor stopped moving and just gazed into my eyes, his dark brown eyes burning a hole in mine. I longed to kiss him, to be untied and free to touch him. And with that thought, I shot my load all over the both of us, coming all over the place, one of the biggest loads I'd ever had. Victor seemed to smile as he touched his bearded chin to mine, and then he shot his own load right where mine was. We had a big sticky mess between us, all over the bed. I thought of Abdul punishing us, and then I got scared again. We must have fallen asleep in our ropes. I was startled to feel myself being moved, and when I opened my eyes I saw that Abdul had cut the hogties loose and tied Victor's feet and mine together. Victor was now lying on his back with me still tied to him. Abdul said simply "Fun" and began to whip me. I've never been into whipping, and I'm still not. This just hurt like hell, and every blow forced me into Victor's soft, hairy body. After about twenty strokes Abdul turned us over so that I was on my back, and Victor got twenty of his own. I looked over at Abdul, who was naked and stroking his hard cock. He reached over and grabbed Victor's ass, spread his hole wide, and began fucking Victor, who groaned painfully into his gag. My ass was sore, my whole body ached from being tied up for two days or longer, and now Victor was being shoved into me. Finally Abdul finished fucking Victor, and he untied the ropes that held us together. He untied Victor's feet and legs, and pulled him into a standing position. "Now die," he said, pushing Victor out of the room. I writhed and struggled, trying to get free, trying to do something to save Victor, but I wasn't any closer to untying myself than I had been the first day. Then I heard the gunshot. I screamed into my gag. What the fuck was going on? Abdul returned. He looked at me and stroked his beard, holding the gun in his hand. I was whimpering now. He untied my legs and knees, then harshly pulled me to my feet and marched me out into the other room, the first time I'd seen it. I was terrified of what I might find out there, but it was just a normal living room with chairs and a couch and a TV, nicely decorated. What was going on? Then Abdul removed my gag and untied my wrists. And in walked Victor with a plate of sandwiches and three cups of coffee on a tray. "Did we get you?" he asked in a new voice, one with no trace of an accent. I couldn't respond. "I think he's still trying to figure us out," Abdul said, laughing a bit, with a bit of a Southern accent. "What is this?" Victor put the tray down and took me in his arms. "Hi. Did you enjoy your weekend? Or did we overdo it? "What the fuck?" I still couldn't grasp it. Abdul came over and gave me a hug, his thick beard brushing against me. "You're not killers?" "Hell, no," Abdul said. "My name isn't Abdul, it's Dave, and I'm from Pittsburgh. Vic's from Cleveland. We just like having fun. And you seemed like someone who wanted a big scene to play." "But holy shit, all that kidnapping crap, you really had me going." My heart was pumping so hard now. I was angry at being deceived, or was I just angry that I'd fallen for them? By now they had bathrobes on, and Abdul, or Dave, whatever, was handing me one. I put it on, then sat down for lunch. "What time is it?" "It's about two p.m. on Sunday," Victor said. "I'm sorry. We really fucked with your head, didn't we?" I could only nod. They both apologized, and we talked for a long time. They were lovers, of course, and liked to have three-ways with guys like me. Dave brought out some salve for my rope burns, and Victor made sure I had plenty to eat and drink, and later that afternoon we had a nice three-way with no ropes at all. They turned out to be nice guys, and we've kept in touch. But now that I know who they really are, well, I'm not as excited, if you know what I mean. Who wants to be raped by a nice yuppie couple from Downers Grove, Illinois? But I'll never forget how I felt in that storage room, tied and gagged and awaiting my execution. That's what a good top can do for a hot guy like me.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-16

Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2001 12:01:16 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 16 Chapter 16: Thesis and Antitheses I sat in the stands in the bleachers watching the team work out. My green notebook was in my lap, but I was not writing. Instead, I was lost in thought as my eyes surveyed the boys. Adam. What the hell to do about Adam? If Sharon was right, and I had every reason to think she would be - she was *very* good at what she did - then I couldn't leave the camp. That was why my suitcase, still open and partially packed, lay on a corner of the floor of my bedroom instead of full and in my car. Studying Adam would mean not only a sure pass on the dis, but, evidently, a great deal of money. Who knows? A Nobel Prize in chemistry or medicine? It was not like me to be so grandiose, but I had never heard Sharon that excited before. But how could I study him if he had such power over me? He was beginning to infect me. That dream! My advisor's voice rang distantly in my head. The scientific method, it said. Question your assumptions. What if you are wrong? Think it through. What if I was wrong? If I were wrong, then Adam was right - he was a knight in shining armor, using his extraordinary powers for the good of people rather than for his own perverse jollies. If I were wrong, then Adam really *could* divine what people needed, and supply it for them. If that were the case, then, Corey really did need to get raped in order to teach him how to treat others gently. If that were the case, Brad, for some reason, was getting something - learning something - by giving Adam blow jobs. And Matt. What was Matt getting from Adam turning him down? That was mystifying, and lent credence to the idea that I was *not* wrong, *not* misreading. And then, of course, there was his total misreading of me. But wait, said the voice, think it through. What if you are wrong? If I were wrong about myself and Adam was right? Then I was due for some grand revelation about what I wanted out of life. But what would that be - or, rather, what would Adam think that would be? The first time we had an encounter he made me beg to blow him, then refused me. The second time, he made me cum merely by finger-fucking my mouth, and slapping me. In both cases, I was humiliated, used, and abused. Is *that* what Adam thought I wanted? To be treated like chattel? To be made to serve? To be property? A toy? His property? His toy? I watched him work the pommel horse. His hands slapped its leather surface as he moved, swinging in perfectly pointed arcs, from one end of it to the other. I could hear the smacks of his hands on the leather from where I sat, and, despite myself, my dick began to respond. No. That could not possibly be it. I mean, I enjoyed the occasional role-play as much as the next guy, but to suggest that that was what I needed? I was going to have a nice boyfriend and a nice white house in the suburbs with a picket fence that wrapped all the way around and tied in back. It was all settled. Sharon had offered why he had made me beg, why he had made me cum. It was nothing more than chemistry - a chemistry I had, theretofore, neither been able to fight nor protect myself against. But it was nothing more than that. It was not what I wanted, it was, as Brad had said, what he was *making* me think I wanted. It was his hormones in my bloodstream. Nothing more. But the dream. He had said, and Sharon had confirmed, that he could not work at a distance. How then, to explain the dream? And the fact that I was uncomfortably hard as I sat there, watching him at 100 yards match his muscles against the inflexible challenge of the pommel horse? No, Adam could not be right. I was not some mindless SM bottom looking to play with whips and chains. I was in a doctoral program in psychology, for Christ sake! No. And if he were wrong about me, it would stand to reason he was wrong about Matt, about Brad, about everything. Yes, he certainly had skills - there was the obvious chemical one, of course, and his tremendous skill in the gym. But there was more. He was very good at the mind-fuck, which, of course, made sense as he had had so much practice at it. He was very good at using people for his own ends, because he could. I wondered what would happen if I had had the same powers as he. Would it affect me in the same way? Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I remembered the Mule from the Azimov series I had read as a child: the mutant who could turn people's minds. He, too, had said he was bored, and the fact that he fell in love - that he *didn't* turn the mind of his love interest - became his undoing. But Adam couldn't turn his power on and off. I assumed so, at least. The process must have been autonomic. So he affected everyone around him - male, female, old and young - and all the time. Christ, I thought, but he must be lonely. No wonder he was so off the mark. No wonder he was so deluded. He was lonely. He was desperately, and terribly lonely. Feeling more settled, I opened my notebook and returned to transcribing behaviors. Hamstring stretch, abdominal stroke, pose 6, abdominal stroke, verbal exchange� The rat was back in the lab. After dinner, I went to the commons room. I needed to be social, and, more importantly, public for a while. I had to sort out how I could defend myself should he approach again, and didn't want to be alone in my room before I could do that. Corey was on his seat watching the tube, of course. I looked at him again, more closely, looking for clues as to what was within. But he was engrossed in _Home Improvement_, and offered no more information beyond the occasional chuckle. The never-ending poker game continued. From the size of the piles, it looked like Doug was, as ever, losing. Steven was reading. As I had brought my book along with me, I sat down next to him, and found my place in it. After a while, Matt bounced into the room. He came over and sat down next to me. "Hey," he said. "That's Heywood," called Brad, from the poker table. "Fuck off and die," I shot back, good-naturedly. "Well, one outta two, dude," he said, and winked. "So long time no see," Matt said, grinning. He was joking, of course, but Christ! He was right! Was it only yesterday that we had fucked? So much had happened since then. It seemed like eons ago. "Miss me?" I asked? "I did, amigo," he said. "I did, a lot. Dreamt about you, in fact." He was not whispering, but he had lowered his voice, to make the conversation more private. "Really?" I said. "I dreamt last night too." "That's so cool. Simpatico, huh, amigo?" I didn't have the heart, at that point, to point out the error in his logic. "Must be," I said, and smiled at him. He really was beautiful. Those eyelashes should be against the law. He was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and shorts. Even through the loose-fitting, thick material, the round fullness of his form was evident. The hem of the shirt sneaked up as he moved his arms, revealing his diminutive bellybutton and a thin horizontal swatch of smooth sun-browned skin. The room had suddenly gone silent, and Matt's turn to the door caused me to look in that direction as well. Adam stood in the jamb, thumbs hooked in his front belt buckles, looking over who was in the room. His gaze fell in our direction, and his lips pursed slightly. Looking directly at me, he said, "Matt. You're up." Without responding, Matt arose, and headed toward the door. Adam disappeared down the hall, and Matt turned to me. "Later," he said, before turning the corner himself. His look was neither of joy nor fear. It was more like resignation. Seconds later, Dan turned the corner, coming into the commons room. He walked directly up to me, holding a chess set. "Let's play," he said, and moved over to the table in the corner. I was somewhat surprised. Dan had hardly said two words to me the entire week I had been there. He always seemed too busy watching Adam, emulating Adam, studying Adam. I laughed internally. Well, we had that last part in common, at least. And now, out of nowhere, a chess game. What the hell, I thought. I did enjoy a good game of chess - though I doubted he would be much competition - and it was a good opportunity to get to know another of the boys. Particularly good as it was one so close to the source of my research. Besides, I thought. I had some information to share with him. Important information. "Sure," I said, walking over to the table where he was already setting up the pieces. I sat, and chose one of the pawns he presented to me, hidden in his hands. It was black. "So what brings this on?" I asked. "Adam said that he thought we'd like each other. So I figured we could play a game. Meet." "Adam, huh?" "Um hum," he said, moving his knight out as an opening move. "So you're a psych major?" "Yeh," I said, figuring the cat was out of the bag anyway. "Getting a doctorate." "I took a bunch of psych classes. Liked them a lot," he said. "Toyed with becoming a major." "You didn't?" "Nope. Changed my mind." "How come?" "The classes got boring, and too many majors were too fucked up. It was like they were taking the classes in unsuccessful attempts to do self-analysis." "Yeah, true," I said, "I know a lot of people like that. Go into psychology to figure themselves out. They're usually weaned out by the graduate level, though. So what did you switch to?" "Philosophy." "You're a philosophy major?" "Yeah, why?" "Nothing. Just surprised a little." "Oh? Why?" He stopped and looked up at me, scrutinizing my face. "No reason," I said. "Nothing at all." Returning his attention to the game, he took one of my pawns with his bishop. Dan was truly stunning - a fact that I had noticed the first night, and was starkly reminded of sitting opposite him. While he was dark-haired, he had fair skin - an interesting mix of northern and southern European. His eyes were light blue - an almost steely gray, in fact - and larger than normal. His irises were ringed with bands of blue much darker than the field of color they surrounded to create a striking and compelling effect. He exuded strength, grace, and control. His musculature was extraordinarily pronounced - even for the boys - and unlike the rest of the team, he was tall. He was, in fact, the only of the guys who was taller than I was. And his slight southern accent was markedly erotic. "So you enjoying the summer?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "Oh, yes. Very much so. The opportunity to work with Johnston was one of the reasons I transferred to the school in the first place. My routines are really coming along. It was this or the Olympic Training Camp - but I thought this would be better. Smaller, more team-oriented." "How much of a team effort is gymnastics, really? I mean, I always thought it was much more of an individual kind of thing." "More than swimming," he said, "less than soccer. It depends. When we go to the NCAA Championships, the team is everything. You're really competing for your school. But when you go to the Nationals try-outs, it's every man for himself. Still, you definitely want your teammates to make the cut with you. It's so much better working with guys you know and like." "And you like these guys here?" "Sure. A lot. Don't you?" Again, he looked up at me, aiming those blue rings of ice into my mind. Eyes are so important. They tell us so much about a person, and we base a disproportionate amount of our opinions of people on them. Eyes are one of the first things that fix babies' gazes. Eyes tell us when people are lying. Studies have been published determining that in some respects, our species has a universal concept of beauty that is inexorably bound up with the symmetry of the face. All peoples, it seems, rank some aspects of beauty in the same way, from the Yanomamo to the Innuit. All find symmetric, unwavering eyes appealing. I averted my gaze back to the game. I was finding his stare somewhat unsettling in its perfect intensity. "Yes," I finally, said, "most of them are really nice. The ones I've gotten to know, anyway. I've only been here a week." He attacked with a knight, I parried with a pawn. He was a better player than I had expected. "So what are you going to do after gymnastics?" I asked. "I mean, what does one do with a degree in philosophy?" "You sound like my father," he said, smiling. "Fuck, mine too! I could just as easily have chosen soc when I was a sophomore. My dad kept saying, 'what are you going to do with it?' I kept saying, 'not every undergraduate degree has to lead directly to a job, you know.'" "Well, not every undergraduate degree has to lead directly to a job, you know." "Well played," I laughed. "I'm trying to take things as they come. I have an old-style view of college. It's a time to discover what you like, and practice it, not a time necessarily to prepare you for the world beyond." "I couldn't agree more," I said. "So you discovering what you like?" "Oh, I have a pretty good idea," he said, taking my knight with his bishop. Fuck that bishop, I thought! Where did it come from? How is it he's four points ahead already? Time to call out the reserves. My queen came forward. "So Adam thought we'd like each other, huh?" I asked. "That's what he said." "Why?" "Didn't ask. He's usually a pretty good judge of character, though, so if he says he thinks we'd like each other, we'll probably like each other." "You think he's a good judge of character?" "Absolutely. Why, you don't?" He asked. I hedged. "I've only known him for a week. You've known him much longer." "True," he said, "still. He's pretty up front. What you see is what you get." "You like living with him?" "Absolutely. He's a bud. He's helped me a lot." "Really?" I asked. "How? You guys have sex too?" Dan laughed deeply and heartily. "Me and Adam? Sex?" he said. "Hardly." I was confused. I had meant the question somewhat sarcastically - as a pointed jab. Dan hadn't taken it that way. None of the boys, save Matt it seems, caught my sarcasm as it related to Adam's sexual proclivities. Why would that be? "Oh, you don't do guys?" "Naw, that's not it. I have no problem with doing guys. Guys, girls, whatever floats my boat. Just Adam and me aren't�compatible." "What does that mean?" I asked, now truly confused. Dan looked up from the game again. The muscles of his lower jaw flexed, causing a temporary furrow from his temple down to his mandibular joint. "It means that Adam's not what I'm looking for," he said, training his eyes on me again. "Oh? What are you looking for?" "Something quite different," he said, taking my queen without even looking at the board. "You're good!" I exclaimed. "Yes," he said calmly, evenly, authoritatively, "I am." He was still looking directly through the windows of my eyes, and I got the distinct impression that we weren't talking about chess. The conversation continued through the game. Dan was erudite, interesting, and a wickedly good chess player. He was also somewhat annoyingly cocky, a state that I found myself forgiving once he actually beat me at the game. Arrogance is the lording of perceived superiority. If you're *actually* good at something, it's not really arrogance - just an accurate self-image. We sat around after my king was trapped by three of his pawns, and talked about everything from Spinoza to Spanish magic realism. I found myself at ease with him, liking him, being wonderfully and unexpectedly captivated by him, being impressed by him. This was the first time I had ever seen him without Adam present. Maybe that was all it took. "Listen" I said, my thoughts returning to Adam, "I have something I have to tell you." "And what would that be?" he asked. "I think you should move out from Adam's room." Dan laughed. "And why would that be?" "I think he's dangerous." "Please," Dan said, "Adam wouldn't hurt a fly. Besides, I got, like, three inches on him." The ideas shocked me - both the suggestion that Adam wouldn't hurt a fly, and that Dan had considered what would happen if there were a fight between them. More surprisingly, he had determined that he would win. Could anyone actually beat Adam at anything? I wondered. "No," I said, "not a fight. I think being around him is dangerous." "Why?" Dan was smiling, somewhat condescendingly. "You sound like Corey used to. Did he fuck you, too? Is that it?" "No," I said quickly, emphatically, then, more calmly, "no. He hasn't fucked me. I can't really say why. I'm not able to explain. It's just that�well, do you know why I'm here?" "Sure. Adam asked for you." "Do you know why?" "Prolly something to do with his talents. I never asked." "Yes. And I've begun to understand some things - things I can't talk about yet. All I can say is I don't think it's healthy to share a room with him - to be around him so much - in that much physical proximity." "You sound jealous, Mark," he said. He was taking what I was saying lightly, and making fun of me. I didn't know how to continue. I couldn't tell him what Sharon had told me. She had made that perfectly clear - a great deal was at stake. "I'm not jealous," I said, trying to sound as calm and reasonable as I could, despite the deeply insulting implication. "I'm just saying that there could be some�physical side-effects of being around him so much." "I wouldn't care if Adam caused leprosy, Mark," he said, leveling his gaze into my eyes to reinforce his seriousness. It had its effect. His eyes had some powerful effect on me, I had begun to notice. "He's my bud. He's my best friend at this point. He's helped me a lot. If being around him meant that I couldn't compete, I wouldn't compete. You understand what I'm saying?" "Yes," I replied. His voice was so solemn, his face so set, so intense, so compelling, I almost found myself adding, "sir." Matt tripped back into the room, looking relieved if not somewhat haggard. He caught my eye, smiled broadly, and came over to me. "Hey, amigo," he said. "Hey," I said. "Matt, you know Dan? Dan, Matt." "How do you do?" Matt said, extending his hand to Dan, playing along with the joke. "Chahmed, I'm su-ah," replied Dan in his thickest southern accent. For a moment, I expected Dan to take Matt's hand and kiss it chivalrously, but then dismissed the idea. That might have been funny if Matt weren't gay, or a teammate. Matt turned to me, and said, in a voice I'm sure he felt sounded innocent, "you mind if we talk? You got some time?" "Sure. You don't mind?" I asked, turning to Dan. "Not in the least." "I had a really good time. Wonderful conversation, good game - though I'll beat you the next time." "I doubt it," he said, grinning asymmetrically, "I don't lose often." Rising and following Matt out the door, I was again left wondering if we had been talking about chess. As soon as we got into my room, Matt turned and draped his arms over my shoulders, leaning into my body. "So what did Adam have to say," I asked. "Same old same old," came the reply. "We talked about my floor routine." "Did he mention me?" "You? No. Why would he?" "Nothing," I said, "no reason. He's just got me a little freaked. Let's talk about something else." "Okay," Matt said, coming forehead to forehead with me, trusting my answer. "I had a really fun time yesterday," "Me too, pup," I said. "Wanna do it again?" he asked coyly. I brought my arms around his waist and rested my hands on the shelf of his ass. "So that's what you wanted to talk about?" I asked, feigning surprise. "Did you really like it yesterday?" he asked. "Yeah, pup," I said, kissing him lightly on the lips. "It was fun." "I'm glad," he said, "cause I really did too." His lips met mine again, and opened. The sweetness was still there. He was all honey and fluff. His tongue yielded to mine, as I explored the inside of his mouth, tasting his flesh, his teeth, his breath. His hands, encircling my arms, came down to my ass. He pulled me forward, grinding our groins together. His dick was hard and proud, prominent despite the shorts that covered it. We kissed more deeply, and he ground me closer. One of his hands slid down to my thigh, which he pulled up so that my knee rested on his hip. I thought I would lose balance, but how could I? I was in the arms of a boy for whom keeping balance was as natural as breathing was to me. The spread of my legs rotated my hips, and pushed my dick higher than his. His root pressed into my ball sac, and I became aware of the sheer strength in this kid's arms. If he pulled me any closer, I'd be behind him. The hand that had raised my knee now found the flesh of my thigh, and, following it up under the hem of my shorts, began to knead and stroke the flesh of my ass-cheek. I broke the kiss, and, turning his face with my chin, attacked his ear, laving it, chewing lightly on the lobe, fluttering behind it with my tongue, sucking in the air millimeters above it to cool the skin where I had made it wet. He shivered - the correct response - and renewed his manual attack on my ass. I licked his sideburns, or rather, what in five years would be his sideburns. My tongue continued down his jaw-line in upward strokes, licking against the fine grain of his beard. "I really want to fuck you," he said, pulling away. "That could probably be arranged." "Good. I jerked off twice last night thinking about you." He let go of my leg, and led me by the hand into the bedroom. Coming to the bed, he turned and faced me again. I took the hem of his sweatshirt and raised it slowly over his head. He raised his arms, allowing me to strip him. I brought my hands to the satin skin of his chest, riding my fingers over the muscles there like ten miniature roller-coasters. Bringing my lips to his left nipple, I whispered, "I'm a lucky, lucky man," before clamping on to the sensitive, brown circle of bumpy flesh. I dabbed at it with my tongue, beginning my attack by tasting it. It was soap and sugar and gold leaf. His hands began a rhythmic stroking of the muscles on either side of my spine, reaching down to the small of my back before, fingers spread and each applying pressure, he pulled his hands back toward my shoulders, pulling me into him while massaging me. I pointed my tongue, and began a circular sweep around his aureole, trying to attain the roughness of a cat. Blood began to fill his nipple, making it harden as my tongue brushed past it. Finally ready to hit my target, I took the nub between my teeth, and gently chewed on it, applying a shiver to my jaw muscles. It made him jump, but he did not release his grip on me. With my teeth, I pulled his nipple away from his chest, bringing the skin along with it. He could take no more - his hands came to the sides of my head, and he pulled my face up to his. Again, my tongue was in his mouth as he created a vacuum around it, sucking it in, increasing the contact with his lips and cheeks. The undulations of his tongue pulled mine in farther, let it slide back, then pulled it in again. He was fucking his own mouth with my tongue, and it felt sublime. He broke the kiss again, and all but tore my shirt off of me. This time, his hug was skewed - one arm on my torso under mine, the other over my shoulder. I thought this was prelude to another kiss, but was wrong. It was a wrestling move. Gripping me firmly, he twisted my upper body, and we fell onto the bed. We jockeyed for position, rolling, grinding, first me on top, then him. Our legs intertwined, our skin sliding in fiery contact. Buttons were somehow undone, and zippers lowered. Our shorts left us as if they themselves were eager to be free. He was on top of me, now, and his second knee found a space to join his first between legs, forcing them apart. He raised himself to a kneel, and looked down on me. "I like you a lot," he said. "Good thing," I laughed. "It's so much nicer to know the guy who's about to fuck you blind actually likes you." "Do you like me?" "I think you're incredibly beautiful, and you're sweeter than sugar," I said. "I think you're beautiful too," he said, bringing his hands down to lightly stroke my chest. "And smart, and nice, and wonderful, and kind, and�" "Oh, shut up and fuck me, already!" He laughed. He was wearing tighty-whities, and I grabbed his balls through the tight, smooth material. He filled the pouch so wonderfully. His dick pushed out the cloth above my hand, outlining itself starkly in white. He took my briefs and lowered them down off my waist, which I hiked up for him. He then pulled them upward, while, my hips back on the bed, I raised my legs into a V before him. Off went the underwear. He stood, using my heels as support, and piking, lowered his own briefs. He straightened again, standing before me, resting my legs vertically against his, my feet at his hips. "Can you support me?" he asked? "I don't make that much money," I said, and he laughed. "You're a goof," he said, and began to lean forward, pivoting on my heels. "Keep your knees locked." He made sure the connections between heel and hip were secure, then brought his legs up off the bed, swinging to a layed-out horizontal position, flying, as it were, on my outstretched legs. I was supporting his full weight. While small, he was quite dense. Between my legs, his dick hung down fifteen degrees from his torso, its fullness and tensile strength fighting against the gravity. He put his arms out, testing his balance, then slowly spread his legs so that his body, resting on the two points of my heels, took on the shape of an X. His stomach tensed both to help maintain his balance, and the coplaniarity of his body. His abdominals tightened, elongated, and stood out in bas-relief all at once. "Now competing in the Queer-Sexual-Olympics, Matt VanLuyken, of the United States," I called, imitating an amplified, announcer's voice. This made him laugh, which made him lose balance, which made my knees fold. He came tumbling down on top of me in a heap. "You all right?" I asked. He was still laughing. "Better than I can ever remember," he said, and we kissed again. I broke the kiss and reached over to the night table while keeping as much contact with his body as was possible. Retrieving the lube, I threw it on the bed. Getting the picture, Matt returned to a kneeling position, and, in one quick move, hoisted my leg up over his body to his other side so that he was centered between my thighs. "Whoa, there, partner," I warned as he threw my ankle about, "not all of us are so flexible." "That's okay," he said, "I'm enough for the two of us. Gonna show you a little trick." He reached for the lube, and squirted some on his hand. He wet first my hole, entering it a little, and working the slickness into my skin. Then he added a liberal amount to his own dick, making it shiny. He was kneeling back on his heels, and rather than lean forward to aim his dick at my hole, he picked me up by the hips, pulled me down toward him, sliding me along the bed, and aimed my hole at his dick. Slowly and with great attention to my expression, he lowered me down onto himself. His head stretched my hole, and popped through with little resistance. Doug had stretched me out the day before, and I was still loose from his gentle, consuming onslaught. Matt's biceps flexed as he suspended my hips over his dick, slowly lowering me down, filling my chute with the wonderful feel of him. I was now fully impaled, resting on his thighs, enjoying his girth as it touched my favorite places. "That's your trick?" I asked. "Naw," he said, "that's not the trick. This is." In one move, he bent impossibly forward in two, arching his back out in a way that human beings aren't supposed to be able to bend. With one hand, he raised my dick off my abdomen, and, in one swift motion, deep throated me. "Whoa!" I cried, aghast at the sensation, "that *is* some trick!" Lot's of guys had been able to give me a blow job of a sort while they fucked me in this position. No one, in my experience, had been able to fully deep throat me. My heels dug into the bed, and I began to raise and lower my hips, raising myself off of his dick and into his mouth, then falling, full force, from his mouth back onto his dick. Never had so much sensation come from just one guy - usually that kind of attention required a three way. With his hands, he reached up and began playing with my nipples, increasing to three the number of erogenous zones he was manipulating. I threw my head back into the pillow and shut my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me. I assayed to see how far I could lift off his hips without him withdrawing fully from me, which increased the pleasure for both of us as I plunged back down again. He began rising to my thrusts, coming up off his heels as I fell, shortening the time it took to skewer me, but doubling the force of the impact, and thus gaining those precious few extra millimeters of depth. The lube began to heat from the friction, and I could feel the ring of my muscles pull at the skin of his cock. Up and down, up and down, he met me blow for blow. And throughout, he blew. Only someone as skilled as a gymnast could coordinate all the movements he was pulling off at once: the up and down thrusts of his hips in opposition to mine, the tongue and lips working my dick as it rose into and fell from his throat, the coarse skin of his fingers playing my nipples like an instrument. I tried my hardest to open my eyes to watch the action that was playing out on me - the look of his shoulders as they hunched forward over my waist, the glimpses I got during the down thrusts of the concavity of his abdominals, my dick as it disappeared into his mouth, only to reappear, glistening, steely, ready to erupt -- but I could not. Each time I tried, my eyes would glaze over, and my lids flutter shut as the electric feel of his mouth and dick traded primacy in their service of me. I don't know how long it lasted. Not long, I think. Doug's gracious hand job, and the quick and furious fuck I had thrown into Matt were my only releases of the week, other than self-inflicted ones. All too soon I was warning him that I was going to cum. Matt took this news by redoubling his efforts, pushing his dick even harder into my ass, sucking with a renewed vigor, pulling on my nipples until they were sore almost, but not quite to the point of distraction. And I met his abandon with an enthusiasm of my own, grinding myself down onto him, trying to get him to touch that secret place that seemed to be always just out of reach. Our pace grew faster, faster, and faster still. My hamstrings strained at the work of gyrating my hips upon him. And then I felt it begin, almost from my toes. It was after a down thrust, with his dick firmly embedded in my ass that the first wave of the orgasm hit me. It doubled me up into a crunch, bringing my chest to the top of his head where I could hold it down on my dick, keeping the movable part of his tongue away from my sensitive cock head, lodged, as it was, deep in his gullet. My sphincter spasmed as the first overwhelming burst of pleasure coursed through me. That was what Matt needed, and with one final push of his already fully rooted dick, I felt him release into me, the jizm expanding his urethra in pulses as it flowed into my thirsty chute. Again and again. Soon, our spasms were coordinated, like the menstrual cycles of close women. I shivered, causing him to shiver, causing me, again, to shiver. It was a cycle that lasted forever, until, completely spent, I collapsed back onto the bed in sublime relaxation. It was only then that I came to wonder when was the last time that he had breathed. He had clamped down on my own cock when I had started to cum, and had stayed there, taking my seed completely down his throat as I was taking his completely up my ass. He had made no move to extract himself from either place, as greedy for my cum as I was for his. I pulled him off me, and held his face. Ah, the lungs of an athlete. Almost as much of a miracle as his flexibility. We looked into each other's eyes, still panting, still taken with the intensity of the orgasms. But before I could say anything, he began laughing hysterically. "What the hell is so funny?" "I'm sorry," he said, tears beginning to form in his eyes, "I always do this. I can't help it." "It's not the most consoling thing, you know, after sex, for your partner to crack up." After a while, his laughter subsided to giggles. "I'm really sorry," he said. "I know. It's awful. It's just that�" "What?" "Well, it's so stupid, don't you think?" I eased his softening dick out of my ass, and pulled him forward, lowering him onto me. Carelessly and easily stroking the smooth, damp skin on his back as he lay his weight on me, I asked, "what is?" "The whole thing. Sex. I mean, who *designed* it? It's such a stupid thing to do." I pulled his face up again, so that I could look into his eyes. They were innocence incarnate. I kissed his lips tenderly. "Perhaps," I said, "but whoever did, did a pretty good job."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/master-beta-4

Date: Tue, 06 Nov 2001 21:42:56 -0500 From: David Buffet <tightserve@hotmail.com> Subject: Alpha Male: Master Beta 4 Dear Sharon, It was the date that never was. From Dan I get, "do what you have to do," in that inimitable, inscrutable, meaningless way he has of giving emotional direction. I didn't want to be home when I was supposed to go over hottie's apartment, so what do I do? I go out to a campus club to protect myself from sex with an alpha. To make a long story short, I tricked out with a defensive back. But he weren't no alpha, so I don't feel like I was cheating. Isn't that strange? What a world we've created. Actually, he was pretty hot. Six two, dark hair, brown eyes, more beef than a Panhandle stockyard. He came with a girl and spent much of the night dancing with her. Complete jock in the hate-to-love-them mode. Stripped his shirt off as soon as he got out to the dance floor, danced with a beer in his hand, moved like he needed a broom stickectomy. He had a fleur-de-lis of brown hair on his chest (which I later discovered turned out to be delightfully silky). Remember our nights of wild, clubbing abandon? He's the kind of boy we used to sit for hours dishing while we each plotted how we were going to ditch the other and get into his pants. So anyway, he's with the girl, so what's the harm in glancing over in his direction every once in a while, right? Or even outright staring for that matter? I'm afraid by 1:00 or so I had had more than a few beers, as had he. I watched as the drama unfolded. Seems like she was not overly impressed by his courtship displays. Her right boob accidentally got in the way of his palm. Then his face accidentally got in the way of her drink. It was too, too Days of Our Lives. A half hour later, I'm outside leaning against the wall trying to clear my brain in the cool autumn night air. Who should show up but Mr. Defensive Back himself. "Dewd," he says. "'Sup?" Here, Sharon my sweet, is where I would normally go off on an extended tangent regarding our generation's sorrowful penchant for reducing the English language to a level that would leave a four-year-old unchallenged. But fuck, woman. He had his shirt off and it was cold. You do the math. "Me, guy," I said. "All wound up and nowhere to go." "I hear ya, dewd. I thought I was going to get me some." "I saw. Who knew it would be some Chivas in the face?" "As if," he laughed. "Definitely a bottom-shelf chick." I joined him in laughter, liking him despite my firm conviction that he spelled "cool" as "kewl". "Man," I said, "I've definitely had me a few drinks. Having a bit of a bottom-shelf night myself, here." "S'okay," he said. "Bottoms are good when you need 'em." "Pardon?" "Bottom shelves are good when you're in the mood. Or when you can't get anything better." "Yeah," I said, catching the glint in his eye. "That's what I thought you said." It's weird, Sharon. Ever since I met Adam things have been different. It's not like I didn't screw guys who fancied themselves as straight before I met him. Surely I did (and I know - don't call you "Shirley"). But I would always have to pick them up. Remember those guys I used to do in the alley next to the gym way, way back? It was never particularly difficult for me to get a guy to stick his dick in my mouth. I would schmooze him up a little, and bing, bam, boom. But now - it's all backwards. Now they bring it up. It's very strange. I mean, I'm quite certain this guy has never turned down a blow job in his life, but I'm also quite certain he's never volitionally sought one out from a guy before. He actually said as much later after he had plowed me halfway to Spain. So have Adam and Dan bestowed something secret on me? Has my forehead been inscribed with the words "Will Do Straight Boys for Free" in ink only horny jocks can see? Not that I'm complaining, mind you! Just a tad baffled. Anyway, he had me at his place within fifteen minutes, and within five minutes of that had convinced me to go down on him on the couch while he watched a straight porn tape. So despite our myriad differences when it comes to tastes sexual, here is one thing you and I have in common, I have come to realize: neither of us like straight porn to be on while we're doing guys! But his dick was gorgeous. A generous brown bush, a good but still manageable size, a single blue vein to give it character. And as soon as I went down on him I got two of my favorite treats: a) he's a leaker. I know we differ on this one, Sharon, but I do love the taste of precum. It's an amuse bouche - tasty, but doesn't fill you up or spoil your appetite for the main course, and b) his hand went right to the back of my head to direct me. That arrogance is such a fucking turn-on! It's not even that he's saying, "this is how I like it." It's that he's saying, "this is how you're going to do it." No discussion, no analysis, no choices. Here's the thing: when I finally settle down, I *do* want a guy who will share my future with me. But not in bed. In bed, I want no sharing. In bed, there are only demands and acquiescence. That sounds primitive, doesn't it? I no longer care. That, if anything, is what I've learned in the past year. In bed I am as lupine as Dan - though not the leader of the pack. So the guy choked me a little while I tried to concentrate on what I was doing as opposed to the frighteningly insipid computer-generated music accompanying that poor woman's grunting, percussive counterpoint on the video. He stared at the screen and directed me in a rhythm that matched the action on the TV. When the guy came and the scene ended, he let me up for a breath of air. "You actually like doin' this?" he asked. "You like getting it done?" "Shit, yeah!" "Same answer." "Whatever floats your boat, man," he said. "Glad we could help each other out." "Yeah," I said, "and this isn't even my primary talent!" That's how I got him to fuck me. It was still in front of the TV, of course. He bent me over the coffee table and plowed me right there while he watched the tape. But again, I got a treat. The height of the coffee table was wrong, and he kept having difficulty holding his upper body vertical while keeping a good penetrative angle. So despite the fact that he was determined that our interaction was not to include any gestures of endearment whatsoever (did we kiss? I don't think so!) he discovered that the best way to get and stay deep was to collapse on top of me. Sharon, what is the genesis of sexual desire? How can we possibly unravel the mystery? Should we even try? Or should we just come to understand that there is little as erotic as the weight of a man on us and leave it at that? And O! What weight! He pressed into me while he fucked. The ample muscles of his chest bore down on my shoulder blades, the hair on his chest, silky as it was, scraped me from sheer pressure. The coffee table started inching forward under the force of his thrusts and to keep it in place, he took a clump of hair on the back of my head and pulled it toward him as he plunged. It was animalistic. How can I describe it? It was Klingon sex. When he came, he actually growled. I think that's what's so cool about doing nominally straight guys. They lose all abandon in the act. Freed from being required to keep up the pretense that they care about their partner, they become raw, selfish, and demanding. Theirs is pure sexual energy, and for a six like me, it is a drug. All that to save myself from the complications of putting another alpha in my life. What do you think? Have I, after so long, at last achieved skankhood? If so, how delightful for you that after all these years you finally have some company! Love you as always, Mark ---------------------- Heya Matt! I've been remiss in not writing you, but I've been horribly busy setting up the new life here. It's difficult being away, being alone, having to get used to everything all over again. Exciting, of course, but still difficult. I was delighted to receive your letter today. Thanks so much! Yes, there's a thriving gay community here, though from what I've seen it's mostly undergrads. No, I haven't started classes. I'm not taking classes - I'm just working on my dissertation. That's the big research project that you do at the end of a program to get your doctorate. But I've met with my advisor, and I'm well on track. Yes I like the campus and my apartment is fine. It's part of a large complex and I have a nice view of the city, as I'm relatively high up. No, I haven't heard from Shmu yet, but expect that he's doing fine. Shmu always does fine. And yes, I think he misses you. I certainly do! I've thought explicitly of you twice. I was walking down the street and I passed this café where I heard a guy laughing exactly the same way you do after you cum. I gotta say, honey, I popped a boner on the spot. It's a very fond memory I have of you. The second was when I happened across the team here practicing. I watched for a while, and there was a kid goofing on the pommel horse the same way you used to - you know what I mean, don't you? That break dancing thing you used to do on your head at the end of the horse? I've never seen anyone else do that. Do you know anyone here? I didn't catch his name. Did you know Corey is here? He's on the team. What's up with that? No one seems to know the answer to the great Why Did Corey Leave Town mystery. I'm baffled. So with Shmu off in the minors awaiting his call to join The Show, how are you faring? I do hope you're not spending all your time pining alone in your room. You're way to pretty to waste on watching television. You didn't mention any boys in your letter. I expect you would have had there been any. Honey, can I give you some unasked for advice? Go trick out. I know you're a romantic and you know I'm not. But sometimes it's good to just have some fun, even if you're a romantic. The heart doesn't *always* have to be involved in the affairs of the dick. So put on that little black muscle shirt number I bought you last Christmas, get yourself a beer at the Rat and chat up the first guy that looks you over. You'll be ever so glad you did. Listen - I can't believe I'm even asking, but I have to. Is Dan doing anyone? Not that I care, of course. Just curious. For my part, there's a guy I'm trying to avoid. So I slept with another guy instead. I can hear you laughing, but you know how I work. He was pretty good. He liked to press into me. Not just his dick - he pressed everything into me - his hips, his chest, his thighs. I felt, a few times, as if he were trying to ooze into my skin. Do men infect us when they fuck us, Matt? I don't mean virally, I mean spiritually. When they are in us, are they in more of us than just our asses? Christ! Listen to me go on like this, and with *you*! I think I'm getting too analytical again. Or perhaps merely too anal. Part of my problem is that I'm working very hard. I'm coming up with an instrument to measure where people are on the dominance/submission scale. It's a kind of questionnaire that you take while attached to some devices that measure your blood pressure, eye dilation, transdermal response, and a plethismograph. That last thing is a little elastic do-hickey you put around your dick that measures your state of arousal. It's like being connected up to a kind of modified, souped-up lie detector. The questionnaire itself describes a bunch of scenarios and asks how you would react to them. You see, the bright part about it is that it doesn't matter how people answer the questions. I couldn't just write a straightforward questionnaire anyway, since people can be completely out of touch with their innate dominance or submission. I sure was, and if you had asked me a year ago if I was a total sub bottom, I would have laughed. Yet here I am! So I had to create something that measured what people were feeling, rather than what people were thinking, or thinking they were feeling. So their actual answers are not what I'm measuring. Instead, I collect data on how their bodies react to reading the scenarios. Pretty nifty, huh? I should be able to correlate a set of physical responses to the scenarios with different positions on the dominance/submission scale. And it should be an honest response, as they think that what I'll be looking at is their answers, not their autonomic reactions to the questions. Anyway, you know me. All work and no play makes Homer a something, something. So I played a little, and I feel a tad better. The next step, after I run it by our ethics committee, is to test it out on a bunch of people to see if I can calibrate it. When that's done (and I have absolutely *no* idea how long that's going to take - if it's a good instrument, we're talking a few weeks, if it needs tweeking, it could go on and on) I get Adam here, administer it to a bunch of people, then ask him to rank them as well. Then I do the same folk with Dan. I want to see both if Adam and Dan agree in their assessments of where people rank on the scale (as I expect they will), and whether I can predict it as well (as I hope I can). If I can, then the next step is to study the zeros. Sound like a good plan? How are classes going for you? You didn't say. But I'm delighted you're happy with your progress in the gym. I always knew you'd explode on the floor if you just let yourself. You're a really good tumbler. You always have been. You've just been too cautious. I think that's been what's holding you back. But you were getting better all last year. I could see the improvement. Frankly, I think it's because you were getting it regularly from Shmu. When we're happy and stable at home, we're able to take more risks and push the envelope. So there's another reason for you to go and trick out: the more ass you get, the better your routines get. There. I ran rings around you logically. Stay well, honey. I miss you too, and think of you regularly. Write again! Yours is the first letter I've gotten, and I do love getting letters. Somehow, IMs just don't do it for me. Am I being a Luddite? I think I was born at the wrong time. With utmost fondness, Mark

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/master-beta-3

Date: Wed, 17 Oct 2001 18:17:46 -0400 From: David Buffet Subject: Master Beta 3 Dear Adam, I'm in trouble. I met this guy. He reminds me a lot of you. I'd put him at a perfect zero-point-zero on the dominance scale. Now normally, you'd think this would thrill me, no? I mean, after all, I *am* doing a dissertation on methods of control and domination in male interpersonal relations. The problem is that he wants to do it with me. No, that's not the problem. I'm a perfect six-point-zero, as you so aptly discovered and taught me. Of course he wants to do it with me. I'm a natural foil for him. The problem is that I'm trying to fight off his advances. That means I'm right back in the middle of the fog that comes over me when I try to resist an alpha male. The problem is Dan. What the hell do I do, Adam? We both know that when it comes to alpha males, I'm just a boy who cain't say 'no'. And while Dan never said we should be monogamous or anything, I still feel like I have some responsibility to keeping loyal to him. Actually, Adam, come to think of it, Dan and I never quite talked about what status we would have once I left. Isn't that funny? I kept expecting him to bring it up, and he never did. Then, whenever I did, he'd change the subject somehow - usually by fucking me. You know how fast that shuts me up! So what the fuck do I do? In other news, school is going pretty well, and the work for the diss comes along nicely. How's Colorado Springs? How's training with the big boys? I saw you on ESPN the other day. Your floor routine is coming along really well. I know it's your weakest event. You must be putting a lot of work into it. Especially liked your second tumbling pass. Tacking on the double salto and walkover going backwards toward the center of the mat at the end of the combination was really brilliant. You get to show off your strength in an event designed for speed and agility! Corey is here and has latched onto me. I'm getting the impression that he wants something from me, but I don't know what it is. I wonder if he knows, and if he does, if he'd tell me? Do you know? Fuck. Door. ----- Speak of the devil. It's late now. That was Corey. Maybe you can tell me what's going on. Will you indulge me? Can I paint the scene for you? The boy shows up at my door, unannounced, wearing a mesh football half-shirt and shorts. He's definitely turned into a little hottie, by the way. "Hi," he said at the door. "I had this paper due. I was hoping you could proof it for me. You're always writing shit..." I laughed. "That's just it, unfortunately," I said. "Writing shit." He pushed by me into the apartment as if I had invited him in and splayed himself on the couch in a perfectly sexual way. Knees apart, arms wide on the back of the couch, foot up on the coffee table. A complete Come-Fuck-Me pose, you know what I mean? "Why, Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?" I asked. "Huh?" "Never mind. So what's this paper about?" I asked, picking it up from the coffee table where he had dropped it. "Classical and Operant Conditioning. You're taking a psych class?" He nodded. "Cool. So what have you got to say about our dear Mr. Skinner?" I started scanning the text. You know the impression we have that Corey isn't all that bright? Well let's put it this way: it's a good thing he's pretty. Actually, he getting quite pretty. He's put on weight. Some seriously nice curves to him now. And he has the cutest little treasure trail. It's thick and almost white. The hair on the top of his head is getting darker, though his eyebrows have stayed light which gives him a very interesting, open-faced look. And that mesh! Jesus. How can something so tacky look so sexy? Oh, you're laughing, aren't you? Me - Mark - drooling over Corey! Well, a) fuck you. Shut up; b) he really has become hotter; c) I can appreciate his form without wanting to do him; and d) fuck you. Shut up. Anyway, it gets better. "Here you talk about fixed-ratio reward schedules," I said. You should probably mention that this one is best for learning a new behavior. And in the examples you give, here where you talk about your girlfriend, you say...wait, you have a girlfriend?" "Yeah, why?" "Like, an anatomically correct one?" "Sure," he said, dropping his foot to the floor and crossing his arms and legs. Interesting. "Girls fight over me, dude. I'm hot." The old defensiveness had crept back into his voice. "You are, indeed, Corey," I said as palliatively as I could. "And getting hotter every year. You can probably get any girl you wanted." "Thanks," he said guardedly. "I just didn't think you'd want one." "Why not?" I laughed, which was probably the wrong thing to do. "Aren't you gay?" "No," he said way too quickly. "You're not?" "No. I can't be gay." "You *can't* be?" "No. You want to finish the paper?" "No, honey, I want to continue this conversation," I said. He stood up and pretended to look at some books on my shelves. "You can't be gay? What's that supposed to mean?" "I'm going to the Olympics," he said, "so I can't be gay." I laughed again. "Of course you can be gay and be in the Olympics," I said. "Tons of Olympic athletes are gay." "Oh yeah? In judged sports?" he asked. "How many endorsements they get? How many of them go pro when they're done?" "So the world sucks. That's not news. Change it. Be the first." "That ain't me, Mark," he said turning back to look at me. "That's you. I don't do that shit. And I wanna be on the cover of a Wheaties box. So I have to be straight, and I am." "Corey," I said tenderly, suddenly feeling a tremendous amount of compassion for him, "who you are isn't necessarily the same as who you do. That you have a girlfriend doesn't change what your orientation is. The real question isn't what people think about you, or even what you think about yourself. The real question is when you jack off, who do you dream about? Boys or girls?" He stared at me sullenly without answering. "Or maybe just boy?" I added. He returned his attention to the bookcase. "I don't want to talk about this." "Sure you do. That's why you came over." "No, I came over because of my paper." "Corey, my guess is I'm the only person within a couple hundred miles who knows about...your particular past. If you didn't want to talk about it, you'd be avoiding me like a Baptist avoids watery grits. But you're here. You've sought out the only person you *can* talk about it with." "You're the only person I know here." "You mean aside from your girlfriend? And your teammates? Corey, you've turned into a total hunk. You could..." "You think so?" he asked turning back around to face me. I had to laugh, if for nothing else than the insecure incongruity of it. "Yeah, kid. You're a total hunk. But that's my point. You can hang out with anyone you want to. And yet, here you are." "Wasting my time with a total fag," he said after a long pause. Adam, the kid was in torment. It was in his eyes. He had struggled for a while with what he wanted to say, but lost. What came out was, instead, classic Asshole Corey. But there's a human in there. I saw it, if only for a second. I swear it! He snatched his paper off the coffee table and stormed out of the apartment. So there's Corey. I had lost track of him once the summer was over. Do you know what's going on with him? First of all, he seems to think he's going to go to the Olympics. Does he have a chance? Second, he seems to be presenting the illusion that he isn't gay to the world and, worse, to himself. What the hell is with that? I mean, I understand being in the closet - but that's taking it a bit far, don't you think? Did anything happen between the two of you that I should know about? Well, anyway, back to the problem at hand. Dan. I'm not stupid, Adam. I know what you'd do if you were here. You'd sit there for twenty minutes listening to me drone frenetically on and on then slap me and tell me to get a fucking hold of myself. You'd tell me to stop boring the living fuck out of you, and to call Dan and talk to him. Then you'd make me cum in some evil way. I miss you. :) After Corey did his little diva man walking routine I took a couple of hits of JD and did it. I called him. I told him about the alpha and asked him what I should do. He said, "do what you need to do, little man." That's all I could get out of him. Do what you need to do. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Sometimes you boys really, really piss me off. So that's it. The rest of the conversation was wonderful, but made me feel really lonely. I wish the two of you were here. I'm thinking now that I'll be ready for some trials in about a month. How does that fit into your schedule? Looking forward to hearing from you, Mark ------------------------------ Dear Doug-man, Just a quick note to say I was thinking about you today. At dinner I saw a girl eat an entire banana in one bite on a bet. Got her phone number in case you should ever visit. Hope all is well, Mark

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-23

Date: Mon, 05 Mar 2001 21:51:28 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 23 Chapter 23: Passive Aggression His cock was amazing. Long, thick, bursting with power, it grew from its base with strength and girth. Near his balls, it was wide enough that I would probably not be able to encircle it with thumb and forefinger. It extended to just beyond his belly button, curving in a gentle but definite arc so that when he stood, it would point slightly upward. As it was, while its head dented his belly, the central section of the shaft rose almost an inch off his abdomen. As large and solid as it was, the skin on it hung loosely. He was uncut, the entire organ sheathed in a baggy sweater of skin. Its crown could have been the model for an Indian arrowhead. Flared, pink, glistening, it drew the focus of the eye to it like God's finger in the painting of the _Creation of Man_. The effect was immediate. To say I was boned would be like saying the Titanic took on a little water. I was just as sunk. His dick took my entire field of vision. The fog had become solid, as if I was moving through partially set Jell-O. Still, my hands continued their job, despite the lack of help from my brain. I moved above his head and wet his chest with the rag. Looking down on his face in repose, I was struck by an uncharacteristic moment of clarity. He was not perfectly beautiful. There was an asymmetry to his features that would have barred him from a modeling job. Still, he was a picture of perfect and raw sexuality. He hadn't shaved that day, the stubble adding to his roguishness. Yet he had a few freckles across the bridge of his nose that I hadn't noticed before. His eyebrows were strong and forceful, but his cheekbones not particularly pronounced. Relaxed as he was, his thin lips were parted and his tongue was again resting on his lower lip. He was boy and man within the same package, and I realized that while he may have hit puberty at ten, he was, in no sense, finished developing. I was lathering his chest, scrubbing his mighty pectoral muscles in sweeping, circular strokes. Unable to stop myself, I began rubbing his aureoles and nipples with soapy fingers. Even after they were beyond clean, I continued, enjoying their feel as they engorged with blood. His cock twitched in appreciation and he heaved a great sigh. I rinsed his chest and with tremendous care to keep the water out of his face, wet his hair. Placing a dollop of shampoo in my palm, I began to work it into his hair. My fingers learned the bumps and rises of his skull as I used the shampoo as an excuse to give him a luxurious - for both of us - scalp massage. I knew I was doing it right. His toes curled. I rinsed and repeated. Didn't really need to, I thought, but what the hell? How often would I have this opportunity? Might as well follow the directions to a word. His abdomen was next, which required me to treat, at least in a cursory way, his dick. With utmost professionalism, I moved it out of the way with the back of my hand while I lathered beneath it. I would not have been the least bit surprised if it had left an imprint on my skin. It was extraordinarily heavy - the strength of his erection making it fight to return to horizontal. I washed his belly, his abdominals, the trail of longish black hairs that began at his belly button, broadening out to his curly, full pubic bush. With the washcloth, I abraded the skin. I loved having my pubes scratched, and guessed the feeling was somewhat universal. Rinsing the area, I returned his dick to its resting position, and worked down his legs. I paid particular attention to his feet. They must take quite a beating, I thought, so I changed technique when I got there from one primarily of ablution to one primarily of massage. I worked the tiny muscles of the ankle, attacked with brutal force his instep, punched his heel, stretched the ball of his foot and gave each toe its due. Having spent some time on his feet, I returned with eager anticipation to his midsection. Dropping the washcloth into the bucket, I lathered my hands generously and took his heavy, distended ball sac into them. The seat of his power, I thought. The genesis of his effect on me. I was lovingly tender with his great balls, swirling around them with my fingers, playing with the skin and hairs that grew there. A hint of smile appeared on his lips, and his dick began to leak a little - a single pearly drop of precious fluid appearing at its mouth. I played as a child would - discovering their weight, their size, their contour with my manipulations. Satisfied that we were, for the time being, well enough acquainted, I reluctantly rinsed them free of suds. He was clean, now, stem to stern, and the only thing that remained was to raise his centerboard. I ringed its base with my hand, drawing it away from his body. It was a mast and it was making me three sheets to the wind. Dizzy for want of it, I bent down and brought my lips to it. When I made contact, but before I could engulf it, Adam opened his eyes and hooked my chin with his hand, lifting me gently off him. "That'll do, pig," he said warmly, "that'll do." "Huh?" "That was great. Just what I needed. But that'll do for now." "Don't you want to get off?" "I can do that later. Listen," he said, pulling my face close to his, "I'm very happy, and very happy with you. You're doing this for me? Then stop now. You okay with that?" I nodded. He brought his mouth to mine and kissed me briefly. One full sweep of his broad tongue against mine. He let me go and sat up. "You done good, Mark," he said hopping off the table. He stretched - one long, luxurious, leonine curve of body. "Why don't you come to our room later. We'll have a talk." And with that, he left. I have never jacked off more quickly or more explosively in my life as in the three minutes after he had gone. Having wiped down the table and mopped the floor, I set off for my room wondering again what to do about Matt. I couldn't avoid him. That would just hurt him. Nor could I continue to lead him on. If I said something, he would be hurt, and it would be weird for the rest of the summer. If I didn't, he'd figure it out for himself, it would hurt more, and it would be *very* weird for the rest of the summer. Besides, passive aggression wasn't my style. I was more confrontational than that. As I entered the dorm, no answer presented itself to me. Perhaps Mr. Daniels would help, I thought. But it wasn't to be. I passed Brad's door on the way to my room. It was open and he lay, stripped to the waist, on his bed inside. When he saw me pass by, he called out. "Heeeeeywood," I stopped at his doorway and leaned in. "You can't be serious," I said. "It's a thousand degrees." "Heeeeeywooooood," he crooned, smiling. "Can't it wait, Brad? I'm really not in the mood." "I got a woodie that won't quit. Look!" he said. He peeled the front of his shorts down. He wasn't kidding. The blond pole stood proudly erect on his belly. "Give me a break, Bradley. I'm exhausted, wet and really pissy right now." "But it's calling for you, dude. See?" he said. He took the head and positioned a finger on each side of the piss slit. Pulling the two small lips apart to make it look like a tiny mouth, he raised his voice to a falsetto and called, timing the opening and closing of his miniature, southern oral orifice with his words, "suck me. Suck me!" Despite myself, I laughed. "You're too much, Brad." "Coolness," he said, seeing that I was relenting, "you're the best, dude." I walked in the room and closed the door. "I'll jerk you off, okay? Just a quickie." "Okay," squeaked the diminutive mouth at the end of his dick. I took it from him, finding the familiar feel of it in my hand pleasant despite myself. "But if you want to get off, you need to talk," I said. "Okay, dude. No problem. What do ya like? Stroke my hot meat, faggot? That kind of thing?" I turned to speak with the head of his cock. "Look, little dick," I said to it, "tell the big dick up there I'm not joking. If he doesn't treat me right, he's going to be getting to know his own right hand pretty fucking well for the rest of the summer. Got it?" "Got it," Brad squeaked, contritely, but in his dick voice. Ringing his flesh in my hand, I sat down on the bed next to him and started a gentle rhythm. "How long have you and Wendy been going out?" "Coupla years." "You ever cheat on her?" "Not once," he said to the guy who was jerking him off. "Just with guys?" "That doesn't count." "How do you meet them? I mean, when you're not actually provided one by your coach." He laughed. "This is the first time he's ever done this, you know," he said. "Most of us thought it was a pretty cool idea." "I bet," I said. "Glad to know I'm a ground breaker. So how did you use to find guys?" "It's not that hard. I got a bod that gay guys really like." To stress the point, he took one wrist in the other and pulled in isometric opposition. His pecs, biceps and triceps flared in response. "And we can tell who you guys are pretty easy. So when we'd go to away meets, I'd just...I don't know...scope for who was scoping me." "They come up to you, or did you approach them?" I began to thumb the sensitive junction of his glans lightly. "Mostly me. We tend to intimidate gay guys. You're different," he said. "Most guys think we'll beat the crap out of them or something if they ask. Usually the ones that ask are old disgusting guys." "So, what? You just walk up to a guy who's scoping you and say, 'hey, want some of this?'" I added a squeeze of his dick for emphasis. He giggled. "That's pretty much it. You don't have to work that hard with most gay guys. Much easier than girls. You could teach them a thing or two, you know." "Yeah," I said, "but I don't think they're particularly interested in learning how to be more like men." "Too bad," Brad said. "Put tits and a pussy on a guy, and you got the perfect date." I continued to stroke him in silence for a bit, making sure not to let his fever rise. He laid his head back into the pillow and shut his eyes. He was so stunning, I thought. Beach bum surfer dude soccer jock all rolled into one. Of course he had a cavalier attitude about his body. Who wouldn't? How could you be that beautiful and not be intimately aware of it and the effect it had on other people? Still, I found what he was saying distasteful. How many young Matts had been ruined by a boy like him, I wondered? And this Wendy! Either she allowed him his egocentricity because he was so gorgeous - which did not speak particularly well of her - or, as I hoped, she was as stunning as he was and used him as fully as he used her. "So when you would meet a guy, you'd ask him if he were interested..." My inflection indicated I wanted him to continue. "...Yeah. And we'd go somewhere - usually to his place. On the road, we have to share hotel rooms. Sometimes we're four to a room -- and then I let him do me." "You ever do him too?" "Naw. I want to get off, and they're grateful to do it. Kinda like you." I let go of his dick, which flipped back to his abdomen with a thud. "That what you think?" "Shit yeah, dude. Most of them are amazed I'll even talk to 'em, let alone let them blow me. It's a pretty good deal, if you ask me." "You know, Brad, I changed my mind," I said. "I think I *will* give you a blowjob." "Cool, dude!" "My absolute pleasure," I said, bringing my lips to his head. I engulfed him and with the assistance of both hands, started an assault that was bound to bring him off within seconds. "Holy shit!" he cried, surprised at the vigor with which I was pleasuring him. As predicted, before very long at all, I could feel his testicles begin their telltale rise. I was deep throating him when they began, and as they did, I withdrew so that just his head was in my mouth and began sucking it like a vacuum cleaner. With a few well-placed ministrations of my hands, I felt the first squirt of cum hit the back of my tongue. As expected, his hands flew to the back of my head which he held in place while his hips thrust his dick into me in one convulsive spasm. Not before, however, I was able to tighten my jaw just a tad and remove my lips from their protective station over my teeth. As he shoved his dick fully down my throat, the length of it passed over my teeth, which were spread apart a millimeter less than the width of his dick. He howled, half in the ecstasy of the orgasm, half in pain as my enamel scored the skin atop and below his sensitive dick. For a split second, he didn't know what to do - leave it in or take it out. As my tongue swept the abrasion, though, he quickly decided and pulled my head off him faster than you can say, "was it good for you?" Wiping a line of cum from my chin, I looked at him cup his groin in pain. I hadn't drawn blood, but he would have a couple of nasty scrapes that would take a week to heal. "You're right, Brad," I said, cheerily, "that *was* satisfying. Thanks!" I left the room. Okay. So sometimes passive aggression has its place. It had been a long, difficult day, and it still wasn't done. From Brad's room I walked down the hall and stopping just before my door, turned right. Beyond the door now in front of me was something I knew I wanted. Beyond the door was what had lurked just beneath my consciousness all day as I sat, sweated, cleaned, watched, bathed, blew. I had not thought about it. I had not analyzed, I had not reasoned, I had not rationalized the decision I was about to make. Instead, I had let sensation percolate up through my psyche until it had suffused my soul. I did not consider why. I did not understand. Still, there was a part of me that knew, with absolute surety, it was right. Beyond the door was what I needed and beyond the door was what enjoyed my need. I knocked. "Yo," I heard from inside. I opened the door to the Lair, and stood on the threshold. Dan was alone, sitting on his bed and thumbing through a Sports Illustrated. The sweet smell hit me like a wall. It was addictive, I realized. "Can I come in for a sec?" "Sure," he said. "Pull yourself up a piece of mess." He wasn't kidding. The place was a disaster zone. Every piece of clothing they owned was on the floor, tangled up with magazines, playing cards, chess pieces, CDs. I found a path to what I guessed was a chair. Indeed, lifting the underwear, sneakers, jeans and a couple of Hostess Cupcakes (I think) revealed a chair below. I stood with the pile of crap in my hands, looking for some guidance as to where it should be placed. Getting none, I sat down in the chair and simply dumped it next to me. This seemed to be the correct thing to do, as he paid no particular attention to it. "Listen, Dan," I began, "this afternoon didn't go anywhere near the way I wanted it to. I'm really sorry." He shrugged and kept reading his magazine. "No, this is serious. We both know I have the propensity to say the wrong thing when I'm nervous. The truth is, what you said about me is absolutely right." He nodded. "And as for your inclinations," he looked up at me warily, "I don't understand them. I don't understand them at all. I think I point completely to the other side of the compass. I don't think I could ever understand what you were talking about on an intuitive level because it's so foreign to the way I feel." He nodded again, inviting me to continue. "You see, the thing is, well...I'm actually not quite sure how to put this, but...Dan..." "Well?" "This is a bit uncomfortable for me..." He frowned and waited, wordlessly, for me to continue, staring at me over the magazine. I became lost, again, in the blue on blue of his eyes. "The thing is...Dan...that I think I could fall for you in a major kind of way." "Despite my 'inclinations?'" he asked. "Actually..." I stammered, "I think *because* of them." He looked at me for a long time, then smiled. "Well, it's about fucking time," he said. "Pardon?" "It took you long enough. Jesus! I've been waiting for two weeks." "You have?" I asked in stunned naivet�. He nodded. "Wow. Where was I?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Fighting the fog." I laughed. We sat there looking at each other in silence. When the pause began to make me uncomfortable, I asked, "So what now?" "Well, you sure you want to start something?" "No." "You understand what you're getting yourself into?" "No." "Good answers, Mark. So now we just see what happens. In the meantime, no cumming." "Ummm...that's going to be a little problematic," I said. "There's kind of...a situation." "It's not going to be a problem at all," he said with confident authority. "Deal with it." I nodded. I sat there wondering if I should join him on the bed, wondering if I could kiss him, wondering what I was doing there, wondering what my future would hold. He sat there watching me wonder, taking, I think, some delight out of my confused indecision. Before I could bring myself to act or commit more fully to inaction, though, the door open and Adam burst into the room. "Fuck me, I'm hot!" he said, announcing his entrance as clearly as Gabriel. "We have a visitor," Dan said to him. "So I see," replied Adam, walking over to his bed and stripping off his shirt. "It seems our little friend wants to take a walk on the wild side." Adam slowly turned to look at me, fixing his gaze on mine. I felt very small. "Well it's about fucking time!" he said, breaking into a smile. "Now go get a towel. We're going swimming."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-22

Date: Wed, 28 Feb 2001 17:10:24 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 22 Chapter 22: Revelations I couldn't sleep at all. It felt like the atmosphere was pressing down on me. I lay on my bed naked, unable to relax for want of a breath of breeze. When I finally did drift off, it was to a troubled, uncomfortable place. Matt was there, wagging his tail, and I was hitting him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. He didn't understand why, and both of us found it intensely painful. The scene played out over and over in the dream, trapping me emotionally and temporally in the ugly moment. A fault opened up under my feet, and I was falling through clouds. It was frightening, but also an exhilarating feeling. I kept looking down for the ground but it was hidden in the haze. I fell for a long time wondering if I would survive the landing, hoping, despite the enormous heights from which I plummeted, it would be gentle. But there was no landing. I awoke. Stuck to the sheet, I peeled myself out of bed and splashed water on my face. I would not be returning to sleep soon, I knew. Instead, I lay in bed and considered the day. Matt was not just infatuated. Matt was in full-blown obsessive crush mode. Strange that I didn't see it coming. Was I so tickled at the idea of finding a real honest-to-god homo among them that I stopped paying attention? Was it what Adam had said? Hearing him tell me to stay away from the boy was a gilded invitation for me to get involved with him. At least it was given my then current understanding of and relation with Adam. Adam. He could, of course, have foreseen that Matt would develop a crush that would turn serious. He had known Matt for years. If I had been paying attention and had not been distracted by the effluvia of the Alpha Male, I would have seen it too. But how could he have known that it would end badly? For all he knew, I could have fallen back as deeply in love with Matt as he had fallen with me. Of course, I hadn't. Matt was adorable, Matt was fun, Matt was caring, and giving, and energetic and gorgeous, and Hell would freeze over before I would fall in love with him. But how could Adam have known that? Why? I found myself wondering for the umpteenth time. Matt was perfect. How could anyone *not* fall in love with him? And yet my history pointed squarely to the knowledge that I wouldn't. There would be something missing. There was always something missing. It used to be that it took me months in a relationship to realize that whatever it was - that mysterious and newly discovered dark-energy of the universe - was missing from our interactions. I would break it off with lame excuses, not understanding myself why I was doing it. But with hard work and self-examination, I was able to decrease significantly the turn-around time to disaster. After a while I could break it off after a few dates with far less serious consequences. This was lovely, this was fun, but this was not what I was looking for. Sorry. And on those rare occasions when he asked what I *was* looking for? "Something else," was the coy answer - as obscure and noncommunicative to me as it was to him. No, I would not be falling in love with Matt, and this presented an insurmountable problem, as he was clearly in love with me, and we would be spending the next six weeks together. How to treat the situation would require a lot of thought. These things must be done delicately! Delicately! as dear Elvira Gulch put it. Fuck. I was cast, once again, in the role of the Wicked Witch of the West. Shelve that, I thought. I'll deal with it later. Next came Dan. That I did not hate him that night was of utmost significance, though what it meant, I could not say. The pristine mountain environment, meant to clean and clear our minds was serving only to fog mine as I became increasingly, inexplicably emotionally muddy with each passing day. Anyway, I did not feel attacked by Dan. Challenged, yes. Attacked no. What was it he had said to me? Snob? Yeah, well, sure, I was a snob. Most people were boring, and I had little time or emotional energy for them. This didn't bother me at all. This was also one of the major reasons I had chosen research rather than clinical psych as a field. It wouldn't quite do, in the middle of a therapy session, to yawn and say, "okay, now let's talk about something interesting for a change. Me, for example." I was used to my snobbery and wore it almost as a badge of honor. Not pretty, but, as Dan had said, we must be clear both about our strengths and weaknesses. He had said I had been uncomfortable with the boys, but was getting less so. Well, that was certainly true. My expectations had changed when I arrived. I had thought I would be able to observe Adam at a distance, do my chores and interact at best cursorily with the rest. Who knew they'd be so interesting? Who knew they'd be so receptive to a gay among them? Who knew they'd be so horny?! Well, Johnston knew all those things, and had I had the presence of mind to ask him at the interview, I would have too. He played me pretty well, I realized. Got me hooked from the moment he mentioned the Alpha. Read the fine print, Mark. Always read the fine print. Was I losing my edge? Anyway, I was, indeed, nervous when I arrived and have known all my life that while for some, nervousness comes out in laughter, for me it comes out in vocabulary. I am positively sesquipedalian when uncomfortable. So far, he was right on the money, which I knew to the foundation of my being from the moment he said the words. Perhaps that's why I wasn't angry. One can't be angry at the truth, dispassionately presented. Hurt perhaps, but not angry. He called me unhumble. That was interesting. Who was it who had said, "humility is for people of humble talents?" It must have been Wilde. But that's not what he said he meant. He used the word right-sized. I'd have to think about that more later. And there was something else he said. What was it? I racked my brain, but couldn't access it. Only when I was nearly asleep did the words reveal themselves to me. I was uncomfortable begin gay, he said. My entire body tensed pulling me from the verge of sleep to the center of wakefulness. Me? Uncomfortable being gay? I am QueerPowerMan himself! I had known I was gay since the first time I jacked off at 12 and fantasized about my best friend's brother, who had just returned from a stint in the Marines. From that time on, there was no question in my mind as to my own orientation, and within a few years of that, I was completely comfortable with it. I had come out in high school, for Christ's sake! People who were uncomfortable with their orientation don't come out in high school. Where did he get that from? I had written the book on being gay - well, a paper, anyway - but it *was* published. And besides - this from the "whatever floats my boat" boy? If anyone was ambiguous about his orientation, it was Dan. No. On this one, he was dead wrong. That settled, sleep finally came half an hour later - a most welcome, though shy visitor. When I awoke, the room was the same temperature it was when I had gone to sleep. The night had done nothing to cool the air. The new day was bound to be worse than the one before. I took a freezing cold shower, hoping it would hold me for at least an hour. Within ten minutes I was sweating again. I dragged myself over to breakfast, where the boys were in equally plaintive moods. A cup of coffee and a donut later and having finished my chores in the locker room, I took my seat in the stands to watch the boys practice and feel myself swelter. My green notebook sat unopened to my right. A few minutes later, Dan joined me, his uni peeled down to his waist showing off his wet, magnificent torso. "How's the research coming?" he asked. "Not so good. Kind of on hold. I'm kind of involved at this point. That changes things. I can't do what I had originally intended to do." "What was that?" "Impartial, dispassionate observer." Dan laughed. "Around Adam? I don't think so." "Yeah, well live and learn. So I have to set up trials" "Trials? You going to turn us into guinea pigs?" "No," I smiled, "not you guys. When we get back. Test the mechanism by isolating variables. How does he do what he does? Is it visual? Olfactory? Auditory? Some combination? Set up controlled experiments that reduce the vectors of communication to see which ones are most effective. That kind of thing." "Makes sense," he said. "And what's with the sweat?" "How do you know about the sweat?" "How do you think?" "Yeah. Okay. Sorry. Stupid question. I just didn't know Adam talked about it." "We talk about everything." "Really?" "Of course." "Do you talk about me?" "You're the fucking center of the universe, aren't you?!" he laughed. "Fuck you!" I replied, more peeved with the heat than actually hurt by his comment. "Okay, let's talk about you. How's the hand?" "Gettin' better. Another day, I think." He showed me the tear. It was covered, again, with vitamin E. It was still an angry color. I couldn't imagine using it for a month. We sat in silence for a while, watching the boys work out. Eric was having difficulty practicing a release move on the high bar. When he fell for the second time accompanied by an intensely shouted expletive, Johnston walked over to him to take over spotting from Evan. Brad and Doug were resting in front of the fan, taking turns pushing each other out of the wind. Matt was in a planche on the floor, his entire body eighteen inches off the ground laid out horizontally in the air and balancing only on his two hands. What these boys could do! Adam was working the pommel horse. Every muscle in his fully exposed torso strained as he kept himself swinging in perfectly described arcs about the apparatus. While the concentration on his face was intense, his tongue was sticking out a bit, resting on his lower lip, giving him a boyish air. "Dan, can I ask you a question?" "You can ask me three," he said still paying attention to Eric and his renewed, but again failed attempt to complete his release move. "Do you feel different when you're around Adam?" "Different? Like how?" "I don't know. Agitated? Horned? Aggressive? Anything out of the ordinary?" "You mean the fog." "The fog?" "Yeah. That's what Adam calls it. He says some people go into a 'fog' around him. Not everyone, though. I don't." "I do." "I know." "So what's the difference? Why me and not you?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Aren't y'all supposed to figure that out?" "I suppose so," I said, frustrated. "So you don't feel any different? You're around him all the time." "Kind of. Actually, we get really competitive when we're together, just the two of us. Good competitive, though. Not bad competitive. That the kind of thing you mean?" "Could be. Don't know if it's related or not." We went back to watching the boys. Eric was yelling at Johnston. Johnston just stood there, frowning. Doug was preparing for a routine on the parallel bars. He had coated his upper arms with so much rosin he looked a little like the Popin' Fresh Dough Boy. "It must suck to work out in this kind of heat." "More than anything," he answered. "The thing we need most is to be dry. Impossible when the weather is like this." I nodded. "So who else here gets the fog?" "Brad, Matt, Eric, Corey�" he interrupted himself and looked at me. "Why aren't you asking Adam this? It's his business, not mine." "Fair enough. I will. But not you, huh?" "Nope." "Can he make you do things?" "How do you mean?" He was paying more attention to the floor where Eric was continuing his tirade than to me. "I don't know. Has he ever made you do something you wouldn't normally do?" "Adam's never *made* me do anything," he replied, somewhat testily. "Even if he could, which I doubt, we're friends." He turned to look at me. "Anyway," he said, "You're looking at it wrong. Even with the guys in the fog. Adam doesn't *make* them do things. He *allows* them to do things." We looked at each other for a beat. "Next question," he finally said. "Quit asking me about Adam. If you want to know about Adam, ask Adam." "Are you pissed at me for something?" He frowned, pursing his lips. "No," he said, "just pissed off I can't be working out. It's not at you. Sorry. It's not fair of me to take it out on you." "That's okay. So long as I understand what's going on." "Next question," he said, turning back to the floor. "Easy," I said. "Handcuffs and a lap dog?" He chuckled. "Was wondering when you'd bring that up." "What's with that?" He shrugged. "The guys' take on my sexual inclinations." "You into bondage and shit?" "In a way." "What's that supposed to mean? You either like SM or you don't." "I like my own brand of it." "What brand is that? Rubbermaid?" He laughed. "You're too fucking smart for your own good." "No, seriously. What gets you off, Dan? You've always been totally closed about yourself. You read my beads pretty effectively yesterday. How 'bout yours?" His eyes went vacant for a moment while he withdrew within himself, considering what he would say. "Fair enough," he began, when he returned. "Need." "Pardon?" "Need gets me off." "What could you possibly mean by that?" "I'm not trying to be obtuse. It's hard to describe." He thought for a few more moments, then began again. "What gets me off is surrender. Total surrender. The knowledge that my partners have given themselves over to me completely - mind, body, and soul. The knowledge that I can do anything I want with them - that they want me to - that they need me to. There's a look in the eye. It's�permission. That's what gets me off, Mark." As wet as I was, my mouth went entirely dry. Questions flooded my brain and I became somewhat overwhelmed trying to order them into some priority. "So, what?" I asked, finally, "you go to a bar, pick some sweet thing up, bring him or her home, tie them down to the bed, then flog the shit out of them?" "Well, to begin with, the point of it isn't pain, though that's come into it at times. Second, I hardly ever do one-nighters. They don't do it for me. And finally, fuck you. This is why I don't talk about it." "I'm sorry. It's just not what I expected. I don't mean to come off as judgmental." "Wise up, Mark," he said, irked. "You *always* mean to come off as judgmental." We frowned at each other. That wasn't how I wanted this conversation to go, but I didn't know where it went wrong. "Ask your third question," he said. "Okay. A third question�what makes you say I'm uncomfortable being gay? I thought a lot about what you said. I really did. You were right on the money with the rest of it. But that part just doesn't fit." "I didn't say you were uncomfortable being gay." "Yeah, you did. Yesterday, when I asked you to describe me." "No, I said you were uncomfortable with your sexuality. I didn't say anything about your sexual orientation." "My sexuality?" "Yes." I was clearly confused, which he read on my face as we looked at each other. "Look," he said, "when you screw, who's in control?" "I'm pretty versatile," I replied. "You're not paying attention," he said, irritably. "I didn't ask who fucks who. I asked who was in control?" I thought back to the last few times I had had sex. Clearly, with Matt, I was in control whether I was on top or bottom. In fact, I realized, even in the simplest terms of whom was physically on top, it was always I. When I fucked him, I did it from above. When he fucked me, he did it from below. Brad, Doug and Eric? Well, of course I was in control with them, but that was different. Before the camp? Yes. Come to think of it, I was always pretty much in control once the sex started, regardless of the position I played. "Me," I said, after a while. "Okay. You. And you've always felt like something was missing when you had sex, right?" "How did you know that?" I whispered. "You're not the only one who can do research," he said, then added, "so how come you never connected the two?" Connected the two? Connected the two. Connected the fact that I was always in control and the fact that there was always something intangible, unnameable, missing from my encounters? My mind went entirely blank. After an interminable length of time in which we just stared at each other, he said, "hello? You in there?" "Sorry," I said. "I've forgotten what we were talking about." He burst out with the deepest belly laugh it has ever been my discomfort to hear. "You're fucking classic!" he said. The conversation rushed back into my brain like the tide at Fundy. Yes! Yes, of course! In all my years of fucking, I had never - never once - just lost myself in the act. Was that what was missing? Was I looking for but not finding oblivion in sex? Dan saw the renewed comprehension in my eyes, and nodded. "Your three questions are up," he said, "thanks for playing." He got up and walked down to the workout floor. The noise in the gym had risen. Everyone seemed to be yelling at everyone else. Eric had still to complete his move successfully, and was taking his frustration out on anyone who came near him. Brad was still by the fan, despite Johnston's angry exhortations to get to work. Corey just sat on the floor leaning back on his hands, legs splayed out in front of him, the glazed look of exhaustion in his expression. Even Adam was having a difficult time on the horse, having fallen twice. There was no joy in Whoville. Need? Imagine being turned on by need. Not that it would be difficult to need Dan, I thought. In fact, watching him strap himself into the harness of the trampoline - one of the few things he could do that didn't require his hands - I imagined how easy it would be to adore him. He was masculine, he was intelligent, he was charismatic and he was, lord knows, stunningly beautiful. He must be a killer top, I thought. How sweet it would be just to let go, for once. To trust that there would be someone there - someone strong, someone competent, someone powerful - to catch you and bring you to a safe landing. Letting go of the self. Was that it? Was he right? Was that what I was looking for? Had I ever tried that before? And even if he were right, could I do it? Johnston broke the practice half an hour early for lunch. The boys trudged over to the cafeteria like prisoners of war on the Bataan Death March. At the table, few of them spoke. Half way through the meal, Matt looked up from his food and said, to no one in particular, "this is fucking ridiculous." He took his glass, filled it with ice water from the pitcher, got up and walked around the table to behind Doug, upon whose unsuspecting head he dumped the water. Be it from the shock of the spectacle, or the audacity of the move, the boys, to a one, snapped out of their funk and into frenzied action. Water went flying everywhere. Then a few spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. Soon baby carrot missiles met defensive corn chaff while tomato grenades were hurled into enemy territory. By the time peace broke out, they, a 20-foot circle, and I were covered in the sticky detritus of culinary war. "Who's going to clean this shit up?" asked Steven. "Heywood will," Brad answered cheerily. "Oh, fuck you!" But the truth was, I was happy it had happened and happy to do it. I was glad the boys could beat the oppressiveness of the heat, if only for a few minutes, and it gave me an excuse not to have to sit in the stands all afternoon and watch them bitch at each other. Laughing together, they headed toward the showers, leaving me to mop. I certainly took my time cleaning the mess. By the time I returned to the gym, they were snapping at each other again. The bucket of ice I had brought with me did little to cheer them. I took my place in the stands, tried to balance not thinking about what I was going to do about Matt and not thinking about how attracted I had become to Dan since his disclosure and endured the heat and boredom until quitting time. The swelter in the locker room had me moving so slowly that it was late when I finally finished my nightly clean up. The place was deserted and I was about to turn off the lights when I heard a conversation coming from the office opposite the laundry. Adam and Johnston were having some kind of heated debate. The door was ajar, and I crept up to it to overhear. They were talking about me. "You gotta stop it," Johnston was saying, calmly but firmly. "He's a fucking hypocrite." Adam scowled in return. He was angry. He was angry and he was shouting. "Says who?" "Says who? Says me. That's says who." "So he's a hypocrite. So what?" "So it pisses me off." "It's affecting his performance." "He sucks to begin with." "He's solid. He's solid and I need him." "You need him? You got him. But just because you need him doesn't mean I need him. I don't need him, and he pisses me off." "You can't lash out that way," Johnston said. As loud as Adam got, Johnston remained measured. "Why the hell not? Other people get angry? They fight." "You're not other people." "Well, fuck that. Fuck that, and fuck you." "When other people get angry, Adam, they're assholes. When you get angry, you do damage. That's why." "Well, I'm tired of it. I'm fucking exhausted. Do you have any idea how tired I am? Jesus Christ! Everyone's so fucking needy. Why is it always *my* responsibility? Why the hell should I always have to be the one? And don't give me this 'you're special' shit. I'm bored of it. You hear me? Fucking bored." "Adam," Johnston said, his voice quiet and even, "how long have I known you? Ten years? Fourteen years? Remember where you were? Remember what it was like?" He got only silence in response. "Well, I do. I know you didn't ask for it, and I know you don't want it. But it's the way it is. So you're back to your original choice: you can feel sorry for yourself, you can hate yourself, or you can like yourself. You're the one who has to live with you when it's all over. I can tell you what's best for the team, and what's best for the team is for you to lay off him. But more importantly, you know what happens when you give in to it. Think it through, kid," he said with genuine affection. "Think about where it leads." There was silence in the room for a while. Finally, Adam spoke. "It sucks. That's all," he said, his fury broken but not dissipated. "Yeah, kid, it sucks." "And it's not fair." "And it's not fair," Johnston echoed paliatively. "I could be rich, you know." I could hear the anger draining from him with each sentence. Johnston laughed. "Oh? That's a new one. Now you want to be rich?" "Sure. Why not? Alls I have to do is make nice with some rich old bat. I could have all the money I wanted." "You probably could. Would you be any better off?" "Wouldn't have to deal with *your* crap anymore," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Yeah you would. You'd get bored. Nights playing bridge, days doing the maid, I'd give you two months tops before you called and asked me to set up a gym in the conservatory." There was a relaxed silence. Finally, Johnston said, "take a shower, kid. It's too damn hot. We're all edgy." "Yeah. That's it," Adam said, adding after a silence, "and Coach?" "Yeah?" "Thanks." I beat a hasty retreat into the locker room so as not to be found in the act of eavesdropping. When he walked in, I was sitting on one of the benches. "Hey, champ," he said "Hey." He went to his locker, and began messing with his kit. "Adam?" "Yeah?" "If you want me to leave, I'll leave. No problem." He stopped what he was doing and turned to me. "What the fuck are you talking about now?" "If you want me out of here, I'll leave." "What would I want you to leave for?" he asked, a cross between confused and annoyed. "I overheard you talking with Johnston just now. I don't care if he thinks I'm necessary. If you don't want me here, I'll go. I don't want to cause problems." He stared at me for a beat, then broke out into laughter. "We weren't talking about you, champ. I like you here just fine." "You weren't?" I fought, unsuccessfully, I think, to keep the surprise and relief out of my voice. "Nope." "Who were you talking about then?" "Eric." "Eric?" "Eric." I mugged a confused face. He laughed again. "What were you doing listening in, anyway?" "I was doing the laundry. You were yelling," I said by way of apology then added, again, "Eric?" "Yeah. Fucking Eric." He sat down opposite me on the bench in front of his locker, his legs splayed wide. The T-shirt he was wearing clung damply to him, accentuating his power. He began to stroke his abdomen in the absent-minded way he had of drawing everyone in the room's attention to his torso except his own. "You having a bad day?" "I'm okay, champ." "I'd like to do something for you." "So you said." "No, I mean right now. Go into the trainer's room, strip, and get on the table." "And that's for *me*?" he smiled. "Take off your clothes," I said in my best disciplinarian voice, "lie down on the table, and shut up." "Oh, yeah?" He was enjoying the exchange. I could tell. "And what if I don't?" I stood and walked over to him menacingly. "I'll just have to make you, then." The absurdity of the idea made him laugh. He cringed in mock terror and pleaded, "you win, you win. You won't beat me up though, will you?" "Not for asking questions," I said and he laughed again. "Now get into the room. I have some things to get. When I made it into the trainer's room with the gear I had collected, he was lying nude face down on the table. The sight took my breath away, but I was determined, fog or no, to focus on doing what I had intended to do. "Now what's this all about?" he said, without picking his head up to look at me. "A little service with a smile from your friendly neighborhood gofer," I answered. I had gotten a bucket, filled it with cool water and had collected a sponge, washcloth and some soap. I took the washcloth, doused it and brought it to his shoulders. The coolness of it made his shoulder blades draw together in surprise, but he quickly relaxed again as I drew the wet cloth down over his back, rinsed it and repeated the motion. Next, I wet his shoulders, armpits and arms. I rubbed the soap into the washcloth, working up a good lather and began to scrub his back. "Mmmm," he said, "now that's nice." "You don't *always* have to be the one to take care of other people," I said, then added, "just most of the time." He would have laughed, but I had him relaxed. Instead, he just smiled, and sank deeper into the padding of the table. With adoring care, I washed the broad, curvilinear expanse of his back. Walking to one side of the table and standing just below his shoulder, I took his wrist, drew his arm out to the side by it and put it between my elbow and torso, holding his arm out from his body in a way that kept both my hands free. With the washcloth, I scrubbed his deltoid, his bicep, his tricep. Wetting the towel again and working up a good head of foam, I forayed into the deep crevasse of his armpit, cleansing it, massaging it, relaxing it. I laved his forearm scraping the caked rosin off, worked his wrist, kneaded his palm with the soapy rag, pulled on his fingers. Rinsing his arm, I replaced it and walked around to do the other one. I was barefoot, which was good, as soon the soapy water was dripping from the table creating little puddles along its sides. The smell of him mixed with the soap and general musk of the room. I was well within the fog, weak for want of him, but guided by my chosen purpose. His back and arms done, I moved lower to his legs and the tight, white mounds of flesh of his ass. I wet his thighs and calves and feet, lathering and then rinsing them with the same care with which I had treated his arms. His hamstrings seemed never to end, and I found myself wondering what part of what I was doing was massage and what part of it was caress. Despite the energy they were exerting, my fingers were surely on holiday. Having finished his legs, I moved to the end of the table and taking his ankles, lifted his legs off the table and shook them mildly to loosen the muscle groups en masse. When I replaced them on the table, I was sure to do it with them farther apart than where they had started. I moved tentatively back to the middle of the table and drew the washcloth over the high plateau of his cheeks. With his legs more spread, I was able to bring it lovingly down the furrow of his crack. He reacted to this brazen move no differently than he had to the rest of the treatment. He relaxed and breathed deeply, timing his inhalations and exhalations to my strokes. I reapplied the soap to the washcloth, turning the soap within its folds more times than was necessary. With one hand, I separated his cheeks, with the other, I worked the soap into the sensitive skin. He was a little hairy there and the curls of black danced under the ministrations of the towel. I worked down past his hole, taking great care with it to as much of his perineum as I could reach. Satisfied with a job well done, I doused his midsection in water and taking one of the many towels I had brought, patted him dry from neck to toe. "Good?" I asked. "Yeah," he said. "Just what the doctor ordered." "I like being able to take care of you. I don't know why we got off on such a bad foot. You really pissed me off at the start. But you've changed." "I haven't changed in years, champ," he said lazily. "Roll over. Time for the other side." He did. I was unprepared for the sight that greeted me. Adam was hard. Adam was very hard and very big and very hard.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-21

Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2001 07:43:47 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 21 Chapter 21: Heat Prostation The day dragged on in aggravating, oppressive heat. The frolic of the morning session gave way to complaint and peevishness in the afternoon. By the end of the practice there was no humor to be had. The heat had gotten into my bones, and there was no escaping it at the camp. There was not an air conditioner within miles. The idea of eating after all those hours in the gym was unappealing. Instead, I retreated to the empty commons room, filled a glass with ice and waited for it to melt while I watched the news. My quiet time was eventually interrupted as the boys began filing in after dinner. When Corey came in, he walked over to the TV and, without asking, changed the channel to something mindlessly annoying. "Excuse me," I said, "I was watching the news." "Well, now you're watching _Tool Time_," he answered. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" I asked, peevishly. "Shut the fuck up, faggot," he shot back. There was instant silence in the room as all eyes turned to see how I would deal with the challenge. I was on shaky ground. On the one hand, I had been attacked without provocation and I knew that the boys would understand that. On the other, I was not one of them and Corey was. I was there to serve them and make them comfortable. Did that give him the right to treat me like shit? Even Adam had treated me well in his own twisted construct of what constituted good treatment. What did they expect of me? Fight or flight? The answer to that seemed clear. They were straight boys. They expected me to attack back. Still, I had a further problem to weigh. To consider being called a 'faggot' to be fighting words sent the wrong message. I *was* a gay, and I didn't consider it to be an insult. From a political standpoint, it would be like beating someone up for yelling, "you person!" But I was QueerPowerMan, and QueerPowerMan always knew how to respond to such idiocies. "At least," I said, venom dripping, "I don't burst into tears when *I* take it up the ass." There was instant, swirling motion around me, and I honestly can't tell which happened first. Did Corey lunge at me first, or did the boys at the poker table, led by Dan but followed quickly by Doug, rise to intervene first? It must have been the latter, as otherwise how could Dan have gotten to Corey in time? As it was, he caught him just before Corey, who was barreling toward me like a linebacker, made contact. It happened so fast I had no time to react - which increased my stature, as I had not had the presence of mind to flinch. All I know is that a split second after the words were out of my mouth, while I still stood the same ground I had been standing before the exchange, there was tremendous noise in the room and Corey was being dragged away from me by Dan and Doug. Everyone was yelling - Corey that I was a faggot and that he'd kill me, many of the other boys that Corey was an asshole and should shut up. I was completely out of my element. I had been in shouting matches before, but rarely ones that could result in physical violence - especially to me! I was immersed in a group of straight boys, each one of whom could beat the living crap out of me, and yet many of them were defending me - against one of their own. I was in Bizarro World. The shouting and tumult continued until, one by one, voices dropped out in deference to Adam, who had shown up during the fray and was standing in the doorway leaning against the jamb, thumbs hooked characteristically into the loops of his belt. He was looking ornery, and surveyed the action in the room with curious disdain. When there at last was silence, he said, "Eric," turned, and walked out the door without waiting to see if his designee was following him. Reluctantly, the designee did. The tension had somehow been broken. Corey had relaxed and the boys holding him had let him go, though they still blocked any potential charge at me. The immediate crisis averted, I deemed it an opportune time to beat a retreat. I told the boys I was going to try to beat the heat outside, and invited them to join me on the lawn outside the dorm. Matt alone happily accepted. The air on the lawn was as stifling as it was in the commons room. There was not even a hint of breeze, and we lay on our backs under the weighty haze staring at where the stars should be. "Well, that was kind of intense," I said. "Yeah," said Matt, giggling, "but you got him good!" "I think maybe those are the first words he's said to me all summer." "Corey is a shithead," Matt replied. "Yeah, but still. He's *your* shithead." "How do you mean?" "He's one of you. He's a fellow gymnast. I'm just the gofer." "First of all, he's not one of us. He's a kid. He's not on the team. He's just here because Johnston thinks he has potential." "Still - he has more of a claim to be on the inside than I do." "Second of all," he said, ignoring my last statement, "You're not 'just the gofer.' The guys like you. Most of 'em, anyway. They're glad you're here. I sure am." "Actually," I said, I'm glad I'm here too. It's the most interesting summer work I've ever had. That's for sure!" "And finally," he added, interrupting me, "it's just hot. It's getting to all of us. You should have seen dinner. It was ugly." "Really? What happened?" "Eric and Steve got into a fight." "A fight? You mean, like a fist fight?" "Naw. Just yelling." "Wow." "Yeah." Steven? What could piss off Steven? "It sucks out here," I said. "Yeah." "Maybe tomorrow night if the heat hasn't broken, I can take everyone into town to see a movie or something." "Don't think Johnston will allow that. Not 'till Sunday, anyway." We were silent again. After a bit, he said, "Tell me a story." "A story?" "Yeah. I'm bored. Tell me a story. I like listening to your voice." I rolled over onto my side and looked at him. He was lying on his back, his hands cupped under his head. His shirt clung to his damp torso, small rings of wetness ringing his armpits. His shirt had ridden up some revealing the two vertical ridges of his abdominal muscles, clearly visible despite the relaxed concavity of his stomach. I took the bottom hem of his shirt, raised it to his sternum and started absent-mindedly playing with his stomach. "Okay. Once upon a time, there was a little man who decided to take a walk. So he walked up a big hill, and down into the valley on the other side." Making my hand into a little standing man by extending my index and middle fingers, I walked it laterally across the roller coaster of his stomach. "There, he found a pool. So he decided to dive in." My fingers, now near his belly button, 'dove' into its shallow depths. There was a deep resonant thud as my hand made contact after the 'dive'. "Wow. Interesting sound," I said. I took my two fingers and began tapping his abdomen like a tom-tom. The resulting beat rang with a rich, baritone tambour. I had never quite heard such a sound. "Like beating me?" he asked, smiling. "Like beating you off," I replied. He laughed. "Honestly," I said. "That's a cool sound. I don't make that sound. You swallow a drum, or something?" He rolled over and pushed me onto my back, lifting my shirt up to my chest as I had his. He thumped my stomach a couple of times. I played a dull, muffled thud. I did him again. He played an unidentifiable, but definite note. "Interesting," I said. "What do you think it is?" "I got muscles," he said. "Fuck you!" I laughed. "I got muscles." "Well, he replied lightly, "you got the one that matters!" "I wish I were built like you," I said, returning to feeling his abdominal muscles. "You're built just fine." "Not the same, though. You mind if I do a little exploring?" "Be my guest," he said. I began to poke lightly at his muscles, feeling the mass of them, tracing the contours lightly with my index finger. I'd been with a bunch of gym bunnies in my time, but never ones with such compacted power. There seemed to be a difference in the feel of muscles built by repetitious, mindless lifting and those built by honest, full-mobility work. They were glorious. "You're getting me hard," he said. "Yeah?" I let my hand leave its investigations and drew it down over his shorts, lightly outlining his growing shaft. "What have we got here?" I asked. "Mmmm. Wanna fuck?" "Wanna fuck? Wanna fuck?!" I cried in mock indignation. "What kind of cheap date do you think I am?! Wanna fuck? No," I said, "I don't wanna fuck," then added, "I wanna wrastle." Knowing that surprise was my only hope, I sprang on him trying to pin his chest under mine. As his hands were under his head, I was able to gain initial advantage. I brought my hands to the sides of his ribcage, and began applying pressure to points I knew to be sensitive. "Bet the puppy is ticklish," I said. Indeed, he was. His whole body tensed, and he fairly shrieked in surprise and as a result of my poking. Within seconds, his hands were down from under his head, and he had grabbed my wrists. I did my best to keep in contact with him, but there was no hope. He drew my hands away from his sides despite my straining to keep them there, and bucked me off him. We rose to our knees - he to pounce, me to protect myself against it. We were laughing. "Oh, mister," he said, "you're going to pay for that!" "Promises, promises..." I was on his turf now, and he was delighted. In sophisticated repartee, in engrossing dialog, Matt was out of his element. But here, wrestling, using his body physically to match his strength, grace and flexibility against an opponent, he was at home. He dove for my thighs, and before I knew what was happening I was in the air, holding onto his shoulders to keep from falling. He had me in a bear hug just below the waist, his head off to the left of my hip. As he was kneeling and I was facing him with my shoulders well over him, I got the idea that if I could only bend over and reach his ankles, I could pull them out from under him. Then I'd fall on top of him. Match to Mark! I'm a runner, not a wrestler. I have no idea about the physics of Nelsons - full, half, or Ricky. I could not have foretold just how bad an idea that was. Bending over his shoulder had the effect of stabilizing us, and rather than allowing me to grab his ankles, it merely allowed him to stand up. Now I was slung over his shoulder five and a half feet off the ground like some Neanderthal bride who had been hit in the head with a club in preparation for carrying her back to the cave. In a move he must have been learned from countless hours studying the WWF, he howled, and threw me to the ground, landing squarely on top of me. The impact almost took my breath away. I'm not a wrestler, but I am a student of human nature, and I knew Matt's weakness. "Fuck!" I cried, in pain. "Ow, ow, ow, shit." Matt was immediately off me, his face a portrait of concern. "What?!" "Sucker!" I lunged at him again, this time trying to repeat the move he had just done on me. I got him by the waist, and began trying to lift him up. Matt, surprised at first, would have none of it. "Oh, you're in deep shit now!" he laughed as I struggled to move him, to no avail. He reached down over my back, and grabbed my waist from behind as I had his from the front. His abdominals were more powerful than my legs, and in the battle to wrest control, he won. Straightening up, he held me upside-down, my legs in the air bent backward over his shoulders, my head in his lap, facing away from him. We remained there, in that unusual position, while the blood rushed to my head. "Who's the king?" He asked calmly. "You mean the queen?" I taunted. He leaned back, stretching my back in a way it was not supposed to stretch, and lifted his knees a few inches of the ground. He let himself fall back to the ground with a thud, bringing me with him. The resulting jolt made me see stars. "Ooof!" "You give?" "I give head, if that's what you mean!" He bounced again, a little harder this time. "Christ! Stop that!" "You give?" he asked again and began the stretch anew. "Yes, okay. I give. I give!" "Who's the king?" "You're the king!" I laughed. "That's better!" He deposited me safely on the ground where I remained for a few moments on hands and knees until my blood had an opportunity to return to a more normal pressure in my head. "The king wants to fuck," his Royal Highness pronounced. "Then fuck the king shall!" I replied while, drawing myself up, I bowed low with courtly grace. "Cool," he said. "The king is into it." We got up, and I led him into my room. We were drenched in sweat and dirty from rolling in the grass. It was just as hot inside, if not more so. Shirts came off, shorts followed. We stood before each other naked and proud. "Man," I said, "Herb Ritts would make a fortune here." "Who?" "No one," I replied. "Doesn't matter." I stepped forward to him, bringing my lips to his. He yielded immediately, his muscular form softening as my tongue found the inside of his mouth. I embraced him, but we fairly stuck together, given the combination of heat and sweat. I broke the kiss and the embrace. "Wait," I said, "I got an idea. Lie down on the bed. I'll be right back." I ran to the freezer, and returned with a cup full of ice. "Hmmm," he said. "What's that for?" "Trust me," I said, and popped one of the cubes into my mouth. I pushed him back so that he was supine on the bed and held him there while I ran the ice cube around the inside of my mouth with my tongue. When I felt that the cube had melted enough to round its edges and my mouth was sufficiently cold, I brought it down to his crotch. Lifting his perpetually hard dick with my hand and with the cube tucked safely between cheek and gum, I slipped my mouth over its head, careful not to dribble any of the water I had stored up. When my cold lips and tongue came into contact with his dick head, he shivered in delight. "That's different," he said, his hands coming to my head to try to keep control in case it got too intense for him. I bobbed on him a few times, savoring the differential in temperatures between his dick and my mouth. When I felt he was ready for it, I took a full breath, deep-throated him and manipulated the ice cube out of the pouch in my cheek into direct contact with the base of his dick. "Wow!" His body shivered again, more from the sensation than the cold I knew, and he began to gyrate his hips to move the cube around within my mouth. I sucked him off that way for some time, the normal calisthenics of a blowjob complicated by the added manipulations necessary to keep the cube moving where I wanted it. One hand held his dick in place, the other held the cup of ice, cooling my palm and fingers. He responded more and more vigorously to my ministrations. When I felt he was getting close, I took my free, chilled hand, and palmed his balls. He bucked a few times with the shock of the coldness, but it brought him back to the level at which I wanted to keep him. After fifteen or so minutes and four ice cubes, my jaw began to tire. Sweat was pouring from his body, and he had been reduced to a series of incoherent moans of encouragement laced with expletives. I withdrew from him and sat up over his prone, drenched body. "Le roi est mort," I said. "Vive la Reine!" "Huh?" he asked, through heavily lidded eyes. "Nothing, pup. Just babbling. You ready for that fucking now?" "Mmm." I got the lube from the drawer and returned to my position between his legs, raising them up to my shoulders. I squirted a good dollop of goo onto him and rubbed it in. Rather than mounting him at that point, though, I reached for another ice cube. "Brace yourself, pup," I said, "this is going to be a little intense." I brought the cube to just over his crack, and holding it firmly in my palm, let a few drips drop onto his pucker. It twitched in response, first drawing tightly closed, then opening up. Gently, carefully, I brought the ice to his perineum, making sure to keep it moving as I slid it forward and back. His hamstrings tensed in an involuntary effort to close himself off to me, but his knees were held apart by the position of my forearms. I increased the area covered by the ice, drawing it forward and back over his hole. When he was ready for it, I slid the cube directly over his pucker, and slipped it into his chute. He did not have enough time to react before my dick was there as well, stretching him open as it pushed, gently but insistently, past the tight ring of muscle. I popped in and, feeling my dick head hit the cube inside him, shivered myself. Making sure I didn't exceed his ability to accept me, I pressed on, driving the cube deeper into his gut, until I was fully within him. The fuck was intense. The combination of heat and cold worked its magic on both of us. Having needed a few minutes to acclimate to the sensation, he took to it whole-heartedly. At one point, at his insistence, my dick shared the tight space in his tunnel with three cubes. I began to pound him, driving myself into him as deeply as I could manage. He encouraged me to do so in both word and deed. By the end, I was almost becoming afraid that the slapping of my thighs against his ass was so loud it could be heard from the hallway. When we came, our shouts surely could be. Ten minutes later, after his obligatory laughing jag which, this time, devolved into hysteria - a sign I interpreted as success - we lay still on the bed, motionless except for our deep breathing. Finally, I rolled over onto my side and faced him, as I had on the lawn earlier. Without thinking, my hand went to his stomach, where it began lightly drumming to produce that lovely sound again. "Can I ask you a question," I said lazily, still succumbing to the post-orgasmic endorphin rush. "Sure," he said. "Anything." "When you look at me, what do you see?" He turned to look at me. "No," I said. "Don't look. Just shut your eyes and tell me what you see when you think of me." "Okay," he said, shutting his eyes again. "What I see when I look at Mark. You're 5'10", you have medium short brown hair parted on the right. Your face is beautiful because your eyebrows are a different color than your hair - they're lighter, almost blond kind of - and because your eyes are set kind of close together. That makes them look intense. You're eyes are hazel, but they have flecks of yellow and brown and blue in them so they kind of change color depending on what you're wearing. At first I thought you were wearing different color contacts, until I figured it out. Your face is thin and angular, and when you smile, you got the cutest dimples. You've got a long neck. You're sinewy, like a long-distance runner. You got about four chest hairs but pretty smooth other than that, and you got a small mole on your back just above your waist. You got a big dick, and you sure know what to do with it. Your ass is incredible! I think you must do a lot of running or something at home. You got hair on the knuckles of your toes, like a Hobbit. It's so cute! You're really smart, and incredibly interesting, and funny and entertaining and I learn a lot when I'm around you. And you're sweet and nice and giving and kind and honest and smart and..." "Okay, okay." I said. "That's fine. Thanks." He turned to me, kissed me on the lips. "Don't mention it," he said. Looking at him look at me, I realized all at once and with crushing clarity just how horribly serious a mistake I had made.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-33

Date: Wed, 04 Apr 2001 20:47:44 -0400 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 33 Chapter 33: The Brotherhood There was an incident at lunch. The dining room housed a number of large round tables. They sat ten comfortably. We had, since the beginning of the summer, been eating at one table regularly. It was cramped when we were all there at the same time, but not overly so. Lunches were the worst in this respect. While the boys floated in and out of breakfast and dinner depending on their preferred individual schedules, everyone ate lunch at the same time. That day, Corey was the last to arrive. With the addition of Shmu at the table, all the seats were taken. "Move," Corey said, standing behind Shmu. "Die," was Shmu's response. Conversation continued as if the exchange hadn't taken place. Corey continued to stand behind Shmu, tray in hand, and glower at him. "I said 'move'," he repeated when he realized that Shmu was going to continue ignoring him. "Sit at another table, Corey," Steven said testily. "Why the fuck should *I* have to move?" Corey whined angrily. "He's not even on the team." "Neither are you, asshole," Doug said. This was important. I watched in morbid fascination as if it were a train wreck in the making. "He's a guest," said Steven. "Have some manners." Shmu made no move to get up. While I wouldn't have either were I in his position, there was a significant difference between the way he was handling the situation and the way I would have. He remained entirely nonchalant throughout. My smile would have been forced and for effect. His was the same easy smile that was there before Corey had interrupted. I would have been tense as a cat about to pounce. Shmu was as relaxed as a cat in the morning sun. "Get your faggot ass out of that chair," Corey said. I had seen this scene before. There was, again, a moment of perfect silence in which all the players froze - the calm before the storm. There was, again, an explosion of movement. As before, everyone save me knew exactly what the response would be and where they should be to prevent it. Unlike the last time, though, the boys dove to restrain Shmu, not Corey. His arm was already raised to strike when Dan grabbed it. Doug was on Shmu holding him down in his chair with a bear hug. Matt was standing between Corey and Shmu to prevent a possible counter-attack. It was balletic. Everyone was talking over the din of falling silverware, either yelling at Corey or trying to calm Shmu. Shmu had trumped Corey. How could that be? Was there some unwritten rule that said age won over team identification? Granted, Corey wasn't on the team, but still - he did practice with them every day. Or was it the dynamics of the particular people involved? Corey wasn't much liked among the inner circle of the team, and Shmu, of course, was an instant hit wherever he went. Had it been me, would it have come out the same? Well, it had been me earlier in the summer, and the outcome *had* been the same. Or had it? When I was involved in this scene, I had felt that the boys had restrained Corey to protect Corey from making a mistake. Punching damages the hands, and gymnasts need their hands. Now I had the clear sense that the boys were restraining Shmu to protect Shmu. Not from physical harm, or course. It was pretty evident that everyone at the table thought Shmu would flatten Corey. It was to protect Shmu's presence in the camp. If he beat the shit out of Corey, he would be required to leave. There was an uncomfortable stand-off until Drew announced that as he was finished eating anyway, Corey could have his seat at the table. Tensions eased, and people returned to their meals - all save Adam, who had continued eating throughout the exchange. I looked at him. He smirked inscrutably and winked. Shmu went to explore the grounds after lunch and to enjoy a workout of his own. I took my place in the stands with my green notebook. I had recognized another hint of Alphadom that morning and was intently trying to distill it into measurable units. While Dan seemed somewhat less so, Adam was definitely, if subtly, chameleonlike in his nonverbal communication. He matched his signals to the expectations of the person with whom he was interacting. I took notes furiously, transcribing all his and Dan's moves. Still, I was haunted by the nagging suspicion that despite my copious notes, despite my careful attention to detail, all the transcriptions would amount to no more than sheaf after sheaf of useless wallpaper. There was something I was missing. I had catalogued numerous behaviors - each noteworthy and curious in its own way. But combined, they were still not enough to explain the control these boys enforced. The commons room sport of the evening was TPB, or Toilet Paper Ball - a Machavelian game of ambiguous origin that involved throwing a roll of toilet paper around the room into wastebaskets placed in strategic positions. The key to the game was to get the toilet paper to unroll continuously when thrown, so that the room became a maze of criss-crossing, unbroken lines of tissue. "Running bases" was overlaid onto this field - made difficult, of course, as one had to negotiate paths where great care had to be taken not to tear the streamers - as were mechanisms for scoring goals, getting people "out" and, of all things, a penalty box. Penalties were awarded for even the most minor infraction of the endless corpus of obscure rules that included no pointing, no bestial noises and, my personal favorite, no use of the letter "k". It was one of the endless list of reindeer games in which the happy little elves engaged on boring camp evenings to stave off psychosis. While I found this one particularly baffling, Shmu was immediately taken with its meaningless moments of athletic virtuosity, refereed decisions based on the arcana of play and the fact that the stakes were high: this game was for the championship. No less than a claim to be the Best TPB Team in the Universe was at stake that night. Even were I tremendously drunk, I could not have enjoyed watching them more, or wanted to participate less. Evan, it seems, had a knack for play. I could not tell this myself, of course, as having watched no less than four tournaments over the course of three weeks, I still had absolutely no idea how points were accumulated. But he was regularly complimented on his style. Doug was also considered good, which amazed me. Here was a man who had to be reminded which direction left but was who was able to call a penalty on Drew because he threw an underhand pitch, and *everyone knows* that when you throw the pitch underhand the spool of toilet paper was only allowed to unwind *counterclockwise* (unless there were already two players standing in wastebaskets, called a "deuce", in which case the roll could unravel in either direction.) Doug raised his elbow at Drew, assiduously following the no pointing rule. "Penalty on Drew," he called. "That didn't fly in the opposite direction that a watch runs." The word 'counterclockwise' was, of course, verboten as it contained a 'k'. I can imagine this, as well as many of their other games, being born of long nights of alcohol induced haze. Hell, I myself had created the random game or two on the occasional undergraduate night wasted wasted. Watching them laugh and play and move and argue over rules reminded me of my own clique of undergraduate friends, except that with us, it was more whether or not 'oe', a whirlwind off the Faeroe Islands, should be capitalized and therefore be ineligible to use in Scrabble. I still say it was valid! The game was almost over. Only 100 feet or so of tissue paper remained on the roll. All three trash cans were filled with players, which signified something important, though for the life of me I could not figure out what. The boys were excited as Brad came to "home trash" for his turn. Amidst the banter of the game, Adam appeared in the threshold and leaned, thumbs hooked in pockets. When his mere presence caught everyone's attention and they quieted down, he said "Corey," turned and left. Corey turned white. The rest of the boys' reactions varied from amusement to indifference to disappointment to relief. Reluctantly, but without a word, Corey got out of the wastepaper basket and left the room, turning right to follow Adam. This caused a problem. "We need another player," Evan protested. "Heywood, get in the trash can." Brad said. "Who?" This from Shmu. Doug's elbow immediately went up in Shmu's direction. "Bestial noise:" he said, "owl." "There's no way I'm getting in that wastebasket." "Unauthorized use of eleventh letter," Doug called, his elbow swinging around to point at me. "He's not playing yet," Evan complained to Doug. "You can't site a non-combatant." "Combatant?" I asked, amused. "Get in the can," Brad repeated. "Help us out, Bud. We can't play with four people. We're winning!" The truth of it was that I didn't belong in that game. It was not my place to play. How can I describe why? For all my envy at the bond they had, for all my wishes to be one of them, I recognized that I was not and could never be. Not because they would not accept me - they would, I had come to believe. But because it was not the role I wanted or needed to play with them. Shmu could come to the camp and instantly belong. Regardless of how long I stayed with them, I would always be on the outside - despite my strong connections to many of them individually. There were things about their interactions which, despite my best research, despite my most intense observation, I would never understand. While I ran with the wolves, I was not a member of the pack. But how could I express this without offending them? I could not say, "I'm not one of you," since their hospitality toward me had been prodigious, and from their perspective I belonged in the camp, even if not on the team. I could not say, "it is not my place," since from their perspective, it *was* my place to help them out when they needed. What I had invested to be a laden symbolic rite of membership was simply a game to them. I could not say "I don't understand how you interact." Their answer would have been, "doi. Just interact." With few other avenues left open to me, I retreated behind the fastidiousness with which I had already become identified anyway. "I'll do your laundry," I said, "I'll mop your floors, I'll go on gofer runs for you, I'll clean your squirt off the fucking rug, but I tell you, honey, I am *not* standing in a trash can." The room erupted. Appeals were made to my sense of duty, to my sense of fair play, to my sense of honor. My favorite was Doug's. "But it's for the championship of the entire universe!" he said, dumbfounded that this would not sway me. Finally, and to my undying relief, Dan offered a solution. "I'll sit out the rest of the game," he said. "I'm satisfied with the galactic title, anyway." He hopped off the round table where he had been playing the position of "high fielder" and negotiated his way through the weave of toilet paper strands. "Let's take a walk," he said. "Okay." I followed him, both sad and grateful to be out of the room. When outside in the cool night air, I thanked him. "For what?" he said. "Getting me out of that. You came to my rescue." He shrugged his shoulders. "Do you know why I wouldn't play?" I asked. "Something ridiculous, I bet." I smiled. "Do you want to know why?" "No need," he said. "Everyone's allowed to be ridiculous twice." I laughed. "Rule of the game?" "My rule," he said. I put my hand in his and we walked on in silence through the darkness. "How's your ass?" he asked after a while. "It's okay," I said. "Kinda tingles. I know we played, that's for fucking sure. Just a little tender when I sit down." "Do you like it when I do that kind of stuff to you?" he asked. The question caught me entirely off guard. I stopped and turned to face him. We had come to the edge of one of the fields. A distant light cast a dim, oblique glow on one side of his face, leaving the other entirely in shadow. "That's a really difficult question for me to answer," I said. "I don't like the pain. I mean," I added, interrupting myself, wanting to get just the right words, "I don't like pain. And sometimes you freak me out a little." He turned us and we started walking again as I continued to explain. "But I'm learning that there's a lot about what we do that I really like. I mean, I *really* like it." "Like what?" "This is all so new to me, Dan, it's really hard for me to say. When I'm with you...before you, I'd always felt like something was missing. I don't feel that with you." We walked on a while as I tried to gather my thoughts. It was a new sensation for me. Usually I figured out what I thought by speaking. Doing it the other way around was a curious approach to life. "You bring me to places I never even knew existed. I'm scared by some of them. And excited. I think I realized last night, that there's a key to it all. It's fills in the hole that had always been there." "What's that?" Dan asked. "Surrender." He let go of my hand and put his arm around my waist. I rested mine on his shoulder. We walked on. "A long time ago, you said that it was 'need' that got you off. Is that kind of what you were talking about?" "Yeah," said Dan. "That's about it." "So can I ask the same question?" "What question?" "Do you like it when you do that kind of stuff to me?" He squeezed my waist. "Yeah," he said. "I like it." "Is it the pain for you? I mean, inflicting it?" "No," he said, "not exactly." "What then?" He tried to find the words with the same care as I had. "I like to see you squirm. I think it's hot. I like to see you squirm from what I'm doing to you. Being able to do it to you - make you squirm - gets me off. Because you let me. You surrender to it. Doesn't have to be from pain, though." "What's hot about it?" "I don't know," he said. "You're the expert." I laughed. "Not in this shit, I'm not," I said. "Then we don't know," he said, satisfied to leave it at that. We were in the middle of the field by now, walking slowly and aimlessly. "How did you know?" I asked. "How did I know what?" "How did you know you liked it?" "How did you know you were gay?" he asked in return. "When I started jerking off, I only fantasized about men," I said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Okay," I said. "Point taken. So when you fantasize, is it about men or women?" "You still into this gay/straight thing?" he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Yeah," I said in seriousness. "I have to be, I think. I mean, we worked our asses off to make the world a safer place to be. At least, parts of it. So, yeah. It's important to me that people who are gay can be gay." "So what if it worked?" "What do you mean?" "What if all y'all made a world where it didn't matter if people were gay or straight? Right? Isn't that the point? If everyone is treated equally, does it still matter if I was gay or straight then?" "We're not there yet." "Hypothetically." "Hypothetically?" "Yeah. Hypothetically." "No, *hypothetically*, if we really *were* all equal and everyone was treated with the same respect, then no. It wouldn't matter. But we're not there yet. Not by a long shot." "Don't you change the world one person at a time? Isn't that one of all y'all's slogans?" "Yeah, but..." "So we'll change the world startin' right here. It won't matter whether I'm gay or straight." "But it still matters to me," I said. "Why?" "Because if you leave me for a woman, I'll be really pissed." "But not if I leave you for a guy?" "It doesn't have to make sense, Dan. It's the way I feel." "So why can't I not care about whether I'm with a guy or a girl?" "Because it doesn't make sense!" He stopped walking, turned and smiled at me. I laughed. "You know," I said, "very few people can trap me that way." "Surrender, Dorothy," he said. "Oh," I said, laughing even harder, "that does it. You're *definitely* queer." We made our way back to the dorm. It felt so good just to be with him like that. I had grown since my last relationship. Somehow, I didn't have to persuade Dan that I was right. It didn't matter so much that we saw things differently or that we disagreed. If effort was to be put in, in the future, it would be in trying to understand, not to convince. We strolled down the hall past the commons room. The game had broken up. Some of the boys remained, others had turned in. "So ho long's Shmu staying?" Dan asked. "Why? You want me to stay in my own room tonight?" "Nope," he said, "just..." but he never got to the end of his sentence. We had turned right at the end of the hall, and Dan had opened the door for me. There on the bed on the right was Adam, shorts drawn down to his knees. And under him, sobbing, impaled, was Corey.

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Date: Thu, 03 Jan 2002 18:52:52 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male: Master Beta 5 Sharon dear, What an autumn! Is it already Christmas? How could I not have written you for so long? I've been busy. No, that's too easy to say. I've been overwhelmed. That's more like it. I seem to have found myself in the middle of some alchemical experiment in which I've been cast, unwittingly, as the catalyst. At this point, I don't know where to turn. I'm writing hoping that you'll be able to lead me out of the morass. No - again, too easy. I'm writing hoping that the act of writing will crystallize thought. I'm writing hoping that *I'll* be able to lead myself out of the morass. I don't even know where to begin. Shall I start at the very beginning? It's a very good place to start, or so I've heard tell. It began in the gym. Don't my stories always begin in the gym? I had just finished a workout and decided to drop by the gymnastics team practice. The team here is top notch. They're a joy to watch and not merely for prurient reasons. Their artistry as tumblers is extraordinary. The coach is really good at putting together routines on floor, vault, and p-bars. Anyway, there's this one kid I wanted to see. He had caught my eye the first time I went. A little powerhouse, it turns out. I've never seen such height in tumbling runs on the floor. And when he rebounds off the vault, I'm afraid he's going to bump his heels on the rafters. But that's not why I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to talk to him because of this move he did on the pommel horse. It was very curious. Reminded me of someone. So I go to the practice and sit in the stands. There he was on the still rings, lowering himself into a cross. Lordy, Sharon, the power these boys have! At least he wasn't making it look effortless. He's a red head, this one - bright, daring hair - and you know red heads' complexions. He looked like a roasted Jesus on poppers. He brought the cross down to an L-sit in hang, then did a back kip before casting off into a felge upwards with straight arms to a handstand in the rings. Poetry, despite the sputters and labored breathing. The routine was clearly relatively new to him. He hadn't gained the smooth control the boys show to the public in competition. With a giant swing to handstand followed by a backwards swing, he rotated into a piked, forward salto dismount with a half turn out. Alas, he lost sight of the floor until, over rotating, he was kissing it. A few words with his coach were exchanged and he headed for a jug of water on the side of the gym. Seeing my chance, I hopped out of my seat and sauntered over. "Hey," I said. "Hey," he replied between gulps. "Nice routine. You just start putting it together?" Hardly paying attention to me he nodded, still drinking. His heart was pounding from the exertion. His rib cage expanded and contracted with his quick, deep breaths. "Interesting combination. Reminds me of a Ukranian. What the hell was his name...Svet-something?" He lowered the cup slowly and eyed me curiously, seeing me for the first time. I eyed him back. "Svetlichniy," he said. "I'm emulating his style. Who the hell are you?" "Oh, no one," I said, "just passing through after a work out and thought I'd drop in." "You a gymnast?" he asked. "Do I *look* like a gymnast?" I replied, smiling. He smiled back. "So how do you know about Svetlichniy?" "Doesn't everybody?" This got a full laugh and his full attention. "You go to school here?" he asked, beginning to unwrap his grips. His color was beginning to return to normal save for a lingering, healthy roseate glow to the cheeks. He had an appealing look, close up. Square jawed and Scottish. "Yeah. Grad school." "Masters in PE?" "No, not quite. But you're not the first to think that, actually. You'd be surprised by what I've been mistaken for. I constantly am." "Like what?" "Oh, a doctor, a gymnast, a masseur, an anatomist. My friend Carey is convinced I'm a fiction writer...pretty much everything except what I actually am." "People project a lot on you, huh?" "Pardon?" "They project - they see in you what they want to see..." "I know what projection means," I said, interrupting him. "I...I just wasn't expecting you to say that. Sorry." "No worries." "You've been in Australia." He grinned. "Yeah. I was there last summer. How did you know?" "'No worries.' It's an Aussie thing," I said. "And linguist? Do people mistake you for a linguist?" I laughed. "All the time. For example, I can do amazing philological tricks." "Like what?" "Like this: say the word 'boat'." "Boat," he said, smiling. "Now say the word, 'sword'." "Sword." The smile broadened. "Okay. You're from Iowa." The smile vanished. "That's amazing!" he said. "You think that's good? Say, 'ointment'." "Ointment." This time he repeated the word self-consciously. "Now 'marzipan'." "Marzipan." "From outside Des Moines. Northwest, I think." "You're fucking joking!" He was aghast. "That's incredible!" "Say, 'quibble'." "Quibble." He was listening intently to himself now, with grave seriousness, trying to hear what I was hearing. "Say, 'squeegee'." "Squeegee." "You went to Boone Senior High School." His jaw fell and his pupils went small. "How...what did...how did you..." I laughed at his shock. "I'm a friend of Matt VanLuyken," I said. "I saw you doing the break-dance thing on your head on the pommel horse the other day. He told me he made that up in high school." He burst into laughter. "You asshole!" "Yeah," I said laughing with him, "that would be me." "Richie," he said holding out his hand, "Richie Hausmann." I took his chalky paw in mine. "Mark. Nice to meet you." "So how is Mattie? I haven't seen him in a while." "He's great. Going to give you a run for the money on floor, I think." "Yeah? He always sucked on floor. Even before he fucked his ankle." "Not anymore. He's been..." "You come to see me do my new high bar routine?" It was Corey interrupting. Having spotted me, he had come over assuming, in his solipsistic way, that I was there to see him and was only passing time with Richie until he was free. "Actually, I..." "It's hot, isn't it?" he continued without waiting for a response. "I know I keep doing form breaks on the giants, but fuck, man. I'm going to look so good when I get it down. Hey Richie." Richie nodded at him. Corey put an arm around my shoulders - an alarmingly confusing move given our last exchange - and began leading me away from Richie. "Umm...I guess I'm talking to Corey now," I said over my shoulder. Richie laughed. "Nice to meet you, amigo," he said. "You as well." And with that and a tug, my attention was turned forcibly to my little ash-haired, ashhole friend.. "So what did you think about the routine?" Corey asked, his arm still around my shoulders. "It's good, isn't it? I mean I know it has to be smoother and all that shit, but it's good, right?" I laughed. "I didn't see it, Corey." "Oh." He sounded truly disappointed. Having steered us over to the stands he released me. The warmth of his bicep had made the back of my neck begin to sweat, and the sudden cold resulting from its removal sent a shiver down my spine. We sat next to each other and surveyed the floor. "Do you know the guys on the team?" he asked, mostly, I think, because he was afraid of being silent with me. "That's Richie you were talking to. He's pretty good. And that's Ric over there on the tramp. Kinda strong on the vault and floor, but I got him hands down on the rings and pommel horse. And that's TJ. He placed top ten last year in Nationals, but he's not so hot. And that's Shayne on the p-bars. Thinks he's god, but he ain't. That's..." I interrupted him. Turning to face him, I frowned. "So we're best buds again, eh, Corey?" "Sure. Why not?" "Well, kiddo, the last time we were together, you called me a faggot and stormed out of the room." "So?" "So?!?" "You *are* a fag," he said with such na�ve innocence that I could no longer sustain the frown. I burst into laughter. "Indeed I am, Corey, my dear. But that's not the point!" "What's the point? I was angry. I yelled at you. Then I wasn't angry anymore. What's the big deal?" "A marvelous impersonation of mental health you got going there, kid." I looked at him for a quiet beat. He just didn't get it. I let it pass. "So how're classes going for you?" "They're hard," he said frowning. "They suck. They're not supposed to be hard. This is supposed to be the best time of my life." "That would be a pretty sucky life, don't you think? Peak at 20, then downhill for the next 60 years?" "They're all talk. Talk, talk, talk. It's like being with you!" I laughed. "You're not the first to say that." "Let's not talk. Let's do something." "Do something?" I asked. "You want to do something?" "Yeah," he continued, oblivious even to himself. "Take me shopping. I don't know shit about clothes. You always look good." "You want me to take you clothes shopping?" "Yeah." I blinked at him. "Oh fuck, Mark," he said rolling his eyes. "Don't go all pussy on me. Just say you'll do it, okay? Say you'll do it and leave it at that." "Okay, Corey," I said. "I'll take you clothes shopping." He beamed. "Great!" he said, rising to his feet to head back to the floor. "We'll go this weekend!" And with that, he bounded off back to practice. I watched the team practice for a few more minutes before leaving. Corey was spotting a teammate on the high bar. The boy landed with uncertainty and Corey grabbed hold to steady him as a good spotter should. Muscles pressed to muscles, hands gripped curves. But there was more to it than just spotting. The embrace was a hair too sustained, a coiffeur too complete. Satisfied I wasn't nuts, I arose and wended my way home. In the elevator on the way up to my apartment, I ran into the third thread in the weft that has warped my past few months. The Bam Bam. He was leaning, arms akimbo, against the back of the car as I entered. He nodded slightly in recognition. I watched his face. He was quietly sucking his own teeth and his cheeks undulated absently as his tongue moved behind his closed lips. The stubble on his chin was, at once, fair and rough. His full eyebrows caught the light in prismatic splendor. His eyes were fixed on the lights above the door, paying me no attention at all. "Sorry I couldn't come over the other day," I said falteringly. He lowered his gaze to me. "Hmmm?" He said, pulled from his own thoughts. "Oh, that's okay. No biggie. Maybe some other time." Now, Sharon, here's the thing. As foggy as I was the first time we had met, I was completely clear-headed in the elevator. There wasn't a hint of it. It's as if all the considerable power he had demonstrated the first time we met had simply evaporated. Sure, he was still hot, but he did not have the smell of the alpha about him. Is that not tremendously curious? So there, within the space of twenty minutes, I had interacted with each of them: the three boys who would cause me such tumult over the next three months. Richie, Corey, and Bam Bam. Come have lunch with me, and I'll tell you what happened next.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-20

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 16:49:37 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male -- Chapter 20 Chapter 20: Ripped It poured that night. One of those midnight thunder and lightning storms that wakes you and has you running to the window when you realize the lack of delay between the sound and light. The boys were in the halls, buzzing with the electricity of the storm. One of them had the bright idea of running outside to enjoy the deluge. This is how nature keeps the stupid from reproducing I pointed out, but I was merely the voice of reason. Fun was to be had. They flooded out of the dormitory as the raindrops, big as grapes, pounded the earth. I stood under the small portico at the door and watched them. Except for Eric who wore his pajamas, they were in their underwear. Quickly soaked, the briefs and boxers became transparent, shining with the treasures hidden beneath. Abercrombie and Fitch had nothing on these boys. Fresh, toned muscles dripped under the sheets of water. In the fury of the storm, they went wild. Wrestling matches broke out until Brad had the idea of pantsing Doug. The favor was quickly returned and soon Brad's pale white ass was brightening the dark night. Eric was brought into the fray then Dan, who with a brilliant feint, was able to avoid Doug's attempt to rip his boxers off, catching hold of Steve's instead and pushing them to his ankles. As I watched from the shelter of the portico, Adam joined me. He had been in the bathroom when the stampede began. Now he surveyed the pandemonium before us - boys running around all reaching for each others' underwear as the heavens themselves opened upon them. "They're nuts," I said. "They sure are," he replied, placing his arm casually over my shoulder. It was a gesture I least expected. He was treating me like one of the guys. It was glorious. The storm raged, the boys were manic, and Adam, in his underwear, reeking of himself in the heavy, wet air, was taking a quiet moment with me. "What gets you off, Adam?" I asked, possessed with a sudden urge to know him - to *really* know him -- to be his friend. "You're always talking about giving guys what they need. Who gives you what *you* need? What *do* you need?" "That's some story," he said, winking at me. "No, I'm serious," I said, taking his wrist in my hand and pulling on it slightly, increasing the weight of his arm on my neck. "If I wanted to do something for you, what would that be?" "If I have to tell you, champ, then it's�" "No," I said, cutting him off. "No jokes. No mystery. No twists. Just tell me. I want to know." He looked deeply in my eyes and found only sincerity there. "You're doing it, champ," he said. "You're getting there." Another bolt of lightning stopped the action in the rain as the boys reacted to the sudden, blinding light as if frozen on film. The ear-splitting crash half a second later rose a primal, howling scream from Dan. Our moment was shattered. From under the portico, Adam joined him, letting out a hoot of such force and intensity that it rivaled the thunder itself. He ran out from the safety of the portico and was immediately among them, standing next to Dan, the two of them screaming at the top of their lungs. In no time, the ten boys were all howling like a pack of wolves. Evan found a mud patch, and the boys took turns running at it as they did the vault, seeing how far they could ski the slime. Within minutes, the torrent had passed, and the boys, to a man, were sopping, filthy and drunk with the exertion of physical energy. It made me strangely sad to watch them. Despite Doug's friendliness, despite Brad's easygoing inclusion, despite Matt's crush, despite Adam's newfound warmth toward me, I was not and could never be one of them. Why did that make me sad? What did this cohort share that I found so appealing? Was discovering the answer to that question - the yearning for what they had, the thirst for understanding it - what had informed my many decisions to study male-male interactive patterns? Had Dan been right after all? Was I just another of those unbalanced bozos who went into psychology only to figure themselves out? I didn't like severe weather. It spooked me. When I awoke, I was uncomfortably moist. The front had brought a mass of hot, humid air behind it. By the time I finished toweling off after my shower, I was wet again. It was going to be a difficult day. In the gym, the boys all had their unis peeled down to their waists. By mid morning, the air was stifling - the fan Johnston had me put in the door notwithstanding. My duties were increased. I was to keep the boys in both water and ice. By ten, I had made three trips to the cafeteria to retrieve buckets of ice cubes that the boys were as apt to throw at each other or drop down each other's shorts as they were to suck on or rub on themselves. On one trip back from getting water, I entered the gym to find a commotion near the parallel bars. Johnston was huddled closely with Dan, who seemed to be in some pain. I ran over to see what had happened as the coach turned him toward the locker room and began walking him out. "What's happened?" I asked. "I ripped," Dan said, cradling his right hand in his left. They walked past me, and were about to leave the gym when Adam ran over to the two of them. He spoke quietly with Johnston for a moment. Johnston turned, looked at me, turned back to Adam, nodded, then motioned me over. "Take Dan to the trainer's room and help him out," he said. "Okay. Sure." Johnston returned to the gym while Dan disappeared through the door to the lockers. I followed him into the trainer's room. He hopped up on the table and presented his hand. A gymnast's hand is a remarkable thing. To begin with, they're unusually large - flattened and widened, I suppose, by all those years of supporting so much weight. They are, as well, callused beyond belief. Where one would expect a pad just below the junction between the third knuckle and the palm, for example, the gymnast instead has a mountain of hard, weathered skin, creating topographical contours so pronounced they rival the Himalayas themselves. The combination of the constant rubbing against the apparati, the leather grips they used and the rosin that constantly coated their hands in an effort to keep them dry worked to deaden, dehydrate and finally crack the skin of their hands. Each gymnast had his own routine for trying to deal with this problem: some swore that washing dishes without gloves helped. Others filed the calluses down regularly with a stone. But every gymnast eventually had to deal with a callus that ripped off by itself. Such was the hand which Dan presented to me. The callus over the first knuckle of his thumb had torn off along three of its edges, and was hanging awkwardly by the fourth. Underneath showed a layer of angry purple. "Excuse me," I said, "but ewww." He laughed. "It happens all the time. It's the humidity this time. The rosin is caking." "Does it hurt?" "Of course," he said, though not showing any signs of pain. "What do I do?" "Get a scissors from the drawer over there and cut it off." I found them and took his hand in mine. I hesitated. "I say again, ewww. Are you sure you want me to do this?" "Yes. I'd do it, but I'm a righty. It's okay." "Really?!" I said, "and here your major minipulator is out of action! What will you do?" Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps the proximity to his most hot, semi-naked form. Perhaps my curiosity was just getting the best of me. Whatever it was, I couldn't help but steer the conversation toward his sexuality. He laughed. "That's not my 'major manipulator'." "Oh? You do it with your left hand?" "You know what the most erotic organ is, Mark?" "Yes, yes," I said, "the brain. Blah, blah, blah. I've given too many blow jobs to really believe that." "Then you're missing a lot," he said, looking into my eyes with his magic blue circles. "Now let's get to the matter at hand." "As it were," I added, speaking directly to his eyes. "�as it were," his eyes said back. He turned to look at his hand, which was a good thing, as if he hadn't, I would have been content to be wrapped in the blue forever. I joined him in examining it. As gently as I could, I lifted the flap of dead skin enough to be able to position one blade of the scissors underneath it. Dan didn't even wince as I manipulated the callus in a way that I knew must have been excruciatingly painful. Instead, he just watched with morbid curiosity. Were our positions reversed, the only reason I would not be insisting on a screen to block the sight of the procedure from me would have been the copious number of Percocets I would have already consumed. Positioning the tool as closely as I could to where the lump of dead skin clung to his living flesh, I began to cut. The sharpness of the scissors surprised me and I was able to complete the separation in one fluid motion. The chunk of skin fell to the floor. "Oh," Dan said, "don't lose that." "You want the used parts? What - don't you trust my work?" "It's a thing we have," he said smiling. "We compare them." I retrieved the callus from the floor and handed it to him. He inspected it, turning it over and measuring it with his eyes. "Boys the world around compare dick size. You compare your calluses? You guys are truly bizarre," I said. He laughed again. "I only like sports where the possibility of competition exists." "Oh!" I said, fanning my face and falling into my best camp voice, "goodness gracious, my good sir! Do be careful. You tread dangerous grounds!" "Have ah offended your delicate e-ahs, Miss Mark?" he asked, laying on his southern accent as thickly as he could. "Not at all, sir! Just that you shouldn't wake the kitten unless you're prepared to feed it!" We laughed together, a delightful, shared moment. "What's next? A bandage?" "Nope. Have to let it breathe. There should be some vitamin E in one of the drawers. Get it for me." I found the dispenser, opened it and handed it to him. He doused the circle of raw purple skin with the vitamin E. "Doesn't that hurt?" I asked. "Like a son-of-a-bitch," he replied, but again evenly, without a trace of indication that what he was saying was true. "What now?" "That's it. Just have to let it heal." "So it's back to the work-out?" "Nope," he said, cocking his head to one side in an effort to stretch his neck. "I'm out for the day at least." "Pull a muscle?" "Yeah. When my hand ripped I fell off the horse." "Let me see if I can do anything about that. Here," I said, motioning what I wanted, "turn sideways." He swung his legs around to the side of the table. I walked to the other side and stood behind him. It only took a few moments to find the offending muscle - his right levator scapula. "How's this?" I asked, digging into the muscle, working to lengthen and stretch it. "You got it," he said. "That's the one. Good job." I went to the cabinets and took out some oil, lathering my hands and one of my elbows. "Lie down on your stomach," I instructed. He complied, leaving his broad, buff, unblemished back laid out before me. His muscles had muscles. But it was not grotesque, like some over-zealous body builders. He was classically proportioned. Were he Greek and an ancient, he would have been celebrated both in song and marble. As it was, he was mine to adore. I leaned in with my elbow and made strong contact with the tight muscle. "This might hurt a bit," I said, curious to see if I could make him wince. I couldn't. Dan responded to the pressure on points I knew to be sensitive with, at most, a concentrated relaxation and a deeper breathing regime. "Does that hurt?" I asked, looking for - what? Some kind of victory? "Yes," he said. A slight bit self-satisfied, I stopped and asked, "should I ease up?" "No," he said. "The way you're doing it is fine." So much for my victory. I returned to my ministrations, determined to loosen the muscle. His skin slid smoothly beneath my left elbow and right hand as I alternated strokes. One would think that the fatter someone is, the looser his skin. Instead, the reverse is true. It is those men who are most fit - who have the lowest percentage of body fat - whose skin slides effortlessly around over their muscles. Dan's skin, pale but turned light gold from the sun, traveled wherever I wanted it to go. Its elasticity was remarkable. I massaged him in silence for a while, until I was confident that the muscle was beginning to relax. Rather than stopping, I broadened the field of my work, including his shoulders, shoulder blades and neck as subjects of my attention. Truly, it was no imposition. Merely feeling the weight and density of the muscles under my touch had gotten me semi-hard. "Dan, can I ask a question?" I said to the back of his head. "Of course." Hmmm. That was Adam's generic response to my questions. "Could you describe me?" "Of course." "No," I said, beginning to work his left deltoid in opposing motions with the knuckles of my two fists, "I mean, *would* you describe me? Now. Would you give me a description of myself?" "And you call *us* bizarre�" I laughed. "It's an exercise my advisor taught me. Kind of a reality check. Do you mind?" "No," he said, "sure." He was silent for a moment, then said, "you used to be nervous around us, but you're getting more comfortable. You hide behind big words and ideas you didn't invent as a defense when you're feeling insecure. You think you're comfortable with your sexuality, but you're not. You are very unhumble and you're a snob." My hands had frozen, and I stood there, looking down at his gorgeous torso unable to speak for a moment, so complete was the sting of his words. Finally, having no idea what else to do, I laughed. "Jesus Christ, Dan," I said, "don't beat around the bush or anything." He shrugged the shoulders I still was holding. "You asked." I took a step back from him. "I kind of thought we were friends, Dan," I said. The hurt was beginning to become apparent in my voice. He propped himself up on his elbows, and looked me in the eyes. I was, as I had been before, immediately entranced by the Olympian rings of blue. "We *are* friends, Mark. I like you a lot. Listen," he continued, "if I didn't, I would have lied. You understand me?" I found myself nodding. "But how can you like what you just described? I mean, the guy you described is a total shit." "You're a challenge," he said, and grinned. "Pardon?" He rolled over, and lay back down on the table. "Do my front," he said. Without thinking, merely because he had told me to, I took the step back to the end of the table. My waist was now above his head. He lay before me, eyes closed in repose. I reapplied more oil to my hands, and started to massage the front faces of his trapezius muscles. I worked without speaking and, more importantly, without thinking. My hands did what they knew how to do, my mind entirely blank. "Unhumble?" I asked at last, not knowing where else to hook onto what he had said. "Humility is accurate self-appraisal. Understanding yourself to be neither better nor worse than you actually are. You fail at both, my friend." "I do?" "Yes. Think about it tonight, when you're alone. You'll see what I mean." I massaged more in silence. I had gotten to his pectorals, which I circled with broad, sweeping strokes, ringing his small, brown nipples. On one of the down-strokes, when, to reach his ribcage, I had to bend at the waist and bring my face closer to his body, he took hold of my wrists and held me immobile. I looked down into his face, which though close, was upside down from my perspective. His eyes were open and waiting to make contact with mine. When that contact occurred, he let go of my wrists. He didn't need to hold them anymore. His eyes alone held me as motionless as his hands had. "Your feelings hurt?" he asked. I nodded. "Your feelings hurt because you like me?" I nodded again, this time more cautiously. "You know what I said was true, don't you?" A third nod, this one was slow, almost painful. "You trust me?" A fourth, much more readily offered. "I like you too. You understand?" I just stared at him, wanting more than anything to kiss him, but knowing, somehow, it was not appropriate to do so. "You hard?" he asked. "Pardon?" He reached over his head, and groped at my shorts. Lo and behold, I was, indeed, hard. He tested the strength of my erection, then let go. "Good," he said and, sitting up, hopped off the table.

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-boss

Date: Tue, 23 Apr 2002 23:39:50 +0100 (BST) From: hugh masters Subject: The Boss "The Boss" is a story by Hugh Mili8 exploring the nature of authority. (See also the novel-length story "Humiliator" by the same author.) Not for the faint hearted or those who like their sex stories to be romantic and "nice"! Contact me on Questorius@yahoo.com and tell me how much you liked it - or hated it! ************************************************************* "THE BOSS" I sent off my Work Plan for the following week on Friday morning as required and when I checked my emails that night I found a message from Roger Knight the new Sales Manager. He announced his intention to make a field visit with me next Tues/Wed and would I pick him up at Dublin Airport from the 09.20 flight, returning him there for the 18.00 flight to Belfast on Wed. evening. I smiled to myself reflecting that he had been in the job for nearly six months and would have met all the UK salesmen in the first couple of months and only now was he getting round to an Irish field visit. Well that was par for the course, the English always tended to treat Ireland as an after thought. Not that I minded, it meant that Ireland was effectively my own fiefdom with minimum interference from Head Office and that suited me fine. I liked being my own boss. I flicked back through previous copies of the Company mag to find a photo of Roger when he took up the job. I wanted to be sure and recognise him at the airport. It wouldn't do to miss him, after all he was my boss! He looked a pleasant enough man as far as you could tell in the photo. But his visit was a bloody nuisance all the same because my work plan required me to make my regular monthly call on Wexford on the Wed. morning and then I'd have to haul all the way back to Dublin for the 6pm flight instead of going on to Waterford. Typical of the English not to realise the distances involved. They never seemed to realise just how big Ireland is. Worse still, I'd have to find him accommodation in Wexford on Tuesday night and how the hell was I to do that with the International Opera Festival in full spate with every thing booked up for miles around. I could hardly expect the Big Boss from England to stay in Mrs O' Flaherty's rooming house where I always stayed, even if she had a spare room. I phoned the two best hotels, both were fully booked. I phoned some scruffy ones. Same story. In desperation I called Mrs O'F. "Oh sure, Finn, I like to help you if I could, youse know that, but I'm booked solid too." she hollered. She suggested I might share my room but I didn't think that a good idea. I explained my problem: your Man himself arriving from England, need to make an impression etc. The marvellous Mrs O'F shrieked "Now Finn, isn't it like a son you are to me? And wouldn't I help you if I could? I tell you what I'll do, I'll put him up in the attic in Major Flynn's room, for isn't it Drogheda he's gone to for three days for his auntie's funeral God rest her soul." I thanked her warmly but sent an email to Roger at H. O. explaining the problem and asking if he'd prefer to cancel? Of course he didn't get it till Monday morning and sent a reply "All arrangements stand. Mrs. O' Flaherty's place sounds a lot more fun than a Holiday Inn!" I warmed to the man for that. I met him as planned at the airport, no problems, and made several calls in Dublin with him before heading south for a couple more in Wicklow and then on to Wexford where we arrived at 6pm. Roger seemed a very pleasant fellow, easy to get on with for an Englishman and with no attempt to come the heavy handed boss. It was October and already getting dark and Roger was impressed by all the festoons of lights in the streets for the Festival. We drove to Mrs. F's and she and Roger got on famously from the word go. She snatched his bag from my hand and swept him off up the stairs to his room, chattering like a starling. I called out to him that I'd come up to him at 7.30 and we go out for a drink and then dinner in a great little sea food retaurant I knew. I had a leisurely shower and shave, changed, watched the TV news and, at exactly 7.30, tapped on Roger's door. No answer. I knocked again, more loudly. After a moment he opened the door. He was wearing only his slacks and his shirt, hanging loose and open. I could not help but note the handsome body under the open shirt, smooth and brown, not hairy like mine. He was rather flustered and apologetic, explaining as he took me in to his room that he had lain on the bed to read a report and had dozed off. "Just give me a moment for a quick wash and I'll be with you" he said, slipping his shirt off. I assured him there was no rush and to take his time. (I was happy to observe his very attractive body!) I noted he had an odd, free-standing shower cubicle alongside the huge, old-fashioned wardrobe. It stood like an improbable, white enamelled time machine in the gloomy spaces of the large attic room. "Have a shower" I urged him. "There's really no rush as long as we get to the restuarant before the opera mob turns out" He agreed it would be nice to freshen up and pointed to the Brownlea Report he'd been reading and suggested I might like to read it while waiting. "Sit on the bed" he said. He fished out his toilet gear from his bag, turning a truly splendid back on me, then casually dropped his slacks and slipped off his boxer shorts with "locker room" unselfconciousness and stepped into the shower capsule. It had a frosted glass door but a light in the ceiling, so there, in this large gloomy room was this surreal, bright, shower unit with a half-seen naked man within. Hugely erotic! I started fantasising about mounting him and entering him and taking a long, slow, leisurely fuck on that handsome body. Inevitably I got a terriffic hard on. Hey, steady on, I warned myself. I'd spent the whole day with this man without any hint that he might be gay. And dammit, he was my boss and misplaying this situation could seriously damage my career! But oh God, that fine male body moving in the steamy confines of the shower pod, half seen but FULLY imagined! My cock had its own priority, independant of any sensible warnings. I heard the water turned off and he threw open the door. "Throw me that towel, will you?" he said and there he was, magnificently naked, spotlit in the cubicle, the droplets of water spakling like diamonds on the brown skin of his shoulders and bright rivulets of water snaking over his chest and belly. And his rather surprisingly small cock - surely that was bigger? Still unimpressive, but had the sensuality of the shower stirred the beginnings of an erection? He started towelling himself with a vigorous lack of self-awareness, but then (perhaps he had noted my rampant hard-on?) I became aware of a subtle change. He was displaying himself to me! The sexy bastard! Rubbing the inside of his thigh, his leg splayed out provocatively, towelling his back, chest thrust out, stomach taut. I gave up any pretence of not noticing him and blatantly ogled the display. I gaped my thighs and stroked my crotch, settling my rod along my thigh and blatantly holding the fabric of my trousers taut across it, outlining its bulk with my fingers. Well, I might not be able to match his fine physique but the Good Lord had been kind to me and my cock trumped his by several inches. No doubt about it, my cock ruled in this roost! He stopped any pretence of towelling and just stood there in his nakedness, gazing openly at my swollen member. Slowly his gaze rose up to meet mine and our eyes locked. The atmosphere fizzed with erotic tension and challenge. I snapped my fingers and pointed sharply to the floor between my feet. For an agonisingly long split scond he stood irresolute and then slowly knelt before me in his nakedness. Unhurriedly I reached out and slipped my hand behind his neck to gently pull him down and scrub his face into my trousered crotch. He snuffled and nuzzled and breathed my man-smell eagerly. Rubbing his face against my rod he gently gnawed through the fabric at it with his teeth. I leaned back on the bed, supporting myself with my arms. "Get it out" I ordered. With something like reverence he unzipped me and scooped out my cock and my balls, but instead of immediately sucking my shaft as I expected, he lay his cheek on my thigh and gazed at my manhood at point blank range with open admiration. He stroked the tips of his fingers up and down its length very lightly and began to lick my testicles in what seemed to be an act of homage! Then the tip of his tongue made the same slow journey up my shaft as if he were climbing up it. A bead of bright fuck-juice sat atop my bared helm and he scooped this up with his tongue with devoted care. Having expected the sort of robust and enthusiastic cock-sucking I was used to, I found this slow rite of shameless worship to be powerfully erotic. Finally he moistened his lips and slid them down to engulf my meat while his fingers softly massaged my balls. A powerful rage of fuck lust swept over me and I longed to fuck his mouth and shoot my load down his throat there and then but I forced mself to exercise self control because I wanted the even greater pleasure of mounting him and fucking his body. I got to my feet and stood over him, my legs splayed, and let him continue sucking me for a bit because I wanted him to remember how he had knelt in his nakedness at the feet of a dominant male - and a still fully clothed dominant male, at that - degrading himself as my submissive cocksucker. I could see our reflection in the door of the shower cabinet and it was a picture I liked. So, who's boss now? I mused. Again I fought off my desire to shoot my load into his mouth and instead pulled out, remembering my hot fantasy of fucking him as I watched him in the shower. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked him roughly to his feet and fairly threw him across the width of the bed, his feet still on the floor. I wanted him to feel he had been crudely used. He looked so exciting with his fine male body sprawled and vulnerable, awaiting my pleasure. I kicked his ankles apart to open him up for me, spat on my fingers, wiped them on his ring and without ceremony I covered him and entered him and took him. Nothing fancy, just a quick, brutal rodgering and within a minute I was shooting wads of spunk deep into his body. And Oh God it was GOOD! Safe sex? Forget it. There just wasn't time. And anyway, I wanted to ride him bareback and to lodge my semen deep in his body as a sort of marker that he was mine, like a top dog marking a lampost. After a moment I jerked my cock out violently to make him grunt, heaved myself off him and went to the wash basin to clean up, using his face flannel for the purpose and making sure he saw what I was doing. He rolled onto his back and started beating his meat in a rather desultry way. "Stop that" I snapped. "I'll tell you when you can cum. Now get dressed. We're going to eat". He dragged himself to his feet, looking exhausted and defeated. He went to his bag and pulled out a clean pair of boxers. "Put those down" I told him, "you are not allowed any underwear. I want to keep you feeling randy till we get back." He glowered at me and for a moment I thought he might challenge my authority, but he sullenly dropped the shorts and pulled on his slacks. He took a clean shirt off its hanger in the wardrobe and slipped his arms in but before he could button it, and remembering that sullen, rebellious look, I decided to spell out our roles in definitive terms. I took his left nipple in a fierce grip that made him suck his teeth, but he made no attempt to pull away. I slowly pulled him up onto his toes. He had no option, where his nipple went he had to follow. I held him teetering there for a few seconds before letting him down onto his feet. He breathed a sigh of relief thinking that was it, but I continued dragging downwards. He bent at the waist but still I pulled down, twisting his tit as I did so, til he dropped to his knees. I was still not satisfied but pulled down further til his cheek was on my shoe and held him there. "Nine to five you are the boss. Outside those hours, I am". I snapped. And do you know what he said? "Yes Sir" he said! Yes SIR, and I knew I had him. And oh, but there is much satisfaction to be had from the power to make a man grovel at your feet with just a pinch of thumb and forefinger, especially when he is three inches taller and 20 pounds heavier than you. When he is supposedly the boss, that satisfaction is sweeter still, but when it is an ENGLISH boss down there with his face on your boot and whimpering in your grip, then for an Irishman that is a power-rush like no other! I let go of his tit and told him to get up. As he did so, I saw he had a hard-on poking at his trousers, trying to get out. Here was a man turned on by humiliation - and bejaysus wasn't I the very man to give him what he needed? I had booked a table at Donan's Sea Food Bar, a place I'd only been to once before as it was too expensive for my expense sheet, but what the hell, he was paying. But before going to the table I took a seat in the little bar area, tossed a fiver to Roger and told him to get me a pint of stout and something for himself. Well, my expenses would cover that OK! Of course, being English, he didn't know about the long, slow ritual of drawing a pint in Ireland, the putting of the first draw aside to allow the glass to settle for several minutes and in a place like this they spun the performance out to demonstrate they did things "properly". He had ordered a pint of lager for himself which the barman drew off straight away and set on the bar, almost scornfully it seemed. I could see Roger was embarrassed to have his drink but not mine and he shuffled awkwardly while waiting til my glass had its second fill and the head carefully sliced off with the spatula with surgical precision. He brought both glasses to the table and set them down, but remained standing. I nodded to the chair beside mine, giving him permission to sit. Oh, but this man played the servile role with dedication and I liked that. "You don't care for a drop o' the black Guinness then?" I probed. He said it was too bitter for his taste. I nodded understandingly and commented that sure, it was a man's drink. I swear he flinched at the implied insult as he sipped his thin, pale lager. In due course we were led to our table and over dinner we enjoyed a relaxed conversation talking "shop". He started telling me about the strategic aims of the Dutch group that had taken us over six months back - the group that had brought him in as Sales Manager - and here was the voice of Management again, quiet and confidant, bringing a member of staff, out on the fringes of the operation, up to speed. It was a very pleasant, relaxed meal and I found him more and more likeable - and more and more attractive. It was time for a sharp jerk on the lead to remind him of our true after-hours relationship, so as the waiter set down the coffee cups I leaned back and casually asked "How's your crotch Roger?" He blushed! Actually blushed and cast a quick glance at the waiter who, of course, showed professional unawareness of anything amiss. As he withdrew I leaned across and in more discreet tone cruelly demanded an answer. He muttered it was OK. "NO damp patch showing? No leakage?" I probed. He shook his head, still clearly embarrassed. I considerately explained that I feared that without undershorts he might be feeling concious of his cock, concious of his nakedness? Randy, even?" He shook his head miserably but confessed he felt damp "round the rear". "Oh , that'll be semen leak" I informed him blithely. He glared at me with real venom. "You are a bastard" he snarled. "Yes" I agreed, "aren't you lucky?" I told him to pay the bill as it was time to get to a bar pretty smartish before the opera lovers turned out and decended on the town. We went down to the dockside to one of my favourite bars. There were two chaps on fiddles, an accordion and a bodhran player thundering out his accompaniment on a huge instrument, the stick fairly flying over the stretched vellum - a great, stomping gig in full swing. Again I sent poor Roger to the bar with some money and we were only just in time before the opera lovers started pouring in in their full evening dress, the men in compusory black tie and the women in all their glittering finery, German, American, Italian, English, happily mixing with the locals and fishermen in their jeans and knitted jerseys. That is the magic of this little fishing port that the international Beautiful People mingle shoulder to shoulder with the boyos, all enjoying the same music after the high culture up at the Theatre. Roger was bedazzled by the heaving, noisy scene, was grinning happily and chatting to a very stylish woman who turned out to be Argentinian! Time to knock him down again with a bit of judicious abasement! I swigged down the last of my stout and told him to come with me and to bring his still half- full glass. I led him to the gents, poured his thin pale beer down the drain and took a long piss into his glass, gave it back to him and promptly led him back into the press of bodies. The look of horror on his face was a picture! I got myself another drink (eventually!) and rejoined him where he stood, trying to wrap his hand round as much of his glass as possible to conceal its suspiciously yellow contents. I got chatting to some locals and we had another drink but Roger still stood there miserably clutching his glass of piss. He kept giving me covert glances of appeal and I realised he wanted me to ORDER him to drink it! But oh no, that was too easy and I studiously ignored his appeals. He was going to have to drink it voluntarily. He had to know that he had degraded himself in public not because he had been forced to do so but because he knew what was required of him and did it. I leaned close to him and over the noise of the music I yelled in his ear "You know you are going to get fucked again when we get back to Mrs. F's? Not like last time. This time it's going to be long and slow and hard. Very long. Very slow. And very hard!" He gave a sheepish grin and raised his glass to his lips. He wanted to show me, wanted me to see, but I made a point of not noticing. There was just him and my piss. It was up to him to do the right thing. Back at our B&B I took him to my room. He began to strip as soon as he entered, seeking to please, but I stopped him and made him stand passive and compliant like a tailor's dummy while I handled him and explored him and fingered his flesh as I slowly, very slowly, stripped him naked. Most enjoyable! The humiliation of having to submit to being gripped and groped and stripped and probed for another man's pleasure obviously turned him on, for his rock-hard little cock jutted out from his body dribbling a long stream of fuck-juice down to his knee. I too stripped off and put him on his back at the end of my bed. I hooked his legs over my shoulders, lubed him with his own cock-slime and, bending him double with his knees pressed to his shoulders, I entered into him deep, deep, deep, til my balls hung against his body. And I fucked him as I said I would, very long, very slow and very hard in an entirely selfish, greedy, self-indulgent way. When I had finished I got off him and went to clean up in my bathroom and when I returned he lay where I had left him, sprawled on his back on the bed, apparently exhausted, but he heaved himself up onto one elbow and said "God, but you're an animal. An animal! A fucking, hairy, ANIMAL!" I don't think it was a complaint! I sat beside him and he twisted round and buried his face in my chest, kissing me and licking my nipples. My hairyness seemed to turn him on. I made him kneel before me and told him to toss himself off. He seemed rather put off by having to perform under my scrutiny and his cock had gone soft. He yanked and yanked at it furiously, clearly shamed by his failure. "Come on, come on" I said, deliberately twisting the knife of his shame, "we haven't got all night" and to help him I leaned forward and grabbed his tit in a vicious grip. The effect was dramatic. Suddenly he was hard again and close to orgasm. I cupped my hand in front of his his cock and told him to give me his cum. All of it. Every last drop. I gave a sharp twist to his tit and he seemed to explode, shouting aloud as spasm after spasm shook his body. I had never seen so much semen! Jet after jet squirted into my hand, thick white wads of man-fuck. As I released his nipple he seized that hand and covered it with ecstatic kisses, mumbling "Thankyou Sir, thankyou" over and over. Pathetic! I waited til he quieted down and then said "You are kissing the wrong hand." He sat back on his heels and looked at me blankly and uncomprhending. I nodded to my cupped hand with the cum puddling in its palm. A look of horror came over his face and he started shaking his head and saying "No Sir, no, please no." I just nodded a silent affimative and proffered the mess to him. "Please Sir, I can't do that. Not now. Please, don't make me." I held the back of his head with my other hand and slopped the mess onto his face and spread it around - none too gently. I ground the wet heel of my hand into his eye sockets, I scooped my palm up over his nostrils, I anointed his closed lips with my sticky fingers, I smeared his cheeks. Then I ordered him to lick my hand clean. Tentatively, he touched it with the tip of his tongue. "Not like that you useless bastard" I hissed " scour it with your tongue. Scour it clean." I made him lick my palm and lick between my fingers. I pushed my thumb into his mouth and demanded he suck it clean. Then, gripping his jaw in a fierce grip I bent his face up to mine and sneered "You are a contemptible bit of spunk-faced filth. What are you?" Miserably he repeated the words of his abasement. I had trampled him as low as I could for the time being and disgustedly thrust him away so that he sprawled in abject misery on the floor. I kicked his clothes to him and ordered him to get out. He scrambled into his clothes as quickly as he could and then, instead of slinking away, he surprised me, rather, by kneeling at my feet and saying "Thankyou Sir, thankyou" while kissing the backs of my hands. "Get out" I repeated and he left. Next morning at seven a.m. I went up to the attic and hammered on his door. I pushed through the tentatively opened door, put him down on all fours and took a brisk, morning fuck, doggie style. As before I wiped myself on his face flannel, threw it down on him and as I stepped over him to the door, said "Breakfast at eight" and left. At eight he came to the breakfast room looking very smart - and, yes, handsome too. "Morning boss" I greeted him. Sleep well?" "Very well" he replied, "but then, after all the dashing around yesterday, I felt pretty fucked" and grinned. Mrs F came in and he ordered coffee, orange juice and toast. I smiled, knowing he'd never get away with that. "Lord love you" she shrieked "and you a big strapping feller as needs his vittles. It's one of me famous breakfasts you'll be havin' and no mistake." So, in due course he got the two fried eggs atop fried bread with Cashel gammon, white pudding, Clonakilty black pudding, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and baked beans, toast, marmalade and copious coffee. And he ate the lot! Well, no one messes with Mrs Flaherty! It was an odd day. A busy day. And as I'd promised, nine to five he was the boss. No mention or reference to what had happened between us was made. He even chided me for failing to offer Fergus Malloy our Customer Service Contract after I'd closed the main sale. I knew that a mean, suspicious old batard like Fergus would never go for that but Roger was right, I should have tried and I accepted his rebuke. By 17.15 I delivered him back to Dublin airport in time for his Belfast flight. He thanked me courteously for looking after him for the last two days - especially for introducing him to the amazing Mrs.F! He said he would be back to see more of Ireland, pehaps the West? I told him I had a little cottage over in Connemara, very primitive but right on the water's edge and that if he came on a Thursday night next time, we could spend a day working in Galway and the the week end at my place. He looked at me intently and said quietly that he'd like that - very much, and held out his hand. It was the first reference however oblique to our extra curricular activities. It was time to reassert my control. I took his hand and gripped his upper arm with my left, pressing my thumb hard into his bicep. "Good" I said, "But it will be different next time" "Different?" he queried, attempting to withdraw his hand, but I wouldn't let go. "Yes. There'll be bondage." His eyes opened wide in surprise. I ground my thumb still harder into his bicep (he'd have a bruise there tomorrow to remind him) and added "And punishment too" His eyes opened still wider. "Punishment? What for?" "For being spunk-faced filth. What else? OK?" He dropped his eyes and murmered "Yes Sir". I let go of him, gave him a dismissive jerk of my head, turned on my heel and stalked away. I didn't look round. Why should I? He'd be back... END

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-19

Date: Tue, 06 Feb 2001 16:38:20 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male -- Chapter 19 A Note from the Author: Thank you all for the tremendous email response this story has generated. I'm truly overwhelmed by your compliments, and love hearing your ideas, musings, suggestions, and ruminations about the characters and plot! It's quite rewarding, actually, to know that the "boys" are seeming as real to you as they seem to me. I'm delighted to correspond with you about the story, and other topics. There is one request that a number of you have made, however, that I'm going to have to respectfully refuse: a variety of people have asked if I could notify them separately when I post new chapters. I apologize, but I cannot. You'll just have to look for the chapters on Nifty along with everyone else. While it is important to me to respond to each and every email I've received -- and I've done so! Interacting with real live people is far more important than interacting with fictional characters -- given the volume of response, I just don't have the time to send out posting announcements. Again, I am sorry, and I hope you don't find this too inconvenient. Finally, a private note to Kyle, who offered to proof-read for me: idiot that I am, I accidentally deleted your email. Could you resend a note, so that I can have it for future chapters? Thanks! Chapter 19: Reflections When the alarm rang, I got up, swallowed three aspirin, close to a quart of grapefruit juice, then went back to sleep. When I awoke again, it was just before noon. I was shaky, but had slept through the worst of the hangover. I slowly showered, slowly did my ablutions and quickly drank another three glasses of water. Walking over to the cafeteria, I got myself a cup of coffee, and joined the boys where they were shooting the shit after lunch. "A Bowie knife," said Evan. "Liar," called Matt. "Poster of the Girls National Soccer Team." There was laughter, and a vote. "What's the question?" I asked. "Year alone on a desert island. What would you bring with you?" They were playing 'Liar', one of their favorite games. A question was put on the table, and each of the boys had to answer it in turn. After teach boy offered an answer, the other players challenged him as a liar, and supplied the answer they thought the guy *really* should have said. A vote ensued, where the rest of the players decided whose answer was more appropriate. "Brad," said Evan. "You. What would bring with you if you were alone on a desert island?" "Ummm..." he said, "a year's supply of toilet paper." "Liar," said Adam. "A mirror." The boys laughed. Adam won the vote unanimously. "Steve," said Brad. "You." "I would bring...a fishing rod." Three of the boys screamed liar at the same time, two more calling out, "bullshit!" "Book...." "...Book..." "...Book." Each of the five said the word almost simultaneously. There was hysterical laughter. Steve called on Matt. "One of those spear-gun things." "Liar," said Doug. "A teddy bear." "Oh, fuck you!" Matt said, laughing. Doug won the vote. "Okay," said Matt back to Doug, "your turn then." "Easy," said Doug, "A VCR." "Oh, GAWD!" Matt cried in delight, "I don't even *know* where to begin on that one!" No one could come up with a better answer, though. To general jibes and laughter, the boys concluded that Doug really *would* bring a VCR to a desert island. "Dan. You." "Ax. Build myself a house and a high bar." "Bullshit," said Brad. "Handcuffs." "No," said Steven, "a lap dog." There was general discussion, and Steven won the vote. "Adam," said Dan. "You." "Nothing. I'd make what I found into what I wanted." The boys were generally satisfied with his answer, and nodded among themselves in agreement. "Liar," I heard a voice saying. All the boys turn to look at me in expectant silence. "You'd bring an extra pair of underwear." Adam smiled and his eyes twinkled. The vote went against me. I lost the battle but won the war. "You're up, champ," said Adam. I looked at him. He was all the way across the table from me, but still so tremendously present. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. "I'd bring a mirror, too," I said. "A broken mirror." "Liar," said Dan. "A Thesaurus." There was laughter and comment as there always was, but I heard little of it. Only one sentence caught my ear. Adam said, "I agree with Mark." The vote was seven to one, but I got the one that mattered to me. Adam had smiled at my answer. It was not the evil, asymmetric smirk of previous days. It was the easy, inclusive smile he had offered Doug when they were joking at the parallel bars. And, of course, he had called me by name. Had he ever done that before? Why did it mean so much to me that I had pleased him? I actually got hard knowing that I had. On the way over to the gym, Matt fell in next to me. "Sleep well, amigo?" "Yeh. Thanks for helping me out last night." "What happened?" "Just had a little too much." "A little? You passed out in the middle of a sentence, practically!" "Well, thanks anyway." "No prob, amigo. You were cute." "You're pretty cute yourself." Once in the stands after cleaning up, Johnston walked over to me. "Where were you this morning?" he asked. "Not feeling very well. Sorry about that." "Are you getting sick? Stay away from the boys if you're getting sick." "No, not sick. It was something I ate last night, I think." "Something you ate?" "Yeh." He was silent for a few seconds while he surveyed me. "I see," he said. "Okay. Just make sure the next time, you don't eat it. Or if you do, don't eat so much of it so quickly. You got me?" "Yes, sir. Sorry. It won't happen again." Alone again in the stands, my thoughts turned to my recent experiences. Matt was certainly right - the guy could kiss - of that there was no doubt. I was having more success getting close to him than I had before. That was surely a result of my attempt to present myself as seeing the world as he saw it. Adam clearly had a great deal invested in control. He enjoyed it, he expected it. For me to disagree with his assessment of me must have been unnerving for him. It was easier this way - with me acting as if. It was better. I could study him more effectively if we weren't always at odds. I spent the afternoon in thought and convalescence, not necessarily in that order. My notes were at best spotty. I wouldn't really be able to use them. After dinner, I sat on the lawn outside the dorm. The breeze of the day before had picked up to a steady wind. A front was about to come through. Thunderheads fought each other for dominance in the darkening sky. Drunk. It was so unlike me. I hated the feeling, not to mention the aftermath. What had possessed me? Why run to that? I was getting used to Adam having his perverse way with me - what about the most recent incarnation of his strength had caused me to flee to oblivion? When it began to rain, I retreated to my room and Garcia Marquez. Would I never have a chance to finish that book? It seems the answer to that question was no. Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. "C'mon in," I called, marking my place in the book. It was Eric. He stood in the doorway, hands shoved coyly in his pockets. "It's okay," I said, "you can come in. I won't bite." He walked forward, closing the door behind him. "You got a couple of minutes?" I smiled. Eric was so completely ill at ease with his needs. I wondered if, during the school year, he apologized to his girlfriends before he screwed them. "Sure," I said. "You want to talk?" I don't know why I enjoyed baiting him. There was something about him - the power in his massive biceps and triceps contrasting with his boyish discomfort, his total physical grace unable to counteract his emotional fumbling. "I was wondering if you could help me out again..." He could not bring himself to say the words. "Oh? What do you mean?" He shuffled his feet, looked at the rug. "You know. Like last time." I took pity. Arising, I walked up to him and, standing before him, reached out to stroke his chest. He caught my wrist in his hand before I could make contact, and lowered it down to his crotch. Okay. His denial was bordering on pathology. Still, I had screwed up on the job that morning and this was, of a sort, part of the job description. I sank to my knees, and unzipped his shorts. He was wearing loose boxers. I fished his dick out of the fly and tested its weight in my hand. A really nice dick, actually. It was quite veiny, which made the skin on the outside loose and bumpy, despite his clean circumcision. As it began to swell, the veins became more pronounced, complimenting the dark olive skin with a bluish hue. As he had the first time, he placed his hand behind my head, and drew me onto his dick. I held onto his calves for balance, enjoying the feel of their hairiness. He began stabbing my throat with his cock as it grew to full length. He was neither gentle, nor subtle, nor imaginative. The whole thing couldn't have taken more than five minutes from hard on to ejaculation, which was again, to my gall, on the floor. "Thanks," he said to the doorknob as he reached for it. On his way out, I saw him walk past Adam's open door before mine swung shut. What a bozo, I thought. He wants to get off, but then chooses to do it in the most unsatisfying way possible. He had no clue what he was missing. I felt mildly bad for him. I cleaned myself up, and returned to my book, but it was to be another day like Sunday. There was a second knock on the door. It was Doug. I was genuinely glad to see him. "Hey, stud! How'ya doing?" "Okay," he said. "You feelin' better?" "Yeah, much. Thanks for asking." "No prob, dude. You okay enough for a little action?" he asked coyly. It was so cute - these massive men so embarrassed about sex. Granted, it was gay sex they were embarrassed about - I'm sure they had no such reticence when it came to girls - still, their shyness at broaching the subject was adorable. "For you, stud, any time." "Cool!" he said, animatedly. "So, what's your pleasure?" "Well," he said, returning to coyness, "I could really use a fuck if it's okay with you." "Okay with me?!" I effused, "I'd be delighted to fuck you!" "Oh, ummmm...no," he said, haltingly. "I don't get fucked." "I know you don't, stud," I said, sorry I had made a joke I could have foretold he wouldn't understand, "I know you don't. I was just having some fun with you. I'd love it if you fucked me." Doug grinned the wide, sloppy grin of a little boy. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I get it. Good one." I stood up and walked over to him. Draping my arms over his strong, insanely wide shoulders, I went to kiss him. He pulled back uncomfortably, took hold of my waist and held me at arms length. "I'm really sorry, guy, but I don't do that. That okay?" "What?" I asked, a little confused. "I don't do that," he repeated. "Right. What?" I then realized what he was saying, and interrupted myself. "Oh! You don't kiss guys?" "Yeah. Sorry, man." "I'm confused. You gave me a hand job the other time." "Yeah, well that's just polite." "Pardon?" "I mean, if I'm getting off on you, what kind of asshole would I be if I didn't help get you off too? That would be kind of shitty, wouldn't it? My ma taught me better than that." I laughed. "Your mom taught you to give guys hand jobs?" He laughed too, realizing what he had said. "No, dude! My ma taught me to share. My *brothers* taught me to give hand jobs." "Really?" I asked, shocked. "You used to give your brothers hand jobs?" "Sure," he said. "Didn't you?" The straight world totally mystified me sometimes. I would *never* had considered having sex with my brother. Even at the age of twelve, I knew what that would mean. And yet, straight boys - the same ones who probably taunted the weaker kids at school for being "faggots" - had no compunction about sharing a good cum. "Did you do that a lot?" "Of course," he said. "What, you don't have brothers?" I answered with silence, which he took for affirmation. "Oh. Too bad. Brothers are great. I got five of them. We grew up on a farm. I was the oldest. Three of us in one room, three in the other. There was nothing else until I could drive." "So you had sex with them?" "Naw, dude," he said, "not sex. Just hand jobs, that's all." "And no kissing?" "Naw," he laughed, "that'd be fruity." Then, realizing what he said, a look of horror came across his face. "Shit, man," he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean you..." "That's okay," I said, "I know what you mean." And the weird thing was, I did. I, the consummate political activist - QueerPowerMan himself! - had absolutely no problem with what Doug had just said. He really *hadn't* meant to offend me. He had, as far as I could tell, no problem with my being gay, and despite the curiously parochial notion that so long as he was the one that inserted, he was not gay as well, his faux pas was, I deemed, more a result of his socialization than any deep-seated homophobia. I could not seem to hold it against him - this kid who thought it would be rude not to get off the gay boy while he fucked him. This kid who, not the brightest bulb in the marquee, was the constant butt of his peers' jokes, yet loved them dearly, and laughed with them when he finally got it. "It's okay," I said again, gently and with humor. "I carry off fruity better than you do anyway." "You're all right, guy," he said. "So are you, stud." And with that, I tore off his shirt. Doug laughed at my forwardness. "Can't keep your hands off me?" It wasn't a challenge. He wasn't suggesting that as a gay man, I was turned on by all straight men. He was joking with me in the same way he joked with the rest of the boys. He was treating me as a friend. He was accepting me into the fold. "You kidding?" I said, infecting my voice with as much awe, adoration, and lust as I could. "Big he-man like you? What self-respecting homo wouldn't melt at the sight of those rippling biceps?" "What," he said, smiling, flexing his arms and making muscles for me, "these old things?" "Baby! You make me wet!" Doug laughed out loud as I took off my own shirt. "Shit, dude," he said, "you sound like snatch." I led him into the bedroom. He unfastened his pants while I went for the lube. When I turned back, he was standing before me naked. And quite a sight he was. Big square trapezius muscles triangulating his neck, big square deltoids capping his shoulders, big square pectorals pushing out his chest, big square horizontal slabs of abdominal muscle slatting the trapezoid of his lower torso. And all softened and mellowed by the thin but perceptible layer of padding that ran, uniformly, under his skin. He was a study in Euclidean geometry. Smooth except for the light trail of brown hair which led from his navel to his pubic bush, his skin oozed vitality, youth, exuberance, and the kind of frat-boy dufusness that on most was hideously unappealing, but on him, a natural turn-on. He stood, gently stroking his tool, which was already hard. Its head flared out from the shaft like an arrow pointing up toward his chin. He kneeled on the bed, and waited for me to lie down before him. "Not this time, stud," I said. "This time, I do all the work. You just lie back and enjoy." "Really?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with delight. "Cool!" He turned over, lying on his back on the bed. I straddled him. I slathered a good bit of the lubrication over my ass crack and into my hole, then brought myself down onto him, riding across the top of his dick as it lay against his stomach. A little foreplay for the sheep dog. He may not kiss, but that didn't mean he didn't deserve a few hors d'ouvres. He responded with a grin as my perineum slid back and forth across the underside of his dick. "That's nice, dude," he fairly purred. "Thanks. I aim to please. Listen, can I ask you a question?" "Sure, man. What?" "Do you and Adam ever do it?" "Do what?" "You know - hand jobs, fuck, whatever. Sex." "Me and Adam?" He was surprised by the question, as if I must be crazy even to ask. "Yeah. Ever jerk each other off?" "Fuck no!" he laughed. How could I even think that, he was clearly wondering. "How come?" I made sure the friction on his dick was enough to keep him well aroused, but not enough to make him lose himself in the mania of sex. "We're straight." "Adam's straight?" "Of course. You thought he was a fag?" I smiled at the word. Doug had no idea that from his lips the word might be offensive, and because he was so clueless, it ended up not being so. I was completely confident that if I asked him not to use the word around me, he'd agree and, furthermore, feel awful for having offended me. "Well, I never really thought about it. I just kind of assumed he fucked everyone, you know? Just whoever was around when he got horny." "Adam? Shit, that's hysterical," Doug said, then, seeing that I was serious in asking the question, added, "sorry. Didn't mean to piss you off. I'm always thinking the wrong thing too." This boy had a golden heart. True, it was in the body of an oaf that was completely untarnished by twenty years of societal insistence on political correctness, but it was genuinely kind and gentle. I got the impression that he would rather catch a fly and set it free outside than kill it. "No, Adam and I never did anything," he explained, carefully and slowly. "I wouldn't want to, and neither would he. Adam's one of the coolest guys I know." "What do you do when he calls you into his room in the evenings, then?" "Talk about routines, a little, then laugh." "Laugh?" "Yeah. Adam's like the only guy I know who likes my jokes. I tell him jokes and he laughs with me." "Not at you?" "Naw. The other guys laugh at me. Adam laughs with me." "Does it bother you when they laugh at you?" "Naw," he said, "I'm used to it. I'm not the smartest guy on the planet, and I know it. I don't care. I'm good at other things." "Was it Adam who helped you realize that?" "Yeah!" Doug said, amazed. "How did you know?" "Just a hunch, stud," I said, and returned to concentrating on making him happy. I was stroking his dick with my perineum now, starting with pressure at his balls, then sliding slowly, languorously, up the shaft to his glans. >From there, I would rise up a bit, breaking contact, and retreat back to the base of his cock. On every third stroke or so, I would add a lateral motion, zig-zagging left and right a bit to cause his dick to slide slightly across his abdomen, increasing the sensation he was getting by doubling the surface area receiving friction to front and back. Periodically, I stopped mid dick, and quivered, bouncing up and down on him. Despite my efforts to keep him below the threshold of mounting urgency, precum began to dribble out of the wide slit in his large, rubbery head. "Mmmm," he said, "that's great, dude." "Yep," I replied, "and that's only the beginning." "Cool!" I started to center on the top of his dick, rubbing, with the engorged tube of flesh below my balls, the sensitive junction between head and shaft, just under his piss-slit. I moved forward a little, so that his head was closer to my pucker. Now, rather than forward and backward gliding motions, I was able to minister to him merely with slight rotations of my hips. His dick twitched appreciatively, and every once in a while, a twitch coincided with a particular attitude of my hip to raise his cock slightly off his torso, and poke against the ring of muscles in my sphincter - a periodic and unexpected delight for both of us. He began to rotate his own hips sympathetically with mine - not, I think, in an effort to choreograph the action, or to set up a counterpoint to my movements, but in the instinctual need for motion that begins to take over as the blood begins to boil with sexual desire. "You ready, studman?" I asked. "Born ready, dude," he said, then added, "take it easy when you put it in, though. I don't want to hurt you." He had been careful the last time he had fucked me as well, watching my eyes as he entered me, looking for signs of pain, relaxation, and acceptance. Such a conundrum he was! This boy who would spend hours at the dinner table talking about "gash" and "pussy" worried about hurting his partner with his dick. "Okay," I replied. "You just let me do it." "Cool." I continued to rotate my hips, working the head of his dick closer and closer to my hole. When I felt I had had it centered, I began a series of quick gyrations whose effect was to push his dick into my hole - enough that he could feel the pressure, but not enough that it would open the ring of muscles, which I held tightly squeezed. I had a surprise in store for this gentle bear - one that I expected he would remember for a long time. Keeping the pressure of his dick head against my asshole, I raised up, angling his cock away from his body until it was held vertically by my closed sphincter. It wanted to flip back to horizontal, the slipperiness of the lube helping it to do so. The balancing act took concentration - enough pressure to keep his dick in place where I wanted it, but not enough to open my hole to it. But I was successful. They might have been masters of the still rings, princes of the parallel bars, viscounts of the vault, but I was definitely the duke of dick. Not all gymnastics are done on the floor, after all. I was as talented in my venue as they were in theirs. "Ready?" I asked again? Doug just looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to slowly push down, acclimating myself, in time, to the girth of the head of his dick in my tight hole. Instead, in one swift and unexpected move, I opened myself up to him entirely, and sank down completely, impaling myself on him to the root. "Holy fuck!" he cried as his head pressed back, involuntarily, into the pillow. I stayed down on him, luxuriating in the feel of him in me. Granted, a week ago I would not have been able to complete that move successfully. But after all the fucking I had been getting at the camp, I had regained some of the control and stretch I had lost in the months of drought I had endured before. Rather than begin an ascent, I sat on him, pressing down into his pubic bush, and began to rhythmically squeeze and relax my sphincter on him. Combining this with a timed distention and contraction of my front abdominal muscles, it began, as I knew it would, an internal coital undulation which traveled up his dick to where it finally caressed his arrowhead, buried deep within me. It was a trick I had learned reading one of the Indian tantric epics, one that tended to make me somewhat of a hit at parties. His jaw dropped as his head ground back into the pillow, his eyes shut tightly in ecstasy, and a guttural, primal, indecipherable moan escaped him. Still, lost as he was in the bliss I was helping him achieve, his hand moved up to reach for my own desperately hard cock. I grabbed it by the wrist, and taking his other wrist in my other hand, pinned them over his head. "No you don't, stud," I whispered, "this is all for you." Bent over him, now, I had further leverage and a good angle at my disposal. I pulled off his dick far enough to feel the flare of his head begin to pull at my ass ring from the inside. I left it there a moment, squeezing, relaxing, squeezing again, while I bounced almost imperceptibly up and down, driving the bottom of his head again and again against the firm, tight ring of muscle. Then, as suddenly and completely as I had the first time, I swallowed him whole again, gripping him with all due diligence and force. Down upon him again, I gyrated left then right, feeling the different angles cause his dick to reach new and happier places within me. Up and down again, this time to vibrate in quarter inch thrusts aimed at the base of his dick. Doug was beyond the place where thinking occurs. He was in a land of need and sensation and vividness, and I was sending him there. Who really has the control, I wondered, and not for the first time, the top or the bottom? Who truly calls the shots? I let the thought slide from my mind as I was pretty close to that land myself, as his dick, at my direction, was playing my prostate like a calliope. But I was in control, and retained enough presence of mind to ensure that he was held fully captive in that place that heroine users are only able to find on their very first hit. I began a long, slow, deep fucking rhythm, grasping his dick with my chute as I fell onto him, offering a loose, slippery, warm, wet slide as I retreated. Reaching behind me, I felt first for his dick, pressing on the engorged underside as it disappeared into then retreated from my asshole, then began rubbing and pulling on his balls. They had started their slide up toward his torso, but I would have none of it, and began to gently tug them away from his body. This boy was not going to cum for some time. And hold him suspended between the agony of continuation and the bliss of release I was able to do for an insanely long period. By the end, sweat poured from his body as his lungs gasped for breath. This athlete, this model of endurance - I had him panting and begging me to let him cum. When I finally did, his back arched so completely he lifted me off the bed almost eighteen inches. He did not so much shoot as pour his jism into my body. It was the Jonestown flood. I could feel each electric shock of his orgasm, each beat of his heart through the raw walls of my chute. He stayed hard after he collapsed. One does not recover so quickly from such a fuck. It was a good five minutes before his dick began to soften within me. I pulled off him, and fell, exhausted, next to him on the bed, where we lay, thinking our own thoughts, finding our own ways back into our respective bodies. "That was un-fucking-believable," he said, after a while. "Thanks," I replied, not bothering to open my eyes. "Fuck, dude. I wish you had tits and a snatch." "Ewwww." "Be a man," he said, then added, "get a snatch." I looked over at him. He was grinning, and realizing he had just cracked a joke, I burst out in laughter. "Man," he said, sighing. "Brad was right. We should bring you with us to the Nationals." "Brad wants me to come to the Nationals with you?" "Yeah. He says you could be, like, our mascot. He says you're too good to leave behind. Now I know what he's talking about." "Mascot?" "Oh," he said, a look of concern crossing his face, "is that obnoxious? I never know." I smiled. "Well, normally, yeah. It would be kind of obnoxious. But you meant it as a compliment, didn't you?" "Yeah! I did!" he said, emphatically. "It'd be cool having you around. The guys have really started to like you." "That's sweet," I said, truly touched by the sentiment coming, as it was, from this particular source. "And I can see why, too. Man!" he said, "That was one of the best fucks I've ever had. You should give lessons, you know?" "So I've been told." "Well you been told right, guy. You got an awesome cunt there." Not many times a guy hears such flattery, I thought. I should put that on my resume. PhD in Psychology, Magna Cum Laude, published at 20, awesome cunt. "Listen, Doug," I said after a few moments, "can I ask you a favor?" "Sure, dude. Anything you want." I considered that. It wasn't just a turn of phrase, I thought. Doug really was the kind of guy that would do anything for a friend. I returned from my tangent. "Close your eyes and describe me." "What do you mean?" "It's an exercise. It'll help me. Close your eyes, and look at me in your mind. Then describe what you see." "You're kind of strange, you know that?" "Be that as it may, I'd appreciate your doing it." "Okay," he said, "what the fuck?" He closed his eyes, and turned his head back to face the ceiling. "You're kind of scrawny," he said, then turned back to me and opened his eyes. "I don't mean that in a bad way, you know. I'm sorry." "No, no..." I said, smiling, "that's exactly what I want. I won't be offended. You just say whatever comes to mind. Describe me with whatever words you want, and don't worry about hurting my feelings." He shrugged, and turned his head back toward the ceiling again. "Okay," he said. "Well, you're kind of scrawny. You could use to work out. I'd say around 5'9", maybe 5'10". You got brown hair and you need a haircut. You got green eyes that are kind of intense. They're closer together than normal, I think. You got a long neck." He shrugged again, not really knowing what else to say. "And you got the best cunt in the camp." "Honey," I said, "I got the *only* cunt in the camp!" He laughed. "Same thing," he said. "Same thing."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-37

Date: Sun, 06 May 2001 18:52:22 -0400 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male Chapter 37 Chapter 37: Unexpected Encounters For the rest of the afternoon it was as if I had broken my shackles and was able to turn from the shadows on the cave wall to look at the real fire for the first time. I didn't write a word. I just watched in wonder as the beautiful simplicity of it played out before me. I was seeing it. I was understanding it. It had been there all along, and now it was clear. I skipped lunch, preferring to be alone with my thoughts. I took the lake path into the woods, hardly seeing out my own eyes, so absorbed was I in following my new trains of thought to their destinations. Puzzle pieces that had for years stayed in the box suddenly fit, for the first time, into the picture. Clarity. Gorgeous clarity. My career stretched out before me. The diss was a go. There was no question about it. What I had found was big. It was important. It was a breakthrough. Not just for me. It was a breakthrough in the field. My heart beat with the adrenaline coursing through my system as I began to be infected by Sharon's earlier enthusiasm. This *was* worth a million, I realized. At least. I was walking around the lake and veered off into the woods. Finding a clearing, I lay down and let the sun warm my skin. There's a feeling you get when you work very hard on something - something that is difficult for you - and finally get it. It's called "float." My brain flooded with beta-endorphins, I planned out my very bright future in the sparkles and fireworks the sun created on the insides of my eyelids. I couldn't wait to tell Adam! How long had he struggled in his life to understand? Here was the second gift in less than 24 hours that I could give him. I wasn't quite sure how much time had passed by the time I finally got up. It felt like midafternoon. I brushed myself off and headed back toward the path. The sense of float hadn't worn off, and I found myself bouncing a little as I walked, like Matt. I was heading through the woods toward the beach when a noise off to my left caught my ear. As I made my way through the trees, a clearing opened up before me. Shmu was at its center, standing sideways to me, bathing suit pulled down to his thighs. Kneeling before him was Evan. I stopped at the edge of the clearing, and moved, as quietly as I could, behind the cover of a large spruce. From there, unobserved, I watched. Shmu had his hands on the back of the boy's head, fingers laced through his golden locks there. Evan, hands on Shmu's thighs to prevent him from pushing in farther, was sucking on Shmu's dick head like it was a lollipop. Shmu was purring at him in the way I had become very familiar with over the months of our relationship. "That's it, baby. Take a little more. You can do it." Shmu was a talker. I had never particularly liked verbalizations during sex until I had met him. Having grown up with a bedroom next to my parents' in a house with thin walls, I had learned to masturbate completely silently, and the practice had carried over to sex. But Shmu liked to direct while he was fucking, and the steady patter he kept up had a calming, erotic effect. "Just an inch more, baby. C'mon. You know you want a little more." His biceps flexed a little more as he pulled Evan to him. Evan still resisted with his hands against Shmu's thighs, but the syrup of Shmu's enticements was having its effect. He let a little more of the shaft disappear into his mouth. "Yeah, baby. There ya go. Ya like it? Ya like Shmu's big fat dick in your mouth? I know ya do, baby. Shmu got a sweet dick, huh baby?" Without letting up the pressure on the back of Evan's head, Shmu began to flex his hips, pulling out an inch, then returning. Evan was a curious mix of desire and reluctance. His posture was defensive, keeping Shmu at a distance, only allowing him to slide in an inch past the head. But his face, angelic to begin with, was in sublime repose. Eyes closed but not tensed shut, lips tight around Shmu's shaft, he sucked like a natural. His dick, hidden by his shiny blue Speedo, was full but not fully hard. "You got such sweet lips, baby. Take Shmu's dick like a man. C'mon, baby. There ya go. In a little more. No one will know baby. This is just our little secret. That's it. Oh, yeah, baby. Keep doin' that with your tongue. You know what feels good." The boy's cheeks were going rosy. Keeping one hand behind his head to prevent escape - not that Evan would have at that point, ensnared as he was in Shmu's web of sugary words and encouragement - Shmu began to stroke his bangs and hair and face with the other one. "Yeah, baby. Take me in some more. Make Shmu happy, baby. Just a little more. Oh, baby, that's it. Make Shmu proud." It was fascinating watching the play before me. Adam had, of course, been right. Evan was high on the scale. And straight. He was clearly not getting off on the blow job per se. More, it was the domineering position Shmu had taken. Shmu sounded like he was asking, inviting, cajoling. But there was an insistence that was very difficult to refuse or defend against. If Dan and Adam were zeros, Shmu was a very talented one and one half. I recognized myself in the little blond sophomore at his feet. But the play was also intensely erotic. I had always been somewhat of a voyeur. That's why my favorite position was on my back. I loved to watch the guy's abdomen crunch as he plowed me. I loved to pull my balls to the side, and watch his dick sink in my hole. Shmu's six-pack was beginning to be periodically visible as he rotated his hips on the in-strokes. His stomach went from smooth concavity to defined ripples and back again as he tried to push beyond Evan's crumbling defenses. Such a sexy man! Shmu had it all, almost. "You like being on your knees, baby? Yeah, you do. Shmu knows. He won't tell nobody. Some guys like feeding dick, some guys like being on their knees. Nothing wrong with that, baby. Nothing wrong with that at all. You just take Shmu's big dick a little more. You can do it." He was burying it almost to the hilt by now. Evan had begun using his hands more to hold on than to push Shmu away. Shmu increased the pace a little, still trying to get the boy to swallow just a little bit more on each thrust. I had gone rock hard watching them of course. Not just the identification with Evan, but Shmu's own intense appeal had got me leaking into my shorts. His hair was too long, he could hardly talk about anything except sex and baseball, and he was a stubborn jackass sometimes, but boy! That boy could fox trot! "There you go, baby. You're almost there. Yeah, baby. That's it. Ahhhhhh." Shmu purred as his auburn pubes made contact with the boy's nose. His free hand went back to the back of Evan's head. He clasped two fistfuls of yellow hair and began to pump. Shmu's great dick slid out of then back into the boy's mouth. "Get ready, baby. Shmu gonna take you on a ride now. You like that? Yeah. Shmu's big dick down your throat. Mmmph. Take it baby." Evan, for his part, was doing his best to breathe while he accommodated Shmu's length and size. His own dick had grown, stretching the fabric of his shiny blue bathing suit away from his firm belly. Shmu was forcing the kid's head forward and back as vehemently as he was, himself, thrusting into the boy's mouth. They went on like that for minutes. I didn't touch myself. I didn't dare move for fear they would see or hear me. Shmu kept up his hypnotic banter throughout, directing Evan, complimenting him, urging him on to greater depths of subservience. It was achingly beautiful to watch. When Shmu began to near climax, he instructed Evan to take out his dick and jack himself. The boy did. His right hand wrapped around himself and he began to stroke himself furiously. Evan had a lovely dick - much like Brad's. Together, their sacks became wrinkly as their balls journeyed upward to the blast-off position. Shmu's grip on the boy's hair tightened as he neared the edge. I could see the veins begin to stand out on his forearm. Suddenly, Shmu pulled the boy's head back while he pulled his own dick out. Still grasping the kid's hair with one hand, he took his pole, now directly over Evan's face, and gave it two final strokes. He had the kid's head bent backward facing the sky. Evan looked up at the dick and the man above it, mouth held open by the position in which he was held, and stroked himself violently. The first spurt of cum roped from the boy's forehead across the bridge of his nose and down to his cheek. Having fired a tracer, Shmu's next shot hit the mark, sending a full squirt into Evan's mouth. That brought Evan over the edge and he let loose a long jet of his own. The two of them shuddered and shot, shivered and creamed, panted and swallowed. It was all I could do to keep myself from cumming along with them. Instead, I withdrew as silently as I could and made for the path to the beach. The boys were all there. Brad and Adam were on the beach catching sun while the rest of the boys played in the water, the former in jams, the latter in boxers. There were chicken fights going on. Doug and Matt on top of him were taking on Drew and Corey. Dan sat on the raft, his feet dangling into the water. He was in a pair of boxers too. When he saw me, he motioned me over to him. I hadn't really known I was going swimming. I had come from the gym, without ever stopping in my room to change. But they didn't seem to care particularly that Adam and Dan were in their underwear. I stripped down to my jockeys, jumped into the lake and swam out to the raft. "Where y'all been?" he asked as I surfaced at his feet and grabbed on to an ankle. "Needed to be alone for a while. I made a...an observation today when I was taking notes. I had to think it through." "You steal our clothes?" "Huh?" "All our clothes are gone." "Oh, yeah," I said, smiling. "Sorry. I was washing them. Totally forgot." "Y'all took our bathing suits." "I did! That why you're in boxers?" Dan nodded. "Why don't y'all get us a change of clothes," he said. "I...ummm...well, I never put them in the dryer," I answered sheepishly. Dan frowned down on me. "What's made the little man so forgetful? Not like you." "It was the research, Dan. I made...I came to...I made a breakthrough. I understand it. I'm seeing it. I get where the control comes from and how it's done." I was becoming animated. Dan extended his knee and brought it back down again, taking me for a little ride as I clung to his ankle. "Settle down, little man," he chuckled. He slid into the water. "C'mon, we'll go put the clothes in the dryer. You can tell me all about it." At the shore, he walked over to Adam and Brad. I followed. Adam opened his eyes, shading them with a forearm. The hair in his armpit sparkled again, as it had the last time we were on the beach in the daytime. He was so fucking sexy. He didn't slough hormones, he sloughed sex itself. "The thief?" he asked. "Yeah," Dan answered. "Just because I told you gay guys stole my underwear didn't mean you had to steal *all* of 'em," Adam said, looking over at me. I laughed. "I was doing your laundry," I explained. "And yours?" He nodded at my own jockeys, now sopping and, I realized with horror, completely transparent as a result. "Good to see ya, Heywood," Brad said. "What's up? Besides you, I mean." I smiled at Brad then turned back to Adam. "No, I just forgot a bathing suit." Adam nodded, brought his hand down, closed his eyes and returned his attention to the sun. "Fix our clothes," he said easily. "Doing that now, chief." Dan and I turned and set off. As we got to the path, we passed Evan and Shmu just arriving at the beach. Hellos were exchanged, Shmu's with a smirk given my state of transparency, mine with a smirk given his. They walked onto the beach, we onto the trail. Away from the crowd, Dan asked me about my discovery. "It's preliminary," I told him excitedly, "but it's the key. I found the key. I know how to make the observations make sense. I still have a couple of weeks of notes to take, but I know what I'm looking for now. I know what I'm looking *at*." I gave him a thumbnail sketch, finishing as we got to the laundry. "That's pretty good," he said. "Makes sense." "Doesn't it? It's so obvious! But not until it's obvious." Dan laughed. "Settle down, little man." I took the laundry out of the washing machine and piled it into the basket. "I will, I will." I said, bringing the basket over to the drier. "It's just that this is really big. I mean, *really* big, Dan." I started throwing the clothes into the drier. "It's big for my career. It means my diss is a go. More than a go. It'll be easy. Easy! Can you imagine it?" I slammed the drier shut and turned it on. "And it's big for you, too. I know you're new to it, but haven't you wondered? Haven't you wanted to know what's going on when people just--" My babble was interrupted. Dan had me, pressed against the drier, in a seriously deep kiss. I melted, letting go the need to talk, to effuse, to explain. Very quickly there was only Dan in the world again. Only his tongue as it undulated across mine and sucked my lips into his mouth. Only his chest as it pressed me into the vibrating, warming machine behind me. Only his hand as it cupped my damp crotch and slid down and back to my crack. My knee came up, giving him access. It was the last decision I made. After that, it was all Dan. He was gentle with me. A lion, but a gentle one. He hooked my knee on his hip and worked my hole with his fingers. I hugged him to me with my legs, content to let him drive and drive me wild. His other hand held my chin, turning my head, positioning me as he wanted me at any given moment. My hands rested on the velvet skin that covered the massive strength of the sides of his chest. Our wet shorts were on the floor soon. Dan picked them up with his foot, hooking them with his toes. Lifting his leg, he handed them to me. I turned, opened the drier, threw them in, shut the door and restarted the machine. I made to turn back, but Dan pinned me in that position, bending me over so that I was pressed from knee to chest around the right angle of the drier. My dick ground into the front of the machine, its warm vibration penetrating me. Meanwhile, Dan had bent over on top of me and began to lick the back of my neck. He positioned his legs between mine. Without my knowing quite how he slicked it, his dick was at my door knocking to come in. I was so loose from the night before he had little difficulty, and I was readily rewarded with the fullness of him. I gripped him the best I could, though somewhat sore, and set up a shiver for him. He moaned into my ear in appreciation. I held onto the sides of the machine while he set up an easy, unforced pace. He was tender and attentive and caring this time, keeping me, again, off balance. Knowing instinctively that it was what I wanted, he remained bent over me, maximizing the contact between us - skin on skin. Even his arms covered me as he stretched them out to interlock his fingers in mine. Pinioned between his warmth and the warmth of the machine, I relaxed completely. His only movement was the rocking of his hips as he slid to and fro within me, occasionally moving from side to side a bit to find new sensations. I helped him, raising up on tiptoe to help him pull out, then bending my knees as he glided back in. Dan and I fit together perfectly. I'd been with men where one of us had to bend uncomfortably or spread his legs impossibly wide for the other to get a good angle of approach. But Dan and I matched. It was not just our heights, it was the respective lengths of our legs. When I stood in his arms, my back to his front, my head was at the perfect height to rest on his shoulder, my ass was at the perfect height for him to fuck me. We could stay there comfortably for days, me resting on him, he resting in me. The weight of him on me was, in and of itself, also tremendously erotic. It was not that he was big - he only had an inch on me in height. It was that he was dense. His muscles, when flexed, were rock hard and they went from looking normal when he was relaxed to large and sharply defined when he was pumped. To bear Dan's weight was to know one was being taken by a man. He impressed. Still, he kept his pace slow, not allowing either himself or me to climax. Instead, he kept me sustained at a level of excitement that on my best days alone I could not hold more than a short while. The drier worked its vibratory magic on my dick while he worked his own brand on the rest of me. After fifteen minutes, he had me whimpering from the inability to cope with the intensity of the delight he was inflicting. He kept me there, thrust after thrust, minute after minute, careful to draw his crown over my prostate enough to keep my fuse short and lit, but just shy of allowing me to blow. My knees lost the ability to hold me up and I would have crumpled were it not for his weight pressing me against the machine. His tongue was at my ear, licking it, chewing gently, blowing his sweet, cooling breath over the wetness he had left. He began moving his arms, taking mine with them as our fingers were still interlocked. I could offer no resistance, not that I would were I able. I had no energy, it having been converted long before, entirely into sensation. He lifted me up like a rag doll, straightening us so that, while my groin was still pressed against the machine, I was now vertical and leaning back onto his chest while he ground, in the longest most delicious thrusts, into my being. One arm straddled my chest, holding me to him, preventing me from falling. The other began playing with me - lightly stroking my sides with fingernail edges, running nipples between thumb and forefinger, tracing from chin, over Adam's apple, to sternum. He began to drill faster, driven by some inner need I could not possibly understand. I felt him grow inside me from granite to tungsten, from large to impossibly large, from hot to searing. The thrusts became deeper, and more staccato. His breathing picked up, too. He held me so closely to his chest I could have become him. He turned my head, came around my shoulder and swallowed me in a demanding, completely possessive kiss. That did it. I felt his hips shudder as the first spasm wracked his body. The jizz expanded the flesh under his urethra as it shot out. I could feel it pump into me. At once, I too was over the edge, twitching on him as if I had touched a live wire. My ass clamped down in spasm as my dick jetted my load onto the machine. This caused him to spasm and pump another load in me. We began a sympathetic rhythm, each's wave of pleasure both causing and caused by the other's. As the last shudder passed through us, the drier buzzed. Cycle complete. "Like that, little man?" He said into my ear after we had caught our breath. "Yeah, well, you *do* know how to stick the landing, don't you?!" He laughed and licked the sweat from my neck. After folding the laundry and picking up bathing suits for each of us, we made back toward the lake. "Can I ask something?" I said. "You can ask." "That was really tender back there." "That wasn't a question." Adam had taught him well! Hadn't I had this very conversation before? "I mean, I loved it - don't get me wrong - you were fantastic! But I didn't expect it." "That's still not a question, little man." "Aren't you into...I don't know...don't you like it rougher?" "I like it tender too. It's not about rough or tender for me. What's it about for me?" he asked in a third-grade teacher voice. "Permission?" "Good boy. And if I had wanted to go rough, would y'all have let me?" "Of course!" "So I didn't need to, then, did I." It wasn't a question. While what he was saying made sense in an intellectual way, I had begun to be comfortable with the fact that I would never understand his motivations. Isn't that a strange thing for a psychological researcher to say? I think not. I could quantify, I could measure, I could describe, but I could not understand. Not empathetically, at least. He was out of my experience, and that was okay. He was taking me on a lovely ride, and that was enough. "You amaze me," I said. "You're not so bad yourself, little man." He patted my butt as we walked, and I giggled. "I think you've grown since I met you. You're different, you know." "You too, Mark." He was right. I felt infinitely close to him as we walked on in silence. At the beach, I threw my towel down next to Adam's. Brad was in the water, and the Alpha was lying alone, still soaking rays. "I brought you a suit," I said. "Mmm." He didn't move or open his eyes. He had gotten a good bit of color in the sun, and he shone from it. The boxers he wore were emerald green silk. I understood why they were such a commodity. "Can we talk?" "Yeah. What's up?" "Can we talk about you?" This got his attention. He turned onto his side, propped his head up on his bent arm, and looked at me. "I'm all yours. What do ya want to know, champ."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-17

Date: Sat, 27 Jan 2001 10:21:14 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 17 Chapter 17: Mind Under Matter Sleep came easily. Matt had returned to his room, I had showered and changed my sheets, and finally succumbed to the post-coital relaxation that had swept over my body. My limbs sprawled out, taking up the entire bed, luxuriating in the feel of the clean linen. My asshole twitched every once in a while, content with the feeling of its dull ache, missing the stretch. I dreamt again - this time a more narrative, linear-sequential and less surreal series of images. In the first, I was at Adam's feet looking up at him, he cupping my head against his thigh in his hand. He smiled down at me, a gentle, loving smile - one that I knew, even in my dream, he had yet to show me in real life. My dream-self took solace in the knowledge that I had pleased him, my analytical-self too asleep to ask what I had done to make him pleased. The image faded to one of the two of us in bed, he lying on my back, pinning my hands with his over my head. His dick was in me, enormous, spiking me like a butterfly on a pin. We did not move - I took his full, dense weight both on me and in me. To have him take me was enough. I felt, in the dream, complete, whole, at one with him. In that position, I was his extension, his shield, his armor. I was merely and contentedly his. Another fade, to Adam on the rings in a Maltese Cross. His body in a horizontal plane, his arms extended at 90-degree angles to his sides, his muscles, engorged with blood, strained to hold the position. Still, he had the strength left over to slowly look up and make eye contact with me. His mouth curled into his asymmetric smirk. He did not talk, but I heard his voice within my brain. "Have you figured it out yet?" Another fade, and again, I was at someone's feet. This time it was Brad, standing over me on the couch, his arms flexed in the pose he had taken the other day. The blond hairs of his armpits shimmered, as did the light off the pumped muscles of his upper torso, shoulders, and arms. His beautiful dick bounced in the air above me, his angelic, open face pointed down toward mine in friendliness. But he was not seeing me. He was facing me, but not looking. Another fade, and I was with Matt, lying in the afterglow of sex. There was fondness, there was pleasure, there was desire, there was joy, but there was, as there had always been, through Matt and all the boys before him, some unidentifiable missing thing. Something dark and secret, which left me always only partially filled, and always yearning. A final fade, and there was Dan, looking into my eyes, having captured my king. Dan. Powerful, competent, self-assured. Dan, who got me to laugh hysterically about a joke involving Locke, Bishop Barkeley, and a beagle. Dan, whose biceps were full and round and menacing even when he relaxed. I awoke upset and upset I was hard. Scrooge's words rang in my ears - a bit of undigested potato, I thought. Nothing more. A second night found me in the bathroom splashing water in my face before I could return to sleep. The next morning, Matt approached me in the locker room, asking me to help tape his wrists - something he had been doing on his own, probably, since he was six. "Last night was so cool," he said. "Did you like it?" "Oh, it was fun, no doubt," I said, wrapping the roll of tape around one of his wrists as we sat facing each other, straddling the bench in front of the lockers. "You're really nice. I like you a lot. Do you like me?" He was so strangely insecure, given all he had to offer. "I like you just fine, pup," I answered. "I like it when you call me 'pup'." "Well, it seems to fit." "Did you like where I found to bury my bone last night?" I laughed. "Listen," he said, "where are you going to be living at school? Next year, I mean." "In the graduate apartments in the South Quad," I answered. "Why?" "You got a roommate?" He asked. "Naw. That's why I'm on campus. They provide shit-boxes to the graduates, but you get to live alone. If I had an apartment off campus, it'd be nicer, but I'd have to pay much more and get a roommate." "Cool," he said, offering me the other wrist to tape. "Why?" "I have a roommate next year. Three, actually. We're in a suite." "Oh." I let the conversation flag, not particularly liking where I felt it was headed. After a pause, Matt asked if I wanted to hook up again that night. "Make it three-in-a-row, huh?" "That's the plan," he said, smiling. "Probably. We'll see." "'Kay." I had finished his second wrist, and he bounded off toward the gym. Later in the stands with my notebook, I surveyed the boys again. Matt, sweet and innocent, determinedly pitting his considerable strength against the still rings, Brad, open, sunshine on the ocean under blue skies, doing a tumbling run. Steve and Evan were talking next to the pommel horse. I didn't know them yet, already a week into the summer. Steven certainly enjoyed reading - he read almost every night in the commons room. Evan, pretty, quiet, but still totally undefined. Eric, his uni pulled down to expose his chest, dark, brooding, talking to Johnston, Corey, muscles bulging, face contorted by his concentration, doing giants on the high bar. Drew - another blank spot in my book, was adjusting the vault. Doug, big, oafish, well-meaning, loud, generous, talking with Adam and Dan next to the parallel bars. Dan was in what I had identified as Adam's pose 3: standing with his weight on one leg, hips askew, one hand on his hip where it jutted out, the other slowly, unconsciously stroking his own abdominals. Next to Adam, he seemed a poseur, observing and mimicking. And yet, the Dan I had spent time with the night before - whose company I had so enjoyed - had seemed genuine, at ease and entirely his own man. I didn't know how to resolve the discrepancy in my mind, but determined to do so. I had liked Dan. Something about him was very compelling, very intriguing...very erotic, I found myself thinking. Certainly he was stunning. But more than that, he seemed to combine surety with expertise in an entirely appealing and attractive way. My dick stirred. "Guys, girls..." he had said the night before, "whatever floats my boat." I wondered just what floated it, and whether I would have the opportunity to be at his particular shore when the tide came in. And then, of course, there was Adam, leaning with one arm hooked over one of the bars. He was laughing with Doug and Dan - Doug had just told a joke, and it had cracked up the three of them. With a smile on his face, he was even more devastating. His eyes twinkled, his tongue rested on his lower teeth, sticking out slightly, like a cat who was distracted while licking himself. If only he weren't such an asshole, I thought. How could Dan have thought him a good judge of character? The dreams were beginning to concern me. I was not a big fan of dream analysis - a leftover from the sillier days of psychoanalytic theory, I had always felt. I put much more credence in the cognitive and behavioral schools, which tended to look at dreams as random neural firing. Still, knowing they didn't mean anything was not the same as feeling comfortable having them. A nightmare is still a nightmare. I was particularly offended that my subconscious had eroticized the violence to which Adam had subjected me. Mid-morning, Johnston came over to my place in the stands, and told me and told me it was time for my first "gofer" run. As a result, I brought a piece of paper and pen to lunch, and took orders for shampoo, razors, stamps, any conveniences they needed or had run out of. "You skipping the afternoon practice?" Matt asked at the table. "Nope. I'll go before dinner." The afternoon came and went. So that I could get away early, I started cleaning the locker room while the boys were still in the shower. All that skin! Smooth, shimmering in the water, streams cascading off muscles pumped after six hours of strenuous use. Lather was worked up, worked in, rinsed away. O! To be a bubble! Dan's dick was impressive. Soft, it hung long, straight, and thin. I marveled at how sexualized I had become in the past week. Was it the proximity to such flesh? The easy access? Between Matt and Brad alone, I was having more sex than I had had with my last boyfriend. Or was it Adam, who was, as I watched, running a bar of soap from his balls up the crack of his ass? Was he, as I feared, infecting me? Did his effect build over time? Was there some critical mass being reached in my bloodstream which would leave me totally invulnerable to his...critical mass? I tore my eyes away from the scene, and continued to mop. Finished with the day's chores, I left the complex on my way to the car. Dan fell in with me on the path between the buildings. "Heya." "Howdy," he said, walking me to my car. "You coming with?" I asked. "Yep." We got in the car, and I pulled out. "Had a good time last night," I said. "Would love a rematch." "Maybe sometime," he said, staring out the window at the forest passing by. "You're a good player." "Just fair, actually," he said. "No, really. You played an excellent game last night." "No, I'm just an intermediate. Somewhat above average. I'm not that good." "Aw, c'mon," I said, "none of this false modesty." "It's not false modesty," he said, matter-of-factly, "it's accurate. That's how well I play. Intermediate. I'm not that good. You just suck at it." "Pardon?" I laughed. "You suck at chess." "I do?" "Yes." "I suck at chess?" "Is that so hard for you to believe?" he asked, turning to face me as I drove. I thought about it. I never really learned how to play formally, and never really practiced. The last time I played a game was probably when I was a freshman, and never against opponents who were, themselves guaranteed to be good. I had just assumed I'd be good at it. But there was something else going on here more interesting to me than the fact that I had just realized that I probably did, indeed, suck at chess. Dan had told me I sucked, and it didn't bother me. I wasn't offended, my feelings were not hurt. That kind of statement usually rankled me. A lot! So why hadn't it bothered me when Dan had said it? It wasn't just that he was right, that's for sure. I found myself getting pissed at people all the time for criticisms whether they were accurate or not. The trick with criticism is the manner in which it's given, not the content. And yet, Dan had put it so starkly. He hadn't even been polite about it! Why was I not bothered? "I guess I do," I said, smiling. He smiled back. "Man, I had to create little games for myself just to keep myself entertained." "Really?" "Please," he said, turning back to watch the trees, "checkmate with three pawns? I had most of my pieces on the board." "Oh," I said. "Good point. I guess you could have done that more easily, huh?" "Probably 4 moves after I took your queen. But I was enjoying the conversation." It didn't sound like he was bragging. Maybe that was it. He was just stating the truth. I remembered my impression the night before about the difference between arrogance and accurate self-image. Maybe Dan really had a good sense of what he was good at, like he said, and that came through in his interactions. Something about him was special. It would do me well, I thought, to figure it out. I already trusted him, and I had only had one conversation. We drove on in silence for a mile, enjoying the pines in the dappled, late afternoon light. "So, are you as good at everything else as you are at chess?" I asked. "Naw," he said. "I suck at plenty of things myself." "Yeah? Like what?" He shrugged, still looking out the window. "I can't spell for shit," he said, "and I suck at math. And I can't dance at all..." "You can't dance?!" I asked, amazed. "Nope." "That makes no sense! You're so graceful!" "That's in the gym. On the dance floor, I end up looking like a total dork." "I can't believe it." "Nevertheless," he said, evenly, with neither shame nor embarrassment, "I can't do it." We fell silent again. This guy was so interesting! "So, Magnusson, right? You Icelandic?" "Norwegian," he said. "Funny, you don't look Norwegian - dark hair and all." "My whole family's this way. There's some Sami in there, we think." "Some Sami?" "Yeh. They're the Laplanders up North. They're dark." "Cool. So, a Viking, eh?" "Something like that." "You gonna rape and pillage me?" I asked. "Careful what you wish for," he said. I laughed, until I realized I was the only one in the car laughing. In the town, Dan stayed in the car listening to the radio while I went into the pharmacy, the supermarket, the McDonald's. Almost all the boys had asked for something - mostly sundries - except Doug who had wanted a Big Mac value meal. I bought all the things with the cash that Johnston had given me, threw them in the back seat and headed off back toward camp. Again, we drove without talking for a few miles, listening instead to the pop music on the radio. "Can I ask you a question?" I finally said, still a little ways from the camp. "Shoot." "You really think Adam is a good judge of character?" "Absolutely." "What does he think of me?" "I don't know," he said, "ask him" "I don't think he likes me very much." "Why not?" "Well," I said, pausing, trying to find the words, "he doesn't treat me very well." "That surprises me." "It does? He didn't treat Corey very well. Do you know about that?" "What, you mean fucking him?" "Yeah. I mean, when he was 14." "I didn't know him then. I only got here last year." "Still," I said, "you think he's changed that much in 3 years?" Dan shrugged. "Prolly not." "So you think that was treating him well?" Dan shrugged again. "It's none of my business. I'll tell you this, though. Corey can be a little shit. He's much better when Adam is around." "Adam hit me, you know," I said, daring to share. "Did you deserve it?" he asked, nonchalantly. "No one ever deserves to be hit," I replied, angered at the suggestion. "Did you want it, then?" "Why would I want to get hit?!" "Did it get you off?" I replied with furious silence, surprised that the window was not fogging up with the steam that must have been coming off my forehead. Dan looked over and studied me for a minute, then went back to beating his thighs along to the music. When we got to the compound, I went to get the supplies out of the back of the car, but Dan stopped me, and told me to follow him. "I really should deliver these," I complained. "Can't it wait?" "This'll just take a second," he said, heading off toward the gym without checking to make sure I had fallen in behind him. When we got there, he turned on the lights and led me onto the gym floor, bringing me over to the trampoline. "Hop up," he said, and when I did, he jumped up and joined me. The trampoline had a harness rigging above it, suspended from stiff elastic cords which were themselves attached to high, vertical struts on either side of the apparatus. The boys used the harness when practicing new tumbling moves, which were invariably born on the trampoline. Dan directed me to the center of the equipment, and began strapping the harness around my waist. "You ever been on a trampoline before?" "Not since I was a little kid," I said, remembering going over to a friend's house in elementary school and jumping on the one he had in his back yard. "Ever been in the harness?" "Nope," I said, thinking that this was not the time to be making a gay joke. "Y'all seen us in it, right?" "Sure," I said. "You practice your tumbling moves in it." "That's right," he said, completing the process of strapping me into and adjusting it. "You feel how tight it is? Test the elastics. See how you can't fall to the left or right?" I leaned over, feeling, indeed, that that straps would keep me centered on the trampoline. Trusting the rigging a little more, I leaned farther, reaching about 45 degrees before the stretch in the rubber began to pull me back. I nodded at him. "Try to reach the edge of the trampoline," he instructed. I took a step toward the heavily padded, wide, blue lip of the apparatus, feeling the harness begin to disagree with my decision. I leaned my weight into it, and tried to use the friction between my feet and the stretched material on which I was walking as an ally. I got almost there - just a few inches away - before the rigging took over, and bounced me back to center. "I can't," I said. "Right. You can't get to the edge in the harness. You understand that?" I nodded. "Okay," he said, "jump. Jump as high as you can go. Stay in the middle of the trampoline." He retreated to the edge, leaving me alone on the taut surface. I bent my knees, and began to jump, timing my knee springs to the nadir of the trampoline's stretch. Weighing twice as much as the last time I had been on one of these toys, I surprised myself by how quickly I attained height. Soon I was ascending four, six, eight feet off the trampoline. Each time I was about to land, I spread my legs to give myself a wider, more stable base on which to balance. As I rose, my feet naturally came together, where they stayed until I was about to land again. "How's that?" I asked, feeling the childlike thrill of amusement parks and kickball. "Good," he said. "Now, keep jumping that high, but only land on one leg, and aim for a place a couple feet off-center." I laughed. "You can't be serious! I'll go flying. I may suck at chess, but I got physics down well enough. If I aim for the side of the trampoline, I'll bounce in the opposite direction, right over the edge." I continued bouncing, two-legged, centered. "But you got the harness on. You can't fall off the apparatus. It will pull you back," he said. "You're nuts. I weigh 170. I'll go over, and break my neck." Bounce. "You felt how stiff it was, right?" "Sure, but..." bounce. "So you understand that you're safe." "Yeah, but..." bounce. "And you've seen us fuck up while connected to it, and none of us have gotten hurt." "Yeah..." bounce. "Good. So you understand perfectly that you won't get hurt. Now bounce off-center." "Okay," I said, half-heartedly. "I'll do it on three. One," bounce. "Two," bounce. "Three," bounce. I went up high and came down fully intending to aim off center and land with one leg. But at the last moment, my left leg shot out, joining my right directly in the middle of the rectangle of material. "Okay. This time for sure," I said. "Ready," bounce. "Go," bounce. Bounce. Bounce. I was still centered, still two-legged. "Do it," he said, in a commanding voice. "I'm trying," I said, laughing nervously. "Okay. One...two...three...ready...go!...four...five." "Do it," he said again. "It's not so easy!" "But you understand perfectly that it's safe." "Okay!" I tried again and again, to no avail. I kept bouncing vertically. My legs would just not do it. On one of the ways down, without warning, Dan took a step out onto the trampoline and pushed me forcibly to the left just before I landed. I screamed as I hit the trampoline, visions of spending the rest of my life as a paraplegic flashing before my eyes. I bounced off at a 60-degree angle, heading in a high arc that would bring me well over the edge of the apparatus onto the hard, neck-breaking floor. I was well beyond mere fear - my arms and legs flailed in wild terror, my scream turned more to a shriek. But as Dan had predicted, as I had cognitively understood it would, the harness took hold, and jerked me back toward safety. I overshot the center, but not by much, and landed on the fabric unharmed, knees bent to keep from rebounding. Maintained as I was by the harness, I tried to regain my balance and stand of my own accord, but my knees would not support me. I was panting, still, in panic, and as the shakes began to consume my body, Dan took a step over to me and placed my arm around his shoulder to support me. He unstrapped the harness from my waist, and I fell into him, leaning on his side. "You okay?" he asked gently. "You're an asshole," I said, angrily. "Had to prove a point." "What point?!" "Your head can understand all it wants. But if your body's not on board, it ain't gonna happen." "Huh?" "You *understood* that you wouldn't get hurt. Your brain *knew*. But your body wasn't ready to trust the harness. What your brain wants and what your body needs aren't the same thing all the time. And your body is always going to win, Mark," he said. "It doesn't matter what you want. You get what you *need*." I looked into his face. He was supporting my full weight, his arm around my waist, mine over his shoulder, holding onto the round mound of his deltoid muscle. His eyes were kind, supportive, blue rings accenting blue fields. He smiled at me. "You okay?" he asked again. "Yeh," I said, thinking about what he had just said. "Think so." "Let's get off this thing." "Oh, do let's!" I tried to take a step, but my knees were still wobbly. He walked me over to the edge of the trampoline, holding me, making sure I did not fall. When we got to the side, he helped me sit, hopped off onto the floor, took me by the waist, and lowered me to the ground. I slid down his front as he helped me stand - his rock solid, curvaceous, long front. At once I was Bette Davis to his Paul Henrid. Looking up into his eyes, I forgot my fear, and smiled coyly. "You ready?" He asked. "Um hum," I said, hoping I knew what he meant. But he turned us to face toward the door, and side-by-side, with his arm still at my waist, he walked me out of the gym.

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Nifty Archive: balls [ Nifty Archive : Gay Male | Bisexual | Lesbian | Trans ] Chronological Directory Listing for balls

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Date: Mon, 1 Jan 2001 22:17:18 -0800 (PST) From: writtenbypsb Subject: Authoritarian - Balls, Part 1 BALLS - CHAPTER ONE By Stephen Nikolai I'll begin with the usual warnings. If you're under 18, go away. If you're not into homosexuality, bondage, and light s/m, then why are you here? Go away. If you enjoy the story, let me know. If not, then don't read the follow-ups. This is a fictional story-no, I don't know any gay baseball players, I've never slept with any baseball players, and I sure as hell never played ball. The "I" in this story ain't me. But thanks for thinking it might be. For David. When I signed the contract to write my memoirs, I decided just to take the money and let the ghostwriter handle it. But Juan said I should start from the beginning and tell it my own way. After all, I was an English major in college, I should know how to tell about what happened. So here goes. I started playing baseball when I was eight or nine, just playing with kids on the street in the suburb where I grew up. My parents both worked, I was an only child, and I had to amuse myself most afternoons. Turned out I was good at baseball. I figured out I was gay not long after that, when I noticed that the boys around me were turning into men and I liked watching them. In junior high, in gym class, I wandered around with my hard-on showing until the gym teacher took me aside and explained why that wasn't a good idea. (So that's why all those guys avoided me after gym class.) I had my first experience with another man when I was fifteen years old. And it wasn't just two young boys jerking off-this was the big time, real man-to-man sex, with a few kinks thrown in. See, about the time I figured out I was gay, I figured out I was into bondage. I liked watching TV shows like "Dukes of Hazzard" and "Six Million Dollar Man," not for the plots or the acting, but for the million ways the guys got bound and gagged. Then I'd go to bed, think about those scenes, and jerk myself off. But I knew, thanks to finding my mother's sex manuals, that wanting to be tied up was weird, even if you're gay, so I kept that to myself. Yet it never went away. When I got into high school (and stopped getting hard-ons in the locker room), I got on the baseball team, as a shortstop, no less. I wasn't much of a hitter, so the coach was always giving me extra batting practice. And let me tell you about Coach Mario. He was about 29, slender, muscular, maybe 5'10", with dark hair, thick sideburns, and a massive Fu Manchu mustache that grew down to his chin and made him look tough. (This was in '85, before everyone started growing goatees.) He became the star of all my jerkoff fantasies the day we met. Anyway, one April morning I was having a terrible time batting, and the rest of the team was getting pissed at having to wait for me to finish when Coach Mario said, "You know what, Andrew? Your legs are too far apart. Stand up straight." I tried, I really tried, but for some reason my instinct was to spread my legs wide at the plate. Probably some handsome baseball player on TV did the same thing and I was imitating him. I don't remember. Mario gave up on me and we went on to something else. But he took me aside after practice and asked me if I was busy after school. I said no, so he told me to meet him on the practice field at two-thirty, right after my last class. The thought of time alone with Coach Mario really turned me on. Mario was a great guy, all the players loved him. He was affectionate with us, quick to put an arm around your shoulder, very Italian. And very sexy. I was in shape, not very tall yet, only just beginning to shave, and in awe of such a manly man as Coach Mario. And a little scared. When I showed up on the practice field at 2:30, he gave me a hug. "Did you think I was pissed at you, Andrew?" "Yeah," I said. "Or at least frustrated." "I know how tough it is to learn stuff. Maybe we'll make you a pitcher-you've got one hell of an arm. But in the meantime, you have to learn to hit, and I have an idea. Take the bat and stand at the plate the way you usually do." I followed his instructions, not sure what he was up to. Then I saw what he was taking out of his athletic bag: a piece of rope. Instantly my heart jumped and my cock stirred. What the hell was he doing? He walked toward me and must have seen the fear (and the lust) in my eyes. "Relax," he said. "Just stand there." I stood in the batter's box, feeling stupid. I took a swing. He shook his head. "You'll get this. Watch." He took the rope and tied one end of it around my left ankle. Then he grasped my right leg and told me to let him position me. He moved my right foot a few inches closer to my left foot, then tied the other end of the rope around my left ankle. By now I was hugely erect, but if he noticed, he didn't say anything. "Okay," he said, seeming a little out of breath. "Take a few swings." I did, and immediately I understood. He threw me a few pitches, and I hit them solidly. My cock stayed hard, but I wasn't really aware of it. I was paying attention to the bat and the ball and memorizing the position. Whenever I tried to spread my legs, the rope pulled taut, and my cock jolted, but after a few minutes I wasn't testing it. I was solid in the stance. Coach Mario smiled at me, then came over and ruffled my blond hair. "See, I knew you could get it. Let's try a few without the rope." He bent over to untie the rope. If he noticed my erection, he was too polite to say so. He went back out to the mound and threw me a few more pitches. I could feel the rope as if it were still around my ankles, and I stayed in my new stance, hitting the ball consistently all over the infield. Mario came over to me after about fifteen minutes and lifted me in another bear hug. "You got it, kiddo! Finally! Think you can remember that?" "Sure, Coach." "All right. I know you missed your bus. Your parents need a phone call?" "Nah, they're at work. They don't get home till about six." Mario offered me a lift home. Once we were in his car, though, he said, "Listen, would you like to come to my house till dinnertime? We could work some more on that stance, if you want, or just talk about stuff. I don't have anything else going on." To be invited to Coach's house was beyond thrilling. I nodded yes and went to his car. On the way we talked about the team. I told him of my desire to play major league baseball someday, and he looked at me carefully. "If you learn to hit, Andrew, you could do it." "Maybe I should be a pitcher," I joked. "Maybe you should. You've got a hell of an arm. Let's think about that. Here we are," he said, pulling into the driveway of a small house. We got out of the car and went inside. He offered me a soft drink, but I was too nervous. "So what would you like to do?" he asked. "Maybe we could practice some more," I said softly. "If I need to learn to hit, I could work on that stance." I wasn't sure Coach understood what I was trying to say until he took me out to his garage, handed me a bat, and then took out a piece of rope. "You need this still?" "Yeah." I was half hard already, and my voice was raspy. I was scared, I didn't know what I was doing, but I wanted to feel that way again. Coach positioned me, then tied the rope around my ankles as he had at school. I tested the rope, then took a few practice swings. He put his arms around me from behind, those huge hairy arms that dwarfed mine, and helped me swing. I could feel his mustache brushing the back of my neck and the warmth of his body against mine. After a while, he asked, "You getting it?" "I think so." "Or do you need some help with the grip? Maybe you need some help holding your hands together?" He faced me and looked carefully in my eyes. Oh, yes, he knew exactly what I wanted, and he wanted it too. "Yes, Coach." "Come on inside, then. It's getting a little cool out here." It wasn't a bit cool, in fact it was blisteringly hot, but I followed his instructions. He led me into the living room and took the bat out of my hands. Then he took out another piece of rope. I held my hands out in front of me as if holding the bat. "Is this the right grip?" I asked. "Just right," he said. He was breathless too, and I could see a little sweat trickling down his forehead. He knelt before me, gave me another careful look in the eyes, then smiled and tied my hands together in front of me, tightly, securely, but not in a way that hurt. In fact, I had never felt more comfortable in my life. "Let me fix this one too," he said, and untied my ankles, this time tying them together as tightly as he could. When he finished, my cock was raging hard against my pants, and I could see that he was excited too. I had no idea what to do next. Coach sat next to me on the couch and kissed my forehead. "Let me tell you something before we continue this lesson," he said calmly. "If anyone finds out what's going on here, we would both get in a lot of trouble. I could get fired, not to mention going to jail. You would probably be in deep shit with your parents and the school. You'd be made fun of, maybe beaten up. And you'd never get to the major leagues, that's for damn sure. So this is our secret, okay?" "Okay." "Have you ever done this before?" "No. Nothing. With anyone." He reached out and stroked my cheek tenderly. "You're gonna love it," he said. He kissed me on the lips this time, gently, his thick mustache brushing against my face. I was totally falling in love with him. "Now come here," he growled, getting to his feet. I tried to stand but couldn't. He laughed, then picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me into the bedroom. I trusted him. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I did. He laid me down on his big bed with its dark blue sheets, pulled my sneakers off, and told me to make myself comfortable. "As comfortable as you can, anyway," he said, putting a pillow under my head. Then he took off his coach's whistle and black polo shirt, revealing a truly amazing body with a flat stomach, bulging biceps and pecs, all of it covered in thick, curly black hair. He wore a large gold cross around his neck, nestled in all that hair, and I wished I were the Christ on that cross for a moment. He even had a dusting of fur on his shoulders, which turned me on. My cock was still hard, leaking precum into my briefs, and I tried to breathe properly. Mario sat on the bed next to me and took out a couple more pieces of rope. He pulled my bound hands up over my head and tied them to the headboard, then tied the rope around my ankles to the footboard. I was stretched out full, even straining a little on his king-size bed. I assumed he was going to gag me, but he didn't. Instead he kissed me again, a full, romantic kiss that made me tingle. "I didn't know men could kiss each other," I said. "What a stupid idea!" he said. "Tell me if I do something you don't like. I want you to enjoy yourself." "I am." He unbuttoned my shirt and ran his hands across my chest and stomach. I was in pretty good shape, worked out, played ball, but nothing like him. I had a few scattered hairs on my chest and was hoping for more, but he didn't care. He stretched himself out on top of me and nuzzled my neck, kissed my chest, and licked and sucked my nipples. I was going crazy, mostly because I couldn't respond in kind. I felt his hard, hairy body against mine, and it felt great, but I couldn't do anything. Then he unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my ankles. He rubbed my legs, from my ankles up to my ass, then back again. I was warming to his touch, and I wiggled and squirmed in the ropes. He didn't touch my cock, even to pull down my briefs. Instead, he got up off the bed and undressed, removing his shoes, socks, and jeans. He wore no underwear, not even a jockstrap, and I swore off briefs then and there. His cock seemed huge, thick and swollen as it reached out of his intensely hairy groin. I wanted to touch it, to jerk him off, but I knew he didn't want me to. He looked at me tenderly, then said again, "Are you okay? Comfortable? I want you to be." "I'm great," I croaked. He came back to the bed and knelt over me, one leg on either side of my bound young body. His cock was above my face, too far away for me to touch, but close enough so I could feel it and smell it. It was sweaty and manly and I wanted it so much. Mario rubbed it with his hand, then touched it gently to my lips. I kissed it. He rubbed his cock against my lips again, and I tried to take it in my mouth, but he didn't want that. He teased me again, rubbing his cock back and forth over my open mouth, then pulling it away. Then he pulled back, scooting away on his knees, till he was straddling my chest. He rubbed his cock against my stomach muscles, and they tensed to the warmth. I moaned. I wanted to yell out, but I knew that wasn't going to help. Instead I struggled against my ropes, and Mario knew I was going crazy. So he turned away, turning his furry, tight ass to me as he finally slid my briefs down to my ankles. He stroked my legs again, then finally turned his attention to my cock. "Wow," he said, licking the head gently. I felt like I was about to explode, but Mario told me to relax and think about other things. He sucked me tenderly, his cock brushing my lips. I sucked him too, but he pulled out of my mouth. I felt his hairy body on top of me as he took me deeper into his mouth. Finally I shot my load in his mouth, the biggest load I could ever remember. When I finally finished, he turned around and smiled at me. "Taste this," he said, and kissed me, feeding my own cum back to me in the kiss. It was wonderful. "You want me now?" he asked. And we did the same thing. He gave me his cock now, fucked my face hard, and shot his load quickly. I'd never had a cock in my mouth before. He tasted sweaty, and I nearly choked on his big dick, but when he came it was sweet and warm. I saved it for him, and he kissed me again, his tongue against mine as he took his cum back. "I could let you go now," he whispered as he lay on top of me, his mustache brushing my ear, "or do you want to get fucked?" "Fuck me," I said. "Please don't untie me." He bit my earlobe, then got up off the bed. He untied my ankles from the foot of the bed, but left them tied together. He bent my legs up till I was nearly double, then started finger-fucking me. First one, then two, then three. I was moaning and growling nonstop now. Mario reached over, took some bandanas from the nightstand drawer, and showed them to me. "I gotta concentrate." "Do it," I said breathlessly. He stuffed two of the bandanas into my mouth and tied a third one around my face to gag me. I moaned into the gag to test it, but all that came out was a muffled "mmmmmph!" I looked at Mario happily, and he smiled back. His cock was hard and standing far out from his body. He took out a condom and put it on, then knelt on the bed. "This is gonna hurt, Andrew, but you're gonna love it." He pushed my legs up again, putting a pillow under my ass, then stuck his head between my tied legs. He lubed my asshole quickly, then entered me with the head of his cock. It hurt like hell, but he was right: I loved it. I struggled, but I didn't want him to stop. He entered me further, fucking me harder and harder. Once he had the whole cock inside me, he let it rest so I could get used to having him there. He stroked my chest and stomach and rubbed my legs. I was hard as hell. Finally he gently began fucking me, then harder and harder. I moaned into my gag as loudly as I could. And when he came inside me, I came too, shooting all over the both of us. By then it was almost five-thirty. I'd been tied up for over two hours! Mario untied and ungagged me, kissed me again, and helped me get myself together. "Can we do this again?" I asked. "You bet," Mario said. "Every day, if you want." And for the rest of my high school days, Mario was my best friend, coach, and lover. He made one hell of a ballplayer out of me, and one hell of a bottom boy, too. When I graduated, I wanted to keep in touch with him, but he said, "Andrew, you're gonna meet other men who are a hell of a lot better than me. And you're gonna play in the majors. So I hope you remember me forever, 'cause I'm gonna remember you. But it's time to move on." That last time before I left for college, he tied me to a tree in his backyard late at night and fucked my brains out, not caring who might see us. I've never forgotten you, Mario. But there have been a few other men since.

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Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2001 21:37:15 -0400 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 36 Chapter 36: Cracking the Code The morning broke warm, dry, and clear. It was Sunday, the weather was delightful, and we had the afternoon off. People were in a good mood. When I got to the dining hall for breakfast, the table was already half full. Shmu and Matt entered together shortly thereafter, the latter whistling like a Dwarf on his way to work. "Well," said Brad to Doug as I put my tray down and sat at the table, "here's the gofer. Maybe he can pick you up something." "What's up?" I asked. "It's Doug. He's horny," "Oh," agreed Doug moaning into his stack of pancakes, "I got it bad." "Well, it'll be a sacrifice," I said dramatically, "but anything to help a friend." "No offense, guy, but you don't got what I need," Doug said plaintively. "And what would that be?" "Titties," said Brad. "Dougy want him some titties." "Dougy want titties," Doug echoed. "I remember the first time I did a girl," I said. "I was absolutely fascinated by her breasts. Unfortunately, that was pretty much all I was fascinated by. I started poking them to see if I could get a wave interference pattern going. When I suggested seeing how many pennies I could stack up on them, she drew the line." "You been with a girl?" Doug asked, surprised. "Yeah, why?" "I thought you were gay." I shrugged. "You're straight, right?" "Oh, yeah," he said. "But you've been with guys. What's the diff?" Doug actually blushed, and there was suddenly an uncomfortable silence at the table. I started looking around at faces wondering what was up, but Brad continued and the mood returned to lightheartedness. "First girl I was ever with was this chick named Tammy. I'm a junior in high school, right? She's a senior, and she gets me over her house and does the 'you want a massage?' thing. I was fucking clueless. The next thing I know, she's bouncing on my dick like there's no tomorrow. I came in about eight seconds." "I didn't know you had to move," said Steven. "Huh?" "I was clueless too. I was fifteen, and I didn't know you had to move. I never read anywhere that you had to move. I just thought you just put it in, and...I don't know...that was it." The boys laughed. "'Well, son,'" Steve added, imitating, I assumed, his father, "'the daddy puts his penis in the mommy's vagina, and that's where babies come from.' So I put it in, you know? But he never said, 'and then you pump her like a piston.' Definitely an important piece to leave out!" The boys pounded on the table in hysterics. "And what about the first time you went down on a girl?" Drew added when they were able, again, to catch their breath. "Now, *there's* an acquired taste!" Brad said. "I almost puked the first time," Drew continued. "I actually spit when I came up for air. I was totally grossed out." "Not me, man," said Doug. "I loved pussy juice from the start." "My first time was great," said Corey. "Yeah?" asked Steve, incredulously, "how old were you?" "Twelve." "It doesn't count if you're alone, Corey," said Steve, to general laughter. "I wasn't alone," Corey returned, defensively. "I was with Arlene Mancuso. She had these great big bazongas. I got her up to my room and I did her." Everyone had something to say at once, from Doug's insistence that Corey still had his cherry to Drew's mere "Bullshit," to Steve's suggestion that Arlene was a blow-up doll. "Wait a minute," I said, trying to quiet them down, "wait a minute. I just have one question...." When the uproar subsided and I had the floor, I turned, solemnly, to Corey, and said, in as appalled a voice as I could manage, "'Bazongas?!'" The table exploded again with laughter and accusation. Corey insisted that he had lost his virginity at twelve while Doug, Brad, Steve, Matt and Drew heaped abuse on him. Finally, Steven hushed everyone to silence. "So you did it at twelve, huh?" he asked. "Yeah," declared Corey. "Did you find her pooty?" Corey looked at him blankly. "You know," Steve said, "her pooty. That hard thing inside her vagina about half way in on the bottom - the one that rubs against the bottom of your dick and makes it feel so good?" "Yeah," said Corey, dismissively. "Of course. I just didn't know what it was called." "That's because I just made it up, dipwad," said Steven. The boys exploded again in derision. The taunts went on for another minute. "That's enough," said Dan finally. "If the boy said he lost his cherry at twelve, then he lost his cherry at twelve." To my shock, the pack backed down. Dan had said it was enough, so it was. On the way over to the gym after eating, Matt ran up next to me and draped his arm over my shoulders. "Heya, amigo." "Howdy," I said. "You're in a good mood this morning, huh? Pleasant night last night?" "Yeah," he giggled, "pretty pleasant. Listen, wanted to thank you for setting me up with Shmu." "That asshole! He wasn't supposed to say anything!" Matt stopped walking, pulling me to a halt next to him. "He didn't," he said. "Then how did you know?" "I'm not stupid, you know." I looked at his face. He was earnestness incarnate. I smiled. "No, you're not," I allowed honestly. "Just pretty." I laughed. "You're certainly that!" He started forward again, pulling me along with him. Matt tended to bounce when he walked, Lifting up a little on the balls of his feet as he moved forward. It was like walking next to Tigger. His arm across my shoulders fit comfortably, despite the spring in his step. "You want to join us tonight?" he asked. How had I ever gotten myself into a situation where I might actually answer no to a question like that?! Yet I had. My ass was so stretched out from the frolic of the night before that I was seriously considering fasting for a day just as a precaution. And it was still sore from the pummeling of the night before that, though the bruises had already faded to the point that it had ceased to look like sunset over the Pacific. And then there was the question of appropriateness and, I supposed, permission. "I dunno, Matt," I said. "Let's play it by ear, okay?" "Okay," he said, and we bounced on a few steps. "So what's up with Dan?" he asked. "What do you mean?" "Something's different," he said. "That thing at breakfast was weird." My antennae were up instantly. Had Matt noticed it too? "Weird?" "Yeah. Don't you think?" "What did you find weird about it?" I asked. "Well, not just that he was defending Corey, which was pretty weird in itself." "What then?" "I dunno," he said. "There was something about him this morning. It's just...weird." "Like Adam weird?" He thought about it for a few steps. "Yeah," he said. "Kinda like that." He *had* noticed it. I spent my morning in the gym in serious work. While the boys took their Sunday practice with their usual grain of salt, I sat in the stands writing furiously in my little green notebook. Dan *was* different, and the difference was both clinically noticeable and, more importantly, measurable. I pored back over my notes for instances of where I had transcribed Dan's behaviors from earlier in the summer. Yes. They were different. More importantly - more tellingly - the boys were reacting to him differently. It was subtle, but it was there. I spent an hour and a half in uninterrupted transcription of non-verbal behavioral moves - both Adam's and Dan's, now - into my notes. By 10:30, I had been hunched over the notebook for so long I had difficulty straightening up. This was usually a good sign for me - it meant I had been productive. But even though I had a growing corpus of data, I was still missing the key to how to interpret it. I had the full five hundred pieces of the five hundred-piece puzzle, and I knew what the picture on the box looked like. What was missing were the edges. I couldn't seem to construct the neat, straight-edged rectangle of outer pieces into which the rest of the puzzle fit. My back hurt, so to stretch it out, I decided to take a break and walk over to the dorm to retrieve the two large sacks of laundry from Dan and Adam's room. It had become clear to me that the two of them subscribed to the straight male Hamper Theory, in which one actually believes that leaving clothes that you've worn once too often in the hamper for a week somehow makes them magically clean. They weren't going to do their own laundry, assuming, I suppose, that some little fairy would swoop in and do it for them. Walking back to the laundry room in the gym with the two overstuffed bags, I laughed at this thought. They had gotten their wish. The gym laundry had industrial sized machines. I could do both boys' loads at once. I wound my way through the complex. Down the hall, into the locker room past the bathroom, where a sound stopped me dead in my tracks. From one of the stalls in the bathroom I heard easy, joyous, unmistakably familiar, muffled hysterical laughter. When I got back to the stands after throwing the laundry in the machines, Shmu was sitting there, still a little red-cheeked. "You are a dawg," I said. "What?!" "I heard you in there." "Oh," he said and smiled wickedly. "You're fucking unreal." "What?! You say do Matt? I do Matt! Shmu follow orders good." I laughed. "You know, you shouldn't have said that about Doug this morning," Shmu said. His seriousness caught me off guard. "Huh?" "That he does guys." "Why not? He did me a couple of times. Everyone knows. It's no big deal. I *said* he was straight, didn't I?" "It *is* a big deal," Shmu said. "What, that I blew him? No it isn't. I've blown half the team. Like I said. They all know." "No, not that you blew him. That you talked about it in front of the team." "Why? They all know." "Doesn't matter." "What?" "Look," Shmu said, taking a moment to figure out how to proceed, "I know how guys think..." "I beg your pardon?" "Get over yourself," he said. "You know how queers think. I know how guys think. Now shut up and learn something." I pursed my lips and stared at him somewhat angrily. "It doesn't matter who you are, and it doesn't matter what you do. You can be gay, you can be a fucking ax murderer. But when you're with the team, there's an expectation about how you can and can't behave and what you can and can't say." "The guys joke about doing each other all the time," I said dismissively. "You're not getting the point, Mark. Listen. They can joke about it. Even you can joke about it with them. But...like there's a difference between joking about a guy having a small dick, and actually telling people that he really does. Does that make sense?" "Talk more." It was starting to. "Guys can joke about screwing girls and they can joke about being in love with girls. But you never hear a guy on a team saying that he's really in love - I mean, head over heels in love - with a girl. Not in front of the team. They'll tell you that one-on-one, or with a small group of their friends, but not in front of the whole team. It's not what you talk about when the team is together. It's just a rule." "So the fact that Doug and I have talked about it in front of other guys doesn't matter?" "Was it the whole team?" I thought back. "It was Brad and Adam and Dan, I think." "They're his friends." "And the fact that I did Doug *with* Brad doesn't matter?" "Nope," he said, "but I'd love to hear about that." I smiled and punched him playfully in the arm. "I didn't write the rules," Shmu said. "I just know 'em. And rule number one is on a team, you can *be* gay, you can *do* gay, but you can't *talk* about doing gay." "That's bizarre." Shmu shrugged. "It's the way it is. Have any of them ever talked seriously about messing around with you when the whole team was together?" "Yeah," I said, "I really think they have." "Seriously? Not jokingly?" I thought back. Hard. "Actually," I said, "No, I think they haven't. Not seriously." "There you go, then." I looked out over the gym. Steven, the reader, was spotting for Corey, whom he'd tormented, on the vault. He had just ripped the kid a new asshole, but now was helping him with a move which, if Corey missed and Steven wasn't there to catch him, could result in serious and irreversible damage. Matt and Adam were joking around together on the parallel bars - the latter having done to me exactly what I had done to the former. Except it took me three weeks to figure out that Adam was setting me up with Dan, and Matt only three days to figure out I was setting him up with Shmu. Who was it who had thought these boys universally shallow and stupid when he first met them? Oh, right. That had been me. "So what's with all the scribbling?" Shmu had my notebook open in his lap. "Research." "Right," he said, scoffing. "What research? How to get fucked by an entire team?" "I have *not* been fucked by the entire team," I said indignantly, grabbing the notebook from him. Shmu raised his eyebrows at me. "I have only been fucked by *half* the team. And honey," I added, doing my best impersonation of Tallulah Bankhead, "I was fabulous." He laughed. Funny how I just naturally assumed the role of a bottom when I was with him. I had always fancied myself as entirely versatile, matching my sexual practices to the partner I had been with. With Alex I had always topped. With John it had been 60-40, usually depending on his mood. But with Shmu I had only bottomed and when around him, I just naturally fell into the excesses of Bottom Camp. "I told you about this," I said, returning to seriousness. "It's for my diss. I'm studying power dynamics among men." "You didn't need to go all the way to the mountains for that," he said, grabbing my crotch playfully. "You got the Shmuster right in your own back yard." I removed his hand from my crotch as if I found its presence there highly insulting. "I've had the Shmuster in my backyard," I said, haughtily. "Been there, been done by that. Yawn, yawn." He laughed. "I don't remember any yawning. Yelling? Yes. Yawning? No." "If we were two different people," I said, "we'd be perfect for each other." "Yeah," he said somewhat wistfully. I all but saw his hair wave in the breeze as the absurdity of my statement flew over his head. Would Shmu have been a good model for my research? No. He wasn't an alpha. He was truly charismatic, but not an alpha. He was a great top to be sure, but not an alpha. What was the difference, I wondered, between a Dan or an Adam and him? I reacted to the three of them in similar ways - ways that I never reacted to other men. How curious that was. What did it mean? Shmu was talking, I realized. He was airing his suspicions that the majority of the team was really gay. Shmu thought everyone was gay. No, that wasn't true. Shmu thought everyone he thought was hot was gay. This was the first step in his adding them to his list of conquests. The bitch of it was that regardless of whether they were or weren't, he could usually manage to hook up with them. It was a gift. I had never known how he did it. "I can tell you, though," he was saying when I tuned into his words, "my gaydar is going off big time." "Maybe you should have your pinger adjusted," I said. "That's what I'm *trying* to do!" he returned, smiling. "How does your gaydar work, anyway? I mean, you pick up on guys I never would, and I thought mine was pretty well developed." I didn't expect an intelligent response. Real tops were never articulate enough to be able to describe things. It made little difference, though. Self-awareness and the ability to articulate were not why they were put on the earth. "You know how to do it," he said. "Just watch who they're watching." In one, sudden, searing flash it came to me. He kept talking but I was instantly gone, blown completely out of the universe by my realization. "Jesus, Mark, are you okay?" "Huh?" "You just turned totally white." "I fucking know how they do it," I said in disbelief. "What the fuck are you talking about, man?" "Alphas," I whispered, my throat suddenly bone dry. "I know how to break the code. I know what to look for."

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/alpha-male/alpha-male-15

Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2001 15:33:41 -0500 From: David Buffet Subject: Alpha Male - Chapter 15 Chapter 15: Lab Results The suitcase was open. I was not packing, I was throwing -- hurling -- my clothes into it. Fuck this, I was thinking. Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this. I'll be fucked if I'm going to let this fucking asshole play with my fucking mind. Fuck him. Fuck. After Adam left, it had taken me close to five minutes to move. When I was finally able to break my eyes away from the door before which I had last seen him, I wept. Uncontrollably. Catharsis? No. It couldn't be. Shame. Humiliation. Impotence. Fury. I was a human, which is to say I was an animal. Fight or flight was taking over. I could not fight him. Fuck the summer. Fuck the pay. Fuck the research. Fuck him. I would not be manipulated. I would not be played with, or worse, toyed with. I would not be struck! I would not be made to feel that this was the way I wanted to be treated. Wait. Was I feeling that this was the way I wanted to be treated? Fuck that. I will not second guess myself. Fuck him. I didn't care if Corey had it coming. I didn't care if some significant part of me took glee in the idea that the retribution for a fag-bashing was the basher getting fucked up the ass. I didn't care if I hadn't seen that coming, or that if it were anyone else, while I would not have approved per se, I would not necessarily have vocally disapproved. He wasn't right. He couldn't be right. I was fucked up? *He* was fucked up! I slammed the suitcase shut, only to have to yank it open again realizing that I hadn't cleaned out my bathroom. I collected my toiletries, and began throwing them onto the bed. The phone rang. Fuck. "What," I said, answering it. "Mark?" "Who's this?" "Mark, are you okay? It's Sharon." "Sharon." I knew the name, of course, but I just couldn't connect it to anyone who would be calling me there at the camp. "Mark, is everything alright? You're scaring me." "Sharon...Sharon!" Of course. It was Sharon! "I'm sorry. I just had a really bad day. How did you get my number?" "Return address on the package you sent. I called the police station in the town. They gave it to me." "You called the police?" She was doing a good job of distracting me from my rage. "Why?" "I had to call you. I had to call you with the results." I began to hear her voice -- really hear it -- for the first time. She was excited. "The results? Oh, right. The results. Cool. What did you find?" "Mark," she said, clearly unable to contain her enthusiasm, "listen. First, we have to get something straight." "Sure. What?" "I want co-authorship rights." "Co-authorship? Sharon, it's for my dis. You can't co-author a dis." There was an electric silence at the other end of the phone. Co-authoring rights? What had she found? "Then Mark -- I want patent rights. Fifty percent." "What?" "Patent rights," she repeated. "I want fifty percent of the patent rights." "Patent rights?" "Mark, you won't believe what I got here." She was giddy. Was she drunk? Her excitement began to be infectious. Patent rights? What could be patented? I sent her a uni and a jock strap. "Patent rights? Sure," I said. "Sure, Sharon. Fine. You got patent rights." "Wait a minute," she said. From the other end of the phone, I heard steps, rummaging, steps again. "I got a tape recorder here. Wait a minute." I heard the click as she apparently turned it on. She said her name. She said the date. She said she was talking to me. She asked if I understood that she was recording the conversation. I told her I did. She said that I had sent her a sample, and had asked her to isolate any compounds she could find. She said that I had agreed to give her fifty percent of the patent rights for the discovery. She asked me if this was correct. "Yes, Sharon," I said, now as curious as I was excited, "fifty percent of the patent rights. Now what the hell did you find?" I heard the tape recorder click off. "You're not going to believe this," she said. "It's full of ER-10s, ER-11s, testosterone cypionate, enanthate, methyl testosterone, basically androgens up the wazoo, and, get this -- there's s DMSO variant that I think is naturally occurring." She was practically screaming into the phone, and talking so quickly that even if I knew the words I would not be able to understand her. "Whoa, there, girl," I said. "Soft scientist here. Small words. Small words. And take a breath, okay?" She laughed. "Okay," she said. "It's so intense, you know? Okay. So here's what happened. You send me this leotard and a jock strap, right?" "It's called a uni." "Whatever. Just shut up and listen. So I pass a solvent through the cloth, and extract the organic molecules, right? Like the sweat and stuff." "Right." "I do a capillary electrophoresis on it..." "Clicks and whistles, Sharon. Speak English." "Sorry. I do a process which separates the different compounds from each other. So now I have a bunch of molecules grouped by type, right? I do a mass spectrometry on them -- that's a way you can figure out what you're looking at once you got it -- and I find ER-10, ER-11..." "Wait, wait. You separate the stuff from the clothes, then you separate the stuff into its component parts. Then you figure out what the component parts are." "Right." "Okay. So what are the component parts?" "That's what I'm telling you." "No TLAs, please." "TLA?" "It's a three-letter-acronym for Three-Letter-Acronym." She laughed. "Okay. The boy is sloughing hormones. Hormones and pheromones, really. In spectacular numbers. Tremendously elevated levels. He's hyperproducing them." "If that were the case, wouldn't we expect to see some clinical manifestations? Serious hypertension at the very least. Too much hair, aggressive behavior, the other effects of hormones in the blood?" "That's just the thing. It's not in the blood. He's sloughing it." "Sloughing?" "It's passing through his skin. He's not storing it. He's *discharging* it. And you want to know how?" She was clearly in her element, and loving it. One could hear the smile over the phone. "Yes. Please do tell." "Well, partner, that's the thing. He's making this DMSO variant." "DMSO?" "Dimethalsulfoxide. It's a solvent. He's making a kind of it naturally. I've never seen it before." "So what?" "It's a transdermal solvent, Mark." "...And that is important to me -- why?" "It's transdermal. It works through the skin. Like the patch. The nicotine patch. They put the nicotine on the patch, right? But how to they get your skin to absorb it. You ever wonder?" "Actually, I never had. I just assumed the nicotine was absorbed through the skin." "No. Skin is a really good semipermeable barrier. It lets sweat out, but almost nothing in. So chemists worked for years -- years, Mark! -- on creating these things called transdermal carriers. They're catalysts that...how can I put this? Not only can they be absorbed by the skin, but they attach themselves to molecules and carry them through the skin too. Do you understand?" "So far, yes." "Ok. There was this one carrier called DMSO. You mix stuff with the DMSO, you touch the DMSO, and�poof! The stuff is absorbed into your body. Pretty good if you want to deliver drugs, right?" "Sure. No pills, no suppositories, no shots." "Right. But the problem was that the carrier was *so* good that it took everything with it. *Everything*. You have a tube of ointment with DMSO in it, right? And you're squeezing out a dab, and it falls on the ground. Touches the baseboard, which has lead paint. You clean it up. Get some on your skin, and boom. You're full of lead paint. You put this shit on a crayon, touch it, and you got crayon coursing through your blood. See why it was withdrawn from the market?" "Yeh. Dangerous. Got it." "So this sample you gave me. I found sweat, salt, normal stuff. I found all the hormones and pheromones. They were easy. But there was one more compound. Couldn't figure out what it was. I finally did an x-ray crystalography on it. That's what took me so long. It turns out that it's pretty fucking close to DMSO. But it's volatile. It's volatile! Do you understand what that means?" "Yes," I said, trying to keep up. "Evaporates quickly. Becomes airborne." "And he's making it. He's making it naturally. And Adam," she said, pausing for dramatic effect, "it's probably worth millions if we can synthesize it." That last bit of information went right by me. Adam was beginning to make sense to me, and that in itself was a treasure. "So what you're telling me is that this guy produces elevated levels of hormones and pheromones, sweats them out so they don't affect him, then, because he's also oozing this DSMO shit..." "DMSO." "Whatever. Because he's oozing this shit, the hormones and pheromones become airborne, and are absorbed by the people *around* him?" "Well, it's a little more complicated in terms of *why* he's sweating them out, but in essence, bingo." "Aren't they also absorbed by him too?" "Yeh, but he's found a way to slough them. So they just come right back out again. You got a freak, here, Mark." "I sure do." "But a freak who will make us rich." The idea of 'rich' still didn't sink in. The idea of 'millions' had not hit its Mark, as it were. The idea of 'deus ex machina' hadn't even reared its ugly heads. Instead, the idea that rang resoundingly through my brain was that I had him. I understood his power. And because I understood it, I could counteract it. I would not be powerless before him. "Is there a cure -- a blocker for it?" "Cure? Fuck that, Mark," she said, "didn't you hear me? We're rich! I'm 23, and I'm going to be rich! Do you know how much pharmaceutical companies will pay for the rights to this? Do you have any idea how important this is? Fuck," she said, "they'll probably compete for it with the NSA! We're rich! Rich, rich, rich! Do you understand?" "I'm beginning to get a clue," I said. "I'm beginning to get a clue." I dreamed that night. In my dream there was a hand. It was *his* hand, callused, large, angry, sweet. It was stroking me. The dream cross-faded in the surreal way only that dreams and Garcia Marquez can manage. Now, I was sucking on it, suckling, taking succor. Another cross-fade, and it was striking me, the sting of contact making me shiver with a terrible satisfaction and desire. Then it was all three at once, the hand somehow stoking, slapping, nursing at the same time. It faded, and I was left with an overpowering emptiness and need. Then *he* was there. Looking at me. Looking into me, in all his arrogant, stunning perfection. He began to walk forward towards me, his gaze never wavering. Closer and closer. My skin presented no barrier. Approaching, he walked *into* me as I absorbed him. Adam was inside me, completing me, making me whole. When he walked through me, passing out behind, I was devastated. Lacking, inadequate, imperfect, unfinished. In my dream, for the second time that night, I wept. I awoke shivering and drenched in sweat. Trying to gain hold of myself, I went into the bathroom to splash water on my face. Looking into the mirror, I desperately tried to escape the meaning of the dream. The reflection that stared back at me was drawn and pale. Well, I thought, there's encouragement in Freud. Even he said, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."