Author: admin

Hi, I’m Julien.

I’m 30 years old, as you may have seen in the story “Four-person Roommate.” I live with Youssef and my two friends, Maxence and Antoine, who moved in with us and helped us renovate the apartment.

We’ve all been living together for a year. Maxence works in a medical analysis lab, Antoine works in IT security, and Youssef works as a salesman in a men’s clothing store. He no longer enjoyed his cold calling job. I’m an administrative assistant for a company in Lyon. We work at quite different hours. The opportunities for the four of us to have sex aren’t every day, but we don’t hold back on weekends.

For some time now, I’ve felt that Youssef has been feeling less and less like having sex, claiming he’s tired or for other reasons. One evening, he went to take a shower before going to sleep. After we all watched a movie in the living room with Antoine’s laptop, Youssef left his phone on the coffee table, and a notification sound rang. Maxence and Antoine looked at their phones: nothing for them, nor for me. I looked at Youssef’s phone and realized it was a Grindr notification informing him of a new message. I couldn’t help myself and said, “Oh, what a bastard! He’s back on Grindr!” “Why? Is that a problem?” Maxence asked. “Yes! It’s a rule we established as soon as we got together: delete Grindr and inform each other if we ever slept with guys…”

 “So… potentially… Youssef is cheating on you!”

“Definitely! But I wouldn’t want to accuse him without knowing.”

 “Wait! Give me my laptop and his phone cable, I should be able to tell you soon.” Antoine runs through the process on his computer and finally says to me:

“Sorry to break it to you, but yes! Your boyfriend has already cheated on you, and with at least three different guys!”

“And then, am I surprised he’s too tired to have sex at night?” I exclaim.

“And what do you plan to do next with Youssef?”

“The only thing I want to do is throw him out!”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Antoine replies.

 “If he didn’t respect that rule, you can leave him!”

“Hey, Maxence, do you have any guys on your soccer team who might be curious about fucking a guy?”

“Certainly two or three guys who might be interested…”

“Okay, that’s perfect! He wants to be a slut! He’s going to be treated like that! Tell them to come over Saturday night after the game!”

“Okay, no worries!”

The week goes on, and I pretend I’m not aware of the situation. Saturday evening arrives and Maxence sends me a message to tell me the game is over and that he’ll be at the apartment in 5 minutes, accompanied by three guys from his team. Antoine is playing on the PS4. I look at Youssef and decide to confront him about what I’ve discovered:

“Hey, Youssef, do you have anything new to tell me or confess?”

“No, nothing new.”

“So, if I look at your phone, there won’t be anything suspicious!”

“No, I promise!”

“You’re kidding me! The last time you went to take a shower, you left your phone on the table and there was a Grindr notification that didn’t come from my phone, nor from Maxence’s or Antoine’s!

“You went through my phone?! Since when do you know my PIN?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Antoine, “he didn’t need that!” Just remember my job. In no time, I was able to access your phone.

“Youss, you’re taking it too far! You have the opportunity to fuck three guys in an apartment completely legally without it being a problem, and you find a way to get away with it! You disgust me!”

“But Julien, I’m sorry…”

“Shut up! I thought you’d calmed down, but in the end, you’re still a whore… so tonight, you’re going to be treated like one! Maxence is coming with three guys from his soccer team! You’re going to take care of them.”

“And you… what are you going to do?”

“I’m going out with my best friends to relax.”

Maxence is on the bus talking to the guys on his team and explains to them:

“Tonight, you’re going to be able to fuck a guy… You won’t be disappointed!”

“Will you be part of it?”

– No, I’m going out with my best friends tonight!

– And what can we do with the guy?

– Whatever you want! This guy is a real slut, so please indulge yourself without holding back. Come on! We’re coming! Hold the keys to the apartment!

– Have a good evening with your friends, the guys from Maxence’s team reply in unison.

Antoine and I prepare what we need to do so that Youssef is treated the way he deserves and we go down to the garage. I get behind the wheel and Antoine asks me:

– What do you want to do tonight?

– Have a good time with you and Maxence!

– And what exactly?

– Fun and sex… so if the plan suits you…

– It totally suits me! I think Maxence will be up for it!

I reach Maxence who I get into the car and address the group:

“Treat yourselves tonight, and when you leave, lock the apartment by putting the keys in the mailbox.”

“Okay, have a good evening.”

“So? What’s planned for tonight?” Maxence asks me.

“I want to have a good time with you two and have sex… so off to the movies and then a hotel room!”

The three guys, all in their twenties, enter the apartment with the key I gave them. All this has naturally excited Youssef, who is waiting for the guys, naked on the bed, his ass on full display. The three soccer players whistle and caress the bottom’s ass. They are impressed by the gift Maxence has given them… and they are determined to make the most of it!

David has shaved hair and a clean-shaven face. He is slim but not particularly muscular. He is completely hairless. He has a 6.7-inch cock with respectable-sized balls.

Hamza has short black hair and a thick beard. He has dark skin and a slender, lean, muscular body. He has some pubic hair, large shaved balls, and a 9.5-inch black cock, circumcised with a large glans.

Anthony has short blond hair, a smooth, oval face. He has broad shoulders and a beautifully sculpted body with magnificent abs and pecs. His body is covered in a fine downy of short hair that becomes thicker on his legs. He has small brown balls and a thick 6.3-inch cock.

“Do you know why we’re here?” David asks.

“I think so…” Youssef replies timidly, not believing I arranged this for him…

“Get on your knees,” Anthony orders.

Youssef complies. He finds himself squatting in front of the three hard-on guys.

“Guys, enjoy!” says Anthony.

Smiling, David and Hamza step forward and grab the bottom’s head, pushing him against David’s cock. Immediately, Youssef swallows the cock, and David places his hand against the back of the Arab’s neck and begins to set the pace for sucking him. The French guy then moves Youssef onto Hamza’s cock, and he sucks him eagerly. Youssef is completely hard. He sucks Hamza, and David sets a fast pace for sucking him. Youssef jerks David’s cock at the same time. Meanwhile, Anthony moves behind the bottom and gropes his ass. Then, he teases his hole before pushing in one finger, then two. When he notices David is no longer holding the back of the bottom’s neck, Anthony grabs his cock and jerks it with his left hand. He says, “Come on, suck it well!” He masturbates while placing his hand behind Youssef’s head, forcing him to suck on his hard cock in a deep and fast rhythm. Then, he moves in front, and Youssef swallows his hard cock. Anthony begins an intense oral sex session. Meanwhile, David starts fingering him. Anthony pleasures himself for a few minutes, then makes Youssef stand up. He then bends him over David’s cock so he can suck it. Anthony spits on the open hole and pushes his drool inside with his finger.

Afterward, the three guys position themselves in front of Youssef’s mouth, who doesn’t know where to turn and quickly alternates cocks. The three footballers let themselves be sucked for about ten minutes. Then, Anthony places the bottom guy doggy-style on the bed and pushes David, who plunges into Youssef’s hole with a loud moan. Anthony moves in front of the passive and gives him his cock to eat. Not caring if it hurts, David begins to fuck the passive, his hands on his hips. He grabs the Arab’s shoulders when he hears him gasp with pleasure. He delivers sharp, steady, and fast thrusts. Hamza takes over from Anthony and fucks Youssef’s face.

When David comes out of the hole, Anthony has the passive lie on his back, his ass on the edge of the bed, and he fucks him while standing. His thrusts are deep and wide. Hamza resumes mouth fucking. When David approaches the welcoming mouth, Hamza pulls back, but David embraces him, and Youssef sucks the two cocks stretched out in front of his mouth, sometimes in turns, sometimes at the same time. Anthony has great stamina. He lasts about fifteen minutes without a break. From time to time, he admires his cock sliding in and out of the bottom’s anus, without a condom, before resuming a merciless pounding. He’s so into it! He keeps repeating: “So good, little slut!”, “A real cock shed!”, “A good bitch!”, “A real cum dump!”

Then, he gives way to Hamza, who puts Youssef back in doggy style and slowly enters his hole. He immediately begins to pound him like a jackhammer. Anthony is next to him, hugging him while admiring the Arab guy’s cock pounding the other Arab guy’s hole. Meanwhile, David lets himself be sucked.

After 5 minutes, David fucks the bottom again. He thrusts wildly. His thighs slap against Youssef’s ass, making a characteristic fucking noise. Hamza and Anthony let themselves be sucked off while caressing the bottom’s ass. It takes David a few minutes to give a powerful thrust. He shoots his seed deep into Youssef’s bowels.

“Here, you dirty whore, this is what you deserve!”

Youssef feels two large jets hit the bottom of his ass, followed by a large shower of cum that fills his anus.

Hamza sinks into the cum dripping out of Youssef’s hole. He makes him stand up high while he presses the bottom’s head against the sheets. He begins to pound him. Anthony shoves his cock in his mouth, grabs his head in his hands, and pounds his face. Youssef is delighted to be used like this. Hamza ends up cumming in turn from the bottom’s lair. He keeps repeating “dirty female dog.” Youssef feels five extremely powerful spurts whip the back of his ass. Hamza, exhausted, lies down on the bottom before coming out.

Anthony enters the gaping hole in turn, squeezing his buddies’ cum. His cock quickly turns white. He adopts a rapid rhythm, pulling his cock completely out before pushing it back in with a sudden thrust. Youssef is now on his stomach, enduring the top’s assaults. The top enjoys pounding the Arab’s ass for about fifteen minutes. Youssef feels his perineum and balls dripping with cum. Even Anthony’s balls are covered in his two buddies’ semen. Finally, the footballer cums nine powerful and abundant spurts, adding to the cum of the other two. The violence of the spurts makes Youssef hallucinate. Anthony slurps his cum, then pulls out of the gaping hole that lets the three footballers’ sperm flow like a torrent. Youssef sucks and cleans the three cocks, dripping drops of sperm.

“Yes! Dirty whore,” the three guys exclaim.

The three guys get dressed without even saying hello to Youssef, who’s lying covered in sperm on his bed.

Meanwhile, Maxence, Antoine, and I arrive at the hotel. The movie was great; it was Kevin Costner’s latest. We take out a bottle of wine, drink, and very quickly, we’re all kissing on the mouth. We’re soon naked, all three of us cuddling on the big bed. We caress, lick, and kiss.

I admire my two friends: Antoine has dark hair, messy shoulder-length hair. He wears glasses, a mustache, and a goatee. He’s quite tall (1.80 m) and slim. He has a small line of hair that runs down from his navel to his pubic area, which is quite hairy. He has a rather thin 7.5-inch cock… with big, hairy balls. As for Maxence, he has a slim body. His pubic area is barely hairy, and his 6.3 inches are nice and stretched out in front of his stomach.

I’m of average height and have a bit of a belly. I’m dark-haired with a beard. I’m hairy all over, all over my body. My cock is 5.5 inches.

Our tongues intertwine, our hands caress each other’s bodies. Then, Antoine leans over me and he sucks me well. My hand slides down his back and runs along his crack. Then, I grab Maxence’s cock, sucking it eagerly. He immediately starts moaning. Maxence gives a few thrusts, and I’m still getting sucked by Antoine, who’s also caressing my balls. Then, Maxence joins Antoine, and they both begin to work on my cock, licking it, sucking it, and running their tongues over my balls.

Finally, we form a triangle on the bed, and I suck Maxence, who sucks Antoine, who sucks me. We continue the foreplay for a while. Then, after a while, I sit up and say, “Tonight, I’ll be all about the action. I want to let off steam in a nice hole to release all this pressure!” Antoine then gets on all fours on the bed, his ass facing us.

“My hole is yours. Enjoy yourself!”

Without waiting, Maxence gives his darling a good rimjob, who moans loudly. Then, he sits up and pushes his 6.3 inches into the well-moistened hole. He then begins to thrust back and forth in the offered ass. I approach, embrace Maxence, and admire the sight of his cock opening our friend’s tight little hole. Then, I step back and admire his balls slapping against his barely hairy ass. Next, I lie down on the bed and snog Antoine. I bring his head close to my cock, which he begins to suck. Maxence gives strong thrusts that push my cock even further down Antoine’s throat.

Finally, he comes out and gives his cock to his lover to suck. I admire them while stroking them. Then, a bestial urge takes hold of me, and I sink into Antoine’s ass. I grab his hips and start pounding him with all my might. He finds himself shaking completely and says, “Yes, that’s it, Julien! Let off steam in my ass! Take what’s yours!” This makes my tail strokes redouble. I then straddle his body and find myself above his ass.

I continue to fuck him while I grab his hair and force him to suck Maxence deep. It takes me barely 5 minutes to empty myself into his bowels with a bestial scream. Eight jets spurt from my cock and flood my friend’s ass. When I pull out, his hole is dripping with cum. Maxence immediately takes over and packs my juices. I position myself under Antoine’s stomach and suck his 7.5 inches, which Maxence’s thrusts quickly shoot to the back of my throat…

Maxence fucks his lover and my cum flows in waves out of his anus. It drips down his perineum and balls… to drip directly onto my face! So good! A little cum runs down my friend’s cock and my own cum lands on my tongue.

“Fuck! Guys! You take such good care of me! It’s so good!” Maxence fucks Antoine for over 5 minutes, and he ends up cumming in his friend’s ass. Antoine takes his cock, jerks it off, and ejaculates fairly quickly, with his friend’s cock still inside him. Two big jets spurt onto my face, and I quickly take his cock back into my mouth, and at least five powerful spurts enter my oral cavity. Antoine leans over me and gives me a big snog, our tongues mixing his cum… and mine! We share the semen. Maxence scoops up the mix of our two juices dripping from Antoine’s ass, and we snog, sharing our three sperms.

We finally lie down on the bed, exhausted and relieved. Maxence looks at his phone where he discovers a message from his three friends. He reads it aloud: “Thanks, guys, for this wonderful gift! We took good care of your little whore. Let’s go.” “They sent the message over an hour ago,” Maxence adds.

After 15 minutes of caresses and cuddles, we decide to go home. I find the apartment key in the mailbox. We enter our apartment and find Youssef on our bed, asleep, bathed in the cum of the three football players.

“What a little slut,” I say. “What if we take care of him too?”

“He’s a whore, isn’t he?” says Antoine. “It’s our turn to enjoy his ass.”

“Exactly, I don’t see why we would treat him any differently,” Maxence adds.

I then grab Youssef’s head as he wakes up. He immediately opens his mouth when he discovers my hard cock in front of his lips. I clamp my hands over his ears and begin to kiss his mouth. He’s drooling and seems very happy with the turn of events. I grab him by the hair. Then, I lay on his chest and resume my high, giving sharp thrusts that pound his mouth.

“You’re a dirty whore! With my friends, we’re going to treat you like that and nothing else!”

Meanwhile, Maxence leans over Antoine’s cock and starts sucking it. Then,

Youssef gets on all fours and we stand in front of him. He starts sucking Kevin while he masturbates Maxence and me. He then switches and spends 10 minutes working on our cocks and balls. Antoine, Maxence, and I snog each other. At one point, Youssef gets up and wants to kiss us too. I push him away, and start pounding his mouth wildly.

“You don’t deserve our kisses and our tenderness,” I shout! Finally, I go behind Youssef and stare at his hole, which is still dripping with the cum of the three footballers. Extreme anger fills me, and while he sucks my friends’ two cocks, I stick my cock in his ass and grab him by the hair, making him sucks Maxence’s dick. Yes, we’re using Youssef like a sex toy!

Then I come back out, and Maxence takes the opportunity to thrust himself sharply into the hole Youssef has offered. I give my cock to Youss to suck while I suck Antoine’s. Maxence starts to gently thrust back and forth. Then he grabs his hips and fucks him faster and faster, with firm thrusts. Finally, he lets loose in the offered ass. I see him rocking his hips hard inside my boyfriend. Antoine watches the show, jerking off thoroughly. Antoine then enters the Arab’s ass and immediately fucks him savagely. He pounds him hard. He starts insulting Youssef, saying:

“You’re a good Arab female dog!”

“Yes!” replies Maxence. “Nothing else!”

“You’re going to pay for what you did to our friend!”

He grabs Youssef’s hair, ramming him with his 7.5 inches while I fuck his mouth hard. I say to him:

“Yes, it’s an Arab whore! A slut! A cum dump! Nothing else!”

I see tears welling up in Youssef’s eyes. I don’t care. I keep fucking him even harder. I slap him hard just as Antoine cums inside him. He seems to be cumming too.

“Take that, you dirty whore!”

Shit!

I take over and fuck him. I don’t put any thought into it. I just use Youssef! I grab a belt and get my revenge by whipping his back and ass… which he seems to enjoy. I pump the cum from the three football players and my two buddies. Their juices flow out of my ass in waves, coating my balls, which slap against his buttocks with a wet noise. What a slut, that Youssef! It makes me furious, and I take it out on him. I fuck him at a very fast pace, slapping my balls against his ass. Youssef yells like a bitch, and I pound him hard. As the minutes and the belt strokes pass, my thrusts become more and more violent… which makes Youssef squeal louder and louder. I feel my balls crush against his ass with each thrust. I fuck him hard. I fuck him for 10 minutes. Then, I finally push myself into his ass and ejaculate my seed in powerful jets.

I pull out, and the gaping hole lets out liters of cum. I leave the bedroom and close the door without a word. I sleep in my friends’ bed.

The next day, I find Youssef in the kitchen drinking his coffee. I tell him bluntly:

“Since you reinstalled Grindr and cheated on me with several guys, apparently without a condom, judging by what Antoine found in your chat, I don’t trust you anymore. It’s over between us!”

“But Julien, I swear it won’t happen again!”

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep! You’ve betrayed my trust, as well as that of my two best friends. You’ve alienated three guys.” – And there’s never any way you’ll trust me again?

– No, definitely not! You should have thought about that before cheating on me! I’ll let you have lunch. Then, you pack your bags, you leave this apartment, and you can leave your keys in the storage compartment!

Youssef falls silent and nods. He finishes lunch and goes to pack his suitcase. He runs into Maxence and Antoine on the way, who decide to have a chat with him. Maxence starts the conversation:

– I’ll be honest: I’m not going to tell you I didn’t hear your conversation with Julien. I’m not going to overwhelm you; it would be pointless, so I wish you good luck!

– Thanks, Maxence, and you too!

Maxence leaves and Antoine continues talking to Youssef alone:

– I’ll keep it short: you messed up with Julien, and you’re lucky he didn’t kick you out without your stuff. I’ve known him to be more impulsive. I don’t doubt you’re a good person, but in any case, you weren’t with Julien. Good luck, and I hope this serves as a lesson to you!

“Certainly! Thank you, good luck to you too…”

Youssef finishes packing and leaves the apartment. The elevator arrives, and Youssef takes stock. A story ends. He’s the one at fault, and he blames himself. Arriving at the bottom of the building, the bus is approaching. He takes one last look and tells himself that he’s going to miss this apartment and the three people who live there. In the meantime, he’s going to stay in a hotel while he finds a new place to live. He gets on the bus, and once seated, he wipes away the tears that flow from his eyes.

After hearing the door slam and the elevator doors close, Maxence and Antoine come over to talk to me:

“So, how are you?” Maxence asks.

“Very good!” I’ve settled my score with Youssef, so I can move on!

“So, are you planning on getting back together?” Antoine asks me.

“Not right away! But I’m not ruling out the possibility!

“Yes, you’re right! You shouldn’t generalize about Youssef,” Antoine replies.

“Don’t rush, and you know very well you can count on your friends,” Maxence tells me.

“Thanks, guys! Don’t worry, I’ll take my time, and in the meantime, I can fuck you, right?!”

“Anytime!” my two friends reply in unison.

---

Thanks to Julien for his collaboration and ideas.

Comments? Feedback? You can send me an email (remember to include the title of the story).

[email protected]

Both Kip and Billie had to help Suzy off with her pants.  They were drenched in her piss, and once they finally pulled them free, the floor was covered in piss, from her pants, and both the boys.  And when Billie and Kip pulled their pants off, Suzy whistled as they both stood there in their soaked underwear. 

“Kip you need to dress more like a gay guy.  Look how sexy Billie looks, compared to your ugly ass, ratty boxer briefs.”  Suzy said

“You want me to wear a thong, like that?”  Kip said looked at Billie standing there in an Andrew Christian sleek black thong.  

“It’s pretty hot!”  Suzy said as she got up off the bed and walked over to Billie.  

Suzy got on her knees and licked Billie’s black pouch; it was still drenched in his piss.  Then she put her finger in the top of the elastic waist band and pulled it down just enough to expose is smooth pubic area.  Then Suzy licked the velvet skin right about Billie’s cock. 

“Ohhhh god” Billie said as he felt his cock begin to swell. 

“Come here Kip.”  Suzy said and Kip got down on his knees with her.   “See how easy you can into his junk with this thong.  Feel the fabric, and the thin waist band, I’m sure it’s comfortable.” 

Kip cupped his hand around Billie’s cloth overed package, he could feel Billie’s cock hardening in his hand.  And Kip knew it wouldn’t be long before Billie’s hard cock would be sticking up out of his skimpy thong.

“Taste them.”  Suzy said. 

Kip licked the pouch, he could taste Billie’s piss and felt his hard cock jump up inside its cloth cage as Kip licked up from his balls, all along Billie’s long hard cock protruding in the fabric.   Suddenly Billie’s cock slid up out of the waist band and the head of his cock was now towering out of his skimpy thong.  

Suzy put her lips on the head of Billie’s cock and sucked the exposed part of his cock into her mouth.   Billie moaned loudly as Suzy rotated her tongue and lips around the head of his cock.   Kip then pulled the tiny thong off Billie’s cock, and sucked Billie’s right ball into his mouth.  Billie gasped. 

Suzy now had most of Billie’s hard, 8 inch cock in her mouth sucking him off, as Kip bathed Billie’s balls, sucking each into his mouth and playing with them with his tongue.   Billie jerked and swore as his orgasm burst from his cock, shooting cum into Suzy’s mouth which she let dribble down his long, hard shaft and drain all over his balls for Kip to savor. 

Suzy and Kip licked up his warm cum, sucking it into their mouths as they all enjoyed his massive orgasm.  And when Billie’s cock began to soften, Suzy and Kip fell back on the floor.    Billie fell to the floor with them, breathless as he tried to recover from the intense orgasm. 

“Kip, let’s see how easy it is to take off Suzy’s thong.”  Billie said when he could finally talk legibly.  

They both got on each side of her and pulled the thin string of a waist band off her hips with their teeth.  Soon Suzy’s pussy was completely exposed as Kip continued pulling her thong completely off.   Once Kip got them free, he grabbed them, held them up over his head and rung them out over his mouth, while Billie and Suzy watched him drink the little bit of her piss still lingering in her thong. 

“It won’t bite!”  Suzy said, looking at Billie, who was just staring down at her pussy.  

Suzy pulled her knees up and then spread her legs wide.   As Billie continued to stare at her cunt, almost licking his lips. 

“Go for it buddy. Just dive right in, the eatin is fine!”  Kip said, slapping Billie on the back gently then smiling at Suzy. 

Hesitantly, Billie leaned down and lightly licked her cunt lips and looked back up at them.   He did it again, but this time penetrating his tongue into her pussy, as her lips gave way to his tongue.  

“aahhhh”  Suzy moaned. 

“Come boy, eat that pussy out.  Eat that pussy just like you ate my ass the other night.”  Kip said 

Billie looked at him, tilted his head as if he got it now. And he picked Suzy up and tossed her onto the bed, and dove between her legs, throwing them over his shoulder, pushing his face deep into her smooth lips. Billie licked, sucked, and nibbled away at her cunt until she started to screech, moan, and swear as he ate her pussy just like he was eating Kip’s ass.  

“Billie aahhhhh fuck Billie, ooohhh god Billie” Suzy moaned as Billie’s tongue continued to devour her with real hunger for her pussy.  

Kip sat back and watched in disbelieve, that his somewhat shy roommate who was now apparently gay, was doing a fucking wild job of eating out his girlfriend, right there in front of him.  Kip’s cock was hard, just as Billie’s was, as he knelt on the bed between Suzy’s legs and made a mess of her pussy.  

Suddenly Suzy’s orgasm came out of nowhere, she just started shrieking and screaming as her cunt began spewing streams of her cum all over Billie, all over her, and pretty much all over the room.   Kip couldn’t handle it anymore, he was jerking off so hard, his cock was turning read, and he came all over Billie’s head and splattered most his cum on Suzy’s stomach and tits.  

Suzy finally pushed Billie away, she couldn’t breathe, her orgasms were so intense.  Billie sat back, dripping in her cum, and watched as she calmed down.   He looked up at Kip, who’s cock was so close to his face, he couldn’t help but take the semi hard, spent tool in his mouth and started sucking it off, until Kip couldn’t take it anymore and pushed Billie away.  

That’s when Billie spotted Kip’s cum all over Suzy’s stomach and the streams of his thick white jizz oozing down into her cunt.   Billie pushed her legs apart and licked her abs clean, eating every drop of Kip’s thick ball juice he could lick up.

Once again, they woke up cuddled up against each other, totally naked.  Suzy quickly jumped out of bed, swearing, and saying something about ‘an early class’ as she scoured the place for her thong.  Finally, she gave up and just pulled on her jeans, threw on one of Kip’s T-shirt and ran out the door while Billie and Kip sat up in bed watching her.  

Kip looked down at Billie’s hard on and then over at his.  “I don’t have class for another hour, you?”  Kip asked Billie. 

“Nope, it’s Thursday, no classes until 1.”  Billie said

“Good.”  Kip said as he scooted down on the bed, flipped around so they both began suck each other’s cocks. 

Their cum was warm as it shot down Kip and Billie’s throat at pretty much the same time.  And as they both rolled on their backs to catch their breaths, Billie started to get out of bed. 

“Dude!”  Kip said. 

“Gotta piss.”  Billie said frankly. 

Kip pulled him back and Billie fell back into his spot.  Kip maneuvered Billie’s cock into his mouth with just his lips and waited.   Billie decided to do the same, and within a few seconds both boys were pissing in each other’s mouths.   They were extremely careful not to let any leak on the sheet, although they weren’t sure why as they sheets were already drenched in Suzy cum.  But Kip and Billie just laid there, drinking carefully from each other’s cocks. 

“Did you boys have a nice morning?”  Suzy asked as she sat down at the cafeteria table with her lunch. 

“We did, thank you.  Oh, and I found your thong.”  Kip said and pulled open the front of his sweats, showing Suzy her skimpy black thong that would never fit her again.  

“Oh you brat!”  Suzy said hitting Kip on the shoulder.  

“It’s still wet.”  Kip said jokingly

“Serves you right.  Billie would never do anything that mean.”  Suzy said looking over at Billie and blowing him a kiss.  

“Yea, that’s what you think.  The reason it’s still wet is that Billie shot his wad in the cup of your thong.”  Kip said laughing, and he laughed even harder when Suzy hit Billie on the arm and then hit Kip again. 

“Hey, why are you hitting me.”  Kip said. 

“Because you’re wearing my thong with another man’s cum on it!”  Suzy said. 

“Yea, but he’s my boyfriend!”  Kip said, smiling at Billie. 

“Yea, but I’m your girlfriend.”  Suzy said. 

“And that’s why I’m wearing your thong baby!”  Kip said and kissed her softly on the lips. 

Billie and Suzy went off to their history lecture again while Kip went off to his last class of the day.   They agreed to meet at the soccer game later that day because Billie wanted to watch Tommy play. 

Billie and Suzy once again sat in the back of the lecture theater.  Suzy was bored with the class already, so once the lecture began, she quietly undid the button of her jean and pulled the zipper down.   Seeing that Suzy had left her thong in the draw of her dress that morning, when she spread her pants open, her hairless pussy was totally exposed.   

Billie watched her every move, and when he saw Suzy had opened her pants, and that nothing was between her jeans and her pussy, his cock began to harden inside the thong that he decided to wear today, along with Kip.  

Suzy looked at Billie and then down at her crotch, but Billie just stared.  Again, Suzy looked up at him and with her eye she gestured down to her pussy. 

“No” Billie whispered.  

Suzy pushed her hips up in the air, almost begging for attention.   Billie looked around, there was one guy next to Suzy, but he was dazed by the professor, and nobody next to Billie.  He moved his left hand over to her bare crotch and started to rub her smooth skin softly.  Suzy pushed his hand lower into her pants.   Billie knew what she wanted and finally put one of his fingers against her pussy lips.  She smiled at him.

Billie used his middle finger when he pushed it inside her. Suzy was wet and took a deep breath once his finger was lodged deep inside her.  

“More.”  Suzy whispered. 

Billie added another finger into her cunt, he could feel her juice seeping onto his hand as he began to finger fuck her right there in class.  Suzy laid her head back, stretching out in the seat, giving Billie better access to her pussy as he added yet another finger. 

And as Billie’s fingers were getting Suzy really, really wet, she noticed the lump of Billie’s cock running up his jeans.  So, she reached over and started to rub his hard cock through his jeans.  Billie wanted to stop her but, ‘oh fuck’  it fest so fucking good.  

It wasn’t long before both Suzy and Billie were breathing heavily, as they both tried not to be obvious.  But Billie’s cock was rigid, and she was rubbing it almost to the point of exploding inside his pants.   Billie tried to push her hand away a few times, knowing what was going to happen soon, but Suzy kept coming back, rubbing him up and down until she heard Billie gasp as she felt his cock jerk, and then felt the wetness seeping through his jeans as his orgasm spilled rope after rope of his wet cum inside his little black thong.  

“Oh god, ohhhhh god yea ahhhhhhhh.”  Billie tried to whisper as he tensed as Suzy continued to rub his cock hard. 

Billie leaned back in his seat after the orgasm.  He could feel the cum running down the sides of his hips, and onto his ass as he looked to see the huge wet spot forming on his jeans.  

Suzy sat up, cramping Billie’s hand that was still lodged inside her pussy.   Billie pulled his hand free quickly, and Suzy immediately zipped up her pants, and buttoned up.  He looked at Suzy with a questioning look.

“Now you’ll see what it’s like to have a thong full of cum.”  Suzy said and smiled. 

“You two are fucking wild.”  The guy sitting next to Suzy said, apparently, he had  been watching them the whole time.  

“What’s up?” I pop my head into the back room of the shop, hoping it’s not going to take long. “What did you need?”

Dan is sitting at his desk, working on the computer. I’m instantly taken aback.

“Are you wearing… glasses?” I ask, catching a glance of the quite sophisticated frames, with a thin silver rim.

“Shit” Dan mutters, taking them off to look at me, realising there is no chance to hide them anymore. I giggle, as Dan closes his eyes and massages the bridge of his nose where the glasses were resting, a frustrated expression on his face.

“I’m really turning you into the perfect academic!”

A huge sigh from Dan. “The doctor says I need to wear them when I work at the computer…”

“Well, I think they make you look very intellectual. They soften the rugged, rough exterior a bit.” And with that I go in and smooth out the collar of his mustard-coloured overshirt.

“Rugged? Did you come here looking for punishment?”

“Oh, you know I love rugged. And rough. Definitely love it rough.”

“I bet you do,” Dan says, placing his hand on my inner thigh as I sit on the edge of his desk, in front of his chair.

“So why did I come here? What do you need?”

Dan’s hand travels up between my legs until it hits the crotch of my trousers. The stimulation makes my dick stir in its cage.

“Are you still able to come help me with the delivery tonight? I really want to get those new arrivals sorted before tomorrow…”

“Yes, of course, I thought it wasn’t coming until 5pm though?”

“Yeah, no, that’s right.”

“Then why am I here? I don’t want to be late for my seminar.”

Dan’s other hand is unbuckling my belt now, giving me a hint as to why he’s asked me to pop by the shop on my way to work. I turn around, looking through the one-way mirror onto the shop floor. I saw at least one person browsing books in the mezzanine when I came in and there’s a good flow of people outside, a lot of them on their lunch break.

I keep trying to shoo away Dan’s head from my crotch, but the more flustered I get, the more half-hearted my resistance becomes.

“There are people here,” I say, lowering my voice – more seeking reassurance than asking him to stop. Dan gets up and kisses me.

“That guy comes in every week, sits upstairs for forty-five minutes and never buys anything,” he whispers.

He flips me over and lowers my trousers in one swift motion. He starts massaging my cheeks, spreading them apart, kneading them like dough. The view from the back room is still clear, but the open door to the back room and the knowledge that customers may be hidden from view or browsing books upstairs, makes this now ordinary sexual interaction with Dan extra risky. And it makes me extra horny.

Dan pulls out the butt plug, placing it on the desk pointing up. Normally, I would wear more reasonably-sized plugs to work – discreet ones with thin necks – but knowing I would have to spend some time at the shop today, I upgraded. It looks even bigger within the everyday context of the bookshop. How bad of a slut have I become?

Dan gets up and I hear him unbuckling his own belt. As he does, he leans closer.

“Sorry, we’ll need to keep the dirty talk to a minimum today…” he whispers in my ear. “And the moaning, please? We don’t want to alarm the customers.”

I don’t reply, but I feel a drop of precum leak from my caged dick, down to my balls, into my underwear. I can feel Dan’s cock resting between my ass cheeks, pointing up, ready to go.

Dan reaches down to my cage, scooping up some of the juices and brings them to my mouth. I suck on his two fingers, as he positions the tip of his cock against my hole. Then, he takes his fingers out of my mouth and uses his hand to cover it, at the same time as he slides his cock inside me. Even if I tried to moan, his strong hand would muffle any sound.

“Good boy,” he whispers.

He starts pumping and thrusting, as I realise this is probably the least amount of time we’ve ever spent on foreplay. It’s a proper quickie.

Dan’s rhythmic thrusts are stimulating my prostate and making my cage swing back and forth, but he’s quiet, methodical. The desk barely moves, not a sound in the room, except for the barely audible clinking of the lock on my cage.

Dan’s hands travel up under my shirt and reach my nipples. He starts rolling them between his fingers, breathing heavily on my neck. I try to keep my focus on the shop floor, making sure nobody suspects anything, but Dan is suddenly tensing up. There are none of the usual signs, no grunting, no deep strokes, but I know he’s coming inside me. I can only feel his cock pulsing, almost as if I can feel Dan’s heartbeat through his inflating and deflating shaft.

I am brought back to reality by the sounds of steps on the staircase. Someone is coming downstairs. I elbow Dan, as Mr. Comes-In-Every-Week-But-Never-Buys-Anything approaches the till with a magazine in hand that he certainly seems to be interested in purchasing.

Dan is zipping up his trousers, when I try to squat down with the intent of doing the same.

“Don’t. Move.”

I freeze. I remember the same scene from just a few months ago, when Dan whispered the same words in my ear while he was fingering me in a position not unlike the one I’m in now. Except this time there is no doubt, there is no question, there is no decision to make. I simply freeze. Ass out, hole clenched so his load doesn’t leak out and dick in a chastity cage that looks well beyond frustrated at this point.

Dan leaves the room, looking his usual collected self, and I watch him complete the transaction and do a little small talk. It’s at this point that I realise how much I trust him. That he cares about me enough to know that this is what I want: to be his.

Once the customer is gone, Dan comes back to find me.

“Hot, huh?” he says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I had to pretend I was moving boxes back here. Now where were we?”

He comes back behind me, squatting down, spreading my cheeks apart and examining my hole.

“Good job!” he praises me, “Not one drop came out. You’re a star!”

And with that, he grabs the butt plug that he placed on the desk and starts working it up my hole. Sperm really can be the perfect lubricant sometimes. The plug goes in with an almost cartoonish “Plop!” and Dan gets up.

“This way, you will have something to remember me by for the rest of the day,” he explains.

Dan gently grabs my hand that was trying to wipe off some of the precum that covered my cage and inner thighs, shaking his head. Instead, he grabs my underwear and trousers and pulls them up. Then he buttons and zips them.

“I think it’s better if you stay wet. I’m sure it won’t transfer to your trousers… I just want you to remember how much of a hopeless slut you’ve become,” he says, going in for a peck on my cheek.

“So, I’ll be back at around 5:30pm then?” I ask, still a little flustered.

Dan looks at me with a puzzled expression. He was expecting me to continue with our usual sexual banter. Instead, I smooth out my shirt, grab my rucksack, and kiss him.

“Love you,” I say, instead of my usual “Bye!”

I don’t turn back as I leave, but I have a good feeling Dan stood petrified where I left him, at least for a few seconds.

---

When I get to the shop, the door’s already locked, so I have to knock. I see Dan coming to get me.

“So punctual,” he says, looking around. He sounds slightly off. Almost… nervous? My exit line from earlier was meant to shut him up, but now I’m wondering if it shook me a little too much.

“Oh, are you still waiting for the delivery?” I ask, looking around to estimate how much heavy lifting we’ll have to endure.

“Nah, I already started, go upstairs, I’ll be up in a sec,” he says, disappearing into the back room. I drop my rucksack next to the counter and make my way up. However, once I get there, there are no boxes of books like I was expecting; instead, the benches where I usually came to read had been moved to the side, replaced by a big duvet, a throw blanket and two pillows. The coffee table is overflowing with food, from appetizers – crackers, cheese, salami – to more substantial sandwiches and salads.

Dan joins me upstairs. He’s holding a tray with drinks and ice.

“I thought we deserved a date night,” he says, putting down the tray next to the food.

“You… did this?”

“It’s just a little picnic. I thought it would be a little more romantic here, where we met, you know?”

“So I gather there is no delivery coming…? Who’s going to eat all this food!” I laugh, a little taken aback by the spread.

“I know… I might’ve got a bit carried away,” he says taking his shoes off, and sitting down on the duvet. He pats the spot next to him, inviting me to join him, so I take my jacket off and settle down, with a pillow behind my back.

“So, there’s a few things I wanted to discuss,” he announces, getting a glass from the tray he just carried upstairs and handing me a colourless fizzy drink, which I assume is a gin and tonic.

“Are you about to propose to me?” I joke, taking a sip of the drink. “Because I am still quite young and probably not ready for that sort of commitment. I’ve still got my whole life ahead of me, I hope you know that.”

“Oh, piss off,” he says, tutting and pushing me away with his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry, you were saying…?”

“Well, there’s a couple of things,” he says, reaching into his shirt pocket. A set of keys jingle in his hand. He hands them to me.

“I made you a copy – keys to my flat. You spend a lot of time there now, and I’m always here. No need to keep sharing the same set.”

I’m a little speechless. I hesitantly hold out my hand.

“Th-thank you,” I say, tucking them into my own pocket.

“And now to my second gift: an engagement ring,” he says, trying to get a reaction out of me, and, frankly, almost managing to. He reaches into his shirt pocket again, taking out another set of keys, much smaller this time. I’m confused.

“You know I’m caged. You checked earlier.”

He shrugs. “It’s a special day, and I’m feeling generous,” he says, shifting over until he’s straddling me. He unbuckles my belt and lowers my trousers down to my knees. He inserts the key into the small lock and releases my dick from its restraints. The piece covering the shaft immediately comes off, strands of precum stretching from the inside. I put my drink down and help Dan take the ring part off.

For the first time in a long time, I get to see my dick out of its cage – not to shave, or to clean myself – but in front of Dan. I feel slightly ashamed by its size and instinctively cover it with my hands, looking at Dan for an explanation as to what his intentions are.

Instead, he grabs my wrists and pins them down the sides of my body, while he lowers himself down, until his face is on my crotch.

He takes my stiffening dick into his mouth all at once, making me gasp. My nervous system crashes, sensations heightened by the long period of sensory deprivation we’ve imposed on my dick. I want to cover my mouth, touch my nipples, grab Dan’s shoulders – anything to find relief from the sudden and unbearable attack on my senses, but Dan’s hands and body are not giving me a lot of room for movement. All I can do is shake my feet and wiggle my toes.

I shut my eyes, trying not to bust seconds after Dan has started blowing me, but then the feeling suddenly stops.

“I got in,” Dan says, smiling up at me. “They accepted my application. I am starting the course in October.”

“What? And you are just telling me now? How long hav—”

Dan starts blowing me again, with even more passion now, sucking on my foreskin, going down my shaft, and back to licking the tip. His grip is still as strong, and I can hear him chuckle as I squirm underneath him. Then he stops again.

“Got the news yesterday. Knew you’d make a massive fuss… Thought this might keep you in check.”

And before I can utter a word, he starts licking my balls. Eventually he moves downward, pressing his tongue on my taint. I let out a gasp of pleasure: I’m not even fully hard and I feel like I’m about to cum.

I want to grab Dan’s head and push my dick inside, shoot in his mouth. The thought of a real orgasm – not a denied or handsfree one – is sending jolts of electricity through my brain. When is the last time Dan let me cum like this? When was the last time I decided to cum like this? I can’t even remember.

And then. It stops. Dan releases me from his inescapable grip, lifts himself up and gives me a long kiss – passionate, but without the usual sexual rush that accompanies our make-out sessions.

He lies down again, spooning me as I curl up, still a little shaky, on the duvet. His arms envelop me from behind. I even forget I’m half-clothed half-naked, my trousers down to my ankles, as I melt in Dan’s chest.

“I guess I wanted to say thanks,” he whispers in my ear. “You’ve really pushed me to improve this year.”

I try to interrupt, but he doesn’t let me. “I know you’re going to be modest and say you didn’t do anything, and I did it all on my own… But you care about other people, buddy, and not everybody cares about other people.”

We both pause for a few seconds.

“Now… In a second, I’m going to stop with this cheesy shite, take your plug out and fuck you senseless, while I wank you off. How does that sound?”

I nod eagerly without saying a word.

“Thought so,” he says, reaching down and pulling out my butt plug, which puts up no resistance at all. As soon as it’s out, I can feel Dan’s warm load from earlier in the day leaking out.

“I’m glad we’ve already prepped your hole with that quickie,” Dan says, fiddling with his trousers for a second and sliding his already hard cock inside me. He shoves it in deep and fast, without even giving me the chance to catch my breath, making me moan with pleasure. In the same way that one applies pressure and rubs the skin to relieve the discomfort after ripping off a plaster, Dan hugs me tightly and nuzzles the side of my neck to calm me down. His beard tickles me and makes my hole clench down on his cock.

“There you go,” he whispers. “Good job, buddy… Now, I need you to listen to me here. I’m already a little worked up by the idea that you had this load inside you all day, so it won’t take me long to get off. As a gesture of gratitude, I’m going to let you have a glorious orgasm. No denial, no cage. However, you are absolutely not allowed to cum until I tell you to. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whimper. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Good.”

He starts thrusting and his pace picks up almost immediately. He reaches down to my dick, wrapping two fingers around the now softer shaft.

“Did you like having my load inside you at work?” he grunts in my ear.

I have lost my ability to speak. All I can think of is the pleasure I’m getting both from Dan’s cock pressing knocking on my second hole, and from Dan’s large hand enveloping my dick, pulling my foreskin back and forth.

“Now that you’ve got keys to my flat, I’m always going to have you prepped and ready to be filled up at the end of the workday, I can’t wait.”

I shut my eyes and open my mouth to engage in the dirty talk, as I usually would, but instead all I can muster up is a loud and unusually high-pitched moan. I cover my mouth, repressing any subsequent ones and desperately trying not to cum.

“I’m getting close, buddy,” Dan mutters as he relentlessly fucks my hole. “Are you excited to finally have a real orgasm? Just like the ones Daddy has when he breeds you?”

Without opening my eyes, I just nod. My body writhing in ecstasy, my ears ringing, my limbs starting to go numb.

“Cum for Daddy, buddy! Cum for me now!”

Dan’s thrusts get more powerful, syncing with his orgasm, pumping hot spurts of cum inside me with each muscle contraction. His hand doesn’t stop, and my dick starts squirting and oozing copious amounts of juices on the duvet. I feel pins and needles all over my body: Dan is fulfilling the promise of fucking me senseless, with my body going into full sensory chaos. I’m not actually sure how long my orgasm lasts, I’m not even sure if Dan is… speaking? Moving? Kissing my neck?

I lie there, vision blurred and brain foggy, enjoying orgasm bliss, free of any restraints and safe in Dan’s presence. All these weeks and months of denial and discipline, of handsfree orgasms and wet dreams, seem to have had the desired effect. A spent and satisfied bottom, in the arms of his sweet and dominant top.

Coming back to reality feels like waking up from a dream. I first regain awareness of Dan behind me, who is still spooning me. His cock has slipped out of my hole and cum is dribbling out of it, down my right buttock and inner thigh, and onto the duvet.

Then I start to regain control of my limbs. I stir a little, then roll onto my back. Dan is still on his side, now looking down at me.

“So…” I start, a bit out of breath. “Congratulations are in order.”

“So it seems,” Dan says, with his signature smirk.

“Congratulations. Really. You are going to be great at it. And you are really going enjoy the process, too…” I pause. “I should also say… I finished my manuscript. So, thank you for all the help.”

Dan raises his eyebrows, surprised. He leans down and kisses me, as if unable to contain his joy. It’s a long, genuine kiss that betrays his usual wry attitude. This intimate moment fills me with new energy. I refocus my mind to our earlier conversation, to our growing relationship, and I feel optimistic.

“See? I can also get a reaction out of you when I want to. The kiss was a bit over the top, though. Rein it in, Daddy,” I say, jokingly patting Dan’s chest.

“You’re turning into a bratty one, you know?”

“I guess Daddy’s got his work cut out for him, then.”

I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my arm around his torso and closing my eyes, as he hugs me back.

– END OF CHAPTER 12 –

---

And that’s it, Book One of The Bookshop Owner concludes here. I started writing this story with a rough idea of where it was going, but without a clear plan. I have always been a fan of erotic fiction, so I wanted to have a go at writing my own. I didn’t expect these characters to interact and evolve in this way over 12 chapters, and I certainly didn’t expect to enjoy writing it as much as I did. I hope you’ve also enjoyed the story, despite the slow-ish publication pace and the limited time I can dedicate to writing erotica.

I have published a special epilogue for the Bookshop Owner, to promote the free e-book which you can download from my Bluesky page .

More stories are coming, of which some will probably be one-shots. I would like to continue the Bookshop Owner series, too, because I am intrigued by these characters, but I want to take some time to do more research and to flesh out the plot for the second arc. If there is anything you would like to see explored, in this series or as a standalone story, please get in touch.

Chapter 1: The First Encounter

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

It was true, I was older than him—probably by about ten or twelve years based on his looks—but I’d often been confused for much younger than my thirty-nine years. Not because of any special skin care regime, makeup, or efforts to dress or act younger than my age; I’d just been lucky in the genetics pool, I guess. My looks had often earned me the attention of other men, though I was not the gym-fit, muscle-bound Adonis that featured in most gay men’s masturbation fantasies. I had an attractive, youthful-looking face, kept myself up well, and always ensured I dressed myself appropriately.

There was something disarming about my appearance. I had the kind of unthreatening handsomeness that made people linger without understanding why. My build was trim—lean more from consistency than effort—and my features were softened by a natural innocence I had never fully grown out of. Even the way I walked, with a certain reserve, invited curiosity and lingering interest. I’d been with men before—submissive, pliant, learning to be what they wanted—but I never felt particularly in control. Despite how often I was told I was good-looking, I lacked confidence when it mattered. I didn’t know how to pursue. I waited, watched, and hoped I’d be seen.

Sean saw me.

Sean, by contrast, was exactly the sort of man you’d expect to see walking down the streets of any gay village. He clearly spent a lot of time at the gym, and his body was evidence of the effort he’d put into creating a physique designed to entice. His luscious blond hair was meticulously styled and looked as though it was attended to and re-attended to throughout the day. His skin was perfect, unblemished and flush in all the right places, bestowing an impression of vigour and health. Each outfit Sean wore seemed as though it was torn from the pages of a modern fashion magazine, and he wore the clothes like a model on a runway. Even Sean’s hands were attractive—large and defined, with masculine fingers that he adorned with perfectly chosen rings—and there was always a tasteful watch to match on his wrist. Sean was the picture of perfection in my mind, and I still hadn’t seen what was under his clothes. He was 6’2″, had metallic blue eyes, and a commanding gaze that belied his young age. He wore the confidence of his profession everywhere he went; Sean was a lawyer in and out of the office.

The first time I saw him in the boardroom, standing as if he owned the space despite being the newest hire, I felt something low in my stomach shift. It wasn’t just desire. It was gravity. The way he glanced around the room, eyes sweeping over people like they were facts to be filed. When his gaze landed on me—briefly, precisely—I felt it. The recognition. He saw more than the surface. He saw the way I looked away too quickly. The way my jaw tensed.

And yet, for all his polish, Sean wasn’t just beautiful. He was dangerous. Not in the sense of threat—but in the way predators are dangerous to prey. There was something in his expression that calculated constantly, like he was always deciding how to use what he saw. That glint in his eye, the way he tilted his head as if measuring your worth. I caught him looking at me once or twice. Or maybe more than that. But he never lingered long enough for me to be sure.

He was new to the firm, a junior associate transferred in from a boutique litigation firm elsewhere downtown. I was a senior associate in the employment group, older, more seasoned. Our roles barely overlapped, but when they did—when we passed in the halls, or stood side by side at the espresso machine—something unspoken pressed at the edge of those moments.

He always smiled first. I never could.

Our first substantial conversation happened late one Thursday, well past six. The floor had mostly emptied. I was at the copier, organizing a stack of contracts for review, when Sean walked past, then doubled back.

“Burning the midnight oil?” he asked, smooth as anything.

I chuckled, trying to play it cool. “Not quite midnight. Just standard senior associate hours.”

He leaned against the filing cabinet beside me. “They’ve already got you pulling triple shifts, huh?”

I shrugged. “They always do.”

Sean looked me over—not with the blank professionalism most associates adopted, but with a subtle, assessing gaze. Like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

“You don’t look tired,” he said. “You look like you belong here.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t a compliment exactly, but it landed like one. I met his gaze for a second too long before looking away.

He reached past me to grab a stray file, and I caught the faint scent of cologne—something cool, expensive, and masculine. My throat went dry.

“You’re in employment, right?” he asked, casually.

“Yeah. You?”

“Litigation. They say I’m aggressive.”

I tried to smile. “Well, that makes sense.”

He smirked. “Why’s that?”

“You look like someone who doesn’t ask twice.”

His smile deepened, just enough to suggest something behind it.

We stood there a moment longer. Then he stepped back.

“Goodnight, Blake.”

He said my name like he’d practiced it.

“Goodnight, Sean.”

He turned and walked away, and I was left with the distinct impression that I’d just failed a test I hadn’t known I was taking.

But I also knew I’d passed something else—because when he looked back once, just briefly, it wasn’t curiosity I saw in his eyes.

It was interest.

And suddenly, I wasn’t so tired anymore.

The next morning, I found myself noticing Sean everywhere. In the blur of the morning elevator crowd, he stood out like a high-definition image in a sea of blur. His suit was charcoal, cut sharp across the shoulders and snug at the waist. The tie was a subtle navy herringbone, understated but purposeful—like everything he wore. And yet it wasn’t the clothes that drew the eye. It was the carriage. Sean walked like a man with nothing to prove and yet absolutely everything in control. I watched him greet the managing partner with a firm handshake and a smile just shy of respectful. He knew where the lines were—and how to walk right up to them.

I ducked into the kitchen for a coffee refill, half-hoping he wouldn’t follow. Half-hoping he would.

“Morning,” he said behind me. My hand jerked, nearly sloshing coffee over the edge of the cup.

“Hey,” I said. Smooth.

“You always this jumpy?”

“Only when I haven’t had caffeine.”

He laughed softly, stepping beside me at the espresso machine. The scent of him was warm and citrus-edged today, like bergamot and cedar.

“You heading to court this morning?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Client meeting downtown. Thought I’d dress like I charge by the hour.”

He didn’t have to try that hard. He looked like someone who should be paid just to exist in a suit. I took a careful sip of coffee.

“Let me know if you ever want to grab lunch,” he said, suddenly.

I blinked. “Yeah. Sure.”

He turned to go, then paused.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

“What?”

Sean smiled. “You’re the only one in this office not trying to impress anyone. That’s what makes you interesting.”

He left me standing there, mouth partway open, coffee forgotten.

Interesting.

No one had called me that in years. Certainly not someone like Sean.

Back at my desk, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind replayed every look, every word. The way he’d said my name. The way he moved. The fact that he’d noticed me—not just as a colleague, but as a man. And beneath the buzz of distraction, something else took root. A question.

What did he want from me?

Because whatever it was, I already knew I would give it.

That afternoon, I watched him in a meeting—just across the glass from the corridor, seated at the head of the table as if he’d been born to lead it. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, the room quieted. Even the partners listened. There was something in the way he paused, considered, made people wait for his words. It was commanding without arrogance. Intentional. Controlled.

I shouldn’t have lingered outside the boardroom. I’d come to drop something off, but I found myself standing still, like a voyeur at a gallery exhibit. The meeting eventually broke and Sean stood, laughing at something one of the partners said. As the room emptied, he looked up. Saw me. Held my gaze through the glass.

He didn’t smile this time. He just tilted his head slightly. Like he was acknowledging a challenge.

Later that day, a calendar invite appeared in my inbox. No message. Just a subject line: Follow-up: LSO audit response. Sean’s name below it. A fake pretext. We didn’t work on the same files. We had no shared matters.

I clicked accept.

The meeting was scheduled for 7 p.m.

I didn’t leave the office early that night. I didn’t even try.

When 7 p.m. came, the halls of the office were hushed and hollow. The daytime buzz of voices, printers, and incoming calls had faded, leaving behind the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant echo of someone vacuuming on another floor. I sat at my desk longer than I needed to, pretending to review a memo, pretending not to watch the clock.

At 6:58, I walked to the meeting room.

Sean was already there.

He stood near the windows, back to the glass, the skyline glittering behind him in fractured gold and blue. He wasn’t in a rush. His blazer was off, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He didn’t glance up right away when I stepped inside. Just motioned for me to shut the door.

“I appreciate you making time,” he said, finally turning.

His tone was neutral, but his eyes weren’t. They scanned me deliberately, like he was still deciding what kind of meeting this would be.

“No problem,” I replied, walking toward the table. “Happy to help.”

He smiled slightly. “You always this helpful?”

I sat across from him, heart ticking louder than I wanted it to.

“Only when I want to be.”

We stared at each other a moment longer. Then Sean pulled a thin file from his bag and laid it on the table. A single sheet inside. Blank.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “let’s talk about how we’re going to handle this.”

I looked at the file. Then back at him. The tension thickened—neither hostile nor collegial, but charged with something unspoken. A current.

“You’re playing with fire,” I said softly.

Sean leaned back, resting one ankle on his opposite knee, completely relaxed.

“Good thing I like the heat.”

Outside the windows, the city glowed. Inside the room, time stretched thin.

He didn’t move. Neither did I.

But something had already begun.

He stood, not abruptly, but with the kind of grace that made every movement seem rehearsed. He walked to the credenza near the window and poured two fingers of scotch into a tumbler, then offered it to me. I accepted without thinking. The drink was smooth, smoky, expensive. Of course it was.

Sean poured one for himself and leaned against the wall, just far enough away to make me wonder if I was supposed to close the distance.

“So what’s your read on the place?” he asked.

I blinked. “The firm?”

“Yeah.”

I hesitated. “It’s… structured. Hierarchical. Efficient.”

He smirked. “That’s the kind of answer you give when you don’t want to get in trouble.”

I shrugged. “Old habits.”

He took a slow sip. “You’re not like the others here.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“It is,” he said, watching me now. “Most of them are trying to prove something. You’re not.”

I felt my pulse quicken. “That’s because I already know what I am.”

Sean tilted his head, considering. “Do you?”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was sharp, alive. He crossed the room and took the seat next to me, not across from me this time. His thigh brushed mine. Deliberately. He didn’t apologize.

He picked up the file again, glanced at the blank page, and closed it.

“You’re the kind of man who knows how to follow rules,” he said. “But I get the sense you’re waiting for someone to give you new ones.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not without giving too much away.

He stood again, gathering his blazer, his phone, his presence.

“I’m heading out,” he said. “Want to walk with me to the elevators?”

I followed.

We walked in silence to the elevator bay, footsteps soft on the carpet. He pressed the button. The light blinked on.

When the doors opened, he turned to me.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

His tone was neutral. But his eyes lingered.

I nodded.

“Goodnight, Sean.”

He stepped inside, the doors closing behind him.

I stared at the elevator for a long moment, the taste of scotch still on my tongue, my heart thudding quietly in my chest.

Something had begun. And whatever it was, I knew it wouldn’t end in boardrooms and elevator rides..

To be continued..

The guy was unassuming, about 5’ 8” and thin—like a swimmer’s lean, wiry body, with a quiet grace that didn’t demand attention. He wore wire-rimmed glasses, giving him a nerdy, bookish charm, his light hair slightly mussed. Earlier, in the dim, cedar-scented dry sauna, he’d been sitting on a wooden bench, rubbing petroleum jelly on his enormous cock head. The slick sheen caught the low light, and my husband, intrigued by the brazen act, asked him why he was doing it. In a soft, almost shy voice, he admitted it just really stimulated him, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through his core. “It just feels so damn good,” he said, a faint smile curling his lips. His cock was undeniably beautiful—long, thick, and perfectly proportioned except for the enormous cock head, a striking contrast to his unassuming demeanor. He reminded me of Wally Cox, the quirky Mr. Peepers from 1950s TV, all understated charm with a hidden spark.

The bathhouse was alive with muted moans and the rhythmic slap of skin in nearby rooms, the air heavy with musk and anticipation. There was an orgy room down the hall, dimly lit with a single bulb casting sultry shadows over a queen-size mattress. I was lying lengthwise on it, my body sinking into the cool surface, my pulse quickening as I watched silhouettes move in the doorway. He entered, his silhouette framed by the faint glow from the hall, his glasses glinting briefly. He stood near my head, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of the jelly he’d used earlier.

But his attention wasn’t on me—at least not yet. His eyes were locked on the guy standing next to him, a tall, handsome masculine man who exuded raw confidence. This guy had a beautiful hairy chest, a dense mat of dark curls that seemed to beg for touch. Mr. Peepers couldn’t resist; his slender fingers reached out, tracing the contours of the man’s pecs, tangling in the coarse hair. It clearly turned him on—his breath hitched, and his cock twitched visibly. The hairy-chested man, Mr. Chest, smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. He reached down, his large hand wrapping around Mr. Peepers’ impressive cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. Then, with a gentle but firm nudge, he guided him closer to my waiting mouth. My heart raced. This was exactly what I wanted.

His dick slid past my lips, warm and heavy, but not yet fully buried. Mr. Peepers was so consumed by Mr. Chest, his hands still roaming that furry torso, that his cock pulsed with growing intensity. He was getting harder, the veins along his shaft standing out as his arousal deepened. Mr. Chest, sensing the shift, grinned wickedly and nudged him further toward me. My lips stretched to accommodate him as his bulbous cock head pushed deeper, finally sinking his cock all the way to his balls. The sensation was overwhelming—his thickness filled my throat, and I could feel every throb of his excitement. He started to lose himself, his body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over him. I was right there with him, my own pleasure spiraling as I savored the moment.

Mr. Chest was loving every second of it, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He leaned in, nudging Mr. Peepers even further, encouraging me to take him deeper still. I relaxed my throat, letting him slide in fully, the act of deep-throating him sending sparks of bliss through my body. It was heaven for both of us. Mr. Peepers was completely lost in the moment now, his hips rocking instinctively. Mr. Chest, ever the instigator, leaned in closer, capturing Mr. Peepers’ lips in a hungry kiss. His hands roamed freely, caressing the lean planes of Mr. Peepers’ chest and belly, fingers grazing his nipples before dipping lower to stroke his taut abdomen.

The room seemed to pulse with our shared energy, the air thick with the sounds of our pleasure—soft gasps, low moans, the wet rhythm of my throat working him. After what felt like an eternity of this splendor, my own climax hit like a tidal wave. My body shuddered, and I shot my wad, the intensity of it making my throat tighten around his giant cock head. He felt it—the eager, rhythmic massage of my deep throat—and it pushed him over the edge. He exploded deep inside me, his thrusts wild and unrestrained, his body writhing in total abandon and rapture. His moans were raw, almost primal, as he gave himself over to the moment.

We kept on for a bit, riding the aftershocks, his cock still pulsing faintly in my mouth. Then, slowly, he pulled out, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His glasses were slightly fogged, and he looked dazed, like he’d just experienced one of the best moments of his life. I felt the same, my body humming with satisfaction, my lips tingling from the intensity of it all.

It was glorious, a slice of paradise in that dimly lit room. As he stepped back, giving me a shy, almost grateful nod, I couldn’t help but hope I’d see him again sometime at the same place. Maybe he’d be back in the sauna, that jar of petroleum jelly in hand, ready for another moment of heaven on earth.

HR Wouldn’t Like This

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

Monday came with the faint static hum of fluorescent lights and a thick, post-weekend quiet that settled over the office like fog. I arrived early—too early, really—and spent longer than usual adjusting the height of my chair, the alignment of my monitor, the placement of my stapler. My thoughts weren’t on emails or schedules. They were with Sean.

Since Friday night, I hadn’t been able to stop replaying that meeting. The closeness of his body. The glass of scotch. The brush of his thigh. And that file with nothing in it—an invitation disguised as protocol. The way he made a question feel like a proposition. The way he looked at me.

But Monday brought only distance. Sean passed my desk mid-morning, offering a nod so casual I almost wondered if Friday had happened at all. I had just stood to stretch when he paused beside me.

“Hey, Blake,” he said, glancing at his phone, “I’ve got a call at noon and I promised I’d grab something from La Fenice. Would you mind picking it up for me if you’re heading out anyway?”

His tone was light, polite. It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t even framed as a favor. Just a question with plausible deniability. I wasn’t heading out. But I said yes.

“Of course,” I replied.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes lingering on mine a beat longer than necessary. “I owe you.”

La Fenice was a twenty-minute walk and notoriously slow with takeout orders, but I made it back just in time. I placed the box on his desk, careful not to interrupt what looked like focused work. He looked up, took it, and smiled faintly.

“Appreciate it,” he said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

His words were simple. But the way he said them—and the way he didn’t look away—left something in the air between us. His eyes were metallic blue, the kind that didn’t just look at you, but through you. They held their own language—quiet, confident, always just shy of flirtation.

The rest of the week followed a quiet pattern. Nothing overt. Nothing inappropriate on its face. But each interaction carried a weight, a question.

Tuesday afternoon, I passed his office and found him crouched by his desk.

“Dropped my pen,” he said without turning. “Mind?”

I crouched automatically. As I reached beneath the desk, I felt his gaze on my back, a pause just long enough to register. When I handed the pen to him, his fingers brushed mine.

“Thanks,” he said. There was that smile again—small, deliberate, unreadable.

Wednesday morning, he stopped by my desk in a fitted navy suit that seemed tailor-made to show off the taper of his waist, the width of his shoulders. Even the way he held his coffee cup—effortlessly elegant—made my stomach flip.

“There’s an old box of trial exhibits down in storage—I was going to ask Peter to grab it, but he’s tied up. You wouldn’t mind?”

I hesitated. The task was beneath my role, everyone knew it. But Sean’s tone was disarming, his expression earnest.

“I know it’s not your job,” he added quickly. “I just figured you might have a moment.”

He turned before I could respond.

I went anyway.

The file room was cold, dimly lit, and stacked with unlabelled boxes. It took longer than expected to find the right one. When I returned, Sean was leaning against the corner of his desk, sipping his coffee, chatting with one of the articling students.

He didn’t say anything when I entered—just gestured lazily toward a low cabinet beside his desk. “There’s fine,” he said, mid-conversation.

I crouched to place the box, acutely aware of how low I had to bend to set it down gently. I could feel his eyes on me. Not just watching—appraising.

When I stood and turned, the articling student had already gone. Sean gave me a faint smile and nodded toward the door. “Perfect. Appreciate it.”

That same half-smile that said everything and nothing at once.

By Thursday, I was unraveling. My body had become attuned to him—his footsteps, his voice, the scent of his cologne drifting through the air like a promise. I caught myself watching him from my office doorway, mesmerized by how he carried himself. Every movement was composed but casual, as though the world tilted to accommodate him.

The worst part wasn’t the things he asked me to do—it was how much I wanted to do them. Not because I had to, but because each one felt like an invitation. A signal.

Every time I bent to retrieve something for him, I wondered if he was watching. Every time he smiled at me, I felt stripped bare.

That afternoon, he passed my desk and paused. “Got a couple of things I’d love your thoughts on. My office, 5:45?”

“Sure,” I said, my voice too quick.

When I arrived, he was already seated, jacket off, sleeves rolled. His forearms were lightly tanned and dusted with golden hair. There was a confidence in the way he sat, legs apart, one ankle resting on his knee like he had nothing to prove.

A folder sat on the table between us, but he didn’t touch it.

“You’ve been really helpful this week,” he said. “I notice things like that.”

I nodded, unsure how to reply.

He studied me, his eyes dragging slowly over my face, then down—unapologetic. “I like working with people who understand subtlety.”

I swallowed.

Then, finally, he opened the folder. Inside were a handful of pages—client notes, billing details, nothing urgent and nothing he couldn’t have reviewed without me. He flipped through them slowly, reading aloud a few items, asking for my opinion on things I had no direct involvement in.

It was obvious. None of this was about the file.

This was about watching me sit across from him. About seeing how I reacted to his presence, how I filled the silence, how I handled being summoned for a meeting that didn’t need to happen.

His smile was slow, patient. “That’s all. Thanks, Blake.”

He turned his attention back to the folder as though the meeting were over. But I lingered a moment longer, waiting for something else. Another word. Another glance.

None came.

So I left.

But his presence followed me all the way home.

Friday came with a fresh snowfall, softening the city and throwing pale light through the office windows. I arrived to find Sean already at his desk, collar open, hair slightly mussed in a way that only made him look more intentional. He greeted me with a glance, not a word.

Around ten, he appeared at my office door with a coffee in hand—mine, apparently, though I hadn’t asked.

“Thought you could use it,” he said.

I blinked, accepting the cup. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He turned to leave, then paused. “Could you drop off the Summers file at Sandra’s desk on your way to lunch? She needs it and I’m tied up until after one.”

Again, polite. Again, simple. I nodded.

“Appreciate it.”

The file wasn’t urgent. It could’ve waited. But he asked, and I responded.

That afternoon, I watched him lead a meeting in the large glass-walled boardroom. He stood, gesturing with slow confidence, wearing a charcoal blazer over a soft black turtleneck. His presence filled the space, not through volume or bluster, but through the steadiness of his voice, the calm precision of his words. Everyone deferred to him. Even the senior partners leaned in.

I lingered by the water cooler longer than I needed to, watching the way he moved, how the fabric stretched over his shoulders, how effortlessly he commanded attention. When he looked up and caught my eye through the glass, he didn’t flinch or nod—he just held the gaze for a second longer than necessary, then looked away.

A flicker of recognition. A subtle taunt.

Back at my desk, I was restless. Unmoored. I opened emails without reading them. Typed responses and deleted them. My body felt electric, like my skin remembered his attention even when my mind tried to focus elsewhere.

At 4:15, a message popped up.

Subject: Client notes
Body: Quick debrief before EOD? My office. 5:45.

Just like the day before. Same time. Same lack of detail.

I stared at the screen longer than I should have.

When 5:44 arrived, I stood outside his door, smoothing my shirt, heart quickening in anticipation. A part of me already knew: there might be a folder on the table, but we wouldn’t open it.

He looked up when I entered—not surprised, not particularly warm either. Just present. Focused. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar again, and his blazer hung on the back of his chair. The lighting in his office was soft, muted by the golden hour beyond the window, casting shadows along the sharp lines of his jaw.

“Close the door,” he said.

I did.

He gestured to the seat across from him, and I took it. There was a file on the table between us again—its edges perfectly squared to the surface—but neither of us touched it.

“You’ve had a good week,” he said. “Handled everything I threw your way without complaint.”

I felt my face grow warm. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“No,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine, “but it could have been.”

He leaned back slowly, studying me, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His posture was relaxed, but everything about his presence remained taut, alert. As if he were always listening for something beneath what was said.

“You’re conscientious,” he said. “Reliable. But there’s more to you than that.”

He let the sentence hang.

I opened my mouth, unsure what I would even say—but he waved a hand slightly, stopping me.

“I’m still figuring it out,” he said. “And I think you are too.”

He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a small black notepad. He flipped it open, scribbled something, then tore the page free and folded it once. He slid it across the desk toward me.

“That’s all, Blake.”

He turned back to his monitor.

I stood. Walked to the door. Didn’t look back.

The note stayed unopened in my pocket the entire commute home.

When I finally sat down and unfolded it, the handwriting was clean, precise:

Dinner and Drinks. Barberian’s. Monday After Work.

My heart fluttered as I read the words, a pulse of excitement blooming in my chest. Something stirred low in my gut, an ache I’d been carrying all week twisting into sharp anticipation.

I thought about the past few days—the quiet humiliation of running errands beneath my pay grade, for someone not only my junior in the office, but several years younger than me as well, the way Sean watched me when he thought I didn’t notice, the glint of amusement in his eyes every time I complied without question. I should have been angry. Instead, I felt consumed.

I wanted him—his attention, his approval, his control. And now, with Monday etched into the page like a countdown, I wanted whatever came next even more.

No signature. No instructions. Just a time, a place, and a promise.

My phone buzzes with a text as I pull up in front of my new place. It’s from Amazon informing me of different times some of my new furniture should arrive today. I don’t want to move, and my buddies are fucking pissed that I am, but it’s better for me.

I’d moved in with my old college mates not only because it sounded like fun, but out of convenience as well. None of us left school with the greatest jobs. Jack at least got an assistant coach’s position at a nearby high school, and Todd landed the midday shift as a physician’s assistant. Logan had, of course, gone to work for his dad’s company, and pissed and moaned that he didn’t make a shit-ton of money, even though he made almost more than the rest of us combined. Not that I contributed much. Me and my English have been freelancing and editing.

Thirteen months ago, however, things started looking up for me when a pretty decent publishing house offered me a junior editor position. The job doesn’t have the highest pay, but it’s a definite improvement, and I finally feel capable of achieving something in my life. I’m even in the running for a promotion. 

Like my buddies, I’ve clung to our college lives as frat brothers. The parties, the sex, the drinking and drugs. Still walking high on the idea that we were kings who ruled the world. 

Those years in school, along with these past living together, have been a blast. Rushes, hazing pledges at my leisure, banging all the chicks I could. Drinking all weekend. Showing off at the gym. Laughing at losers trying and failing to score.

My friends have always been right by my side, encouraging and joining in on the fun. They’re the kinds of people I’ve always associated with, so it’d been easy to fall right back into the familiar role after high school. Cat-calling, then insulting the girl if she offered even the slightest bit of rejection, fucking them and not caring if they enjoyed themselves—what did their pleasure matter as long as I got off—not calling them when I said I will, avoiding them afterward, shit-talking beta bitches, and harassing any guy who might have shown the slightest bit of ummasculine traits.    

Back in high school, me and my friends were popular jocks. Liked by almost everyone, envied by those few who didn’t. Perfect gentlemen to the teachers and staff, total dicks to the classmates we deemed beneath us. I’d enjoyed those years the most. People kowtowing to me, fearing me and what I could do to them. Pushing fags around because I could, offending annoying femi-nazis, roughing up the weaklings. 

I bet people might say I’m a bully, but, seriously, they need to get an actual sense of fucking humor. When I got to college, pledged, made friends with my other brothers, that side of me continued blazing right at the surface, until I realized recently it was starting to leak into my work life.

I’ve definitely made a few of the woman I work with feel uncomfortable with some looks or comments, I’ve pushed around those in lower positions—clerks, the mail guy, assistants—made offensive jokes to other Alphas like me while we laughed at coworkers, and reveled in any chance I get to outdo my rival, especially in front of the big boss. 

And I’ve loved every second of it. 

But I don’t want to lose my job if some bitch accuses me of sexual harassment—not that complimenting her looks should count as harassment, but whatever—or some loser trying to claim that I’ve been bullying them. I can act better, but not if I stay in the environment that encourages me to be an uncaring asshole. I don’t want to change, I just don’t want to get fired.

I wait until a minute past noon and figure it’s time to head to the door. Deciding to grab a decently heavy box—makes sense to show-off at least a little as I get established with my new roommate—I trot up the front steps and ring the doorbell. I do have a key already, but I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot on the first day.

Within thirty seconds, the deadbolt unlocks, the door chain slides, and the door opens all the way, revealing one of the last things I ever expected. 

In front of me is a guy of average height who’s wearing a pair of short black P.J. shorts with pink polka dots, a matching silk robe kept open so I can see his hairless chest, arms, and legs, and a rainbow feathered boa around his neck, and the word twink pops into my mind. He has an athletic build, but in a slim way. While all of this catches me off guard, it’s the rest of him that shocks me, like his jet-black, red-tipped mussed up hair, and the two silver hoops in his lips, the rainbow barbell in his nose, the black eyebrow stud, or any of the various piercings up his left ear. He hasn’t quite looked up at me yet, which gives me a chance to fix a more neutral expression on my face before he does, but I can still see the smeared eyeliner around his eyes.

This has to be some fucking joke. Am I really about to move in with this faggot? He didn’t *sound gay over the phone.

When he does glance at me, after a quick rub of his eyes, he does something of a double-take and then looks at me as though I’ve slapped him. He shifts a bit backward, and I think he might even gasp a little. Looks like he might’ve shit himself.

“A-Adam?” he asks, a quiver in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’m Adam Wilcox.” Geez, he even pales at the mention of my name. He seems like he might get sick. “You’re, uh, Lucas, right? Lucas…” Oh, shit, what’s his last name again? “Augrust?”

He hesitates before he glances down at his bare feet, saying, in a whisper, “Agreste.” 

“Right, right. Sorry.” 

Funny. The name sounds a tad familiar, but, for the life of me, I cannot recall ever knowing someone with that last name. Something about his face looks familiar, too, but I’d remember if I’d met this guy. Unless he’s nothing more than a blend of all the fags I’ve seen in the past.

When he continues doing nothing except standing there, looking dumbfounded and shocked and, I daresay, frightened, I shift my weight and clear my throat. This is off to a great start.

“So, uh, I guess I’m a little early,” I say in an attempt to cut through this seemingly unnecessary tension, which isn’t true, anyway. Last time we spoke, we agreed I’d arrive around noon. I suppose Lucas hadn’t been counting on my punctuality. 

It takes another few moments before Lucas seems to pull himself together and catch up to what’s happening here. He fixes a pleasant grin on his face, and, since the smeared eyeliner and the overall awkwardness of the situation have distracted me, I get the chance to notice how unbelievably pretty his green eyes are. While I have very little knowledge of color shades, I would say the color reminds me of a precious stone. Emerald or maybe jade? I don’t know the differences between the two; all I know is that Lucas’s green eyes are really nice.  

“N-No,” he says. “You’re not early, I just wasn’t…I was expecting someone else, that’s all.”

“What’s that mean?”

As far as I know, I’ve been the only one approved by the landlord to move in for the past month, and Lucas and I have chatted a few times via both text and phone calls. 

“Oh, uh, n-nothing.” He shrugs, and some tension eases out of his shoulders. It’s not what I’d call normal, but Lucas even chuckles a little. “I don’t know where my head is at today. Had a late night and I guess I pictured you a little different. Sorry.” He gives me a wobbly, nervous grin and steps aside. “Come on in, A-Adam.”

***

Almost three months have gone by in the blink of an eye, and, honestly, things have been pretty great. Despite our initial strange meeting, I’d consider Lucas something of a friend now. Maybe not full-on friendship, but it’s a little more than two strangers sharing the same space. I never thought I’d say this about a guy who looks like him, but Lucas is a fun dude. 

At first, I thought this whole arrangement was doomed from the start. The first few weeks after I moved in, Lucas avoided me like the plague, like my very presence terrified him. When we did interact, he wouldn’t look me in the eye, and if our gazes did meet, he’d quickly look away. 

Around the end of that month, he started warming up to me more. I don’t know, maybe it had something to do with my domineering physique and personality intimidating his meek, effeminate nature.

I’m pretty sure we’ve accidentally fallen into designated roles. Lucas has a submissive personality, and I have a dominant one, and we fit well enough together that it’s easy to exert my dominance over him. Which means I word something as a request when it’s really an order, and Lucas happily bounds off to do it. He fetches me drinks and food, does my laundry when he does his, cooks me meals, among other stuff. He’s even given me money for lunch when I hinted I might be short. 

This arrangement works better than I could have imagined. Not only do I still get to be the virile Alpha male that I am toward Lucas, but without the guys around, I’ve been behaving better at work. Enough, at least, that no one can accuse me of anything that might lead to disciplinary actions against me. 

I’ve caught him once or twice eyeing me, as though expecting me to do something, and sometimes, I catch that gleam of fright in his eyes like on that first day. At first, I thought he was checking me out, even flirting with me, and then feeling embarrassed when I caught him. If Lucas had done so right away, I probably would have kicked his ass. Thankfully, I got to know the guy before I ever noticed, and now I kinda just find it flattering. It’s not all that different from a chick checking me out. 

I’m attractive, hot even, so of course people attracted to males might give me a few lingering glances. At six-foot-two, I’m basically two-hundred pounds of muscles with a mop of cinnamon brown hair and cornflower blue eyes. I know nothing about shades of colors, but the girls all say so. After they’ve swooned over my body.

To save him the embarrassment of me rejecting him, I’ve been lauding hot woman around him. Just so he knows that, even if I was into guys, I’d be way out of his league. Maybe I’d use them for a fuck or two, but they’re essentially the ugly chick I take home when there’s no one left. 

So, yeah, this move was a great decision. 

Except for the dreams. 

They started about a month ago, and I’ve been having them every night. I can’t quite remember them in detail, but I know they all feature Lucas. They’re centered on him being happy.  When I wake, I find myself thrilled that Dream Lucas left in a pleasant mood. On the off chance that Dream Lucas leaves in a bad mood, I wake feeling shame and guilt.

This morning I woke feeling normal, with no recollection of last night’s dream at all. Maybe this means they’re done, and I don’t have to worry about Dream Lucas anymore. I ponder this while I’m at the stove cooking Saturday breakfast. Pancakes and eggs. Only after flipping the first batch of pancakes, made to Lucas’s specification with a mix of chocolate chips and walnuts—I bet he just *loves all sorts of nuts—do I realize Lucas usually does this.

Every Friday, he texts me what I want for breakfast over the weekend. I tell him. He makes it. But I didn’t get a text last night. So now I’m up early on a Saturday, cooking a great breakfast, but not the way I want it. 

In fact, as I plate the food—three pancakes, two sunny side-up eggs, three breakfast sausage links, and two slices of toast cut diagonally and lathered in butter—I haven’t even made enough for me. Before I get the chance to contemplate this, Lucas walks into the kitchen, sporting his usual gay get-up, and smiles upon seeing me.

“Good morning, Adam,” he greets. “What’re you doing up already?”

“I, uh…I don’t know. I guess I wanted breakfast.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you hated sunny side-up.”

“I do. I don’t eat chocolate either, but I put chips in these.” I lift the plate to show him the stack of pancakes. “I wasn’t really thinking. Here.”

I put the plate on the table, where there’s already silverware and a cloth napkin, but I have no memory of doing that. 

“Thanks.” Lucas slides into the seat in front of the place setting and says, “You know what would go great with this? Some butter and syrup. Why don’t you get them for me?”

“Sure.”

Halfway back with the items, it hits me again that I didn’t think before moving. Lucas said. I did. Without question or complaint. And once I finish with that, Lucas says he wants orange juice. There’s none in the fridge, and I find myself heading out of the kitchen with every intention of running to the store and buying juice for Lucas. 

“Wait a second, Adam,” Lucas says before I can leave the room. “Water is fine.”

“Yes, Lucas.”

After I get Lucas a fresh glass of ice water, I place the cloth napkin upon his lap, and then stand there like some kind of idiot. In the back of my mind, I know I can make myself breakfast or get some more sleep, but I don’t move from my spot beside the table. Not until Lucas tells me to sit.

“I’d like to have a chat with you, Adam. About your time at Brookside High.”

Eyebrows pulled in, I shake my head, a little confused by that. I don’t ever remember discussing where we went to school.

“How…How’d you know I went to Brookside?”

“I went there with you, Adam. The pride of the Brookside Broncos, right? Star running-back. Captain of the basketball team. Graduated with honors. Did I forget anything?”

Anger surges through me, and I growl, “Yeah. I also made All-American senior year. What the fuck is going on and how do you know so much about me?”

“I already told you how I know so much about you, Adam, but I’ll go slower this time in case thinking hurts too much.” This little piece of shit faggot. Wait until I get my hands on him. “I. Went. There. Too. We were even in the same graduating class.” 

“Bullshit!” I shout. “I’d remember a pussy bitch like you!”

A smile breaks across Lucas’s face. Almost like he’s proud of the rise he’s gotten out of me. 

“I didn’t look like this back then, my dear. I was all lanky and awkward. No muscle mass at all. Bad acne. Thick glasses. Hand-me-down clothes that never really fit right. Nose always in a book, spent my time buried in academics, which you, for some reason, took as a personal insult.”

“Listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch,” I say through my teeth. “We have never met before. Even if we did go to school together, we had almost eight-hundred kids in our class! You have the wrong guy!”

Eyes rolling, Lucas sniggers to himself and spears a sausage link. He bites into one of the ends, rips off a piece, and makes a show of chewing while not looking at me, even though I can’t tear my gaze away from him for more than a blink. After he swallows, he points the sausage at me and smirks.

“Open your mouth, Adam.”

Inside, my insides boil, I’m seething. I open my mouth with every intention of using it to curse this motherfucker to hell, but I can get no further than opening it. Much to my horror, my jaw won’t do anything else, not even close. I can get noises to rise out of my throat, but I’m unable to form words.

Meanwhile, Lucas cuts up another sausage link into pieces and, after lathering them in syrup, he tosses one. Aimed at my mouth, and though it’s close, it bounces off my face, leaving a sticky patch of syrup on my skin. He pauses. Gives me a long, meaningful look.

“Don’t choke, dumbass. If it gets in, take that sausage and make it yours.”

This time, it’s me who rolls my eyes. While I understand what he means by that—catch it with my mouth and chew on it if he hits his mark—but he definitely worded it that way on purpose. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Adam, it’s disrespectful. I suppose you’d like an explanation to all this, hmm?”

Fire blazes through my eyes, my entire body engulfed in rage-filled flames. Lucas does have a point, though. I do want to know what the fucking is going on, but I can’t respond, and he keeps throwing sausage pieces at me, getting two into my mouth. I catch them, chew, swallow, and then go right back to holding my mouth open for him to keep trying. By now, several spots on my face are gross and sticky. 

“Answer me, Adam.”

I try. Since I can’t get my mouth to close, and I’m beyond compelled to do it anyway, I try with my jaw hanging. All this does, of course, is make incoherent noises.

“You really are dumb.” Lucas scoffs. “There is a very common way to answer yes or no questions without speaking.” 

I huff; a mistake since I’ve started drooling from having my mouth like this for so long. Since he is right, and I’m getting really sick of him insulting my intelligence, I nod in answer to his question. Yes, damn it, I want to know what’s happening to me.

“Close your mouth, Adam, you’re not a fish. And sit up straight with your palms flat on the table.” I do as I’m told, fixing my posture and planting my hands down before I think to wipe my face clean. “Now, since you probably haven’t paid much attention to our conversations, I’m work in a special division of NIMH.”

“NIMH?”

Lucas rubs between his eyes with a heavy sigh, and then looks back at him with an expression of absolute exasperation. 

“The National Institute of Mental Health. You should really read a book sometime. Anyway, I’m a hypnotherapist.”

I snort, which would be a lot more effective if I could roll my eyes, and say, “So you, what, hypnotized me?” I do nothing to mask my sarcasm, letting it drip from every word. 

“More like…reprogrammed.”

“You’re out of your mind. That shit’s not real.”

“Do you have a better explanation?”

“LSD? Roofies? Heroin?”

Rather than responding, which leaves ash in my mouth and rot in the pit of my stomach, Lucas tells me to clear the table, wash all the dishes, and then come back over to the table, where I’m to resume my position.

“You’re being absurd,” he says when I return, still with drying syrup on my face. “You’d be very sick if I’d been dosing you with any of that this past month.”

A month. A month, he said. Lucas has been doing this…whatever it is to me for that long already. God, he better pray I don’t break his neck whenever I get out of this shit. 

“Then what the fuck did you do to me?”

Another smirk twitches at his lips. Lucas neatly laces his fingers and rests them at the edge of the table. He leans closer and speaks lower.

“Tell me, Adam,” he murmurs. “Have you been having dreams about me?”

My expression must be enough of a confirmation for him because that smirk widens. Blood drains from my face as I reckon with the odds of this being real. How could Lucas possibly know that I’ve been dreaming about him? Why would I be behaving this way at all? What else has he done to me?

“I’ll take that as a yes. We’ll start with the subliminal messages, both audio and visual. The visuals hint at your new, profound desire to please me. The audio encourages you to feel shame if you don’t.”

All done by my phone, he explains. This gay ass loser cracked into my phone and did some stupid hacker shit to it, and I’ve been listening and seeing his bullshit hidden messages without even knowing. For a month. Along with the messages have been something called dream talking. Apparently, that means influencing me to obey his every word without hesitation while I sleep. Then he says something about putting Neoprazil Powder in my muscle builder shakes that he makes me all the time. I’ve never heard that stuff before, but only one thing comes to mind, and my blood runs cold.   

 “You fucker!” I yell. “You did fucking drug me!”

“No.” Lucas shakes his head. “Not the way you’re implying. Neoprazil is an FDA approved medication that we use with patients recovering from extreme trauma. All it does is make you drowsy, decrease anxiety, lower inhibitions, and bring you deep into a state of total relaxation.” He says this all so matter-of-factly. As if he hasn’t done any of this against my will. “Once the patient is under, I can help them navigate repressed memories, suggest more positive thinking to replace negative intrusive thoughts, and work through PTSD. Same principles here, I simply applied them differently.”  

“Are you seriously trying to tell me,” I ask with another failed attempt to roll my eyes since that would be disrespectful, “that you rewired my brain? You do know how—”

“Take off all your clothes.”

“—ridiculous this all sounds, right? I think you need some professional help, Lucas.” My shirt hits the floor before I realize I’m on my feet undressing, and can’t seem to stop, even though I’ve noticed and want to keep on the rest of my clothes. “Wait…what…” Gaze flying back to Lucas’s smirking face, his eyes conveying feigned innocence, panic starts to rise in my chest. “What’s happening? Why am I—” I yank off my sweats and step out of them. My hands immediately head for my boxers. “No! Oh my god, please, Lucas, please, stop this! Don’t make me do this!”

Hands clenching around the brim of the last article of clothing on my body, I find that, physically, I am able to resist, though it takes every ounce of willpower that I have, and I doubt it’ll last long. I know that I don’t want to do this, but something in me needs to complete the task unless Lucas says otherwise. This compulsion is overwhelming, and I can already feel myself starting to lose what little control still remains. 

“Lose it all.” 

Lucas snaps his fingers, and any resistance I have vanishes as I quickly shed my boxers and stand there, buck-ass naked, in the kitchen. A little voice in the back of my head reminds me that I can cover myself with my hands—they even twitch to do so—but a louder voice shouts that it’s not what Lucas wants, so I keep them at my sides. 

“Wh-Why are you doing this to me?” My voice trembles. Damn it, I’m actually afraid of this fucking faggot. “What did I ever do to you?”

The smirk and fake innocence gradually melt away, leaving fury on his face. Whatever he thinks I’ve done to him, it’s bad enough that fire blazes through his eyes.

“You still haven’t figured this out yet, you dumb fuck?” he growls, his angry breathing getting faster. Lucas pushes away from the table and turns his chair a little. “Get on your hands and knees, and crawl to me like the bitch you are. Then sit like a dog.”

There’s no time to even think about resisting, let alone trying, and I’m already on my hands and knees, crawling to Lucas and stopping at his feet, where I drop my ass on the floor and plant my hands in front of me. I glance up at him. Like a dog. Naked. And my entire face burns.

“I need you to know, Adam Wilcox, that I did try to give you the benefit of the doubt, I really did. I thought, we’re adults now, maybe he’s different. But, fuck, you immediately started taking advantage of me again the second you knew you could.” 

“Bullshit,” I mutter. “What do you mean again? We’ve never fucking met and I never made you do anything.”

“Oh, Adam, you made me do a lot of things. And now *I’m going to make you do a lot of things.”

This guy is fucking delusional. If we went to school together, I’d remember him; there’s no way I wouldn’t. Maybe if I try to reason with him, I can get him to reverse this shit. Once he does, I’ll beat the shit out of him.

“Listen to me, please. I couldn’t’ve ever done anything to you, Lucas, because the first time we met was the day I moved in.” The look in Lucas’s eyes shifts, and I think I might actually have a chance. “And I…I am sorry if I made you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” 

Yes, good. Talk the same way I would to a chick I ditched and wanted to fuck again, or to convince a girlfriend I wasn’t cheating on her.    

“I didn’t mean to. I thought you wanted to do those things, but we can work this out. We can split the housework a-a-and I can cook, too! We can forget this ever happened and get on with our lives.”

Somewhere during my little speech, Lucas lowered his head and now stares at the ground, which is good because it means his eyes aren’t on my naked body. Gorgeous as it is, I don’t want him ogling it. He sniffles, his shoulders quiver a little, and when he looks back up at me, tears swim through his eyes.

“Y-You promise you won’t be mad?”

Lucas fiddles with his fingers and fidgets in the chair, his voice maintaining that meek and timid quality it had when I first moved in with him. That fright and those nerves swarm all over him, and I know I have him right where I want him. This will be my victory. 

“Of course, I promise, Lucas. You have my word.”

A tiny, shaky smile touches his mouth as he wipes at his eyes, his breath hitching and chest rattling. Perfect.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” he says, a small sob in the back of his throat. “I dunno what came over me, please don’t hurt me, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

Oh, this is going better than I could have planned. I have this little bitch right where I want him. Where he’s going to stay. Groveling and begging. To me. 

“It’s okay, Lucas, it is. We all make mistakes.”

Lucas nods and rubs the heel of his hand into his eye, and then suggests that I might want to put my clothes back on. I thank him for that, allowing him to remain under the impression that things are going to be fine, and pick up my boxers. 

“Adam?” Lucas’s small voice picks up again when I start to pull them up. “Do you remember when you used to call me shit-stain?” Heart plummeting, the question has me fumbling with my boxers, and they fall around my ankles. “Or making me call myself that and lots of other embarrassing names?”

No. Oh, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. A look of abject horror fixes to my face as I turn to him again.

“W-What?”

No longer does Lucas look worried and submissive. The anger, while still present, is overshadowed by some vulgar intrigue. 

“Do you remember beating the shit out of me all the time? Pantsing me? Shoving me into the gym without any clothes on? Pissing on me? Humiliating me all throughout high school? Forcing me to do your work for you?”

He pauses there, as if leaving me time to respond, only I can’t. My throat is dry, my runs cold, shards of ice scraping against my veins, and my brain has been firing away a million things at once since Lucas said ‘shit-stain’. No wonder I’d thought he’d looked familiar upon moving in—he’s right. We did go to school together. And, yes. Yes, I fucking remember him quite clearly now, and that little list is just the tip of the iceberg.

When I say nothing, Lucas grins. Says, “You didn’t start out with shit-stain, though, did you? No.” He shakes his head. “There was something before that. When we were even younger, and I wasn’t the main target of your abuse. What was it again?”

I don’t feel any pull to answer, so he must want me to say it on my own, and I whisper, voice still quivering, “Luke the Puke.”

Lucas tries to hide it, but there’s a visible reaction to the sound of that. A flinch and a heavy swallow. All from some stupid childhood nickname. 

“All because I got sick once in school when we were little.”

“Not because you got sick,” I say, but the words sound far away from my ears. “Because you stepped in some of it and trailed it back into our classroom.” 

“I guess that makes it okay, then.”

Boxers still around my ankles, I shake my head. Not admitting guilt, but to expression my shock at all this.

“I-It was a joke, Luke.”

“I wasn’t laughing, Adam.”

“I was a fucking kid, Luke.”

“So was I, Adam,” he growls. “And I don’t go by Luke anymore, I use my full name. Most memories associated with my nickname are all sorts of fucked up thanks to you. Do not call me that.”

“Fine, I won’t, but, Jesus Christ, Lucas,” I grumble, “it was almost ten years ago. Get some therapy and move on with your life.”

“Oh, I went to therapy.” Lucas’s voice turns hard again. “A lot of therapy. We’ll get into that at another time. For now, we’re gonna lay down some ground rules. Stay undressed and get back over here.”

No need for him to get any more specific than that. Whatever Lucas has done to my brain doesn’t leave room for my own interpretation, and my body acts on its own, responding automatically by dropping back down to all fours and crawling to sit like a dog at his feet again.

“First of all, you’re going to show me respect, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Wait, what? That’s not what I mean to say. In fact, I hadn’t even thought the response, let alone the word Sir.

“No, not sir. Sir is what you call your boss or your teacher. I’m neither. I’m making you my slave, so I’m much more than that. Try again.”

I try to clench my jaw, I really do, because I know exactly what word he wants me to use, and he’s out of his god-damn mind if he thinks I’m about to use it. But the struggle within me starts right away, and Lucas laughs. 

“That’s a dumb idea,” he says. “Resisting is impossible.”

He’s right. Pain invades my mouth, fire burning across my tongue and dancing down my throat, and it’s been no more than ten seconds. 

“Yes, Master!”

The words burst from my mouth and the pain immediately recedes. I’m completely back to normal, if not breathing a little harder.  

“Good boy.”

A surge of pride runs through me from the compliment,  the smile on my face full of bliss. My entire body tingles pleasantly, even in my cock, which actually stirs a bit. War wages in my mind. I’m thrilled to have pleased my Master, but I fucking hate this kid and want to kick the shit out of him. Especially when that knowing smirk pulls up on his lips. 

“One of the triggers I programmed. Your objective is to please me. When I tell you have, it’s gonna feel really good, even if you hate it. And if I indicate the opposite, you’ll feel so guilty and shameful, that you’ll beg for forgiveness, no matter how long it takes. With me so far?” 

“Yes, Master.”

Fuck, I’m gonna kill this bitch. He’s got me doing this gay, humiliating shit all because of shit that happened almost a decade ago. Yet, at the same time, a part of me hopes he’ll reward me with those two words again: good boy. I may hate every second of this, but that felt amazing. 

“Smile for me, Adam.” As stupid as it looks, I end up with a ridiculous grin on my face, even though the rest of my expression very likely contradicts it. “You have other triggers as well, we won’t get into them all now, but you should know that there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. You won’t be able to tell anyone in any way what’s going on, even a subtle hint. No form of communication about this will work at all. You can’t leave, either, as much as you want to. And you do want to, don’t you?”

I nod, seething, but still smiling. “Yes, Master.”

“Well, it won’t work. Even if you try. Go on. You can try. I’ll let you.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” 

My first thought is to grab my clothes, so I don’t leave the house naked, and the smile on my face has gone away, presumably because of this chance to escape. But Lucas tells me I won’t need them. Leaving them in a pile on the kitchen floor, I hurry to the front door. Better to get out of here naked than to be trapped. 

As soon as I get to the door, I reach for the doorknob. Right before I grab it, I freeze, and my mind goes blank. Everything gets all fuzzy, and I can’t remember getting here. What am I doing again? Why am I at the front door? It’s Saturday morning, I’ve nowhere to be. 

I shake my head, attempting to clear the brain fog as I make my way back to the kitchen where Lucas waits for me. About halfway back, I remember why I went to the door in the first place: to get the fuck out of here and escape Lucas’s fucking mind games. Spinning on my heels, I rush back to the exit, and when I’m there, I once again forget why. 

The process repeats itself. Over and over, for how long, I don’t know, but I can’t seem to stop, as if trapped in some kind of loop. Tears burn behind my eyes as I continue going back and forth with no end in sight. Not until I’m heading back toward the kitchen for the hundredth time or so and Lucas appears in the doorway, sporting that new smirk of his, while he gestures for me to rejoin him.

Only when I settle back in my spot at Lucas’s feet do I realize tear tracks drying on my cheeks. Much to my embarrassment and chagrin, he looks very pleased by this. I’d like to wipe my face clean, but I can’t move out of position. My clothes are also missing. 

“So,” Lucas says. “Not that you got that out of your system, do you have any more doubts you’d like to discuss?”

“N-No, Master,” I reply, holding back another round of tears. “But it was a long time ago, Master, please don’t do this.”

“Well, I’m not gonna do this forever, just the same amount of time you did it to me.” My stomach flattens. That means at least four years if he’s only counting high school. “And then, almost a decade after that, why don’t you tell me how you feel? Why don’t you go ahead and get hard for me?” 

There’s no way. No, he can’t have done something to me that gives me a hard-on by a simple command. I don’t know why I’m still questioning this, but I’m still shocked when I feel my dick coming to life, straining so hard all I want to do is grab it. I even reach for it to soothe the ache between my legs, but can’t actually touch it. My own cock, filled and erect without my own thoughts, and I’m unable to touch it. 

I can’t imagine how pitiful I must look, but Lucas must find it hilarious. His laughter pulls me out of my horrified stupor, and replaces it with utter humiliation. 

“If you want to come,” Lucas says, “you’ll have to beg for permission.” 

I assume the words are going to pop out of my mouth without the commands of my brain. When they don’t, I wonder if maybe the effects of this shit have started wearing off, and maybe I’ll regain control of my life. The smile on Lucas’s face suggests otherwise, and I realize he hasn’t given me an order, but left the decision to do it up to me. 

“I’m not beggin’ you for shit.” 

“That’s fine. You will. But, for now, since you’re so stubborn…”

Lucas gets up and steps further than I can see by looking over my shoulder, but I can hear him moving around a bit, the sink turn on, and the microwave starts. Within moments, the kitchen fills with the unmistakable scent of instant oatmeal. Not really my favorite, but Lucas usually eats various flavors throughout the week. 

When the microwave dings, I wonder how much of that he can possibly eat after his big breakfast. For another few minutes, I can’t tell what’s planned for me next, but I hear some pots or bowls moving around, and then Lucas comes back to me. What he’s holding in his hands makes me whimper and him grin.

“Come get your breakfast,” he says as he puts two silver dog bowls down by his feet. No matter how degrading it feels to be treated like a dog, I crawl the short distance to the bowls and start eating like a pet. “Play with yourself while you eat.”

If he wasn’t standing over me debasing myself for his enjoyment, I might actually thank him for the chance to touch my own dick. Although it does make for an awkward position—trying to eat and drink from dog dishes hands’ free while using one hand to jerk-off—I’m ready to blow within seconds, and my cock’s already drooling. Only it won’t happen. Every time I think it’s going to, when I’m right about to tip over the edge, it stops. Nothing. 

It takes me until I’m almost finished eating—longer than I would like to be in this humiliating position, but it takes a while to eat something I neither hate nor like—to realize that Lucas meant what he said literally. If I want to come, I need to beg him for permission. My body won’t let go without that explicit permission. He must recognize this dawning on me.

Lucas puts his barefoot on the back of my head and shoves my face into the bowl. This causes me to rock off-balance, and I hurry to regain it, quickly resuming the pointless stroking because the order to do so remains in full. Fuck, it feels so good, but without the gratification it’s torture. 

“You get it now?” he says. “I own you. Every part of you. So.” He lifts his foot and, gagging a little, I look up at him, oatmeal all over my face and panting from my desperate need to come. “From now on, you’ll be doing the housework. This place will be spick and span by the time I get back.” 

Gets back? Where the fuck does he think he’s going? He won’t leave me here like this, will he? 

“You will crawl around on your hands and knees unless you can’t avoid standing—or should I say, hand and knees, because you won’t stop that unless you absolutely need the use of two hands. You’ll go right back to touching when you’re finished using it. And when you’re finished, you will face the corner of the living room on your knees and continue edging yourself.”

“Master, wait!” I exclaim when Lucas turns to leave. “M-My clothes. Can I have my clothes back, Master?”

Lucas chuckles as though he’s forgotten all about clothes, and does a silly, innocent facepalm. Mixed in with the lightheartedness of the noise is something else entirely. I doubt it’ll be any good for me.

“How silly of me,” he says. “Hang on. Lemme grab them for you.”

While Lucas goes off to get me something to wear, and I still can’t stop playing with my leaking cock, I replay things over in my head. All this time, he’s been plotting this degrading, humiliating revenge on something that happened so long ago, and now I’m trapped being his…his…fucking slave because of things that happened back when we were kids. This is all his fault for not getting the fuck over it. If he thought I made his life Hell back then, he has something else coming to him whenever I get out of this.

Shame and indignity overwhelm me right now. The thought of anyone catching me like this, especially someone I know, is terrifying, and leaves a hole in my belly. 

“Here we are.”

Lucas’s voice grabs my attention. He must’ve been gone longer than I thought since he’s gotten himself made up for the day dressed in tight black shorts and a pink crop top, but when I see what he’s brought back with him, I nearly fall over. On a hanger, made with lace and frills, is a French maid’s outfit. A sexy little number, it’s something that would draw my eye to at a costume party if a hot, busty chick wore it. But I have a sinking suspicion that it’s not going to a girl.

“Oh, no,” I whine. “Please, Master, don’t make me wear that.”

A fake pout. Then, he holds it up higher, and says, “But I got it just for you. Come on, let’s see it on you. With a smile.”

Again, a smile forces its way onto my face as I dress into this ridiculous outfit. At least I’m allowed on my feet and to release my cock from its torture. Long enough to do to this, anyway, since the second it’s on, complete with a little lacy hat, I’m ordered back on my all fours to present myself to him. Which means sticking my barely covered ass up by lowering my beat-red face to the floor.

“Aww, look how cute my sissy boy is in his new uniform.” My skin burns even hotter. “Wiggle that bubble ass for me.” Another whine catches in my throat as I move. “You should thank me for getting you such a pretty outfit.”

The words, as much as I don’t way to say them, spill out of my smiling mouth while I continue to wiggle my ass. 

“Thank you, Master. It was so kind and gracious of you to get me such a pretty outfit.” To my horror, I go on talking. “I’m honored to be allowed to wear this gift from you, Master.”

“Oh, there’ll be a lot more than one coming to you,” he says with a swift slap to my ass. The force of it ripples through my body, and makes me grunt. “And if you’re a good boy, maybe you’ll get another. Stop wiggling your ass and smiling now and follow me.”

I turn and crawl behind him until we reach the front door.

“Here is the protocol for you whenever I leave. You will kiss my feet, two times each, beg for a quick and safe return to you, thank me for making you my slave, and promise me you’ll be a good boy while I’m away. And you’ll make it sound genuine.” 

I sigh with a nod as I lean down to kiss Lucas’s feet.

“Goodbye, Master. Please, please, come back to me fast and safely, I beg of you.” 

Oh, my God, stop, please stop, saying these things, I plead with my body to no avail, all worsened by the fact that if anyone heard, they’d think I mean every word of this. 

“Thank you so much for making me your slave, Master, I couldn’t ask for a better master to enslave me. I’ll be a good boy while you’re gone.” Shit, now I have a crave for him to call me that again. It’s so intense that I suddenly feel as though I mean all of this. “Oh, Master, I promise I’ll be good, I swear I will.”

Instead of rewarding me with those two words, leaving a pit of disappointment in my stomach, Lucas sneers and leaves. Once the door locks behind him, the need for him to call me a good boy and the disappointment that he didn’t vanish, and I’m left with fear and shame and humiliation. 

Even though all I want to do is get the fuck out of here, far away from Lucas, or at least curl into a ball and sob, I start stroking my dick again and awkwardly crawl back to the kitchen to start my chores. 

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

I never thought I’d find myself in this situation.

I was sitting in the living room with Alex, my sister’s boyfriend. He was stretched out on the couch, one leg pulled up, the other resting casually on the floor. He was holding a beer in his hand, which had already warmed up a bit. A movie was playing on TV, but neither of us was really watching the screen. The atmosphere was… different than usual. Quiet. Tense. Maybe it was because we had been alone since my sister left on a week-long business trip. Maybe it was because Alex was in sweatpants and looked like he had just gotten out of the shower. Or maybe it was because I caught myself staring at his neck for too long. And his shoulders. And how his T-shirt fit him a little too well.

Finally, he cleared his throat, as if he was about to say something important.

“Matt?”

I turned to him, trying to look natural, even though my heart was racing.

“Hm?”

He hesitated. He looked at me with what could be called curiosity. Or… concern.

“What’s it like… being gay?”

I didn’t answer right away. The question hit me right in the gut, even though it was asked calmly. As if it were just a casual conversation about the weather. But it wasn’t.

“That’s a pretty general question,” I said slowly, cautiously. ”What exactly do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged but didn’t look away. ”What’s it like… to be attracted to guys? What’s it like from the inside? What turns you on?”

I laughed quietly, more out of embarrassment than amusement. I leaned back more comfortably on the sofa, trying to buy some time.

“I think it’s the same as everyone else. You look at someone and you just… feel it. You start to be drawn to them. You notice their movements, their scent, their voice. You want to be close. To feel their touch. To kiss them. To be touched.”

He looked at me intently. Suddenly, this innocent topic was no longer so innocent.

“So… it’s more about emotions? Or physicality?”

I sighed.

“Both. Sex without emotions can be fun. But when feelings come into it… it’s like another dimension. Everything is more intense. Deeper. Stronger.”

Alex tilted his head, staring at me. His gaze was different. Not provocative. More pensive. But there was something else in it. Something that was starting to worry me.

“And… how is it from the other side?” he asked after a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“You know… being with someone. With a man. Physically. What’s it like?”

I fell silent, feeling myself getting hot. Not because the question was strange. But because I didn’t expect it from him.

I looked into his eyes, searching for some kind of clue.

“Are you talking about sex?”

He nodded.

“Yes. But… you know. Seriously. Out of curiosity.”

I clenched my hands on my knees. I felt I had to phrase this carefully.

“It depends on the people. On trust. Intimacy between men can be very intense. There’s something raw about it, but also incredibly close. No one pretends. There are no roles.” Both guys know what they want. And when it happens… it’s a damn powerful experience.

Alex didn’t answer. He took a sip of beer and pushed the bottle aside.

“What if… I just wanted to see what it’s like?”

I froze.

“What?”

He shrugged, but his voice was quiet.

“I’m curious. Just like that. No strings attached. Just to… see.”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had the feeling that something had just shifted between us. Something huge.

“Alex…” I began.

“I’m not saying I’m gay.” He cut me off. ”But… you’re damn attractive. And if someone were going to show me that, I’d want it to be someone I trust.”

He fell silent, letting his words hang between us.

I felt my throat tighten. There was no longer just curiosity in Alex’s eyes. There was something much deeper.

And then I realized that this conversation would change everything.

We sat in silence for a moment. The movie was still playing on TV, but neither of us was even pretending to watch it anymore. The air was thick, almost impossible to breathe. I looked at Alex as if I was seeing him for the first time—not through the lens of “my sister’s boyfriend,” but as a man who had just opened a door for me that I never expected to see open.

“I agree,” Matt said.

I kissed him first, cautiously, slowly. Our lips met in a soft, searching kiss that grew deeper with every second. Alex sighed as if the touch was already breaking something inside him.

I slid down, kissing his neck, his collarbone, his chest. I could feel his body reacting—every muscle tense, every breath heavier.

When I reached his pants, I looked up at him questioningly. He nodded.

I slowly unzipped his fly and pulled him out. He was already hard, throbbing. I took him in my hand and leaned down, touching the tip with my tongue, circling it.

Alex moaned softly, resting his head against the wall behind him.

I took him into my mouth. Slowly, deeply. I could feel him pulsing against my tongue. I moved along his shaft, rhythmically, carefully.

“Matt…” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

He liked it. Every moan was confirmation. I sucked him calmly, confidently, until his whole body trembled with tension.

At one point, he grabbed my shoulders and lifted me slightly.

“I want… to try more,” he said, and in his eyes burned a fire I hadn’t seen there before.

He didn’t wait. He knelt behind me, kissing my neck, my back, until finally his hands cupped my buttocks. He spread me open sensually, and then I felt his tongue. Wet, warm, determined.

I moaned loudly, surprised by the intensity. Alex didn’t stop—he licked me for a long time, persistently, skillfully, as if he had done this before. I could feel his saliva, his breath, his tongue sliding into me, alternating with short, intense thrusts.

I held on to the pillow, trembling, grinding my hips in response.

“I want to go in,” he whispered. 

I was ready.

I felt the tip of his penis, warm and slippery with saliva. He slid into me slowly, his breath tense. My scream broke the silence of the room, but not out of fear—out of pleasure, out of that incomprehensible mixture of pain and desire. He stopped, giving me time to get used to it. Then he moved gently.

With each movement, he filled me more, deeper.

I could hear him moaning—a low, drawn-out sound, full of delight. Each thrust was precise, strong, complete. He thrust deep inside me and stayed there for a moment, trembling.

“Matt…” he whispered. ”You’re so… tight, warm…”

I couldn’t answer. My body spoke for me.

His pace quickened. Our bodies collided with a soft slap. I felt his breathing become shallower, his movements more desperate.

And then he froze.

He let out a throaty moan, almost drawn out, and then I felt warmth… spreading through me slowly, unstoppably. His breath roared in my ear, heavy, ragged, full of relief and something that resembled delight.

He filled me completely, deeply, as if at that moment he had given me everything he had.

He collapsed on top of me, wrapping his arms around me.

And then he said something that stayed with me all night:

“Matt… that was great. And… I think I’d like to do it again.”

---

Note to my readers

If you like this story, please consider supporting my work. You’ll find early access to future chapters, new stories and more on my Patreon.

 After several years of being a “straight” guy receiving, sometimes giving head, and occasionally topping a random guy in a booth, I really started to be curious about getting fucked. I met an older guy with a thick 10″ cock that taught me the ropes of being a bottom. The one thing I never got from my time with him was the spit-roasting I had come to crave.

One Sunday afternoon I decided I was going all out to make it happen. I put on my red jock strap and some gym shorts and headed to the adult theaters. This theater has one straight theater, two gay theaters, and booths with glory holes. After paying admission I went into the straight theater and sat down on my own couch near some other guys. I was looking around, making it obvious I was interested in the action in the room and not on the screens. Right away a good looking guy was waving 8″ at me. I moved over to him, dropped to my knees. I started working his dick like my life depended on it.

I pulled my shorts down to show my ass. I was aware that several guys were watching the show. I even felt a hand on my ass and got a little smack, but nothing else. The guy I was blowing was very vocal when he shot his load in my mouth. I swallowed and thanked him. I went into the gay theater and pretty quickly was going down a guy that was probably only 21. I felt a few smacks on my ass this time and even someone probing me with their finger a bit. No one took the bait. I wandered to the other theater, but there was no action, so I headed to the glory holes.

I left my door unlocked so that I might get used while I was servicing a guy through the hole. Five dicks later and 7 loads total, it wasn’t working out. I was starting to think I was going to strike out. I was having fun but not getting the spit roast I wanted.

I resigned myself to it not happening I went into the bigger of the two gay theaters, past all the rows of couches and posted up against the wall. I pulled out my dick was stroking casually. There were at least a dozen guys in there. Two were in the corner stroking each other, but aside from that, everyone was keeping to themselves. A couple of guys had been following me and were interested, I could tell, but hadn’t made a move. Quite suddenly a new guy came in, saw me and came over. Very quickly we were stroking each other and then I dropped to my knees. He had a beautiful delicious cock. He left his bottle of poppers open right next to my nose for quite a while. I had never used them before, but recognized the euphoria that I had heard was the result.

Several guys started surrounding us. After a brief time the guy I was sucking peeled off with another guy. I stood up and turned around to see a handsome lumberjack looking guy watching me. I unzipped him and found an extremely thick cock with a big mushroom cap. I noticed multiple guys around me with their cocks out while I tried fitting this beast down my throat. Suddenly he stood me up and pulled my shirt off and my shorts down. He put some lube on his rock hard dick. I turned towards the back of the couch we were standing next to and leaned over the back. I felt the lube hit my waiting hole and he started to press his way in.

The initial pain was immense. I’d had a long dick before but never one so thick. I managed to get him to give me time to adjust, then he started fucking me in earnest. He grabbed onto my shoulders and was pounding me. It was still hurting but felt amazing at the same time. Apparently he was getting close. He leaned into me and said he didn’t want to cum yet. I was initially disappointed, but that quickly faded as one of the others used some more lube and slid into me without even asking. He was smaller but it felt great as the first guy had prepped me. He pushed my head down even with the couch. That’s when my fantasy came true. There was a long hard cock pointed right at me face. He slid it in my mouth and forced me to deep throat him, my nose buried in his trimmed pubes. As I focused on breathing through my nose, I heard the guy fucking my ass moan and then shoot his load in me.

Only a few seconds later I felt another dick at my now sloppy hole. He pushed right in and started fucking me. I quickly felt the cock in my mouth twitch and then my mouth fill with a huge load as I struggled to swallow all of it.

For the next 45 minutes guys continued to take turns on my mouth and ass. Some just stood next to me and jerked their loads onto me. Some went multiple times.

When the last guy finished, I slumped to the floor. Cum was dripping from me. One last guy had been watching the whole time. He told me to open my mouth so he had a target and to finish myself. I was naked on the floor except for shoes and jock strap, sitting in the mixture of cum from several guys. This stranger painted my face while I was still jerking myself off. I felt humiliation and ecstasy. From that day on, I don’t consider myself straight anymore.

The human toilet 

It’s around 3 AM and I was stripped naked with my legs and arms tied apart , my legs hanging up from the ceiling spread wide apart, my hands tied wide apart, my balls tied leashed and tied to the ceiling tight, My cock uncaged, my nipples pierced and chained, my cock freshly pierced bleeding from what Mohammed and Dilip did to me, Akshay and vimal setting the cam to record me, my mouth gaged with a huge dildo strapon tied to my mouth, I can’t even utter a sound, it hurts everywhere, irfan and Mohamed came near me, irfan started to kiss me every where , he started with my neck licking and kissing and biting me having his way with my body, licking my salty dirty cum and piss drenched body everywhere, he started shocking me and fingering my boy pussy, aahhh his hands were big and had a very tight grip , I was chocking on the dildo more and more , all the while Mohammed preparing water hose, he removed the dome of the hand shower from hose, irfan removed his fingers then he held me tight while Mohammed inserted the hose down my anus, I started to scream and move my head while irfan held my neck and licked my body, he was sucking my nipples as if nothing were happening to me, Mohammed didn’t care about my intestine just inserted as deep as he can down my anus, from the fucking and tortures they did my prolapsed anus was bleeding and fractured hurting like hell , the hose was deep tore its way deep inside me, I could feel it hurt my intestine inside me, Mohammed turned the tap, akshay and vimal drinking bear and enjoying the view, I guess Dilip, kannan, Anthony and Sanjay were are sleeping though the night while others played with me torturing and abusing me, irfan slowly climbed up licking his way from mu nipples through my neck slowly to my ears as he pulls down the chain hanging from my nipple piercings, biting my ear and whispering into my ears “bitch hold the water in, we are gonna bloat your stomach like a fucking pregnant whore” all the while Mohammed opened the tap completely, filling my intestines with water, I tried hard to closing my anus as tight as I can Akshay came in with a butt plug and a flex tape , he took the butt plug and inserted it in my ass hole and taped it shut, he just took a baton stick and started to beat my balls left and right, it hurt and hurt and hurt , I felt like I was gonna die from all their tortures, I was completely high, half unconscious, my stomach filled and bloated with water, I felt like I was gonna puke, my insides trembling, my limbs shivering in pain, I couldn’t take it anymore , I fainted as akshay hit my balls, Mohammed stopped the water, I was left laying there until dawn by them unconscious, laying like a piggy, they all went to sleep…

the next day , I slowly recovered , the time was around 11AM , I woke up to see Dilip and Sanjay smoking and waiting for me to come back alive, my body was sore reeking in everyone’s piss, my strap on tied to my mouth was removed, my stomach was still bloated with the hose strapped in my anus, my hands and legs untied, Sanjay came near me asked me to wake up, he kicked my face smacking his leg onto my mouth saying “wake up and stand bitch it’s time for us two daddies to make use of toilet piggy”, I slowly woke up with my shivering limbs and shivering and trembling spine, fearing what they are about to do, i say my stomach swelled big from yesterday and a hose shoved to my anus, I couldn’t move, I stood with my trembling legs, dilip laughing at me seeing me in this pathetic state, Sanjay pulled me close started to kiss this nasty being, he started to kiss my Lips my tongued in swindling and kissing me like I was his wife, holding my ass grabbing and kissing, he slapped and spit on me, he took his cigarette and used the tip of my dick to smush out the smoke, it hurt and burt my tip, I didn’t even have any power to scream , I just fell down from all the pain, dilip took the leash tied to my balls pulling it yelling “wake up you whore, we gotta go pissy and pee pee you fucking piggy “ I screamed in agony and woke up to his command kneeling before them, dilip unzipped his pants shoved his cock down my mouth and started to piss, I drank his piss, his salty urination licking his tip as he pissed my mouth, I drank some and some flowed out of my mouth, Sanjay got ready next he removed his pants completely, I could barely open my eyes I fell backwards as Sanjay pushed me back, he said happily “nice position for using human toilet” he sat on my mouth asking me to put my tongue out with my mouth wide open, he sat and mouth nice asking me to lick and lube it for him , I started to lick his asshole, dilip went behind and opened the tap again, my stomach was hurting like anything, my cock was leaking cum and blood, Sanjay shook his ass really well as I kept my mouth open and started to shit down my mouth, I puked the minute he shit down my mouth, he grabbed my head tight and shit yelling “eat it piggy, don’t you dare puke and waste your golden treat, dilip held my cock as saying “see little piggy came soon much, enjoy ass the pain and pleasure we are giving him, do you wanna cum piggy, you want daddy to wank you??, I take it as yes since there ain’t no sound” , Sanjay woke up my mouth and face covered in his shit and my puke, dilip grabbing my balls saying “eat it bitch daddy is gonna wank you next, so eat it now” I eat his shit puking and eating it like a piggy, dilip took a box of nails and screws , “see piggy as much as we wanna see you cum, sissy sluts don’t deserve to cum though we took pity on you moreover you came without our permission, that a very huge offence” I cried miserably, the tape came out suddenly leaking water, dilip yelled “stop the water” Sanjay closed the faucet and took more tape to close it more firm and tight , dilip arrogantly replied “you whore this is gonna be the best and last time you ever cum in your life “, dilip too the longest screw from the box and inserted it deep down my cock hole, Sanjay held my feeble legs firm as dilip pushed it deep down my cock, he then took another screw and inserted it in my cock hole, I screamed in pain but he didn’t stop he inserted it deep in as well, he took another n another, raping my cock hole with long screws , totally there was 6 screws down my urethra, my cock grew stiff bleeding as dilip wanked my cock as the screws stayed in, dilip saying “oh dear could you feel the screws rattling in your hole, the rough thread tearing my urethra as I wank you more and more, dear cum quick or you won’t have a cock” he wanked me hard , he spat and wanked and wanked and wanked holding my cock hard and firm like he gonna take the life away from me, I did my best holding the pain, I came after 2 to 3 mins of wanking like a little tiny bitch, my cum was white and red, dilio slowly took one screw after another saying “this is the last cum of your life bitch, there won’t be any balls left after today” , the time was 2 PM Sanjay and Dilip left , akshay came in took my tape off , the water poured out from my anus flushing every thing out, it was a relief, akshay gave me a bar of soap, brush and paste for me to freshen up, I took my time in the restroom cleaning my bloody self up, as I showered I say my limp cock and my balls, touched it saw whether it works, I couldn’t feel my balls every though they were present I don’t think they are gonna work, it felt like one of my balls broke, my scrotum was swollen 3times its actual size, my cock was bleeding , my insides of my cock burning like hell, it grew stiff for a second among all the pain but it limped down immediately, I guess I’m no longer a man, I lost my manhood to bunch of wild beasts, I cleaned my self up, I tried to reach my Anus and check about it, I saw my Colon hanging out of my anus, it has prolapsed swollen and uncontrollable, I tried pushing it in but it didn’t go in on its own, It was hanging out of my anus like a tail, maybe I’m a piggy, I tried to push it in my anus using my hand, my anus my soo sensitive I felt my insides trembling as I touched, but I somehow managed to push it in, I couldn’t come out of that restroom out of fear, I heard Dilip and Kannan calling me out yelling “you mother fucking asshole come out quick “ , “where is daddy’s little play thingy”, “fuck you come out or we all come in and start from the beginning “ , I came out naked trembling knowing well that they are gonna fuck and rape me more, these wild beasts won’t stop until I collapse I guess, is it my fate or is it my wrong decision, I’m no longer a male , I’m just a whore , a pig, a slut for these wild beasts to pray upon…

END of chapter 3

chapter 4 : day2 the rape and continues 

for People who are wondering whether it’s all true or false, some of which I’ve written have happened and some didn’t, though it were tried upon me, I have over exaggerated some parts too but most of them are true, the chapter whole involve a lot more of tortures, public humiliation, public sex and torture, most of the time I was under the influence of some drug or another so I don’t remember a lot of what happened but it was unforgettable .

---

last and final, since I’m a free soul and a slutty whore here is my mail : [email protected] , feel free to send me dick pics , sexy pics, if you are open we can hookup or even host a gangbang 🥵