Author: admin

Pedro approached me, hard cock in hand. It was long and hard, not as thick as my father’s, but definitely longer. I could taste my father’s spunk in my mouth, but I was already salivating to start sucking that cock. My father’s employee didn’t waste any time on ceremony and immediately shoved his cock down my throat.

“Your father told me you were good at deep throat, faggot. Hold that cock in your throat, I want to see how many seconds you can last.”

Pedro took off his Fred Perry polo shirt, revealing a muscular chest with a few tattoos and a trimmed hairy chest. I took my right hand to that place of sin and masculinity while I was impaled in the throat by Pedro’s giant cock. It was then that Pedro grabbed my head, pushed in as deep as he could and started counting out loud in a deep voice.

“One. Two. Three.”

The seconds went by and I could feel his cock slamming into my throat.

“Move your tongue, you fucking faggot, move it.” Pedro ordered. Fuck, what a man. I looked at my father, who was sitting on the sofa with his dick half-flaccid, drinking his whisky on the rocks, prepared by his private slut… Me! I was my own father’s private whore. My father would even bring men into our own house to use me. Fuck, I was living a dream.

“Fifteen. Sixteen.”

I was starting to lose control of my throat and the urge to choke was getting closer and closer. My father’s employee’s cock was really long. Pedro then started slapping my face and looked at me father and said:

“Your son is a real whore at taking a cock in his mouth. Thanks for the bonus boss. Twenty.”

My father nodded and a perverted smile crept across his lips.

At twenty-three seconds I couldn’t take it anymore and choked, spewing thick drool everywhere and coughing loudly.

“So, faggot, you can’t take it?” Pedro asked.

“Slap that faggot in the face so he learns to obey a man.” My father ordered. Fuck, I didn’t even recognize that dictator, but I confess I loved him.

“Right away, boss.” Pedro complied with my father’s order and started slapping me hard across the face, making my clean preppy boy smooth face turn red and burn.

“Fuck his mouth.” Another order from my father, who was already hard again and slowly masturbating his thick cock.

“Okay, boss.”

Pedro grabbed me by the ears mercilessly and started fucking my mouth.

“It’s wetter than my ex-girlfriend’s cunt, that bitch was so fucking dry.”

“Use it, take advantage of that slut that today the whore won’t say no to anything. This is what he was born for, serving men.”

Pedro gasped, fucking my throat with repeated, rapid movements.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can take much more, Boss. This is a real pussy mouth!”

“Fill his face with milk so we can go to dinner, after dinner I’ll call the other salesmen at the stand. Let’s see how many of them agree to come and destroy his pussy with us.”

“Sergey will be def be down to do it, and Petrov too. Their wives are at a woman’s vacation together. They are lacking pussy.” Pedro said, his voice tingling with pleasure.

Fuck, they were the two blond, handsome Ukrainian salesmen my father had hired and helped out during the war in Ukraine. They were real gods and soldiers who had fled the war with their families so they wouldn’t have to fight.

“I’m going to call them. I doubt they’ll say no to their own boss.”

Pedro let out a loud roar and announced:

“I’m going to cum all over your son’s fag face. FUCK!”

Pedro pulled his long member out of my sored throat and started spurting cum all over me. The first jet grazed my cheek and went over my shoulder and hit the TV cabinet. The next five filled my face.

“That’s it, fucking fill that fags face with cum!” Howled my father, who got up in the meantime and started hitting my face with his still not 100%  hard cock.

I could smell the strong scent of Pedro’s sperm and my father’s cock was spreading that hot liquid all over my face, dirty with drool and snot from being fucked so hard in the throat by two guys.

“Fuck, boss! We should take a photo of your son’s faggot to send to my colleagues, what do you think?” Pedro asked, his cock dripping cum onto the living room carpet. It’s a good thing my mother didn’t live here anymore, it wasn’t something she’d find very funny.

“Good idea, do it!”

Pedro took his Iphone out of his pocket and took a flash photo of my cummed face. He laughed out loud and showed the photo to my father.

“A real faggot marked by a real man, I’m proud of you.” He gave Pedro a firm and masculine pat on the back.

“Congratulations on the sale of the Tesla.”

Pedro howled like a real proud animal and started pissing all over my face.

“Fuck…” I shouted without expecting it.

My father followed suit and started pissing all over me too. There were two strong jets of man piss that left me totally soaked.

“Clean up, take a shower and serve us dinner, faggot! You’ve got a lot of use to give to your fag cunt later.” My father ordered.

With my cock wanting to cum badly with pleasure, all I could do was say.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

“Good Faggot!” Pedro was laughing.

I washed the room of the piss that had spilled from my body and took a hot shower. I was soaked with piss on my clothes and hair, so luckily it wasn’t difficult to clean the room from the pissing session. The vast majority of it was actually on me.

I wore a jockstrap and a t-shirt by Lana de Rey, one of my favorite artists who writes a lot about daddies. I couldn’t wait to be fucked in the ass by my father, Pedro and whoever else came along. Fuck even my father’s suppliers I could give my ass to.

I went back to the kitchen and served them dinner.

“You can have your dinner too, whore.” My father said in a gentler voice.

“Thanks, but I’d rather serve and wait for the other guests.” I replied submissively. Fuck, my submissive whore side was really activated. Whatever those men told me to do, I was going to agree and obey.

I served them dinner and waited in my room with my ass winking after preparing it in the bathroom. I wanted to be fucked… hard! I had a pink but-plug stuffed up my ass, getting ready for the party.

About an hour later, my father shouted for me. I went into the living room like a puppy called by its master. Only my father was in the room, but I could hear manly voices and laughter in the kitchen.

My father blindfolded me with one of his work ties and placed me on all fours on some blankets on the coffee table in the center of the room. I could feel movement around me, his Ukrainian employees were already there, but I heard more voices. I didn’t know who they were from. I knew he had more salesmen, but I didn’t recognize their faces or names. My father’s firm, somewhat rough hands lubricated my ass with coconut oil, I could smell the delicious scent. He oiled my ass cheeks well, leaving it glistening in the dimly lit room.

“Use his ass, boys!”

That’s when several thick male voices answered in unison.

“Yes, boss.” And that masculine war cry sent shivers down my spine and turned me on. My ass flashed, I wanted cock, I wanted to be fucked.

The first one approached and without asking permission shoved his cock inside my oiled ass. I moaned loudly.

“Take it.” That was the reaction. It was one of the Ukrainians, I could tell by his accent. His cock was thick and opened the muscular walls of my ass. I moaned loudly as the thick cock opened my ass.

“Let me fuck him now!” The other Ukrainian said loudly and the first one pulled out of me, leaving my ass open.

The second guy took advantage and put his cock inside me, it was longer and made me scream. The second Ukrainian guy was even rougher than the first.

“Boss, your son has a delicious cunt.”

“Fuck him; and I don’t want you to take it out, I want you all to come inside right away. I want to see who’s rougher and can last longer.” My father, being the boss, gave the orders and made the rules.

“Okay, boss. I’ll pound it then.”

The second Ukrainian then started hammering my ass non-stop, the other guys in the room, who I didn’t know how many there were, commented loudly and encouraged him. It wasn’t long before I heard a roar and he stopped pumping my ass and filled it with milk.

“I should have been the first.” The first Ukrainian wasted no time getting his cock back inside my already milked hole.

“It’s wet, it’s like a pussy.”

The others laughed out loud. The first Ukrainian didn’t last 30 seconds and added his sperm to that of his friend and fellow countryman.

“FUCK!” Unlike his friend, he didn’t stop and continued pumping while moaning and roaring.

The night continued with a lot of cock in my ass. I honestly don’t know how many guys were in the room as some didn’t speak and had similar dicks. But I guessed there were about seven because of the different styles of cock I felt it. All my father’s employees and friends of some of them, from what I could tell from their conversations.

Pedro was the last to fuck me and I could smell his perfume and sweat all over me as he hammered my ass full of his colleagues’ milk.

“This cunt is wide open, boss.”

“Fuck him harder!” My father shouted in boss mode.

Pedro pumped and my ass couldn’t take it and started spurting cum everywhere. I ended up cumming without touching my little clit.

When everyone had left, my father made me pour all the milk onto the living room floor to see the rivers of loads inside me.

“That’s what you’re for, son. To be a depository for male cum. Will you take this job?”

“Yes, Dad. I want to be your cumdump.”

“I want you to quit your job and I’m going to pay you double what you get for taking care of the house and being my depository and of my employees. I’ll get a huge increase in employee satisfaction.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Thanks, Dad.”

“Good boy!”

Without wasting any time he threw me on the bed and fucked me like an animal and came inside, leaving me completely open and KO.

What a night!

Sacrament

Conclusion

When he was young his favorite movie was Quo Vadis. He grew up reading the Bible early because Mama read it all the time, and he would envision himself like early Christians, huddled in a room around the sacred mystery of bread and wine, body and blood. It never seemed like that in real church. He would picture the darkened mysterious places where hunted down Christians originally gathered, the room, fusty with the light of an oil lamp and the heat of bodies, people listening to Saint Paul or Peter or Whoever, doing something holy and different, hidden from the rest of the not understanding world. On a night like that, Eutychus fell asleep, sitting in the window, and the Book of Acts says he fell out of it and Saint Paul went down and revived him.

It was nights like that, and days too, when those souls threw cloaks over their heads and in secret houses, out of the way gardens and catacombs, they scratched the sign of the fish and spoke of Jesus, and Max never ever felt this sacred urgency in real church life. The churches of his childhood were built like space ships, made of pale and ugly wood. They didn’t even look like churches, filled with bad folk guitar music and annoying white people, and even though the priest would lift up a wafer and say, “Let us declare the mystery of faith,” there was no mystery, only bad bread and bitter wine and the same life.

It was only in those first times when he saw the symbols, ice cream cones, euphemisms, wandered into backrooms, passed behind the doors of bath houses, that he began to get a taste of that ancient mystery. Darius never once questioned the sacredness of their queer lives, the sacramental joining of bodies, the kneeling for new revelation, and as he and Max and Jamal sat, squatting naked, while Max cut down the meth into fine lines, and he took out the homemade device of a water bottle with a tube in it, and then the blow torch, he felt like they were in a true communion, on their way to the most sacred of rites that would take them out of their ordinary selves with their ordinary limits. Three was enough. If a fourth came it would be messy. Max heated up the metal part of his device and the left over residue became white smoke rising, He put it to his nose, pressing down the other nostril, and inhaled, then opened his mouth when it was too much, exhaling what was left. He heated the metal tip of and handed it to Darius who, almost trembling, slowly snorted his line. He was not neat like Max, he always made a mess of his and snorted smoke again and again. He nearly vomited at the acrid taste and knew he’d had enough. As Darius settled down to take in the high, Max heated the device for Jamal.

He was sitting there, legs open, body pulsating, caring less than he already cared, and in the distance the El rumbled down Thorndale. He took out his marijuana vape, then switched to a regular one. He cracked open his soda as he saw smoke trailing out of Jamal’s mouth while he slowly blinked. Slowly they smoked, and slowly they drank, and slowly the heat rose within them until, finally, Darius put down his own vape. Body pulsing, head swimming a little, he narrowed his eyes until they found the large bottle of poppers at the foot of the bed, and he reached for them. He shook them, closed one nostril and gave the strongest inhale he could. Carefully he closed the bottle, and body trembling, he crawled on the floor, on hands and knees, toward Max, opened his brown thighs, lifted his penis, and took it in his mouth. He knelt, fully, draping his arms over Max’s knees and closing his eyes as the drug took effect and Max grew in his mouth.

 

 

Inhaling lines was the perfect metaphor. When you put that burning metal pipe to the white lines and they turned to smoke, disappearing up your nose, the other lines in life, so firm and often so hard melted away. That’s why Darius was soaring in and out of his head as he swayed back and forth taking in the dimensions of Max’s cock, sucking him with intensity as if that penis were the only thing in the world. The thick boundaries of the sarcastic relationship between friends disappeared as Max, harder than ever, still not having come, raised his stiff penis, and taking a hit from the poppers, Darius’s eyes widened as he sat down on him, Max boring deeper into him as he pulled himself down. Jamal, sitting on the floor, his knees up, watched as he drank ginger bear and then, as Darius sat, riding Max, Jamal, curious, never having been quite as close to Darius as he was to Jamal, crawled to Darius and quickly swallowed his cock.

Jamal was in the shower, and Darius was sitting under the large window, legs open, still naked. Nude, Max plodded to the refrigerator and brought back two bottles of water and a cigarette for each of them.

Max sat down on the sofa and they were both smoking as the shower water shut off.

“The beach?” Max said.

“I wasn’t planning that, but then I wasn’t planning this whole day. So, yeah.”

“We should go up to the botanica off Francisco.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

Max thought of saying, see, and now Michael’s not on your mind. But of course that would have only put Michael back on Darius’s mind. Max felt relaxed, more than he’d felt in the last twenty four hours, and he was in general a pretty relaxed person.

When Max was fucking Darius, he understood. He almost understood when he’d been fucking Jamal. When his whole shaft stretched out and pleasure like lightning ran slowly up his urethra and glowed on the tip of his dick. He remembered fucking once, and the moment he’d jismed, despair, panic, the bullshit off life he’d been trying to escape overwhelming him even as he came. Even as the semen shot from his jumping dick he’d felt the darkness and confusion and maybe this is what men were running from, but today, as Darius groaned under him and he buckled up and down spilling his load inside of him, the moment of ejaculation was the moment of relief, the breaking of the three day fever, an incredible joy.

Jamal came out of the shower, drying his white boy body, that ass that was little and round at the same time, that long back, those thin legs. Hair plastered to his head, face like a Girl Scout.

“You guys are great,” Jamal said. “You’re like my fucking family.”

“Literally,” Darius said, reaching for a cigarette and sitting, Indian fashion, while he lit it.

“I’m gonna leave you some LSD and some shrooms. You okay with that?”

Max, putting his glasses back on, held his hands out and attested, “We would never complain about being given drugs.”

Leaving off his old underwear Jamal pulled on his black jeans and a red tee shirt he’d borrowed from Max, and then pulling his fingers through his hair, he kissed them both on the cheeks, swung his book bag over his shoulder, and throwing his arms around them and murmured, “I love you guys so much.”

He headed out the door and to the Thorndale stop.

He’d been gone less than a minute when Darius said, “Okay now… I think we both fucked him.”

“I think we all fucked each other,” Max said. “Which is a fair and equal distribution of wealth.”

“Well, yes,” agreed Darius, who was long used to Max’s statements, “but what about Kayla?”

“Kayla?”

“Yes,” Darius said. “Your goddaughter. His girlfriend.”

“The one who never calls and never visits? What about her?”

Max, who was pulling a long white kaftan over his naked body, looked almost contemptuous as his head popped up from the old robe.

He picked up his cigarette and puffed again.

“Fuck Kayla.”

Max was a complicated man, who did not believe in complicated relationships. He was straightforward in love, hate, fucking and everything else. It wasn’t like the other day when Michael, having called and been sent away, showed up. When he had taken them all to breakfast and then begged for them to talk and the talking had ended in kissing the kissing had ended in bed, and what was more, Rulon and Alex had been there to see it.      When they were getting dressed, and when they had walked around two for a while Michael finally said:

“So what do we do now?”

“We…” Darius said, “go home. By which I mean, you go to your home in Wicker Park, and I go to my home.”

“But what happened today…”

“We had great sex. And then you bought me milk.”

“We had great sex, and then I bought you milk,” Michael agreed in a tone that made it mean a lot more than when it came out of Darius’s mouth.

“And” Darius said taking the jug from him. “I appreciate that.”

“But….”

“But nothing.”

“So where do we stand?”

“As friends,” Darius said.

And then he said, “Did you think that telling me you were marrying someone else, and then us having sex and you getting me milk would change something? The only thing it means is that you’ll cheat on them the way you cheated on me. Which makes you a cheater.”

“Maybe it makes you a cheater too.”

“No,” Darius said carefully, “it just means I’m indifferent to your fiancé.”

He thought a minute and said, “I suppose it also means I’m still attracted to you, and I like sleeping with you. And for that… thank you.”

Darius thought a moment and then told Michael.

“I should say good night and go inside, and leave it at that.”

But then he kissed him.

“I’ll leave it like that. And… hope you have an excellent wedding. God help the groom.”

He had closed the door and shut it behind him, locking it, and for a brief moment he assumed he’d have Michael on the brain and thoughts of him all night, that part of him would run back and chase him and they’d start up some affair. Even right now, Michael was just walking slowly to the elevator, and then he would walk even slower to his car—not the greatest idea—and take a long time to drive back to Wicker Park.

But all of those thoughts only lasted a second, because he was not alone in the dark living room. Under the white moonlight, he saw Rulon Nelson’s long, naked body swimming the sofa, shoulders lifting and falling buttocks clinching and unclinching as he clutched Alex’s shoulders and deep sighs came from Alexis’s mouth while Rulon, mouth opened, eyes like black pinholes, fucked him.

Darius’s pulse was in his mouth. Sex made him tremble like this. Didn’t it make everyone? Wasn’t this why people were afraid of it, why they hinted at it, talked about but maligned it all at the same time? He had been a virgin far too long, a person who had not done things, walked away from doing things, being places, thought there as something to be said about innocence. But now he was himself. He didn’t care if people thought he was dirty. He didn’t want to miss anything. He didn’t mind being called a perv. His ass still hut from being fucked by Max. He could still taste Michael in his mouth. He slipped off his sandals and padded to the refrigerator. He put the milk away in the refrigerator, making a brief light, a brief noise. While he heard scrabbling and moaning, repeated thumping and an exhalation from the sofa, Darius went into his room quickly then came back. It wasn’t like TV or in the movies. They fucked slow and deep as death, sometimes in a hurry, Alexis crying out, Rulon’s shoulders and back white blue in the moon, Alexis rising on hands and knees, and Darius pulled out the easy chair which only made a little noise. He opened his Hawaiian shirt and pulled down his shorts. Snorting poppers, he stroked himself. He grew larger in his hand, feeling the trickle of nut from the head of his cock. Blindly it seemed, mouth open, Rulon looked on him. Alex’s head was bent as he pressed against Rulon, but Darius and Rulon looked on one another and, at last, Darius shrugged and his shirt came off, he pulled down his cargo shorts. He went naked to them. He ran his hands up and down Rulon, down the small of his back, over his ass. He gasped as he felt Alexis take his penis in his mouth. At the same time he kissed Rulon hard and felt his rough tongue in his mouth. This trinity lasted for a moment, before Rulon went right on fucking Alex and Darius moved away from them.

“Don’t worry,” Rulon said to Darius between slow fucks as Alexis gave a long, low moan,, “you’re next.”

The way he said it made Darius shudder so hard he almost came. Instead he only nodded, and went to his bedroom to find the glass pipes, the blow torch, the last of the ice they had begun the day before yesterday. On the futon, Rulon and Alex sank back into lovemaking, hidden by a cloud over the moon, and a sigh, high and heavy that was Rulon’s, came from the bed after another gasp of, “Oh, fuck!”

Michael and love and having a fiancé who cheated and cheated on his new fiancé with you was confusing. Sitting here naked in the aftershocks of lust, cutting up ice to smoke it and end up fucking till the sun came up, never was.

 THE END

The next week, I drove by the arcade hoping he was there.  My throat had healed, but I had gotten used to the soreness, and wondering if I can get it back.  I had been to the arcade several times after meeting him, but none had that Black shimmering skin, that construction worker body and that massive dick that deserves everyone’s worship. Was I obsessed?  Oh, yes.

As I drove by, i recognized his white truck.  I looked for a parking space at the arcade, but the lot was full, so i parked across the street at the strip mall and walked inside. Behind the front desk was the manager who handed me a roll of quarters. My oral skills was a reason many airmen returned to the arcade. 

I went behind the curtain to the booths.  The place was crowded.  I recognized several men I had serviced before, but didn’t acknowledge them because i was there for one man.  The arcade had twenty booths – two rows of five on each side.  I didn’t see him at all, so I figured someone was already working to get his nectar.  I was about to leave when I heard a door open and his voice call, “Boy.”  

I turned around and saw him, topless wearing blue jeans and work boots.  He smiled at me, and stood at entrance to one of the booths.  I nodded and started to walk toward him.  He met me in the hallway between the two rows of booths.  “Boy, I was hoping to find you here. Ready to leave?”

I was confused. I had just gotten there, and he was probably finished.  As if he read my mind, he said, “I haven’t bust yet. The wannabes here don’t know how to treat a man.  They think that my dick is to make them happy. You, boy, know why you’re here.  So wanna come to my place?”

I responded, “Yes,” and noticed one of his eyebrows raised.  “Sir” I finished.  “Good, boy. But you’ve already forgotten some things.  We’ll work on that, too.”  He wrapped his arm around me, buried my face into his pits, and lead me out of the booth area.  The manager chuckled and said, “Looks like you got a live one.”  I reached into my pocket to get the quarters and threw them behind me as we left the arcade.

“We’re using my truck,” he told me. “I’ll drive you back after we’re finished, so you have time to get back to normal before you drive away.”  Odd choice of words, but I didn’t care.  I was getting intoxicated, smelling the man whose truck I was going to enter.

When we were at his truck, he let me go and approached the driver’s door, and stopped, looking at me.  I thought quickly and opened his door. “Good manners, boy. I said you have potential.  Now get.”  

I rushed to the to the other side and sat down, closing the door firmly.  His toolbox was in the back of his truck.  So I figured he works with his hands.  He started the truck, and then, unzipped and pulled out his large dick.  “I want you to hold this in your mouth.  Don’t suck it.  Don’t lick it.  Just hold it.  Understand, boy?”

“Yes, Sir.”  I bent over and using my tongue, got his dick in my mouth.  Even soft, his dick was filling.  But I could breathe.  My mind was spinning.  I’ve never just held a dick in my mouth.  I was tempted to just move my tongue, just a little.  He slapped my face.   “Just hold it, boy.  Control yourself.  You’ll get to enjoy it more when we get to my place.”

So I laid there, my nose in his pubes and his dick in my mouth.  Every so often, he would stroke the back of my head, saying, “Good, boy.”  My mouth started to salivate, but I knew that I couldn’t swallow.  So the saliva leaked out of my mouth and down my beard to his leg.

I felt the truck stop and heard him shift into park.  “Okay, boy, we’re home. You can get up now.”  I sat up, feeling that my beard was soaking wet.  He looked down and saw his leg was too.  “Boy, clean up your mess before you get out.”  I leaned down again, and lapped at his leg, feeling his hairs against my tongue.  I left just a small wet area and swallowed the rest.  When I say up, he rubbed his leg.  “Not bad.  Good, boy. Now lets go inside.”

We both exited the truck.  He lived in an apartment complex.  All the apartments were on the first floor.  We had parked in front of his place.  He opened the door and walked in, tossing his keys into an ashtray.  I followed, trying not to show how much I really wanted inside.

Once inside, I closed the door while he turned on the lights.  It was a small apartment – a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bathroom. “Strip, place your clothes on the end table, then get me a beer from the fridge. I’m going to get you something.”

So I did what he said, folding the clothes before placing them on the table.  I was uncomfortable because i knew my cock was minuscule compared to his.  But I pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and returned to the living room. I stood with the beer, because I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.  He walked in from the bedroom with a black jock strap.  “Put this on. I don’t want to see your tiny cock.”

I handed him his beer and took the jock strap.  I put it on and just stood there, waiting.  “Looks good on you.  Fits too.  It’s yours.  Whenever you come and visit me, you must wear that.  If you wear anything else, take them off at the front door after you enter.  Understood?”

Nervously, I shook my head. “Your head isn’t a rattle.  I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.  Do you understand these rules?”

“Yes…” I quickly corrected it. “Sir.”

“Good.  Now model it for me.  Turn around.  Let me see it from all sides.”

I did as he said, slowly turning a complete 360.  I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I grabbed my waist on both sides, so he can see the complete jock strap on my body.  “Nice.  Come sit with me on the couch.  I want to know more about you.”  

I sat on a towel on the couch, near him.  I was afraid that he’d see movement from my little cock.  But I was in awe of his body. I didn’t know black men could have body hair and he did.  It covered his round shape chest and accentuated his abs.  I’ve heard of six packs but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it.  

“What do you do when you’re not sucking dick?” He said, pulling me out my appreciative stare

“I go to college.  Currently just taking courses I like.  Creative writing. Fortran. Calculus.”

“I only understood the first one.  What do you write?”

“Currently it’s a mystery detective story like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.  My characters are Richard Cougar and Raccen Blair.”

“Are you more like Cougar or Blair?”

“Blair, definitely.”

“Let’s see if I can find your cougar side. Let’s go to the bedroom.  Follow me.”

I waited until he got up and walked by me before I stood and kept behind him.  He sat at the corner of the bed and said, “Take my boots off.”  I knelt down and grabbed his right boot – one hand on the toe and the other on the heel.  I tried to tilt the boot to let his foot slide out.  It soon worked, so I removed the other boot the same way.  I was hit by the scent of his socks.  I must have inhaled loudly, because he said, “You like the smell of my feet?  Go ahead.  Enjoy yourself and when you’re finished, take off my socks, and place them in my boots.”

I didn’t know if I could lift his feet, so I lied down on the floor while I enjoyed the earthy aroma of his feet.  I didn’t want to be selfish, so I was only down there for about a minute before I started taking off his socks.

“Good, boy.  Now your reward.”  He stood up and removed his jeans, standing naked in front of me.  He looked down, asking, “Ever kiss a black man before?”

“Uh-uh,” was all I could say.  I never knew any man could mesmerize me like he did.

“Do you want to?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Get on that bed, head on the pillows.”  He turned us around, so that I could drop onto the bed and squirm into position.  Once rested on the pillows, I saw him crawling from the bottom of the bed, across my body, like a leopard approaching its prey.  He lowered his body onto mine, then his head, placing his full lips over my mouth.  He forced my mouth open and shoved his tongue deep.  I used my tongue on his as if it was his dick. His hands were massaging my asscheeks while mine roamed up and down his muscular back.  I felt his dick getting harder and longer.

“Now you can suck it.”  He rose his body up and rubbed his dick across my lips.  I opened my mouth and he shoved it all the way to my throat.  He would pull back until only the head was in my mouth, then plunged it into my throat.  He would fuck my face like that for a while.  He stopped, leaving his dick in my throat.  “You are really quiet while I’m fucking your face.  I thought you were a cum pig.  So snort like a pig and really get into this.”

When he pulled out, I made a sound with my nose that I thought sounded like a pig.  “Yeah,” was all he said.  He continued to fuck and I continued to snort.  I got so into it that I sat up a little so I could move my head and get him further down my throat until my nose crushed against his pubes.  I started snorting more and more, wanting him to know how much I am really enjoying this, and hoping that I’ll feel his load down my throat.

“Good piggy.  I knew you have that in you.  Now let’s find your cougar.”  He pulled completely out.  I looked up and saw a Man I could adore.  “If your mouth hid your piggy side, maybe we should look elsewhere for your cougar.  Lie on your stomach.”

He got off the bed and I turned over, offering my ass.  I don’t get fucked often, so I was concerned if I could take him.  I buried my face in the pillow. I didn’t want to appear too anxious.  I felt his hand putting lube on my hole.  He inserted a finger and rubbed it in and out.  I then thought why I wasn’t fucked as often.  “What?  Not even a purr.  Okay let’s try two fingers.”  He had his index and middle finger opening me up.  He wanted a purr, so I started to purr, and wiggle my ass too. “Ah, a little cougar cub.  Let’s see if this cub can grow up.”  He added his other two fingers.  I was in a little pain as my hole was getting more open.  I purred louder and more baritone than tenor.  “Yes, this cat is getting older.  Now if it’ll only growl.”  I started to, but he took out all of his fingers. I felt his dick head at my entrance.  “Now growl, cougar.”  He put over half of his dick inside of me.  I started to moan from the excitement and groan from the pain.  But it all came out like a growl.  While he was fucking me, I was growling and clawing the pillows.  “Ah, there’s the cougar within you.  I knew you were an animal.”  He went further and further into my hole.  When he hit my prostate, my growls got louder.  But eventually he hit an impasse.  “Boy, I’ve found your second hole.  This is going to hurt at first.  So howl and growl as much as you need.  Just no talking.  Be a good boy.”

I was worried.  I didn’t know I had a second hole.  If it hurts as much as when I was first fucked, I know that I couldn’t keep quiet.  “Ready, boy?”  I purred in response.  “Okay, here we go.”  He thrust and thrust at the new hole.  I didn’t growl or purr.  I whimpered.  Every thrust caused me to whimper.  Until he made it through.  “Good boy.  I knew you could do it.  Just let your whimpers settle down into a purr again.  I’m not moving.”

My whimpers showed that I hurt like hell.  I knew that it won’t be permanent, but to still hurt.  He started moving very slowly in very short strokes.  The pain started to subside and my whimpers went to soft purrs,  “Good boy.  You are getting used to me.  Soon your growling will come back again.  I’m going to start fucking you again and won’t fill you up until you start growling.” He pulled back, before the new hole, and shoved back.  He wanted to fuck this second hole.  In and out, poking it larger, getting the ring to relax so he can fuck as wildly as he wants.  

I tried to growl, but it didn’t sound right at first.  As the second ring started to give up and relax, my growl grew louder and louder, like I was saying “FUCK ME! FUCK ME!” but in growling cougarese.  He got further in me, until I felt his balls slapping against me, and heard his pelvis hit my ass.  “Okay, cougar boy, you’re going to feel yourself get full.”  He rapidly fucked me from my first ring through my second.  I growled, snarled, scratched, clawed, in extreme ecstasy.  My body not my own.  “I’m cumming, boy.  Get ready for it.”  A few more strokes, and he shoved his entire dick inside of me before he let go.  I could feel his dick pumping and twitching all through my ass.  I could feel his hot load shoot into my deep bowels.  He laid on my back, and his balls emptied into me.  His body was covered in sweat. 

As he recuperated, he rose up and jostled the back of my head.  “Good boy.  I knew there was an animal or two in you.  You did good, boy.  Want to come back and do it again?”

I purred.  He laughed.  “You can speak again.  So?”

“Yes, Sir.  I never knew how intense it can get, Sir.  I guess I never met a real Man before.  Thank you, Sir.”’

“Boy, I’ll give you my phone number.  Call me if you want to visit.  I work Monday through Friday as an electrician in a construction job.  We’re building the DuPont plant.  But I’m available Saturday and Sunday all day.  Now get the rest of your clothes on.  I’ve got to get you back to the arcade.”  

I stood in the room behind the church sanctuary, feeling numb all over. Surely I hadn’t heard her correctly.

“What did you say?” I asked, dreading hearing the words again, but needing to know that I was hearing correctly.

“I’m calling off the wedding. I can’t marry you,” Mandy said again, her face set and cold.

“But everyone’s here, we’re supposed to walk out there and say our vows in 10 minutes!” I said haltingly, tears forming in my eyes. “Why?”

“I’m just not sure I’m in love with you, and I don’t want to start our married life with doubt,” she said. Nothing prepared me for hearing that she didn’t know if she loved me. I sat down on a chair, my head in my hands.

Looking back up, I said, “How long have you been thinking about…?” I couldn’t finish the question, unable to say the words to describe the most horrible situation I’d ever faced.

“I’ve been having doubts for a couple of months, but just thought they were jitters,” she replied, way too calmly.

“MONTHS!” I yelled, standing back up as I felt the anger building in my soul. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?” The volume of my voice increased with my anger.

“Shhh!” she hissed. “Everyone will hear you!”

“Well, they’re all going to hear real soon anyway, might as well give them a show!” I yelled sarcastically.

“You’re an asshole!” Mandy exclaimed, her volume matching mine.

“I’m an asshole!?” I shouted back. “You’re the one walking out on me, you stupid bitch!” Mandy stormed out as I turned to look out of the window, anger and grief competing for first place in my emotions. Everything in my life had just turned upside-down in one sentence from my now former fiancé, and I had to figure out what came next. While standing at the window, I saw Mandy come out a side door of the church, and then my best man, Peter, followed her out. He grabbed her hand once they were both at the bottom of the steps, and together they went to his car and drove off. Shit. She was cheating on me with Peter. My best man and best friend. Or maybe former best friend.

The door opened and one of my groomsmen, Brad, stepped in. “Bro, I’m so sorry…” I held up my hand, stopping him from continuing.

“How long have you known?” I asked quietly.

“I just heard…” he started, stopping as I raised my hand again.

“How long have you known about Mandy and Pete?”

“How do you…?” Brad started, then seeing the flash of anger on my face as I turned to look at him, paused and started again. “I found out 3 weeks ago. I came home early and caught them.” Brad and Peter were roommates. “They told me it was a one-time fling and they weren’t going to do anything else. I told them they needed to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“I should have, and I’m sorry I didn’t, bro,” Brad answered. “They promised me they would tell you. I thought you and Mandy had worked it out. I didn’t know until today that they didn’t tell you and that anything else was going on.”

I broke down crying right then and there. My wife-to-be left me 10 minutes before our wedding, to run off with my best friend. I felt rejection from all sides. Brad came over and put his hand on my shoulder. I turned toward him, and he hugged me to him as I wept. After a couple of minutes, I was cried out. I stepped back and thanked him for consoling me.

“You want to get out of here, maybe go get drunk?” Brad asked.

“No,” I said simply, exhausted from the emotion of the past half-hour. “I need some alone time. I want to get away, I don’t want to have to talk to anyone, I don’t want the looks of pity that people will give me.” I suddenly had an idea. “I think I’m going on the cruise by myself.

“They won’t give you looks of pity,” Brad started before I interrupted him again.

“Dude, the look of pity was all over your face when you walked in here!” I said. “I can’t stand the idea of facing that right now. So, I AM going to go on the cruise that’s already paid for, surrounded by thousands of people I don’t know! I already have the week off work. I’ll deal with all this shit when I get back.”

Suddenly, I felt purposeful, like I had something to do. I grabbed my stuff, and walked out of the room and out of the back of the church. Word must have spread because people were beginning to file out of the church, milling about in the parking lot. I hurried past them all, not making eye contact, not seeing their pity. I reached my car, threw my stuff in the back, cranked it and got out of there as fast as possible!

I drove to my place, dropped off the wedding stuff, changed clothes, and grabbed my bag that I’d already packed for the honeymoon. My flight was not until the next day, but I needed to get out of town. I drove to the airport, finding a cheap hotel room for the night near there. I spent most of the evening drinking the six-pack of beer I bought, alternating between calling Mandy a bitch, and crying my eyes out, while also ignoring all of the phone calls and texts. I awoke the next morning, slightly hungover, but ready to leave this crap behind. I texted my parents, telling them what I was doing, then headed to the airport.

The flight was uneventful, and just after lunchtime we landed in Miami. A shuttle was at the airport, arranged by the cruise line to carry passengers from the airport to the port. After checking in my luggage and then walking through security and checking my ticket, I was walking up the gangway and onto the ship. I found my room quickly and was pleased to see that my luggage was already delivered. I attended the mandatory safety seminar for my section of the ship, and then went off to explore. Within a couple of hours, were were leaving port and headed to the Caribbean.

I had received my dinner reservation time and location, and so at the appointed mealtime, I headed to the dining room. Mandy and I were scheduled to be seated at a table of 8. When I arrived, five of the other six people were already there, and the sixth arrived just after me. There were two couples at our table, plus two single people, a man and woman, and then me and the empty chair beside me. The single man, a tall muscular dude, was seated immediately to my left. He leaned over to me after we sat down. “I’m Brian,” he said, extending his hand to shake mine. “You here solo too?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, sounding sadder than I intended as I shook his hand. “My wife, fiancé, whatever, was supposed to be here,” I said, pointing at the empty chair to my right. “But she cancelled the wedding 10 minutes before it started. This was supposed to be our honeymoon.”

“Damn, dude!” Brian said with an empathetic look. “That sucks!”

As much as I hated the pity, I kind of liked the fact that he was willing to engage in conversation about it, not treating me like someone with a disease once he found out what had happened. And from that point on, we became friends. He engaged me in conversation, got me to laugh a good bit during dinner, and even invited me to go to the bar and get drunk with him that night. We hung out and got really drunk. I have vague memories of laughing a lot, calling Mandy a “bitch” a lot, and of Brian helping me keep from stumbling on my way back to my room. He could definitely hold his liquor better than me, although he had me by a good 50 pounds anyway! I remember thinking, “he’s really strong!” as he helped me keep my balance walking down the hall.

He helped me into my room, and I remember unlocking and opening the door, but that’s the last thing I remember.

I awoke the next morning to a strange sensation. My head hurt, I knew I was hungover, but the strange part was waking up and feeling comforted by a warm body spooned against my back, arms wrapped protectively around me. As I slowly came to, I realized that I was naked, and the person holding me was naked, and quickly realized that it was a man holding me. His arms were big, he was muscular and a good bit bigger than me. Worse, I could feel his morning wood pressing in the crack of my ass. What the fuck was going on? What happened last night?

I moved to get up, needing to piss. As I moved, the man behind me rolled onto his back, still sleeping, and I saw that it was Brian. Had something happened? Did we have sex? I couldn’t remember anything past stumbling into my room the night before. I got up, my head throbbing as I made my way into the small bathroom. I pissed, then turned to walk back into the room, seeing Brian’s eyes open. He was watching me as I walked back in.

“Hey sexy!” he smiled, his deep voice sounding sleepy.

“What the fuck, man?” I asked, a bit more angry sounding than I meant to. “What happened last night?”

Brian busted out laughing, which caught me off guard. “We came back here, and I was helping get you into bed when you just started crying,” Brian said after he laughed. “Nothing happened except that I hugged you to comfort you and you wouldn’t let me go.”

“Nothing happened?” I asked again. “Then how did we get naked?”

“You started stripping when we got back to the room,” he said, still smiling. “You took off everything and then got in bed and started crying. I woke up in the night, sweating, and got up to leave. But you rolled over and said, ‘Don’t go,’ so I stripped down to cool down and I guess we both fell back asleep. I was free-balling, so when I took my pants off, this is what you get.” With that last sentence, he unashamedly gestured to his naked groin and legs, his morning wood still standing proudly up over his trimmed bush.

“Fuck,” I said after he finished. “Sorry I was so freaked out. I guess I was so drunk I don’t remember anything!”

“No worries,” he said, smiling. “But just so you know, there are far worse ways I can think of to wake up than in bed with a hot naked dude!”

I blushed, realizing he just called me hot. Wait, does that mean he’s gay? Brian watched my face as those thoughts swirled in my hungover mind. Then, before I could come up with a response, he took it to another level.

“And whenever you decide you want to experiment with a muscle stud, I’m I’d be honored to be your first. I think you’re fucking sexy, and you can share my bed any day!” Brian’s offer for sex was flattering, but not something I’d ever even considered. I was straight. I didn’t know what to say in response, so I just stared awkwardly at him! I mean, given the events of the past couple of days, I had to admit it felt great to wake up cuddling with someone in my bed. I also had to admit that I was flattered that he wanted me. It felt good to be wanted, especially after the rejection of being left at the altar. But sex with another guy?

Brian got up, grabbing his shorts and shirt and then dressing, getting ready to head to his room. I grabbed my shorts as well and put them on, suddenly realizing that I’d been standing naked in front of a guy who admittedly wanted to have sex with me! After he was dressed, Brian moved toward the door, walking up to me on his way out. Before leaving, he turned toward me and pushed me back against the wall, and his body moved up to press my smaller frame against the wall. He moved his head to my neck, planting a soft kiss on my neck before whispering in my ear, “Just know, once you’ve had me, you’ll forget all about that Mandy bitch!” Then his mouth was on mine, dominating me with a kiss. I felt my lips open and accept his tongue pressing in as he devoured my mouth with his own. Then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back and smiled down at me. With that, he turned and opened the door, walking out, looking back with a wink as he moved off down the hall. The door latched shut, leaving me alone with a surprising hard-on.

After standing at the door in disbelief for a few seconds, I shook it off. I grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol, then lay back down and fell back asleep. I awoke several hours later, feeling a little better and needing to piss once again. Getting up, I showered and got ready, deciding I’d like to explore the ship some today while we were at sea. I dressed in a pair of trunks and a tank top, ready to hit the pool after walking the ship. Now that I was sobering up, I had decided not to think about the horrible turn my life had taken nor the unexpected offer that Brian had made. I just wanted to be numb and disappear into the crowd. I figured a sunny day at sea should do the trick. As I was preparing to leave, I heard a knock on my door. Opening it, I was once again face-to-face with Brian, who must have had a similar idea, because he too was dressed for the pool.

I blushed as the memory of his kiss rushed through my mind’s eye, my cock chubbing up at the sight of him in tight swim shorts and his own tank top. My eyes scanned his muscular body, surprised at how horny the sight of him was making me! As my eyes reached his face, he smiled a knowing grin at me. He could see my interest. Fuck!

“I thought I’d hit the pool today, and wanted to see if you’d like to join,” he said. “I see you had the same idea!”

“Yeah,” I responded. “Sounds good man.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about spending the day with him, since he had kissed me and we had spooned together. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like I was becoming attracted to him. Could he see my attraction to him? Could I ignore him in order to pay attention to any hot girls on the ship? Did I want to hook up with a girl right now after what Mandy had done to me? All of these thoughts went through my mind as I gathered my stuff to follow Brian to the pool, already having committed to hanging out with him. As it stood, we did have a ton of fun laughing and talking yesterday. Maybe it would be more fun like that.

Once we arrived on the pool deck, we found chairs side-by-side and we set up camp. I wanted to work on my tan, and it seemed that Brian had the same plan. We quickly fell into an easy conversation, laughing and talking like last night. Brian was a fun guy to be around, and I found myself enjoying his company. We shared our life histories, funny stories from college, and our dreams for the future. We alternated laying out and swimming in the pool, often playfully splashing each other and just generally being guys. But in the back of my mind was always the offer that he had made. He wanted to have sex with me. Was I curious? Did I want to experiment? The sudden rearranging of my life by that bitch Mandy and my ex best friend provided an opening for me to reinvent myself. Did I want to try things I’d never thought of trying now that I had the opportunity? I didn’t know for sure, but I did know that Brian’s kiss was far more pleasurable than I could have expected. There was a part of me that wanted to know what else we could do. If so, would it be pleasurable too? And frankly, I was horny. Mandy and I last had sex two weeks before the wedding. She said she wanted to wait to make the honeymoon more special. So we waited, and now I was on my honeymoon without a wife. My balls were getting bluer by the minute.

At about 5 in the afternoon, Brian turned to me and said, “Well, I think I’m done with the sun for today! I’m going to go get a shower, and rest a little before dinner.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” I replied, beginning to gather my stuff as well.

He walked with me back to my room, and he paused as I swiped the card to open my door. I turned back to look at him, and I recognized the look on his face. It was the same look I have at the end of a first date when you’re not sure if the girl wants you to kiss her or not. Brian was looking at me like that. I smiled at him and then stepped into the room. I saw him smirk and turn to go as I closed the door.

I got ready for dinner, which was at 7, my mind running over the day spent with Brian and his interest in me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going to happen with him, it would either happen tonight, or not at all. I wondered if he would make a move, or if he would wait for me to ask.

I was about to leave to head to the dining room when a now familiar knock shook my door. Smiling, I opened it to see Brian once again standing there, only this time he was dressed in his dinner suit, and he was holding a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.

“I figured since we were going to the same place, I’d come pick you up,” he said, smiling. “Oh, and I got you these. I thought you could use some cheer in your life, and it would be nice to wake up to see these bright colors.” I smiled, not because of the flowers, but because I could see through his ruse. He could give any explanation that he wanted, but I could tell that he got me flowers because he wanted me to view our dinner tonight as a date. Brian had ulterior motives this evening. I guess he was going to make the first move after all. Brian had decided to seduce me. I found that I was not as turned off by that idea as I would have been even 12 hours earlier!

After setting the flowers in my room, I stepped out into the hall, closing my door. I began to notice even little things, like Brian letting me go first and then his hand touching my lower back softly, just for a moment, guiding me forward down the hall. He opened doors for me. He was treating me like I’d treated every girl I’d ever taken out. It was a surreal feeling to both know what he was doing, and be grateful he was being so kind to me.

Dinner was fun, as our table went around sharing what we’d done on the ship that day. We had a great group of people at the table, and I was glad for that. I think they all began to think that Brian and I were a couple. That meant I didn’t have to talk with them about Mandy leaving me at the altar. I relaxed and genuinely enjoyed myself.

After dessert, Brian turned and asked if I’d like to come back to his room with him. “I’ve got some bourbon that I’d like to open and share,” he said by way of explanation. I nodded, suddenly too nervous to speak. I knew what he wanted, and I was agreeing to go with him. Leaving the table with him probably cemented in everyone’s mind the assumption that we were together. Surprised, I again found that I didn’t care.

Brian’s room was one level above mine. He had sprung for a suite, and it was nice.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, motioning to the couch. He turned to the bar and poured us each a bourbon in a glass. I sat down on the couch, unsure of what to do next, waiting on him to take the lead. Brian walked over to the couch, handed me a glass, then sat down, right beside me.

“Cheers!” he said as he raised his glass. “Here’s to possibilities.” I raised my eyebrows as I raised the glass to my lips. The bourbon was nice, and the warmth of the alcohol settled me down. Brian stretched and put his left arm around me on the couch.

“So,” he began, his deep, masculine voice near my ear as I looked straight ahead, “You’re here with me, alone. Have you thought anymore about my offer?”

“Yes,” I answered softly, nodding.

Brian leaned forward to set his glass down on the table, then took my glass from my hand and set it beside his. His arm remained possessively around my shoulders as he did this. Sitting back up, he took his right hand and grabbed my chin, turning my face toward his. Then his lips were once again on mine, and we were making out.

The next few minutes were a blur. We made out, we got out of our clothes, and then we were naked together, making out on the couch. Brian crawled over on top of me. His body weight felt good, pressing me down as he kissed me.

After we were both naked, our hard cocks pressing against one another as he ground down on me, Brian lifted up from the kiss and asked, “You okay with this?”

Breathless, I whispered out, “Yes!” Brian smiled down at me, then moved his face back to mine and suddenly we were kissing again. We made out some more, then Brian pulled back and sat up.

“Since you’re new to this,” he began as he pulled me up to sit beside him, my heart rate still elevated from our passionate make out session, “I need you to know that I’m a total top.”

“A top?” I asked, feeling like I knew what he was saying, but still new to the world of gay sex lingo.

“Yes, a top,” he repeated. “I fuck guys who are bottoms. In gay sex, tops put their cocks in the bottom’s ass, and that’s how they have sex.” I suddenly realized what he was telling me.

“So you’re saying you want me to be the bottom?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“If we have anal sex, then yes,” he replied. “But there’s lots of stuff that we can do without penetration. I just wanted you to know what role I play before we move forward.”

This was a strange new world for me. Mandy was never comfortable talking about sex, and here Brian and I were, pausing our passion in order to have a candid conversation about expectations.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to get fucked,” I answered truthfully. “But I am having fun so far!” I smiled bashfully, my face turning red at my admission.

Brian grinned back at me. “I’m glad,” he said. “We’ll take it slow, and only do what you feel comfortable with.” Saying that, he stood, grabbed my hand and pulled me up, bringing me with him as he walked to the bed. Then we were together on the bed, rolling around, making out, exploring each other ‘s bodies. I’d never touched another guy this way before. His muscles were hard, and he was much more firm than any woman’s body I’d felt. I found that I liked the difference. Knowing that he was a top added to the intensity for me, as I could see him controlling our union and manipulating my body. At one point, he was on top of me and had separated my legs, so that he was kneeling between them. I felt the pleasure of having my legs spread by a bigger man, and I began to understand what bottoms might get out of the dynamic of submitting to their top. I still wasn’t ready for it, though.

Brian then began kissing down my body, tweaking my nipples with his teeth, smiling as I shuddered at the sensation. When he arrived at my cock, he sucked me into his mouth, and I almost came from the intense pleasure. He was able to deep-throat my 7 inches, and I’d never felt a blow job like that before! I had a buddy one time tell me that guys suck cock better than girls ever could, and if Brian’s ability was any indication, my buddy had been right. It was like he knew exactly what would feel good, and could also tell when I was about to blow. He would back off then, keeping me near the edge but not letting me reach my climax.

Finally, after about 10 minutes, he crawled back up to my face, kissing me again before asking, “How was that?”

“Fantastic!” I gasped. “That is hands down the best head I’ve ever received!”

“Thanks,” he said smiling down at me. “Ready to try your first cock?”

I wasn’t sure if I was, but I felt like I couldn’t say no after how great he’d made me feel. I nodded. Brian rolled over onto his back, bringing me with him.

“Just repeat what I did for you,” he said, ever the patient teacher, with me as his naked student. I too kissed down his torso, his muscular hairy chest feeling strange under my lips. I tweaked his nipples beneath his meaty pecs, feeling him suck in his breath and puff out his chest from the pleasurable stimulation. Then I was at his cock. I looked up into his eyes as he stared down his chest at me.

“Just lick the head,” he said. “Get your first taste.” I did, my tongue touching his cock head. I could taste his sweet pre-cum as a dollop of it oozed from his slit onto my tongue. “You’ll always remember this, the first time a man’s cock touched your lips,” he said, watching me.

“Now put your lips over the head and start sucking,” he continued with his instructions. I followed his advice, pulling about half of his 8 inches in my mouth before he hit the back of my throat. I gagged hard.

“Whoa!” he said as his hands moved my head back. “We’ll get to deep-throating later! For now, just get used to it being in your mouth, and enjoy that!” I followed his advice, sucking on the first few inches. His moans told me that even though I wasn’t experienced, I was making him feel good. He let me suck for a couple of minutes before placed both hands on either side of my head and pulled me off his cock, then moved my lips to his balls.

‘Yeah, lick those balls,” he commanded as he ground my face against his sack. The smell was slightly sweaty and slightly soapy, and all Brian. I found that I liked it very much, and began licking and kissing his scrotum in earnest. Brian threw his had back and groaned, the pleasure evident in the sounds he was making. He let me slobber over his cock and balls for a couple more minutes, and then he moved to sit up. He pulled me up by lifting me under my arms until we were face to face and I was kneeling before him. He then pulled me into another passionate kiss, no doubt tasting his balls on my mouth. Then he manhandled me down onto the bed on my back, climbing over me so that my cock was again in his mouth as his cock settled above my mouth in a 69. I opened and took him in, and he pressed his cock in, then pulled back up, fucking my mouth like a pussy. It was clear he was showing me his nature as a top, taking my mouth for his pleasure.

The pleasure he was giving me by sucking my own cock distracted me from the blowjob I was giving him, and he pressed down further and I felt his cock slip into my throat! I was able to stop myself from choking, and he pulled back up quickly. Then he pressed back down and into my throat again, going a little deeper before immediately pulling back up. He kept up that motion until his balls rested on my nose. He had his entire cock in my mouth! I found I could breathe through my nose as I sucked on the base of his cock, my throat contracting around his shaft. He held it there as he sucked my cock while simultaneously pulling my legs up in the air. I felt his finger running over my hole as his hips lifted and he began thrusting into and out of my throat in a slow fucking motion. He was controlling the speed of the head I was giving him, while introducing me to the pleasure around my asshole as he played with it while sucking me.

Brian’s thrusts into my throat intensified as he paused sucking me, until with a groan he thrust all the way in and held himself in me. I could feel his cock pulsing on my tongue as he shot his load straight down my throat and into my stomach. Once he finished shooting, he pulled back, a last string of his cum dripped on my tongue as he dragged his cock head across my lips, allowing me to taste him. Then he dropped his mouth back onto my cock, sucking in earnest as his wet finger found and once again rubbed my hole. I was hurtling toward my own orgasm when his finger pressed into my ass, and I came, shooting my 2 week load in his mouth! He swallowed me down, taking my cock balls deep as he drained me.

When I finished cumming, he pulled back and rolled over on his back to lay beside me.

“Fuck, you taste good!” he said as we both enjoyed the post-coital bliss. I just moaned, too drained to speak or move.

But then I was the first to move. As the endorphins began to wane, I began to freak out! I rolled over to the side to get up, suddenly wanting to get out of his room. Brian, anticipating my straight-boy regret, jumped up as well, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me into a tight hug. I started crying, the gravity of what we’d just done and the emotions of the past week overwhelming me. I pressed my fists against his chest, trying to push him away. He just held me tighter.

“Shhhh,” he said soothingly. He pulled me back to the bed, and he laid down, pulling me to cuddle on his chest. As much as I was freaking out, it also felt so nice for him to provide care and comfort to me. I hugged him back, drifting off to sleep as my tears dropped onto his muscular chest.

---

Read all of my stories at www.closetcase.net

The Professor

My life was going pretty well, I have to say. I was recognized for my academic insight in the area of physics, and at 42, I was already a tenored professor at Nebraska. My wife and I met while I was in grad school, and we’ve been married for 15 years. She is also a professor here, and we have two children. Our son is 10, and our daughter is 7. We are both satisfied in our careers, love each other and our children very much, and have pretty much the perfect life.

The only wrinkle in our perfect life is my hidden secret: I’m attracted to guys. Well, that’s not 100% true. I’m attracted to big, muscular guys. My freshman year in college, my roommate was a big defensive back for our football team, and he seduced me and fucked me regularly. I don’t really care about smaller guys, but big, masculine, built guys make me weak. After college, I decided I didn’t want to live that life, and so I met and married my wife, and we built our family.

My primary role at the University is to oversee and mentor grad students as they are working on thesis projects. I also teach two classes of upper level physics that is a required course for some of the science and engineering degrees. Most of the students in those classes are smart, studious, and nerdy. I’ve had a few of the girls in those classes try to flirt with me to get better grades, but all in all, not a lot of temptation there. Unfortunately, I also am contracted to teach one intro physics class that is a core science requirement for most students. The only benefit that I get to that class is that I often get to teach football players and other studs on campus, so there is plenty of eye candy that come through my classroom doors.

Each semester of my intro class, I find myself picking out the hottest guy in the class, and finding out who he is. His image is often the fodder for getting aroused when my wife and I have sex. This semester, I have a stud in my class named Justin. I noticed him the first day. I couldn’t help but notice him. He was on the football team, and walked with a confident swagger that just made him look even sexier. He reminded me very much of my roommate in college, and I could feel myself yearning to get fucked again the way he used to fuck me. God forbid he ever flirts with me to get a better grade. I don’t think I could say no!

As the semester wore on, I kept an eye on Justin, both in class and in the gradebook. He wasn’t stupid, but I could tell that he wasn’t getting some of the concepts. Most of the football players that take my class just coast through, happy to pass with a D, and I expected the same of Justin. So I was surprised when he showed up one Thursday during my posted office hours, asking me to help him better understand thermodynamics! He stepped in the door of my office, and I couldn’t help but stare for a second, my eyes taking in his muscled form. He was wearing a tank top and some gym shorts. His massive arms were bare, revealing the strength in his biceps, and his massive pecs pushed the shirt out. He was a perfect picture of masculine musculature in the prime of his life, and I stared!

After a couple of awkward seconds of me just admiring his young manly body, I realized I was staring and silent. I collected myself, and welcomed him in, still surprised that he would come by my office at all! “What can I do for you, Justin?” I asked, regaining my composure.

Justin smirked quickly, cocking his head to the side, before he answered my question. I realized that I had just admitted that I already knew his name, although that wasn’t that unusual. Professors often try to know their students by name, and Justin was well known around campus because of his place on the football team. I decided then, though, that I needed to be more guarded with him. I could get fired messing around with a student, and I didn’t want that or to make him feel uncomfortable in my office.

“I’m struggling with thermodynamics,” he finally said, stepping into the office and sitting down in one of the two chairs across from my desk.

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” I answered him, standing and walking around the desk to sit in the other chair next to him. I grabbed my iPad and pulled up the class notes where we had covered the concepts of thermodynamics. I was surprised that he was actually paying attention as I tutored him. I would stop to ask questions to see if he was understanding, and he was able to answer them intelligently. Maybe he wasn’t just a dumb jock after all. Maybe he did care about his grades and doing well in my class. The further we went, the more I liked Justin. Finishing up our journey through the concepts, he told me that this helped and he felt he could finish the homework problems I had assigned.

I smiled, glad to feel like I had helped a student, and without thinking I reached over and patted his shoulder to congratulate him as I said, “Thanks for coming by for help, Justin! I appreciate students who take their work seriously.” But even as I was saying it, my hand that touched his shoulder felt the solid muscle underneath it, and before I could stop myself, I gripped it and massaged it, entranced with his body. It was as if I couldn’t will my hand to stop touching him, to move away. My eyes couldn’t stop wandering all over his body. I could smell his masculine scent, a mix of cologne and pheromones that was already causing my own cock to stir. We sat there, the only movement my hand on his shoulder, for what felt like an eternity, the silence deafening as he watched me take in his body. Justin was the first to speak.

“Thanks for your time, professor,” he said, breaking the silence. “But you know, on thinking about it, there may be one more thing you can help me with.” Saying that he stood up and reached behind me to shut my office door. I was alone, with this stud, in a closed office. I looked up at his face, searching for his intentions, but my eyes were drawn back down as he stood, seeing the growing tent of his cock under his gym shorts. After he shut the door, Justin just stood there, letting me look for a moment. I couldn’t take my eyes off that meat that was growing before my eyes, the cloth of his shorts the only thing between us.

Finally, Justin took my chin in his hand, and broke the silence saying, “You know, professor, my eyes are up here.”

Oh my God, what am I doing? I quickly sought the best way to diffuse the situation. “Justin, I don’t know what you think is going on…” I began, but already he was moving, grabbing my hand and placing it on his bulge. I trailed off as my hand came in contact with the warm and hardening mound in his shorts. I couldn’t stop myself from kneading his cock, moving my hand down its length as it stretched down his leg.

“What’s going on, professor,” Justin said, his deep voice sounding soft and sultry, “is that deep down you think I’m hot. You like my muscles, you like my alpha personality, you even like that I’m taking control of this situation. You may be a married dad out there, but in here you want me. So I’m giving you what you secretly want.” He was saying the things I couldn’t admit out loud. He was taking control, just like my old roommate had done, and I wanted nothing more than to give in. Justin paused, watching my face take in his words, before he continued, “And what you want is to be my bitch.”

“Justin, I don’t think we should…” I tried again. I wanted to resist, to be faithful to my wife, to not jeopardize my job. I couldn’t be seduced by a student. I couldn’t give in to the urges I felt when around these alpha studs. I want to do the right thing. But even as the war of right and wrong is waging in my mind, Justin pulled the waistband of his shorts down, hooking it under his balls. Suddenly, I was faced with his impressive 8 inch cock, inches from my mouth. My words failed me, my mind couldn’t remember why I shouldn’t do this as he grabbed my head with his hands and guided my mouth onto his cock. I opened my mouth automatically, taking him into me and began sucking the cock of one of the sexiest students to ever enter my classroom.

“You don’t think we should what, professor?” Justin asked as his cock moved further in my mouth. I looked up into his eyes, watching him smirk as the reality of what I was doing came crashing down on me. I tried to pull back, to make this stop, but he held me firm on his cock. I couldn’t get away. I probably didn’t really try that hard, to be honest.“I’m just kidding, professor,” he said more softly, then continued: “We both want this, so let’s just enjoy our time, shall we? I’m a man with needs, and you’re the bitch who can take care of my needs.”

My eyes dropped back down, taking in his impressive chest as I once again began sucking on his impressive cock. He may only be a sophomore, but his body and dick were all man. I began bobbing back and forth, taking more and more in, loving the taste and the firmness of his cock in my mouth. I missed this intimacy with an alpha man, this knowing my place as his personal cocksucker. Remembering all the times that I had sucked on my roommate’s cock, I oddly wondered where he was now, and If I should try to find him and rekindle what we had in college? My mind quickly returned to the matter at hand as I sucked him in, taking him into my throat. My roommate taught me how to control my gag reflex, and it came back as easy as riding a bike. I was good at throating cock, and Justin quickly realized he was with an expert.

I felt his hands on the sides of my head as he began to face fuck me, thrusting his cock all the way in and down into my throat, the pulling out only to return balls deeps, over and over again. I timed my breathing with his fuck rhythm. The only sound in the office was the slurp of his cock moving in and out of my mouth and throat. I was so into the moment that I temporarily forgot where we were!

A knock on my office door brought me back to reality, and I panicked! “Professor?” a female voice asked through the closed door. Justin held me on his cock, not allowing me to pull back. My head was impaled and I couldn’t answer her if I wanted to.

Justin answered for me: “Office hours are over today. Come back tomorrow.” I heard her footsteps walking away, while I remained still, on my knees, the cock of this stud buried in my throat.

“That was close!” Justin said, smirking as I looked up in his eyes. “Maybe I should lock the door too!” he said, reaching over and turning the lock, promising more privacy for the remainder of our session. He proceeded then to return to fucking my face, the sounds of my submission to him echoing through the room. He began to speed up, until finally he held himself still all the way in and I felt his cock spasming on my tongue as he blasted a couple of shots of cum straight down my throat. After the first three shots, he pulled up, and I got to taste the remainder of his load as he deposited it on my tongue. It was delicious! I don’t know what this stud eats, but his cum was sweet and salty at the same time. I remember thinking I wish I could make a dipping sauce that tasted like his cum! I was so proud that I was able to get him off, and grateful to be able to suck the cock of an alpha football stud once again.

Once he finished shooting his load, Justin pulled me up by grabbing under my arms and lifting me as if I weighed nothing. I stood there, looking at him, my own cock hard as a rock under my khaki pants. I didn’t know what he wanted next, but it was clear he was in charge. He looked me over, running his hands over my clothed body, taking me in. After looking me over, Justin stepped forward and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. Then, in the sexiest moment of my life up to that point, he took me in a passionate kiss. I had no choice but to go with him, to kiss him back. He was a great kisser! My knees went weak and my arms grabbed onto his body, my own body submitting and melting into him. I wanted to become one with this stud. I wanted to touch and be touched by as much of him as possible. I couldn’t get enough of his incredible body! I don’t know how long we made out, but I could have stayed there forever. Finally, though, he stepped back and let me go.

“We are definitely going to have to do that again,” Justin said, smiling at me. He then grabbed me and turned me around, bending me over my own desk as he added, “In fact, next time we’re going to have to see what this ass can do!” I groaned as I felt him smack my ass. I was carried away by the memory of my roommate treating me the same way. I couldn’t wait to feel Justin take my ass! I was panting as I lay bent over the desk, waiting on Justin to let me up.

“What do you have planned tonight?” he asked as he pressed his crotch against my upturned ass.

“I usually go for a run around the campus at about 8, so probably that…” I trailed off as I looked back in lust at the stud that was holding me down.

“Why don’t you run by my place, then,” he asked, “so we can pick up where we left off.”

Justin gave me his dorm and room number, then grabbed my phone and unlocked it by holding it in front of my face for the face ID. He added himself as a contact in my phone, then sent himself a text from my phone so had my number. I couldn’t believe his boldness, his confidence. I just lay prone there on my desk as he began to take over my life.

“Text me when you’re on your way,” he said when finished as he ground against my ass.”That way I can get my roommate out of the apartment before you come over.” I could only nod my agreement. Finally, he let me stand up, then he grabbed me and turned me around, pulling me once more into a passionate kiss. Letting me go, he stepped to the door, unlocked it and opened it to step out in the hall.

“Thank you,” I said, blushing as he stepped out. Justin smiled as he walked out of the door.

Would I follow through? I had an out. I could say that my family needed me. I could say that I wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t run tonight. I could think of a million ways to get out of my run and subsequent fuck at Justin. But deep down, the pull of taking his cock was too great. We ate dinner as a family, let my food settle and helped the kids with homework, and then changed into my running clothes at about 10 minutes to 8. Kissing my wife goodbye, I stepped out of the door and into the evening air. I grabbed my phone and shot Justin a text: “Leaving home now. be there in 10.”

Exactly 10 minutes later, I was standing in the hall of his dorm, just outside his door. Knocking on it meant that I would get fucked. Before I could wimp out, before my brain could tell me the thousand reasons why a professor should not be visiting a student to get fucked, I reached my hand up and knocked. Justin opened it, and I knew I made the right decision! He was standing in just his gym shorts, no shirt to cover his incredible chest. He didn’t look like he was wearing any underwear either, as his cock was bulging out of the front of his cotton shorts obscenely. He was hot, and he knew it. He smirked at me as he stood back, welcoming me into his room. As I walked in, he grabbed my arm, shutting the door and pushing me back against it, covering me with his massive body as he dominated me in another of his passionate kisses. I relaxed into his embrace as his hands were all over me, ultimately grabbing my ass and kneading the globes as he covered my mouth with his own. For my part, I was running my hands all over his muscles, feeling his strength, his power, knowing I wanted him to control my body and give me the pleasure I’ve been missing for so long!

Finally, pulling back, he asked, “When does the wife expect you back?”

“I’m usually gone for about an hour, so we’ve got about 40 minutes before I need to start heading back,” I answered breathlessly.

He grabbed my hand then, leading me into his bedroom, smiling at me as he said, “Well, then let’s get you fucked.”

Once we were in Justin’s room, he didn’t waste any time. He moved me in front of him, my back against his chest, then pressed me down onto his bed, my ass presented to him as he knelt behind me. I felt him grab my shorts and pull them down, revealing my jockstrap covered ass. I smiled as I imagined his reaction to my round ass, framed by the straps, the ultimate admission that I wanted to be fucked by this stud! I heard him growl as he dove his face between my cheeks, rimming my hole with his powerful tongue. I could feel my ass getting wet from his spit as he shoved more and more of it up my hole. Just like everything else sexual, he was a master at rimming. I could have stayed right there all night, letting him eat me out! He was much better than my roommate had ever been! I couldn’t stop moaning and cursing, verbally letting him know how good he was making me feel!

Sooner than I would have liked, I felt him pull back and stand. I heard the top of the lube bottle pop open and felt the cool sensation as he dribbled some on my ass. Looking back over my shoulder, I watched him slick up his 8 in cock and then press it against my asshole. Pushing out and back, suddenly half his cock slid into my hole! I gasped, tensing up. I knew it would hurt because it had been awhile, but I could also already begin to feel the pleasure building. I relaxed my ass as he held still. Feeling me relax, he pressed forward, uttering calming statements like, “Relax, professor. Let me in. Just breathe and relax.” With one final thrust, he pressed all the way in, impaling my ass fully on his incredible cock. I gasped again as my hole clamped down on his cock, surrendered to the alpha stud that was taking me.

Soon, Justin began a gentle thrusting that very quickly accelerated to full in and out pounding of my married ass. I could not stop moaning, and groaning, becoming more and more verbal the more he pounded me. “Yes!” I hissed. “More, more, harder, yes!” I was already growing to love the cock that had invaded my ass. Then, Justin did something that made this entire experience the most erotic and incredible sex of my life. In my mind, there was always the knowledge that he was my student. That was taboo enough, I thought. But Justin took that to the next level when he suddenly asked, “So professor, what grade would you give my understanding of the thermodynamics of your ass?” He punctuated each syllable of “thermodynamics” with a jab of his cock in my hole, my prostate buzzing with over stimulation.

“Fuck…” I yelled out. “A+, buddy!” I loved the tying of our sex with the dynamic of student teacher, and the introduction of grade talk just made it hotter. The sex was heightened for both of us by the fact that he was the student, fucking the teacher without remorse. The combination of his masterful pounding of my hole and his fuck talk sent me over the edge, and I came all over his sheets as he relentlessly pounded my ass.

He rode my ass hard for another five minutes or so, until I felt him speed up and then thrust hard up into me. I could feel his cock spasm in my ass, and a wet warmth filled me as he bred my ass with his load. “Yeah, bitch! Take my load!” he growled out he came up my ass. I just groaned as he bred me. After holding still for a moment, Justin then pulled back and out and stood up.

I moved to gingerly stand as well. As I did, I felt Justin step up behind me, wrapping his arms around my chest and pulling me back against his bigger chest. I turned my head to look back at him, and he met me in a sloppy kiss.

After he broke the kiss, Justin must have seen the puddle of my cum on his bed. He turned his head to say in my ear, “Looks like the professor had a good time getting taken by the football player!” I trembled as his deep voice reverberated next to my ear, his breath on my neck. I was putty in this boy’s arms.

I left his dorm a truly satisfied bottom bitch, my ass full of a fresh load of cum from an alpha football stud. Moreover, this stud was a student in my class! I thanked him for the fuck, and then proceeded to run back home. I arrived home sweaty, but not from my normal run! I headed straight for the shower when I got home, washing the smell of sex, and the smell of Justin, off of my body. My wife was none the wiser. We tucked our kids in, watched some TV, and I slept soundly that night, the way a man can sleep only after he’s been truly and royally fucked.

After that semester, Justin and I continued to hook up. He fucked me all over that campus, most times in my office. My favorite position was on my back, watching his incredible body work as he thrust into me, watching his face as I submitted to his need.

Once, when my wife and kids were visiting her parents, we spent the weekend together, him fucking me in the bed where we had made our children! If I could get pregnant, I’d be carrying Justin’s babies. I was his bitch while he was a student, and he’s even come back and fucked me while visiting as an alumni at games, too!

Better yet, his reawakening of my desire to submit to a masculine man inspired me to reach out and reconnect with my college roommate. He’s visiting town tonight, staying in a hotel. We agreed to meet for dinner, and I told my wife not to wait up because we have some catching up to do!

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This story is the bottom’s version of On the Prowl (2).

Read all of my stories at www.closetcase.net

Just Desserts

Herk sat back in his office on Cinnebar and weighed his options.  Thanks to his troll metabolism, he’d healed quickly after the beating he’d suffered in the ring from Tess and Ava.

Although his body was recovered, his finances were another matter.  When the dust had finally settled, paying off all the assorted fines and taxes to the Vectran government had taken a major hit on his and Cinnebar’s pockets.

The only good thing was that Herk had come across his vast fortune almost overnight, instead of spending a lifetime earning it.  While he was quite angry to have to give up so much money, it didn’t mean as much to him as it would have to someone else.  After thinking long and hard, Herk finally came up with a plan that would get him a small measure of revenge.  Bit by bit, he was becoming more clever as he ran Cinnebar, and learning how to create alliances and formulate plans.  He wasn’t the same dense troll that Rhiannon, Vantha and Sonja had met long, long ago.

He made some long-distance calls and e-mails to the Vectran home world, finding out how long the Delphi 4 would be there, once they returned to base.

After that he enlisted the help of some other unsavory types, to produce a concoction that would have the desired effect on the Vectran women.  Some online research and calls told him what were the most popular types of donuts, cakes and pastries among the Vectrans.

It took even more bribes and promises of ‘free services’ on Cinnebar for him to find a bakery that was willing to create what he wanted, and make sure that the food was all heavily laced with the ‘special ingredients’ he asked them to use.  A minor spell from a happy customer on Cinnebar who happened to be a mystic, and no one could tell the cakes and donuts were anything else than what they seemed to be.

A few more discrete payments, and the contents were packaged in a special container with a unique seal: it could only be opened by Rhiannon’s vocal pattern and DNA scan.  There were more than enough samples of both on Cinnebar, after all of her visits and these were transmitted to the bakery on the Vectran home world.  The last thing Herk wanted was for some-one else to ‘confiscate’ the package, and for it to not make it to Rhiannon and her close circle of friends on the Delphi 4.

When everything was completed, he sat back and read the e-mail notification that the package had been successfully delivered to the starship.

“I wish I could be there ta see everything hit the fan on that fancy starship of theirs,” he thought with a smirk.

After all of the recent success with the earlier military offensive against the terrorists and then the spectacular results that generated so much income for the Vectran government when they inspected Cinnebar, Rhiannon wasn’t completely surprised to see the package waiting for her in one of the conference rooms on the Delphi 4.  She knew that the top brass couldn’t go out of their way to show overabundant favoritism to any one soldier or their respective unit.  But in her mind, a little tribute like this was a nice way of the big shots saying ‘thank you’ to her and her crew.

Rhiannon was slightly concerned when a label on the container had her speak to the package, and then hold her thumb over a sensor for a DNA scan, to be able to open it.  But then, knowing how many steps and places it had to go through to reach her, she silently agreed with whoever had taken the extra measures.

“Without these, anyone from those fat security guards at the gates to a dozen other bozos could’ve intercepted these and made off with ’em.”

The special container had kept the cakes and cookies soft and warm like they’d just come out of the oven.  Rhiannon had called Barocca, Vantha, Rayleena, Calista, Dejah, Kristal and others to enjoy the special treats.  After months of almost nothing but the synthesized food the Delphi 4 produced, her friends couldn’t wait to get their hands on the new goodies. 

The various women entered the room, and Calista had brought Floofy along on a leash.

“I thought I told you to find a new home for your pet, Calista,” said Rhiannon.

“I was on my way to see my family when I got the call to come here, sir.”  After waiting her turn, she plucked a donut out of the container.  “You won’t see Floofy around any more.”  Calista broke off a piece and waved it under her pet’s nose.  To her surprise, Floofy sniffed it briefly and turned his nose up at it.  “Oh well, more for me I guess.”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen that mutt turn down food…are you sure he’s all right, Calista?”

“I guess he’s just not hungry, sir.”

 As the remaining items were passed out, Vantha noticed what looked like an envelope at the bottom.  “Aren’t you gonna read it, chief?” asked Vantha.  “Somebody in Fleet Command must really like you.”

“I’ll read it later and send ’em a ‘thank you’ note then.  After months of food pellets and the liquid mush this ship produces, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into some real food again.”

Later that afternoon, anyone who had sampled the ‘special treats’ was constantly using the lavatory to either upchuck, or making multiple trips there to combat the violent diarrhea they were experiencing.

Rhiannon and Vantha staggered to the conference room; after another visit to the lava-tory; the captain had lost track of how many times she’d had to do this, and now decided to examine the container more closely, to try and determine just who had given her this.  As she sat down, Rhiannon let out a long fart, hoping her system would eventually clean itself out.

“Nice one, chief,” Vantha remarked sourly.  “I think you tore your shorts on that one.”

“Oh, shut the hell up.  It’s not like you haven’t added a few of those yourself.”

As if on cue, Vantha emitted a similar discharge, causing her nose to wrinkle.  She held her nose with one hand and pressed a button on the wall, causing the small robot, Hugo to emerge from a wall panel and begin spraying the room with air fresheners.

“You’d better use everything you’ve got, Hugo,” she instructed, pinching her nose.

By now, Rhiannon realized something just wasn’t right with this package and reached for the communicator.  “Have one of the psychic girls come over here and check this damned container out.”

A few minutes later, the door opened and Lilith entered.  She immediately stopped and gasped as she smelled the foul odor in the room and then could sense the mystic aura coming from the container.  To the average person, it looked normal; to a psychic like herself, it was like a glowing neon sign.

“You and the others already consumed whatever was in here?”  Vantha and Rhiannon nodded grimly.

“Is there anything you and your girls can do to help us out?”

“Without something to probe or analyze, we could wind up making things worse.”

“I should’ve known something was wrong when that garbage-gut mutt of Calista’s wouldn’t touch this stuff,” moaned Rhiannon.  “That’s just fucking great.  All right, thanks for stopping by, Lilith.”

“You probably don’t want to stick around here, unless you’ve got a gas mask,” said Vantha.  Lilith nodded nervously and left the room.

“Let’s see what the hell is in this envelope,” Rhiannon mumbled.  To her surprise, it wasn’t a greeting card, but a miniature tablet with a label next to a button: Play Me.  The Vectran commander pressed it.  Herk’s gravelly voice could be heard coming from it.

“Hi Rhiannon, it’s yer ‘old pal’ Herk.  I know it’s you cuz only yer DNA would activate the player.  I’ll bet you and yer friends were really happy after everything that happened ta me back on Cinnebar, girl.  So I decided ta send ya something that tells ya just how I feel about you and yer girls.  It’s an old family recipe that I call ‘Troll House Cookies’!”  Herk could be heard laugh-ing loudly in the background.  “If ya ever get back ta Cinnebar, I’ve got more of the same waitin’ for ya!”

Rhiannon’s face grew angry and she reached out and slammed her fist on the device, shattering it into dozens of pieces.

Vantha threw her hands up just in time to avoid being hit by some of the shards.  “I never would’ve thought that big lug Herk was smart enough to come up with something like this.”

Rhiannon drank some water and swallowed hard, hoping it would settle her stomach.

“Okay, I’ll give the big son of a bitch credit for going to night school, or whatever he’s done to get smarter.”  She shifted uneasily in her chair as she felt her bowels prepare to un-leash another load.  “After everything that happened to him, I’d be surprised if Herk didn’t hold a grudge against us.”  A beeping was heard as Hugo nudged her foot to vacuum up all of the loose pieces of the mini-tablet.  “But as soon as we get our next furlough or any kind of leave, we’ll be sure to pay another visit to Herk and Cinnebar.  By then I’ll come up with something to really give him just what he deserves.”

Vantha rolled her eyes, as she knew there was no stopping Rhiannon, once she set her mind to something like this.  “Poor Herk doesn’t now what he’s gotten himself into…”

“You can say that again, Vantha.  Herk may have won the first battle with this little sur-prise package he sent us.  But the ‘war’ with that smart-ass troll has only just begun.”

The communicator beeped and Vantha answered it.  It was Rayleena from the bridge.

“Tell the commander she’s got another message from Fleet Command.  It must be some-thing important…it’s coded Alpha Red Tango.”  That meant only Rhiannon’s voice password could open it.  The message was relayed to the conference room and Rhiannon tried several times to open the message without success.

“Try speaking your password without burping in the middle of it, chief,” Vantha teased.  She gave Rhiannon a slap on the back.  After an extra loud outburst, her stomach was now finally beginning to show signs of getting back to normal.  She glared at Vantha, spoke her password and this time the message opened properly.  She and Vantha read the notice in astonishment.

“I can’t believe this,” she exclaimed.  “Someone else is screwing around with our Vectran software on Earth again.”

“Well, they can’t blame us.  We cleaned everything up the last time we were there.”

“And we can account for our whereabouts ever since that trip to Cinnebar.”  She queried the computer to do a search for the current positions of Vectran starships and cruisers.  “Ah, here’s the problem…guess who just made a trip to Earth while she was on leave?”

“Let me guess…it’s Bootika, right?”

“Right the first time, Vantha.  That gal always did think with her dick instead of her head.  I would’ve thought that anyone working in ‘Special Ops’ like she did would know enough not to use our software on a planet that wasn’t part of the Federation.”

Bootika was unaware that the Vectran software gave off a special signal when it was used.  It was tracked and reported to the home world.

“Since we’ve been there before, we’re elected to make a trip there and clean up whatever mess Bootika’s gotten herself into.”

“We had a nice furlough while it lasted,” said Vantha.

“Yeah, that’s part of the price of being in the service.  We can be assigned anywhere to anything at any time.  We’ll check in on the Island first once we’re there…I can’t imagine anyone else getting a hold of our software, but we’ll sort that out once we’re there.”  She stood up and stretched as she finally began to feel better after consuming the ‘gifts’ from Herk.

“Besides that, the brass didn’t us give a specific time that we had to be back.  So once we put Bootika in her place, I’m sure we’ll have a little time to get reacquainted with the girls on the Island again.”

Gary sent me a bunch of website pages from Halloween costume ads. They were weird and crazy ideas. Gary has always been a bit off, I thought, but he is a great roommate, keeping things tidy and neat. 

The costumes he liked were of girls in nurse outfits and that sort of thing. But we had dressed like a 2 female maids last year. Gary told everyone we were sisters and we were going to be having incest sex later in the night. I got pretty drunk, too. I dreamed some guy was kissing me all night. A pretty crazy dream. 

He also liked a bunch of costumes where a guy is in chains like a in a gothic Zombie movie, or the Texas Chainsaw guy in a leather mask. The costumes included handcuffs, chains, collars and all the rest. A guy was being led to his doom, shacked and gagged by a blood thirsty Zombie. Gary said if I didn’t like dressing like a girl this time, he would like to try something like that this year.

I shrugged it all off and forgot about Halloween. Nothing really interested me, and it’s for kids, anyway.

The costumes arrived to my surprise. 3 boxes. Just a week before Halloween. Gary id a big guy, 6 foot 3, and heavy. I’m not so much. Oddly, the leather discipline harness, like a rock climbing harness,  fit around my body just right. It was just my size. I guess if we were going to go as a couple, so to speak, I was going to be the captured slave in peril. There were leather straps with buckles and chains all around my chest, waist, tummy and shoulders. I tried on the wrist and arm restraints too. Just for size. There were Rings with paddle locks attached to them waiting to secure the wrist and arm straps to the sides and back of the harness. Anyone in this thing would be helpless, and at the mercy of his captor, I thought to myself. I was trying to get into the moment, as Gary is always so excited to dress up for Halloween. But this stuff? Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. 

I’d only seen the first package of the costume. Under the harness was even more. A large dog collar, with the word “Slave” on it. Several mouth gags that looked very nasty. Most were ball types with leather straps to hold them in tight. And a face mask, like Hannibal Lecter wore in the “Silence of the lambs” movie. A leather mast with a mouth hole with grates to keep him from biting anyone. Very nasty indeed!

Why did I feel like Gary expected me to be the slave?

In another box was a larger size leather body harness, some clothes made to look old and torn, and another mask. This one was very scary. It was a full, over the head Zombie mask. One eye was bulging and the mouth was red and drooling blood. 

In the last box was a surprising assortment of sex toys. 3 different butt plugs, a big black and purple veined dildo and another gag. Except this gag filled the mouth with a big fat rubber cock that strapped into the mouth. The photo on the package was kind of unnerving. A model was gagged with it, trying to scream while choking on the fat rubber cock, as a guy was ass fucking her. I guess that’s what can happen if you let someone cuff and gag you, I thought.

My cock is hard.

What the fuck?

Brock’s hand became a fist. His fingers dug into my scalp, twisting my hair into a tight knot that pulled at the roots. A guttural sound ripped from his throat, a noise of pure, animal pleasure.

He yanked his cock out of my mouth. I had a split second to gasp, to suck in a desperate lungful of damp alley air, before he slammed it back in.

There was no warning.

No gentle push.

My head snapped back against the unyielding pressure of his hand, my throat breached.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His voice was a ragged growl. “Take that fucking cock.”

I gagged, a deep, retching heave that accomplished nothing. He was buried too deep. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, hot and shameful, blurring the hard lines of his face into a monstrous mask of pure lust. My jaw screamed in protest. My throat burned as if scraped raw with steel wool.

But beneath the pain, something else ignited.

A traitorous fire licked through my veins.

My body arched into him.

It didn’t want escape.

It wanted more.

A desperate, consuming need for this degradation, for the excruciating reality of being filled, used, and bent by him. My humiliation was a drug, and I was already an addict.

His hips gave a short, hard buck that sent a shock wave straight down my spine. The thick ridge of his cockhead scraped against something deep inside me. A low moan rattled in my chest, trapped behind the flesh filling my throat.

“Yeah,” he moaned.

Another punishing thrust.

“Making you work today, faggot.”

The word hit me like a slap. It was what he always called me, spat with contempt across a high school hallway.

Now it was different.

Possessive.

An owner staking his claim.

His thumb brushed my cheekbone, a shockingly gentle gesture.

“So pretty, sucking that fat cock”

My eyes fluttered.

A jolt of pure, white-hot lust shot straight to my own dick, crushed and forgotten inside my shorts, pulsing with an agonizing throb. It was a desperate, unbearable yearning.

I needed release.

I needed friction.

I needed him.

My hips betrayed me.

They gave a small, involuntary twitch forward.

Then another.

I rocked into the rhythm he set, my body a slave to the brutal cadence of his thrusts.

I was no longer just a victim of his assault.

I was a participant.

An eager one.

His knuckles ground against my skull. He held me fast, setting a brutal, relentless rhythm.

“That’s it,” Brock taunted.

He drove forward again. My throat stretched, burning, broken. He was a force of nature, and I was just the thing he was breaking against.

He pulled back just enough for me to register the slick, hot texture of his shaft against my tongue before he plunged again, deeper this time. A strangled noise tore from me, a whimper swallowed by the sheer mass of him.

“I think you always wanted this, didn’t you, faggot?” He asked.

The question was a blade, twisting in a wound I never knew I had. My mind screamed no. A litany of denials. But my body… my body was a fucking traitor.

“Always wanted my dick down your fucking throat.” He rammed in again, forcing a choked gag, his hips bucking with a raw, possessive power. “Nothing but a hungry little cum-dump.”

I whined around his cock.

It wasn’t a word.

It wasn’t even human.

It was the sound of my pride shattering, of my will dissolving into pure, desperate need.

A rough, pleased groan answered me from above.

He liked that sound.

He liked what he was doing to me.

“You’re so much better than my girlfriend,” he grunted, his voice tight with strain. His hips slammed against my face. The brutal, punishing cadence turned into a frenzied jack-hammering.

He was losing control.

“God,” he gasped. “You’re making me cum already.”

His whole body tensed.

“Oh, fuck.” His voice was a ragged whisper. “I’m gonna nut.”

Panic sliced through the haze of my arousal.

I couldn’t.

Not here.

Not like this.

A sudden urge to escape surged through me. My hands shot up, pushing uselessly against his thighs. I tried to pull my head back, to wrench myself free from the impending release.

He laughed.

It was a harsh, triumphant sound that echoed off the damp brick. His hand clamped down harder, holding my head immobile. He drove himself deeper, ramming his cock past the point of pain into a raw, burning abyss.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was a low snarl. “After all these years waiting for a taste, you think you can skip dinner?”

He yanked my head back, then slammed me forward again.

“Stupid faggot.”

---

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Professor Carter’s Apartment

The last day of finals had finally arrived, and the air in the classroom was thick with a mix of relief and exhaustion. Eric was packing up his bag when Professor Carter’s voice cut through the chatter. “Eric, could I have a word?”

Eric glanced up, surprised. “Sure, Professor.”

Professor Carter waited until the room had emptied, the last of the students filing out with their backpacks slung over their shoulders and the hum of post-finals chatter fading into the hallway. He leaned casually against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Eric as he packed up his things. The professor’s expression was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes that made Eric pause, his hands stilling on the zipper of his bag.

“Eric,” Professor Carter began, his voice smooth and measured, “could I have a word?”

Eric glanced up, his heart skipping a beat at the tone. It wasn’t the usual casual dismissal or the professional distance he’d grown accustomed to over the semester. There was something else there—something that made the air between them feel heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. “Sure, Professor,” Eric replied, his voice steady despite the sudden flutter in his chest.

Professor Carter waited until the door clicked shut behind the last student before speaking again. He straightened, his posture relaxed but deliberate, and took a step closer. “I couldn’t help but notice your… dedication to your studies this semester,” he said, the word lingering in the air like a secret shared just between them. His eyes flicked down for the briefest moment, catching on the striped cotton socks peeking out from beneath Eric’s black chinos, before meeting his gaze again. “You’ve been… remarkably focused.”

Eric swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He wasn’t sure if it was the way the professor’s voice dropped slightly on those words or the way his gaze seemed to linger just a fraction too long, but he felt exposed, as if something unspoken had been laid bare between them. “I—uh, thanks,” he managed, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag.

Professor Carter smiled then, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that sent a shiver down Eric’s spine. “I thought perhaps we could discuss it further,” he continued, his tone casual but laced with something deeper, something that made Eric’s pulse quicken. “My apartment, later tonight? Say, around eight?”

The invitation hung in the air, heavy with implication. Eric hesitated for only a moment, his mind racing even as his body seemed to respond instinctively. He nodded, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him. “Yeah,” he said, meeting the professor’s gaze head-on. “That works.”

Professor Carter’s smile widened, just slightly, and he gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “Good,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “I’ll see you then.” He turned back to his desk, effectively ending the conversation, but the weight of his words lingered in the air long after Eric stepped out into the hallway, his heart pounding in his chest.

Eric hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that works.”

—

At eight sharp, Eric stood outside Professor Carter’s apartment, his heart pounding. He knocked, and the door opened to reveal the professor, dressed in dark jeans and Chelsea boots, his usual commanding presence softened by a warm smile. “Come in, Eric.”

Eric stepped inside, shrugging off his coat, which Professor Carter took and hung neatly by the door. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

“Sure,” Eric replied, his voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach.

They settled on the couch, glasses in hand. Eric’s black chinos and sneakers felt oddly conspicuous, the striped cotton crew socks peeking out just enough to draw attention. Professor Carter’s gaze lingered there for a moment before he leaned back, his own black cotton socks visible as he crossed one leg over the other.

The conversation flowed easily at first—discussions about the semester, Eric’s plans for the future—but there was an undercurrent of tension neither could ignore. The air between them felt charged, every glance and gesture laden with unspoken desire. Professor Carter’s eyes lingered on Eric’s face, his gaze dropping occasionally to the hint of striped cotton socks peeking out from beneath his black chinos. Eric shifted slightly, his sneakers brushing against the carpet, and the professor’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

Professor Carter set his wine glass down on the coffee table with deliberate slowness, the soft clink of glass against wood breaking the silence. He turned to Eric, his voice low and smooth, like velvet. “You’ve been on my mind a lot lately, Eric,” he began, his tone casual but laced with something deeper. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”

Eric’s heart skipped a beat, his fingers tightening around his own glass. He set it down carefully, his throat suddenly dry. “Oh?” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The professor leaned in closer, his breath warm against Eric’s ear as he murmured, “Something I think you’ll enjoy.” His hand brushed against Eric’s knee, the touch light but electric, sending a shiver up Eric’s spine.

Eric’s breath hitched as Professor Carter’s lips grazed his jawline, the stubble of the older man’s face rough against his skin. The professor’s hand slid up to cup Eric’s cheek, turning his face gently so their eyes met. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the tension between them palpable, a silent question hanging in the air.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Professor Carter closed the distance between them. His lips pressed against Eric’s in a kiss that started soft, almost tentative, but quickly deepened. His tongue brushed against Eric’s lower lip, seeking entrance, and Eric parted his lips with a quiet gasp. The professor’s tongue slid into his mouth, exploring with a hunger that made Eric’s head spin.

The kiss was intoxicating, a mix of wine and desire that left Eric breathless. Professor Carter’s hand moved to the back of Eric’s neck, holding him firmly but gently as he kissed him with a passion that left no room for doubt. Eric’s hands found their way to the professor’s chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as he kissed him back with equal fervor.

When they finally pulled apart, both men were breathing heavily, their faces flushed. Professor Carter’s eyes were dark with desire as he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you in my class.”

Eric swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. “Me too,” he admitted, his voice trembling.

The professor smiled, a slow, predatory grin that sent another wave of heat through Eric. “Good,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Because this is just the beginning.”

Eric’s breath hitched. “What’s that?”

Professor Carter leaned in, his lips brushing against Eric’s ear as he whispered, “Worship your feet.”

A shiver ran down Eric’s spine. He nodded, his voice barely audible. “Okay.”

Professor Carter moved with purpose, sliding off the couch to kneel on the floor in front of Eric. His hands rested on Eric’s knees for a moment, steadying himself, before he reached for the first sneaker. He untied the laces slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushing against Eric’s ankle as he pulled the shoe off. The second sneaker followed, and Eric’s socked feet were fully exposed, the striped cotton hugging his arches and toes perfectly.

Professor Carter exhaled sharply, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped Eric’s feet. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He leaned in, pressing his nose against the fabric of Eric’s sock, inhaling deeply. The scent was intoxicating—a mix of cotton, sweat, and something uniquely Eric. Professor Carter groaned softly, his lips brushing against the sock as he kissed the arch of Eric’s foot.

Eric’s breath came faster, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as Professor Carter continued to worship his feet. The professor’s tongue traced the outline of Eric’s toes through the fabric, his hands massaging the soles with firm, deliberate strokes. Every touch sent waves of pleasure through Eric, his body responding eagerly to the attention. He could feel the warmth of the professor’s breath through the cotton, the faint dampness of his tongue as it pressed against the arch of his foot. It was an intimate act, one that made Eric’s heart race and his skin tingle with anticipation.

Professor Carter’s hands moved with purpose, kneading the soft flesh beneath the striped socks, his fingers pressing into the sensitive spots that made Eric’s toes curl. The sensation was electric, a mix of pressure and warmth that seemed to radiate up his legs and settle low in his stomach. Eric let out a shaky breath, his head falling back against the couch as he surrendered to the feeling. The professor’s lips brushed against the fabric again, this time lingering on the ball of his foot, and Eric couldn’t suppress the soft moan that escaped his lips.

“You like that, don’t you?” Professor Carter murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down Eric’s spine. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead sliding his tongue along the length of Eric’s sole, the fabric dampening slightly under his ministrations. The scent of Eric’s feet—a mix of cotton and sweat—filled the air, intoxicating and primal. Professor Carter inhaled deeply, his nose pressing into the arch as if committing the aroma to memory. “God, you smell incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Eric’s hands tightened on the edge of the couch, his knuckles whitening as the professor’s tongue moved to the tips of his toes, teasing each one through the fabric. The sensation was almost too much, a slow, deliberate torture that left him trembling. He could feel the heat building inside him, a coil of tension that threatened to snap with every stroke of the professor’s tongue. “Please,” Eric breathed, his voice barely audible, though he wasn’t sure what he was asking for—more, or for it to never end.

Professor Carter seemed to understand. His hands slid up to Eric’s calves, gripping them firmly as he pressed his face more insistently against Eric’s foot. His tongue worked in slow, deliberate circles, tracing patterns over the fabric that made Eric’s breath hitch. The professor’s own breathing was heavy now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he lost himself in the act. “You’re perfect,” he murmured against Eric’s socked foot, his voice rough with need. “Every inch of you.”

Eric’s body was on fire, every nerve alight with the intensity of the moment. He could feel the wetness of the professor’s tongue through the cotton, the way it clung to his skin as it moved. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the electric connection between them. Eric’s hips shifted restlessly, his arousal undeniable as he gave himself over completely to the sensation. “Don’t stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling with desperation. And Professor Carter didn’t, his devotion unwavering as he continued to worship Eric’s feet with a fervor that left them both breathless.

“Your turn,” Eric said hoarsely, pulling Professor Carter up to sit beside him.

The professor didn’t need to be asked twice. He kicked off his Chelsea boots, revealing his own black cotton socks. Eric knelt on the floor now, his hands trembling as he reached for Professor Carter’s feet. He pressed his face against the fabric, breathing in the musky scent that made his head spin.

Eric’s tongue darted out, tracing the arch of Professor Carter’s foot through the soft black cotton sock. The fabric was warm against his lips, carrying the faint musk of the professor’s skin, a scent that made Eric’s head swim with desire. He pressed his face closer, inhaling deeply, the aroma filling his senses like an intoxicating perfume. His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, following the curve of the arch before sliding down to the ball of the foot, where the fabric was slightly damp from the professor’s earlier movements. Eric groaned softly, the taste and smell overwhelming him in the best way possible.

Professor Carter let out a low, guttural moan, his head falling back against the couch as he surrendered to the sensation. His fingers gripped the edge of the cushion, knuckles whitening as Eric continued his worship. “God, Eric,” he breathed, his voice rough and strained. “You have no idea how good that feels.” Eric didn’t respond with words—he couldn’t. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, his tongue now exploring the contours of the professor’s toes through the sock. He could feel the shape of each digit beneath the fabric, and he lingered there, savoring every detail.

The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, each exhale mingling with the occasional gasp or moan that escaped their lips. Eric’s hands moved to cradle Professor Carter’s foot, his thumbs pressing into the sole in slow, circular motions. The professor shuddered, his body arching slightly as the dual sensations of Eric’s tongue and hands sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. “Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice barely audible but laced with urgency. Eric didn’t need to be told twice. He increased the pressure of his thumbs, kneading the sole with firm, deliberate strokes while his tongue continued its exploration.

As Eric worked, he couldn’t help but notice how perfect Professor Carter’s feet were—the way the socks hugged every curve, the way the fabric clung to his skin, accentuating every detail. He pulled back for a moment, just long enough to press his nose against the arch and inhale deeply again. The scent was stronger now, more concentrated, and it sent a jolt of arousal straight to Eric’s core. He let out a shaky breath before diving back in, his tongue now tracing the outline of each toe through the sock, his lips brushing against the fabric in soft, reverent kisses.

Professor Carter’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Eric’s ministrations pushed him closer to the edge. “Eric,” he gasped, his voice trembling with need. “You’re driving me crazy.” Eric glanced up briefly, meeting the professor’s darkened gaze, and felt a surge of pride at the sight of him so undone. He returned his attention to the foot in his hands, his tongue now sliding along the underside of the toes, teasing the sensitive skin there. The professor let out a strangled moan, his hips shifting restlessly against the couch as he struggled to maintain control.

The air between them was thick with tension, charged with an electric energy that neither of them could ignore. Eric’s own arousal was undeniable now, his body responding eagerly to every sound and movement from Professor Carter. But he forced himself to focus, to savor every moment of this intimate act. He pressed one last kiss to the arch of the professor’s foot before pulling back slightly, his hands still massaging the sole. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. Professor Carter reached down, his fingers tangling in Eric’s hair as he pulled him up for a searing kiss, their shared passion igniting anew.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces flushed and their bodies thrumming with arousal, Professor Carter reached for Eric’s hand. “We have to do this again,” he said, his voice rough with need.

Eric nodded, his heart racing. “Definitely.”

Their lips met in a heated kiss, the taste of wine and desire mingling between them. As they deepened the kiss, their hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. The anticipation of what was to come hung heavy in the air, neither of them willing to pull away just yet.

“Stay,” Professor Carter murmured against Eric’s lips.

Eric didn’t hesitate. “I will.”

Professor Carter’s hands slid down Eric’s chest as they stumbled toward the bedroom, their breaths mingling in the dimly lit hallway. The older man’s lips grazed Eric’s neck, sending shivers down his spine. “You’re exquisite,” Carter murmured, his voice low and hungry. Eric’s heart pounded as he felt the professor’s urgency, his own desire rising to match it.

They pushed through the bedroom door, and Carter wasted no time, guiding Eric to the bed with a firm yet tender grip. Eric lay back, his socked feet propped up on Carter’s broad shoulders. The professor’s eyes gleamed with arousal as he leaned down, inhaling deeply. The scent of Eric’s patterned socks filled the air, a mix of cotton and the faint musk of a long day. Carter’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Perfect,” he whispered, his voice dripping with need.

Eric’s breath hitched as Carter began to explore his feet, his tongue tracing the arch through the fabric of his socks. The sensation was electric, each lick sending jolts of pleasure through Eric’s body. He gripped the sheets tightly, his moans escaping in ragged bursts. “God, yes,” Eric murmured, his hips lifting slightly off the bed.

Carter’s hands gripped Eric’s ankles, holding him steady as he deepened his worship. He pressed his nose into the sole of Eric’s socked foot, inhaling deeply before letting his tongue glide over the damp fabric. The taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and warmth that drove Carter wild. He pulled one sock down just enough to expose the top of Eric’s foot, his lips trailing kisses along the sensitive skin before sliding the sock back into place.

“You taste incredible,” Carter growled, his voice rough with desire. He shifted his attention to Eric’s other foot, his tongue dragging along the seams of the sock, teasing every inch. Eric’s breath came in short gasps, his body trembling under the relentless attention. “Fuck, Professor,” he groaned, his hands clenching the sheets tighter.

Carter chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against Eric’s ankle. “Call me James,” he purred, his eyes locking onto Eric’s. The younger man nodded, his lips parting in a silent plea for more. Carter obliged, his tongue darting out to trace the outline of Eric’s big toe through the sock. The sensation was maddening, Eric’s hips bucking as he struggled to contain himself.

“James,” Eric whispered, his voice trembling. “I need… more.”

Carter’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he stood, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt while keeping his own socks firmly in place. Eric watched, his gaze lingering on the professor’s muscular chest and the dark trail of hair leading down to his waistband. Carter’s pants followed, pooling at his feet, but his socks remained, the fabric clinging to his strong calves.

Eric’s eyes widened as he took in the sight, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch. He quickly stripped off his shirt and jeans, leaving his patterned socks untouched. The sight of their nearly naked bodies, socks still on, was almost too much to bear. Carter climbed onto the bed, straddling Eric’s hips as he leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Their tongues tangled, the taste of wine and desire fueling their passion. Carter’s hands roamed over Eric’s chest, his fingers tracing the lines of his abs before dipping lower. Eric gasped as Carter’s fingers brushed against his aching erection, the fabric of his socks rubbing against the professor’s thighs.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Carter growled, his lips trailing down Eric’s neck. His hands slid down to grip Eric’s socked feet once more, lifting them to rest on his shoulders. “I want to feel every inch of you,” he murmured, his voice husky with need.

Eric moaned as Carter’s lips found his feet again, his tongue lapping at the fabric with a fervor that left Eric dizzy. The professor’s hands gripped his ankles, holding him steady as he worshipped every inch of Eric’s socked feet. The sensation was overwhelming, Eric’s body writhing under the relentless attention.

“James,” Eric gasped, his voice breaking. “Please… I need you.”

Carter’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Eric’s ear. “Tell me what you want,” he purred, his breath hot against Eric’s skin.

“Fuck me,” Eric whispered, his voice trembling with need. “I want you inside me.”

Carter’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he reached for the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, warming it between them before teasing Eric’s entrance. Eric’s breath hitched, his hips lifting as Carter’s fingers pressed inside, stretching him carefully.

“You’re so tight,” Carter murmured, his voice thick with desire. He added another finger, scissoring them gently as he kissed Eric’s socked feet. The sensation was almost too much, Eric’s moans filling the room as he clenched around Carter’s fingers.

“I’m ready,” Eric gasped, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. “Please, James… I need you.”

Carter’s eyes locked onto Eric’s as he slicked himself with lube, his cock throbbing with need. He positioned himself at Eric’s entrance, his socked feet brushing against Eric’s thighs as he pushed inside slowly. Eric’s breath caught in his throat, his body welcoming Carter as he sank deeper.

“Fuck,” Carter groaned, his hips moving in slow, deliberate thrusts. “You feel incredible.”

Eric’s moans mingled with Carter’s as they moved together, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of desire. Carter’s hands gripped Eric’s socked feet, holding them steady as he picked up the pace. The friction of their socks rubbing against each other added another layer of sensation, driving them both closer to the edge.

“James,” Eric gasped, his nails digging into the sheets. “Don’t stop.”

Carter’s thrusts became harder, faster, his hips slamming into Eric’s with a force that left them both breathless. Eric’s cock twitched between them, pre-cum pooling on his stomach as he teetered on the brink of orgasm. Carter’s lips found his socked feet once more, his tongue lapping at the fabric as he drove into Eric with unrelenting force.

“Come for me,” Carter growled, his voice rough with need.

Eric’s body trembled as he obeyed, his release crashing over him in waves. Carter’s own orgasm followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside Eric. They clung to each other, their breaths mingling as they rode out the aftershocks of their passion.

For a long moment, they lay tangled together, their socks still clinging to their feet. Carter’s lips brushed against Eric’s ear, his voice soft yet filled with promise. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured.

Eric’s heart raced as he nodded, his body still humming with pleasure. “Me neither,” he whispered, his lips curling into a smile. He felt Carter’s weight shift slightly, the warmth of their bodies pressed together in the aftermath of their passion. Eric’s socked feet, now damp with sweat and saliva, still rested on Carter’s shoulders, the professor’s hands lazily tracing the arches through the fabric. The sensation was soothing yet tantalizing, a reminder of the intensity they’d just shared.

Carter’s lips brushed against Eric’s neck, his breath hot and teasing. “You’re insatiable,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. His fingers continued to explore Eric’s socked feet, sliding along the seams and pressing into the soles with a gentleness that sent shivers through Eric’s body. “I can’t get enough of these,” Carter admitted, his tongue darting out to taste the damp fabric once more. Eric moaned softly, his hips twitching as the sensation reignited his arousal.

The professor chuckled darkly, his hands sliding up Eric’s legs to grip his thighs. “You’re trembling,” he observed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “I thought I wore you out.” Eric shook his head, his eyes locking onto Carter’s with a mixture of exhaustion and undeniable hunger. “Not even close,” he breathed, his hands reaching out to pull Carter closer. Their chests pressed together, skin slick with sweat, as Carter leaned down to capture Eric’s lips in a searing kiss.

Their tongues tangled, the taste of desire and need fueling their connection. Carter’s hands roamed over Eric’s body, tracing every curve and dip with a possessiveness that left Eric gasping. “You’re mine,” Carter growled, his voice thick with possessiveness. Eric nodded eagerly, his hips lifting slightly off the bed in silent plea for more. “Yours,” he whispered, his voice trembling with need.

Carter’s lips trailed down Eric’s chest, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin before settling on his socked feet once more. The professor’s tongue dragged over the fabric, his hands gripping Eric’s ankles tightly. “I’m going to make you forget everything but me,” Carter promised, his voice rough with desire. Eric’s breath hitched, his body arching as Carter’s lips found the damp sole of his foot, his tongue tracing every inch with a fervor that left Eric dizzy.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, Carter worshipping Eric’s feet with a devotion that bordered on obsession. Eric’s moans filled the room, his body trembling under the relentless attention. “James,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “I’m so close…” Carter’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Eric’s ear. “Then come for me,” he purred, his voice rough with need. Eric’s body shuddered as he obeyed, his release crashing over him in waves.

Professor Carter’s own climax followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside Eric. They clung to each other, their breaths mingling as they rode out the aftershocks of their passion. For a long moment, they lay tangled together, their socks still clinging to their feet. Carter’s lips brushed against Eric’s ear, his voice soft yet filled with promise. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured. Eric’s heart raced as he nodded, his body still humming with pleasure. “Me neither,” he whispered, his lips curling into a smile.

Discipline and Display

Narrator: Toby

His punishment paddle still hangs in full view on the wall of our living room. Instinctively I place a hand over my butt, thinking back to the day he put it up there.

Florian notices where I’m looking and comes to stand beside me.

“I really put you through it sometimes, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve hated me at times.”

“I could never hate you, Florian.”

He sinks down onto the sofa and gestures for me to sit beside him. “It’s probably time to tell you why I was so strict with you.”

“Wasn’t that just part of your role as Supervisor? You had to keep me in check because of my sentence. But, um…” I hesitate for a moment, then decide to speak my mind. “Sometimes you really humiliated me. Why did you do that? Weren’t the slaps enough?”

He takes my hand. “It was important for the City to see how firmly I was dealing with you. Some of the patricians thought you’d got off too lightly with your custodial sentence.”

“What do you mean? Were they hoping it would fail?”

“Yes. A few wealthy patricians you once stole from. If they’d had their way, the City would’ve taken you away from me. I couldn’t let that happen. That’s why I had to stay strict.”

I let his words sink in. Every smack, every punishment – not to put me down, but to protect me.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“You already had more than enough to deal with. I thought it was more important that you felt safe here.”

He kisses me gently on the lips. “That’s all in the past now. No one can take you away anymore. We don’t have to keep that paddle up there, you know.”

“Leave it. That paddle kept me out of prison. And it’s become a familiar part of the décor.”

He gives me a playful nudge on the arm. “Didn’t realize you’d grown so attached to it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I rub my behind with exaggerated flair.

Florian gets up and pulls me to my feet, laughing. “Come on, we’ve got shopping to do. There’s still loads to get for your party tonight.”

The party’s for me – because today, my custodial sentence officially comes to an end.

We walk out to the car together. Florian has kept me going all these years – more than I ever realized. No, no one’s ever taking me away from my prince.

****

Florian parks the car, loaded with food and drinks, at the entrance to the Peel Bastion. At the edge of the terrace, I spot Pamela with an olive-skinned guy who looks oddly familiar – and nervous.

Pamela and I stayed in touch. She wasn’t held accountable for the Holy Boys’ crimes and now lives in a new apartment in our district.

Suddenly, I recognize the boy beside her. “Jimmy!” I call out, running up to them. “Man, it’s so good to see you again, healthy and alive!”

“Hey Toby, buddy.” He grins and shakes my hand, then we slap a high five before hugging tight, a bit overwhelmed.

Florian joins us. “Well, Toby,” he says cheerfully, “who’s this fine young man?”

“This is Jimmy,” I blurt out – but then I see Jimmy’s face. He looks flustered. And I get it. I freeze up.

It’s Florian who saves the moment. He wraps an arm around me and looks at him. “Toby told me about a boy named Jimmy. A real friend, back when he had no one else. Would that have been you?”

Jimmy stammers. “I… uh…”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That was Jimmy. A real friend.”

“Well, in that case, I’m very glad to meet you, Jimmy. I’m Florian.”

The former Holy Boys gang member shakes Florian’s hand a little hesitantly. His smile is tight, and he doesn’t quite meet Florian’s eyes.

My prince speaks in his calm, level voice. “You know, if there’s one thing Toby has taught me, it’s that everyone deserves a second chance.”

Gratefully, I tighten my arm around his waist. “You can trust him,” I tell Jimmy. “He’s alright. Not like most of those stuck-up City assholes.”

Florian raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me, Toby?”

“What? It’s true.”

I glance at him, a little sheepish, but he just chuckles. Jimmy seems to relax a little.

I give Jimmy a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Man, I’ve thought about you so many times! Where’ve you been all these years?”

Pamela answers for him. “He was hiding out in a village near Cologne. I ran into him at a market, stocking up on food.” A bit accusingly, she adds, “It took some serious effort to convince him it was safe to come back.”

“Do you have a place to stay?” I ask Jimmy.

“He’s crashing with me for now,” Pamela says. “Maybe later he can, um…”

I look at Florian. “We can find something for him, right? I mean, we’re building so much right now.” And to Jimmy: “There’ll be room here for twenty thousand Outsiders. That’s twice what we originally planned.”

Florian nods. “That’s thanks in part to some brilliant ideas from Toby. And, of course, the generous subsidies from the very same City you folks love to hate.” He winks. “Yeah Toby, I’m sure we can sort out a little flat for your friend.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll unload the groceries. You go catch up with your friends.”

He extends a hand to Jimmy. “Will we see you at the party later?”

Jimmy hesitates. “I’m not sure… Won’t there be a bunch of City bigshots there?”

“A few, yeah. This project”, he gestures at me, “is a success story they’re proud to celebrate.”

“Then I think I’ll skip it. Sorry, Toby…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Totally get it.” And to Pamela: “You’ll come, though?”

“What do you think? I rushed all the way back just to be here for your big night. Jimmy’ll just have to entertain himself if he’s staying behind.”

Florian waves. “Take care, Jimmy. Hope to see you again soon.”

I watch him walk back to the car.

“He’s amazing,” Pamela says. “You’re really lucky, Toby.”

A warm, proud feeling floods through me. “Yeah, I know. He’s the best.”

“Pamela said you’ve been together for four years?” Jimmy asks. “And that he’s not just your boyfriend but also your Supervisor from the City?”

“Yeah, it was weird at first. But he made it work – it just became part of us.”

“But now he’s not your Supervisor anymore,” Jimmy says thoughtfully.

“That’s right. My sentence is over. So?”

“Nothing. Just… well, it’s good he’s still with you. That doesn’t happen often. In my experience, people always walk out on you eventually. But maybe he’s different.”

Pamela punches him in the arm. “We don’t walk out on each other. Got it?”

“I walked out on you guys. Back then, when I…”

“Cut it out,” Pamela snaps. “Or I’ll give you a serious spanking!”

Jimmy throws up a hand in mock alarm, pulling a fake-scared face. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up.”

The three of us stroll into the new district – best friends, bound by a shared and tangled past. Jimmy seems a lot more at ease now that we’re just Outsiders among ourselves. The mood is light and relaxed.

Still, that old knot in my stomach tightens – silly, but it’s never really gone.

In a conspiratorial tone, Jimmy says, “Pamela told me there are a couple of nice bars around here now. How about grabbing a beer sometime this week?”

“Sure,” I say lightly. “Let’s do that.”

I keep my smile in place, but my thoughts are already miles away – where the rules live, where the limits are, and where the hand that keeps me steady waits.

****

It was ten months after I’d started my placement at the Peel Bastion. Florian and Fabian had travelled with a delegation from New Rotterdam to Antwerp, where the City Council had taken a keen interest in our project. That left Mike and me with the place to ourselves. We decided to throw a little party, and things got way too cheerful that evening.

Why I drank so much, I couldn’t really say. Maybe I just wanted to let go for a night, now that Florian wasn’t there to keep an eye on me. Maybe I didn’t want to look like a wimp in front of Mike, who was just as tipsy as I was. Or maybe I wanted to drown out that nagging thought that I didn’t really deserve this life.

Whatever the reason, I woke up the next morning with a crushing hangover. Mike had crashed on the sofa next to me. He jolted awake when he heard me retching loudly into the toilet. Everything was spinning, and my stomach wouldn’t stop lurching.

Mike fetched a bucket from the kitchen and placed it beside my bed. “Use this if you need to be sick again. That way you won’t have to run to the bathroom every time.” One look at his face told me how rough I must’ve appeared.

“Thanks,” I managed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” A second later, the final remains of last night’s dinner came up. I just about grabbed the bucket in time.

Mike barely left my side until Florian and Fabian came home a few hours later. They knew straight away what had happened. Mike had tried to tidy away the bottles and glasses as best he could, but the stench of booze hung unmistakably in the air.

Florian sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling, buddy?”

Meanwhile, Fabian turned on Mike. “We left Toby in your care. You were supposed to look after him. You call this looking after him? Getting wasted together?”

In a croaky voice I said, “Mike’s not to blame. I drank it all myself.”

Fabian looked at me. “I appreciate you sticking up for him, but he needs to take his responsibilities more seriously.” Then to Mike: “Come on. We’ll talk about it at home.”

Fabian and Mike left the room, and I sank back into bed.

Florian boiled a kettle and soon placed a warm cup of tea beside me. “Try to drink some if you can. It’s important you don’t get dehydrated.”

The steam carried a whiff of mint, but just the thought of it made my stomach turn.

Florian sat on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees, shoulders too tense. His eyes darted across my face, my hands, as if searching for something to hold on to, something to make sense of what had happened. But there was nothing to figure out. I’d done this to myself.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“We’ll get to that,” Florian said softly.

His words barely registered.

After what felt like forever, my body finally began to recover. The room stopped spinning, and my stomach started to settle.

Then came a timid knock at the door. Florian glanced at me one more time, then left the bedroom to answer it.

I recognized Mike’s voice. He sounded shaken, like something had completely drained him. “Fabian wants me to show you something.”

“All right,” said Florian. “Come on in.”

Mike followed him into the bedroom, where I was still lying in bed, worn out and drained. He stood there, staring at nothing, avoiding eye contact.

With a sigh, he turned around and dropped his jeans. His buttocks were a blazing red.

Florian placed a hand gently on the punished skin of my fellow offender. Then he stepped back so I could get a good look too. In the same tone he might’ve used to comment on the weather, Florian said, “All right Mike, thanks.”

Mike pulled up his pants and fled the room.

The image of Mike’s bare, punished butt kept playing in my mind, along with a single, overwhelming thought: this was my fault. “He didn’t do anything wrong,” I said hoarsely. “That spanking should’ve been mine.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Florian said, his voice low and dark. “You’ll get yours too.”

My breath caught. This was different from any other time I’d been punished. This time, I had really messed up – not just in the eyes of the City, but in Florian’s eyes too. And that hurt more than any punishment ever could.

But… he was still here. He hadn’t walked away.

****

The next day, my hangover was gone – but Florian’s promise hung heavy in the air.

That afternoon, once he was sure I’d fully recovered, he took me to his study. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a worn piece of wood. I recognized it at once: it was the old punishment paddle from his police days.

“I’d hoped never to use this on you again, Toby.” The words hit me like a knife to the chest.

Florian sat down on a chair at the edge of the room. His gaze swept over me, heavy as a touch.

“We’re going to deal with this thoroughly, so you don’t repeat that kind of behavior. Strip.”

With a knot in my stomach, I obeyed. Florian followed my every movement. As I took off my clothes, I could feel the blood rising in my face – not just from embarrassment, but from something else too. A strange kind of certainty. Whatever he was about to do to me, I knew he was still on my side.

Last of all, I placed my briefs on top of the other clothes and stood there – naked, vulnerable. But not abandoned. Not by him.

He motioned for me to lie across his lap. I met his gaze. It was gentle, but firm. There was no escape. I lowered myself into position, my bare bottom exposed to the punishment I’d been promised.

In a calm voice, he said, “I’m sorry, Toby, but I have to do this. You missed a working day, and it was your own fault. As your Supervisor, it’s my duty to discipline you.”

Just like before, he made me wait for the first blow. My breathing quickened. This was serious.

The paddle landed with a heavy thud, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my butt – pain I hadn’t felt in a long time. I groaned softly and clung to the seat of the chair. Florian brought the paddle down rhythmically, making sure every swat counted. The blows seared into my flesh, brutal, unrelenting.

Then, all of a sudden, a loud crack rang out as the paddle hit me yet again. Florian muttered a curse under his breath.

He pulled me upright and I stood in front of him. His fingers traced along a large split in the wood. A few splinters had come loose. He looked at me, startled.

“Let me see your bottom.”

I turned around and he gently ran his fingers across my cheeks.

“You’re fine,” he said, the relief clear in his voice. “But I’m not using that paddle again.”

For a moment, I hoped he might call it a day. No such luck.

After a pause, he said, “There’s a cheese board in the kitchen with a handle. That should do the job. Go and fetch it, and don’t take your time. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His face was back to that uncompromising look. With a sigh, I reached for my clothes.

“Hands off! I didn’t say you could get dressed.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He meant it. He was sending me out into the corridor butt naked.

My heart thudded in my throat as I hurried down the hallway. Right next to the kitchen were the guest rooms, where a few City Architects were staying to help with the project. If any of them stepped into the corridor now, I’d be completely exposed.

Thankfully, I made it to the kitchen unseen. I took the board from the wall – and forgot where I was for a moment. I stood there too long, mesmerized by the solid weight of the wood in my hands.

Suddenly, the door swung open and one of the architects entered, a young man in the flamboyant dress of a patrician.

And there I was. Completely naked.

Oh man, please stop staring at me like that.

His eyes went straight to the marks on my butt, and it clicked.

“Well,” he said with a smirk, “looks like your Supervisor’s really pissed off. That for round two?” He nodded at the board in my hand.

“Yes,” I said shortly. Prick.

“Best of luck, then.”

I bolted from the kitchen. I could practically feel his eyes burning into my ass. No doubt he’d share the tale with all his rich, powerful friends. Why was Florian putting me through this humiliation?

Back in our wing, I handed Florian the board. Without a word, he pulled me back over his lap. The new paddle came down hard, again and again. My unprotected skin burned as the fire lit up across my ass.

At last, he stopped. He let me up and walked out. I was left alone, hands on my stinging cheeks, not knowing what to do with myself.

From the next room came the sound of a hammer tapping against a wall. I quickly got dressed. When I walked in, Florian was just finishing putting up his new paddle.

I stared at it. Wanted to say something. Thought better of it. And slumped down on the sofa in silence.

Florian came to sit beside me and placed a hand on my knee. “We’ll talk tonight,” he said. “But this isn’t over yet.”

****

My punishment was far from over. The City took matters like this very seriously, and so did my Supervisor. Over the next week, I was spanked every evening, once for each working hour I’d missed. Just as the sting from the previous day would begin to fade, Florian would lead me back to his study for the next round. The result? A bottom that stayed sore for eight days straight.

After the final spanking, Florian suddenly grabbed me by the arm and marched me down the corridor, still butt naked. Without a word, he took me back to the communal kitchen, where two City Architects were in the middle of their evening meal. One of them was the same guy who’d caught me the week before. They both looked up, surprised.

Florian paid them no attention. He took a cloth from the cupboard and held it under the tap. Then he gently dabbed my burning red butt. The architects stared at us, mouths slightly open, too stunned to speak.

“Well, kid,” Florian said, “I think you’ve learned your lesson this week.” Then, casually, to our guests: “He’s had a spanking every day for the past eight days, for neglecting his duties to the City.”

I felt my face flush, but the architects nodded approvingly. “Good work, Supervisor.”

“Enjoy your meal, and sorry for the disturbance,” said Florian, and led me by the arm back to our own quarters. Once we were inside, his manner changed.

“All right, Toby. That’s it. You’ll be feeling it for a while yet, but the worst is over.”

“You knew they’d be in there,” I said accusingly.

“Of course. They always eat at that time. The City has a right to see how I’m handling you. But it’s done now. I say we leave it behind us.”

“Gladly.” All I wanted was for things to go back to normal.

“Good. I’m in the mood for a beer. How about you?”

“Am I allowed to drink again?”

“You are – under supervision, of course.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hand.

“Non-negotiable.”

With a sigh, I started to get dressed, while Florian went to fetch the beers from our fridge.

****

Florian is busy in the function hall, arranging tables and chairs, his eyes focused as he fine-tunes the layout.

My heart skips a beat as I walk over to him. The question I’ve been holding back burns on my tongue. I have no idea how he’ll react. But I have to ask. Now. Here.

“Florian.”

He hears the tension in my voice. His beautiful, sparkling blue eyes sweep over me, assessing. “What is it, buddy?”

“Pamela and Jimmy want to go for drinks with me this week. At the Outside Bar.”

“Ah. So the three of you want to grab a beer there?”

“Basically, yes.”

He pauses. “You remember how many drinks you’re allowed?”

“Yes, Florian, I know.” The irritation in my voice is hard to miss.

Florian pretends not to notice. “Do you think you’ll stick to your limit even if I’m not there?”

“Oh come on,” I burst out. “It’s been nearly three years since I got that sick from drinking. Are you planning to punish me for that forever?”

He answers calmly, “As of today, you’re a free man. My role as your Supervisor is over. You’re completely free to make your own decisions now.”

To my own surprise, that thought makes me flinch. Why do I suddenly feel so unsure of myself?

“Aren’t I still your property?” I ask, almost pleading.

His fingers stroke the back of my neck. “As your owner, I’m allowed to worry about you a little, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” My voice trembles. I wish I’d never brought it up.

He asks again, gently but firmly, “Do you think you’ll be able to stick to your limit?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I promise.”

“Don’t promise. Just do it.”

He smiles when he sees me nodding vigorously.

“All right, Toby. I once asked you to trust me. Now it’s time I start trusting you. Go on, then. I hope you have a great evening.”

Panic gives way to relief. He isn’t pushing me away, he’s just worried about me.

On impulse, I kiss him full on the mouth and press my tongue against his. A burst of intense passion… Then he laughs and gives me a playful shove on the chest.

“Go on then, tell them the good news.”

Almost floating, I make my way over to where my two mates from the Outside are waiting for me.

****

The evening sun bathes the streets in deep orange. Pamela has already gone back to the Peel Bastion – she’s meeting up with a friend there.

I unfold the map of the new district and point out the spot to Jimmy. “This is the Outside Bar, where we’ll grab that beer on Thursday. They’re open tonight too. Good food, great view of the district.”

Jimmy hesitates. “I like the idea, but… you know, I’m just some broke Outsider. I can swing a beer, but a whole meal? I’d rather grab something cheap.”

“Ah, that was dumb of me. Didn’t even think about that. I sound like one of those stuck-up City boys.” I dig into my wallet and press some money into his hand. “Here. You can borrow it.”

He looks startled. “Where’d you get that? Don’t tell me you’re back to stealing again?”

“Florian gave it to me. An advance on my first paycheck. He says I’m a free man now, and I deserve money of my own.”

“But that’s your money. I can’t take that. Really…”

“Take it. I’ve got more than enough. The Bastion’s been feeding me for years. Just keep it, okay? I don’t want you chewing on a soggy snack while I’m off partying. You were my only real friend in the Holy Boys. I’m gonna help you find your feet here. Now get moving to the Outside Bar or I’ll drag you with me to the Bastion.”

Jimmy sighs. “Alright, have it your way.” Then he smiles, really smiles. Warm and genuine. “Thanks, man. You’re amazing. Not sure what I ever did to deserve a friend like you.”

We hug, then part ways. I watch him go, still looking a little awkward, like he hasn’t quite figured out how to move through this place yet.

Slowly I stroll back toward the Bastion. Seeing Jimmy again makes me feel oddly grounded. I’m looking forward to showing him around, making sure he feels just as welcome here as I did.

But at the same time, something starts gnawing at me. I can’t shake it.

It’s nothing, I tell myself. Don’t be stupid. Everything’s fine.

Still… it won’t let go.