Anticipation

The next day, I was a wreck of anticipation from the moment I woke up.

Harry had left early for work, pressing a kiss to my forehead before heading out, and I’d spent the entire day in a state of heightened arousal, replaying yesterday’s session over and over in my mind. The memory of those rank socks pressed against my face, the overwhelming stench of his trainers, the way he’d dominated me so completely—it all had me half-hard for most of the day.

He’d texted me around three in the afternoon: Gym after work. Be ready for me. On your knees by the door. Naked.

My cock had immediately stiffened in my jeans, and I’d had to adjust myself discreetly at my desk. The rest of the workday had dragged interminably, every minute feeling like an hour as I watched the clock, counting down until I could go home and prepare myself for him.

I’d left work early, claiming a headache, which wasn’t entirely untrue—I had an ache, just not in my head. By the time I got home, I had two hours to kill before Harry would arrive, and I spent them in a state of nervous, excited energy.

I showered thoroughly, making sure I was completely clean for him. Harry liked me pristine before he made me filthy. I even douched, knowing that he’d probably want to fuck me again, and I wanted to be ready for whatever he had planned.

Then I waited.

I’d set myself up by the front door at half past five, kneeling on the hardwood floor completely naked, my cock already half-hard with anticipation. The position was uncomfortable, my knees aching against the hard surface, but that was part of it—the discomfort, the submission, the waiting.

Every minute that ticked by felt like torture. My mind raced with possibilities. Would he use those same socks again? He’d said he wouldn’t wash them. The thought made my cock twitch. Eleven days of wear now, even more pungent, even more disgusting. Would he make me worship them again? Would he shove them in my mouth? Make me suck on them while he fucked me?

I heard his car pull into the drive at quarter past six, and my heart rate immediately spiked. The sound of his door slamming, his footsteps on the path. I straightened my posture, head bowed, hands on my thighs, presenting myself exactly as he’d expect.

The key turned in the lock.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Harry stood in the doorway, gym bag slung over one shoulder, still in his workout gear—grey joggers and a black vest that clung to his torso, dark with sweat. His hair was damp, his face flushed from exertion, and even from where I knelt, I could smell him. That intoxicating mixture of sweat and musk and pure masculinity that made my mouth water.

He looked down at me, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face.

“Good boy,” he said, his voice low and approving. “Look at you, exactly where you belong.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied, keeping my eyes lowered.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and dropped his gym bag on the floor with a heavy thud. Then he just stood there for a moment, looking down at me, letting the anticipation build.

“Did you think about me today, Luke?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. All day, Sir.”

“Did you touch yourself?”

“No, Sir. You didn’t give me permission.”

“That’s right, I didn’t.” He reached down and gripped my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. His hand was slightly damp with sweat, and I could smell the gym on his skin. “Your cock belongs to me. Your arse belongs to me. Your mouth belongs to me. You don’t touch what’s mine without permission. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.”

“Good.” He released my chin and stepped back. “I had a fucking brutal session today. Legs and cardio. I’m absolutely drenched.” He lifted one arm, and I could see the dark patches of sweat under his arms, could smell the sharp, acrid scent of it. “Can you smell me from there?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And does it make you hard, you filthy little slut?”

“Yes, Sir,” I admitted, my cock now fully erect and leaking slightly onto my thigh.

Harry laughed, that deep, confident sound that always made me feel simultaneously small and cherished. “Of course it does. You’re such a fucking pervert, Luke. My perfect little pervert.”

He bent down and unzipped his gym bag, rummaging inside for a moment before pulling out his trainers. The same ones from yesterday. Even from a distance, I could see how worn they were, how the fabric was stained with sweat and God knows what else.

“I wore these again today,” he said, holding them up. “Didn’t even let them air out. Just shoved them back on this morning and went straight to the gym. They’re fucking rancid now.” He brought one up to his own nose and inhaled, then wrinkled his face in exaggerated disgust. “Christ, they absolutely reek. Can you imagine what they smell like inside?”

My cock twitched visibly, and Harry noticed, grinning.

“Oh, you want to find out, don’t you? You want to bury your face in these disgusting trainers and breathe in all that stale sweat and cum.”

“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

“Beg for it properly.”

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “Please, Sir, may I smell your trainers? May I worship them? I want to smell how rank they are, Sir. I want to breathe in your scent. Please let me be your trainer-sniffing slut, Sir.”

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Harry said, his voice thick with arousal. I could see the bulge in his joggers now, his cock clearly hard beneath the grey fabric. “But not yet. First, I think you need to help me out of these sweaty clothes.”

He stood directly in front of me, and I reached up with trembling hands to grip the waistband of his joggers. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, could smell the concentrated musk of his crotch even through the fabric.

“Slowly,” he commanded. “I want you to savour this.”

I obeyed, easing the joggers down inch by inch. He wasn’t wearing underwear—he never did at the gym—and his cock sprang free as I pulled the fabric down, already hard and glistening slightly at the tip. The smell hit me immediately, that concentrated, sweaty musk of his cock and balls after a workout, and I inhaled deeply without thinking.

“That’s it,” Harry murmured. “Breathe it in. That’s what a real man smells like after he’s been working hard.”

I continued pulling his joggers down, revealing his thick, muscular thighs, also glistening with sweat. When I reached his ankles, he stepped out of them, and I was confronted with his feet, still encased in those white trainer socks.

The same socks from yesterday.

Eleven days of wear.

They were visibly dirty now, the white fabric yellowed and stained, particularly around the soles and toes. And the smell—even from a foot away, I could smell them, that sharp, vinegary stench of feet that had been trapped in trainers for far too long.

“Take my vest off,” Harry ordered.

I stood on shaky legs and reached for the hem of his vest, peeling the sweat-soaked fabric up over his torso. His skin was slick with perspiration, his muscles defined and perfect. I pulled the vest over his head, and he stood before me completely naked except for those socks.

“Back on your knees,” he said.

I dropped immediately, and he stepped closer, his cock now level with my face. It was fully hard, the head dark and swollen, a bead of precum forming at the slit.

“You want this cock, don’t you?” he asked, gripping it at the base and giving it a slow stroke.

“Yes, Sir.”

“You want me to fuck your throat? Make you choke on it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Not yet.” He released his cock and instead lifted one foot, placing it on my shoulder. The smell intensified immediately, and I could see the sock up close now—the fabric worn thin in places, stained with sweat and dirt, absolutely filthy. “First, you’re going to worship these socks. You’re going to show me how much you love how disgusting they are.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

He pressed his socked foot against my face, and I inhaled deeply, the stench filling my nostrils and making my head spin. It was even worse than yesterday—sharper, more pungent, with layers of accumulated sweat and bacteria. It should have been revolting. It was revolting. And I fucking loved it.

“Smell it,” Harry commanded. “Take deep breaths. Fill your lungs with the stink of my feet.”

I obeyed, breathing in through my nose, the smell so strong it was almost a taste. My cock throbbed, leaking steadily now, and I had to resist the urge to touch myself.

“That’s it. Such a good little foot slut. Now lick it. Lick the bottom of my sock.”

He lifted his foot slightly, presenting the sole to me, and I extended my tongue, dragging it along the dirty fabric. The taste was indescribable—salty and sour and bitter all at once, the flavour of concentrated sweat and grime. I could feel the texture of the worn fabric against my tongue, could taste the days of accumulated filth.

“Fuck, look at you,” Harry groaned. “Licking my dirty sock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You’re such a fucking pervert, Luke. Such a disgusting little slut.”

“Yes, Sir,” I mumbled against his foot, continuing to lick, my tongue working over every inch of the sole.

“Now suck on my toes. Suck them through the sock.”

I moved to the front of his foot, taking his big toe into my mouth through the fabric. The taste was even more concentrated here, where sweat accumulated between his toes, and I sucked hard, my tongue working around the digit, soaking the fabric with my saliva.

“That’s it. Get it nice and wet. Suck all that sweat out of the fabric.”

I moved from toe to toe, sucking each one, my mouth filling with the taste of him. The sock was soaked now with my saliva, clinging to his toes, and Harry was groaning above me, clearly getting off on my degradation.

“Other foot,” he commanded, switching feet.

I repeated the process, worshipping his other foot with the same devotion, licking the sole, sucking his toes, breathing in that overwhelming stench until my head was spinning and my cock was aching with need.

“You love this, don’t you?” Harry asked, his voice thick. “You love being my foot bitch, my sock slut.”

“Yes, Sir. I love it, Sir.”

“Beg me to take them off. Beg me to let you worship my bare feet.”

“Please, Sir,” I gasped, looking up at him with what I knew must be desperate eyes. “Please take off your socks. Let me worship your bare feet. Let me lick between your toes, taste your sweat directly. Please, Sir. I need it.”

Harry grinned down at me, that predatory expression that made me feel like prey. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He sat down on the sofa, and I crawled over to him, positioning myself at his feet. He lifted one foot, and I carefully peeled the sock off, revealing his bare foot beneath. His skin was slightly damp with sweat, and the smell intensified even further without the fabric barrier.

“Smell it,” he ordered, holding his bare foot up to my face.

I pressed my nose against his sole and inhaled deeply. The scent was overwhelming—pure, concentrated foot sweat, sharp and vinegary and absolutely intoxicating. My cock jerked, and I had to grip my thighs to keep from touching it.

“Now lick. Clean my foot with your tongue.”

I started at his heel, dragging my tongue up along his sole, tasting the salt of his sweat directly on my tongue. I worked methodically, covering every inch of his foot, licking between each toe, sucking on them individually, cleaning away the accumulated sweat and grime.

“Good boy,” Harry murmured, his hand reaching down to stroke his cock slowly as he watched me. “Such a good little foot cleaner. Now the other one.”

I removed his other sock and repeated the process, worshipping his foot with my mouth and tongue, losing myself in the taste and smell of him. By the time I’d finished, both his feet were clean and glistening with my saliva, and I was so hard I was afraid I might cum without even being touched.

“Look at you,” Harry said, his voice low and dangerous. “Cock dripping everywhere, desperate to be touched. But you won’t touch it, will you? Because you’re a good boy who only cums when I give you permission.”

“Yes, Sir. Only when you give me permission, Sir.”

“That’s right.” He stood up, his cock bobbing in front of my face. “Now open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your throat, and you’re going to take it like the good little cock slut you are.”

I opened my mouth obediently, and Harry gripped the back of my head, guiding his cock between my lips. He didn’t start gently—he pushed in deep immediately, hitting the back of my throat and making me gag.

“That’s it. Choke on it. I want to feel your throat squeezing my cock.”

He started thrusting, fucking my mouth with steady, deep strokes. I struggled to breathe through my nose, my eyes watering, saliva dripping down my chin. He was relentless, using my mouth for his pleasure, and I loved every second of it.

“Such a good cock sucker,” he groaned. “Taking it so deep. You love having your throat fucked, don’t you?”

I couldn’t respond with my mouth full, but I moaned around his cock, and he laughed.

“Yeah, you do. Fucking slut.”

He continued for several more minutes, his cock hitting the back of my throat repeatedly, until finally he pulled out, leaving me gasping and drooling.

“Bedroom. Now. On your back.”

I scrambled to my feet and practically ran to the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and positioning myself on my back, my legs spread, completely exposed and vulnerable.

Harry followed more slowly, taking his time, letting the anticipation build. When he entered the bedroom, he was carrying his trainers and both socks.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. “And while I do, you’re going to smell these.” He held up the trainers. “And taste these.” He held up the socks.

My cock twitched violently at the thought.

“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs. He spat into his hand—we still weren’t using lube, the slight pain part of the experience—and slicked up his cock. Then he lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders, and positioned himself at my entrance.

“Beg for it,” he commanded.

“Please fuck me, Sir. Please use my arse. I need your cock inside me. Please, Sir.”

He pushed in slowly, and I gasped at the stretch, the burn. Even after yesterday, it was still intense, still overwhelming. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated inside me, his hips pressed against my arse.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. “Such a perfect little fuck hole.”

Then he started moving, long, deep strokes that had me gasping and moaning. He picked up one of his trainers and pressed it against my face, covering my nose and mouth.

“Breathe,” he ordered.

I inhaled deeply, the stench of the trainer filling my lungs—that concentrated smell of sweat and cum and pure masculine filth. It was overwhelming, making my head spin, and my cock throbbed against my stomach.

“That’s it. Breathe in how disgusting I am. Breathe in the smell of my rank trainers while I fuck your arse.”

He was pounding into me now, hard and fast, the trainer still pressed against my face. I was drowning in sensation—the stretch and burn of his cock, the overwhelming smell, the degradation of it all.

Then he pulled the trainer away and shoved one of the socks into my mouth.

“Suck on it,” he commanded. “Taste how rank it is.”

I sucked obediently, the fabric soaked with eleven days of foot sweat flooding my mouth with that sour, salty taste. I could feel the texture of the worn fabric against my tongue, could taste every layer of accumulated grime.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Harry groaned, his rhythm becoming more erratic. “Sucking on my filthy sock while I destroy your arse. Such a perfect little slut. My perfect little slut.”

He was hitting my prostate with every thrust now, and I could feel my orgasm building, that familiar tension coiling in my lower abdomen. My cock was leaking steadily, creating a puddle on my stomach.

“You’re going to cum for me,” Harry said, his voice strained. “You’re going to cum just from my cock and the taste of my sock. No touching. Just my cock in your arse and my sock in your mouth.”

I moaned around the fabric, my body trembling, so close to the edge.

“That’s it. Cum for me, Luke. Show me what a good boy you are. Cum while you’re sucking on my disgusting sock.”

And I did. My orgasm hit me like a freight train, my cock jerking violently as I came all over my stomach and chest, rope after rope of cum painting my skin. I was moaning and gasping around the sock, my arse clenching rhythmically around Harry’s cock.

“Fuck, yes,” Harry groaned, and I felt him swell inside me. “I’m going to fill your arse. Going to pump you full of my cum.”

He thrust deep one final time and held there, and I felt the warmth of his release flooding my insides, felt his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into me.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us trembling and gasping, connected in the most intimate way possible. Then slowly, Harry pulled out, and I felt his cum start to leak out of my well-used hole.

He pulled the sock from my mouth and tossed it aside, then leaned down, his tongue dragging through the cum on my stomach. He licked me clean, gathering every drop, then kissed me deeply, sharing the taste of my own release.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, covered in sweat and cum and thoroughly satisfied.

“Fuck,” Harry said, collapsing beside me. “That was even better than yesterday.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice hoarse. “It really was.”

He pulled me against him, and I settled into his embrace, not caring about the mess, just wanting to be close to him.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, echoing my question from the day before.

I laughed weakly. “If I can still walk.”

“That’s my boy,” Harry said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “My perfect, filthy boy.”

And as I drifted off, exhausted and satisfied and thoroughly debauched, I thought once again that there was nowhere else I’d rather be than right here, in his arms, covered in the evidence of our depravity.

It was three years ago this month when I met Daddy Jerry on a random night at the bar. We acknowledged my submissive tendencies and his dominance. Within a week of that meeting we met at his place where I learned exactly what a devil’s tale whip could do. I couldn’t sit down for a few days afterwards and Daddy Jerry left me with a gaping butt hole after a good fisting.

We’d texted a few times after that and just never found an available time to meet. After that, life just happened and we gave up.

Three years later, I was at the very same bar where I’d met Daddy Jerry and within thirty minutes of my arrival, he walked in with a buddy. I had to look twice, he’d lost some weight in the three years and he looked taller and more confident in his black leather jacket. His beard looked trimmed, his jaw more square. His buddy was a Black man, grey beard, also 6’3”, looked pretty buff himself in a black leather jacket, a chest harness underneath. They both wore black leather Garrison caps.

They walked up to the bar and ordered a couple of beers. For some reason I became very nervous seeing Daddy Jerry there and I felt my body tremble and I began to sweat. I was there all alone sipping a rum & Coke.

I kind of hoped Daddy Jerry wouldn’t notice me as I was sitting at the corner and wasn’t very visible from where he and his buddy were sitting.

It appeared they were engrossed in conversation and then Daddy Jerry got up and walked towards the men’s room. That’s when I was spotted.

“Well I’ll be damned, how’s it goin’, boy? What’s it been now two, three years?”

“Three I think, Daddy. It’s going ok, I guess.”

“It’s great to see you, boy. You here alone tonight?”

“Yes Daddy”

“You still being a good boy?”

“Yes Daddy”

“I was just about to take a leak…if you wanted to drink straight from the tap?”

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t expecting that, Daddy?”

“Oh, but a good boy like you, I’m sure you’d do anything I ask if I remember correctly.”

“Yes Daddy”, I said bashfully.

“So why are you still sitting on that stool? Do you want Daddy to punish you?”

“No Daddy”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a minute. I remember how you took that devil’s tail so well. Now follow me, and if you are a good boy, I’ll introduce you to my fiancé. I bet he’d have a good time with you, boy.”

Daddy Jerry tapped his foot impatiently and I pried myself off the stool and he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me into the toilets.

There were three urinals on the wall. The one furthest was in use, Daddy Jerry pushed me between the available ones and pointed to the gross tile floor.

I knew what he wanted, I kneeled and watched Daddy Jerry fish his big stick from his jeans. It was nearly as thick as a beer can and just as long. I opened my mouth and Daddy placed the head of his cock into my mouth, and then an inch or so more. I wrapped my lips around it and Daddy started to fill my throat with the most acrid, putrid fluid I’d ever tasted. Sensing I was either going to gag or pull off, Daddy Jerry pushed my head down further and held the back of my head firmly.

“It’s either going down your throat or all over you, boy! Take a pick!”

I did my best to swallow as much as I could with some dripping down my chin and the sides of my cheeks, but overall, I was pretty successful. It was a heavy flow that left such a bitter aftertaste I couldn’t wait to drink some water or my cocktail to get rid of it.

“I knew you’d be a good boy. I promised you a reward. Get up., boy.”

I followed him like a puppy out of the toilets and back to the bar. At least he let me pick up my drink along the way.

“Boy, this is my fiancé. You can call him MasterJerrell.”

“Hello Master Jerrell”, I said timidly.

“I met this boy here three years ago and introduced him to my devil’s tail, didn’t I, boy?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Tell Master Jerrell what you just did for me, boy.”

“I drank your piss, Daddy”

“No, tell Master Jerrell, not me. I know exactly what you did, boy”

“I drank Daddy Jerry’s piss, Master

Jerrell.”

“And did you enjoy it, boy?”, Master Jerrell asked.

“No, I mean yes, Sir.”

“Which one is it? Yes or no? And I’m not your Sir, never call me that, understand, boy?”

“I enjoyed it, Master Jerrell. Yes, understood.”, I wasn’t being honest.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, but I just met you so I’ll let it go, boy.”

“So you came here all alone, boy? Were you hoping I’d show up?”, Daddy Jerry asked.

“No Daddy, I was just out is all.”

“Before you left to come here, did you clean your boyhole out?”, he asked.

“Yes Daddy”

“So you were hoping to find someone to take your ass tonight, boy?”

“Yes Daddy”

“Finally, the boy is being honest”, Master Jerrell said.

“Boy, why don’t you tell Master Jerrell what I did to you when we played together?”

Daddy Jerry was deliberately humiliating me. I was turning crimson I was so embarrassed. My caged cock was yearning to brick. Blunted, my groin ached.

“Daddy, please, no.”

“Oh, come on boy. Don’t be bashful. Master Jerrell loves a good story. Don’t you want to please him, boy?”

“Yes Daddy”

“So take a sip of your drink, and do as I say.”

“Yes Daddy”

“Good boy”

“Daddy Jerry locked me into a stockade. I was blindfolded and my nipples were clamped. Daddy Jerry whipped me so many times and so hard with the devil’s tale, I couldn’t sit for days.”

“You’re leaving out some of the details. I know you didn’t forget them, boy.”

“Daddy Jerry inserted the devil’s tail handle inside my butt hole and fucked me with it. Then Daddy fisted me.”

“Fisted you, that’s great!”, Master Jerrell said excitedly.

“You left out something that I do recall, boy. Remember how I whipped your balls? You were screaming. It was delightful hearing you beg me for mercy!”

“I remember, Daddy. It did hurt a lot.”

“But you took it like a champ. All of it. You made me so proud, boy. Jerrell, this boy can take a good whipping, I have to give him credit. I didn’t go easy on him.”

“I’ve seen you in action, Jerry. I know what you’re capable of. Definitely not for beginners.”

“No, it was a good time. I’m just sorry I never got another chance to play with this boy again.”

“Well, maybe tonight’s the night then, Jerry. The boy doesn’t look like he’s got anything to do, do you, boy? And you did clean out your cunt for some action, didn’t you, boy?”

I took a huge gulp before I answered because I knew whatever I said next was pivotal.

“No Master, I have no plans, and yes, I was looking to find someone to hook up with.”

“Well, now you do have plans, boy. I think you’re coming home with us. Between the two of us, there’s plenty of dick just for you, and even more if you’re a good boy.”, Master Jerrell offered.

“Yes Master, yes Daddy.”

“Do you mind Jerry? I gotta piss from drinking all this beer.”

“Why would I mind? The boy likes being a piss bucket, don’t you, boy?”

I hesitated, because although I have dabbled in piss play, I don’t love it.

“Don’t you boy?”, he asked more firmly.

“Yes Daddy.”

“Yes Daddy what? And don’t tell me, tell Master Jerrell.

“I love being a piss bucket, Master Jerrell.”

“Well that’s good. Then show me, boy.”

I followed Master Jerrell to the toilets again.

“Where did Jerry have you earlier, boy?”

“Over there, Master James”, I said pointing to the spot.

“I can tell, there’s some piss on the floor. Did you miss some?”

“Yes Master Jerrell. It was a lot.”

“Let’s see if you can do better this time, boy. On your knees!”

When Master Jerrell pulled his huge cock from his pants I nearly passed out. It was a good seven inches soft! Thick as a baseball bat!

I had to open my jaw so wide I thought it would dislocate, just to take in the head and two inches!

Master Jerrell wasn’t playing. He pushed me over the urinal, my head horizontal to the urinal cake and he started to drown me. It was absolutely disgusting. His piss tasted like poison it was so bitter and so strong. When I started to spit it out, Master Jerrell desecrated  my face covering me in his string scented piss.

“Open your mouth you filthy pig!”, he yelled.

I did as I was told and more urine made its way down my throat, burning my insides along the way. After he’d shaken his cock over my face, Master Jerrell pushed my face into the urinal cake and flushed. I was soaked.

“Come on, boy. Next time you’ll try harder, won’t you?”

“Yes Master”, I said sheepishly. My face and my hair were dripping.

“What happened, Jerrell?”

“The boy spit it out. I had to teach him a lesson, didn’t I?”

“Yes, of course.”, Daddy said.

“I thought you said this boy was obedient, Jerry. Should we even waste our time?”

“I am definitely disappointed, but I am sure he’ll make it up to, won’t you, boy?”, Daddy asked.

“Yes Daddy”, I said through clenched teeth looking like a horror show and probably smelling like one, too. Everyone was looking at me, it was so degrading, but yet I relished the attention.

Master Jerrell put some cash down on the bar.

“The boy better be worth my time, Jerry. Last time we took one of your boys home it didn’t go well.”

“I’m telling you, this one is different. You can really fuck him up, I promise.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Let’s go boy. Let’s see if you’re even worth my time!”

I walked between Master Jerrell and Daddy Jerry. I think Daddy wanted to be sure I didn’t get away.

“Dry your face, boy. I don’t want you dripping all over my seats.”, Master Jerrell said.

I looked confused. What was I to dry my face with?

“Use your shirt, boy! Take off your shirt and dry off your face. Jerry, you didn’t tell me the boy was dumb. You left that part out!”

“Jerrell, I’m telling you man, you’re gonna love whipping this boy. I know it.”

I pulled my shirt over my head and used it to wipe all of the moisture off my face and my hair. It smelled pretty bad.

We drove 15 minutes or so to their place. It wasn’t where we played before.

“Jerrell  and I moved here a couple of months ago”, Master Jerry said.

“Wait until you see our dungeon, you’re going to love it.”

I found myself so confused. On one hand I was so excited and in the other I was very scared and nervous, I hadn’t set out for this when I left my apartment. I thought I’d get a vanilla hook up, a pump-n-dump, nothing more.

When we pulled in to the garage and parked, I stepped out of the car.

“Everything off”, Master Jerrell barked. “Only real men wear clothes in this house!”

First I pulled off my shoes and socks, then my jeans. I wore a royal blue Gym jock with a two inch waistband, very classic, it was tight enough to display the ridges and curves of my Cobra cage underneath.

“Jerry, you didn’t tell me the boy was locked. How intriguing!”

“He wasn’t when I met him, Jerrell. Who holds the key, boy, or are you self-locked?”

“No, a fuck buddy of mine has the key, Daddy.”, I whispered due to dry mouth.

“Say what? Speak up boy!”, Master Jerrell yelled.

“A fuck buddy of mine holds the key, Daddy and Master!”

“How long have you been locked up, boy?”

“Thirteen months, Daddy!”

“Holy shit, Jerry. That takes some real discipline and obedience. Maybe this boy will redeem himself after all. Not much of a piss bucket, but has potential. Let’s get inside, I’m feeling like I need to try this boy on for size.” Master Jerrell said miscieviously.

I followed the two men downstairs and was amazed by the space. A large room completely fitted out with a sling, fuck bench, the stockade I’d been in before, a St. Andrew’s cross secured to a wall. It even looked like there were hooks on the ceiling and in the cement floor. There was a large steel cage in one corner and shelves of toys and lubes, hooks filled with whips, paddles, straps…whatever you could think of, they had it in multitudes.

I was really wide eyed looking at all of this and once again my body started to shake. I was cold, too.

Daddy Jerry was next to me and wrapped me in his arms.

“It’s ok boy, we won’t let anything happen to you. We’re just going to have some fun. You want to make us happy don’t you, boy?”

“Yes Daddy”

“I know you do. I know you like to have fun, too. I remember it quite well. How about we get you warmed up, boy. Would you like that?”

“Yes Daddy”

“Good boy.”

I felt a little better after Daddy Jerry reassured me.

“Hey Jerry, quit coddling the boy. It’s time to get things going down here. How about we hang him upside down?”

“Jerrell, there’s plenty of time for that. Let’s do something a little less ambitious first. Bring me the spreader.”

Master Jerrell brought a black iron ankle spreader over and Daddy Jerry secured me to it, at the same time had zip tied the spreader bar to the eye hooks that were secured into the floor. My feet were flush to the ground, my legs spread open fairly wide and unable to move not even a centimeter.

Master Jerrell turned a switch on the wall and a bar was lowered a few inches.

Daddy Jerry took each of my wrists and handcuffed them to one hook that hung over my head. My pits smelled rank from nervousness.

Daddy Jerry put his nose to one of them.

“Jerrell, come over here and take a whiff. This boy smells like fear.”

Master Jerrell and Daddy Jerry were each sniffing into my exposed and stretched pits, and then they started to tickle me. I was trying to stifle my giggles and I hated that I was unable to move very much.

“I think this boy is ready, Jerry. Can I go first?”

“Be my guest. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking the flogger. That should warm him up before we go harder.”

“Yes, good idea.”

Daddy Jerry brought a heavy duty mean looking flogger over to Master Jerrell who removed his leather jacket and was now wearing only the harness. He was definitely more cut and defined than I expected, and his chest was covered in thick white curly hairs.

His face had the most sinister look I’d ever seen.

Master Jerrell stood next to me, his hand caressed my chest, my thighs, then my back and my butt.

“Yes, yes…this is perfect. This creamy white boy is going to be colored red by the time I’m done with him, Jerry.”

Then he unexpectedly kissed me full on the lips before taking a few steps back, straight and to my left. He whipped the flogger around with his wrist, I could hear it whirling through the air before it struck me right across the chest.

“Owwww”, I yelped.

That didn’t seem to phase Master Jerrell.

He cut across my abdomen with five successive blows one after the other, the fifth with great emphasis.

That woke me up and I yowled.

“This won’t do, Jerry. Get the ball gag!”

Daddy Jerry secured a ball gag between my jaw and it was tight.

Before starting up again, Master Jerrell fastened clothespins on my balls and then all over my torso, including my nipples. They were biting into my skin as they were metallic, not wooden.

Now satisfied, MasterJerrell went for my upper back and the backs of my thighs before wailing on my ass.

“Put your hips back boy, show me that white ass!”

Master Jerrell went apeshit on it. I couldn’t jump forward, but I sure did try.

“Grab a flogger, Jerry, you get the back and I’ll get his front.”

The two men found a rhythm and took those floggers to me like masters of their craft.  There was no reprieve, my hide was stinging fiercely.

At one point I closed my eyes and took deep meditative breaths. The transformation was gradual, the fine line from pain to pleasure, and once I’d crossed over, I felt like I was levitating, each blow brought a level of euphoria I hadn’t experienced in many months.

I wanted more, but I was gagged so I couldn’t exactly ask for it. As much as I could do I stuck my ass out and my chest, too, accepting what I was given so willingly.

I don’t know how much time passed when the beating stopped. Master Jerrell had cracked the clothes pins off of my body long ago, as each one tore off, it felt like an inferno rising in my soul. The remaining clothespins were still gangling from the skin of my scrotum.

They both roamed their hands all over my body.

“You want to do the honors or shall I, Jerry?”

“Be my guest.”

One by one Master Jerrell removed each of this clothes pins from my balls and they ached so beautifully.

When Daddy Jerry removed the cuffs from my wrists, Master Jerrell caught me.

“You did well, boy”, he said.

Daddy Jerry took the ankle spreader off.

“You ok, boy?”, he asked while I shook my legs back to life.

“Mmm hmmm”, I said through the gag.

I was still feeling the rush, the endorphins flying through my veins. It felt like I was on speed.

“Want more boy?”, Master Jerrell asked hopefully.

“Mmm hmm”, I mumbled.

“Excellent! Jerry let’s try the cross. You get him settled and I’ll get the whip.”

Daddy had me face the wall, my already pink bottom and back we’re going to be striped by the time this was over.

Master Jerrell cracked the whip on the cement floor a few times to intimidate me, and it almost worked. I’d somehow put myself into a very calm hypnotic trance. I was ready for it.

And it came. The hard sting right across my upper back. I barely flinched, and it cut into my flesh. I grunted almost like I was getting my ass fucked.

“I told you, Jerrell, the boy can take it. Go harder.”

This time I heard Jerrell grunt, putting his full body into it as it cracked across my ass, two, three, four times in a row. Each one landing right across my globes. The searing burn was fantastic.

I stuck my ass out for Master Jerrell.

“Ohhh you see this, Jerry? This boy is eager for it. You want more do you, boy?”

“Pllleeathe!” I mumbled through the gag.

“Fuck Jerry! Where’d you find this boy?”

This time Master Jerrell went for the backs of my thighs and ankles. I leaned into it, shaking my ass, I wanted more on my ass!

Master Jerrell made my butt sing with absolute venom I could feel myself being reborn, coming alive, every nerve ending in my body was in sensory overload.

More blows, and then I was turned around for some torso and front thigh work. Each stinging blow made me edge closer and closer to orgasm. I felt like I was either going to jizz or cry.

Just when I was there, on the brink of something, it stopped.

But Daddy Jerry saw what was happening, the way my body had reacted, and knew I needed just something more to take me to rapture. He began to beat my balls with a leather strap, harder and harder until my entire body convulsed and cum dribbled right down my cage into my jock. I was shaking and when it was over I went limp and it it wasn’t for the shackles I would have fallen. I’d gone limp and started to sob uncontrollably.

Daddy Jerry dropped the strap and removed the gag, and the shackles and hugged me. My entire body was on fire. I’d taken a hard whipping. Broken skin on my chest and my abs, my thighs, I was sure my butt and back were even worse.

Daddy and Jerrell were great at providing me with physical and emotional aftercare and ensuring I was ok.

Once they were certain I was strong enough to continue on, they asked if I was up for some butt play.

“Yes”, I said rather quickly.

“Good boy”, Daddy Jerry said.

“How about we get you in the sling?”, Master Jerrell offered.

He carried me like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and the two men made me comfortable in the sling and placed my wrists and ankles in the stirrups. I wasn’t going to admit it, but lying back in that sling did nothing to soothe the wounds on my back, but I was too hyped up to care about that in the moment.

“You want to open him up for me Jerry?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

Master Jerrell stood behind me and had me sniff some poppers while Daddy Jerry put his hard beer can cock in my ass. Damn, I’d forgotten how thick that fuck stick was, and I was dilating quickly from the chemicals.

Daddy Jerry went slow at first, but Master Jerrell pushed the sling forward and I was soon plunging down over it, swinging wildly as it plugged and unplugged me, I was very loose in no time.

“My turn”, Master Jerrell insisted.

The two men switched places. Now Daddy was feeding me a steady stream of the brown bottle while that wrist-thick dick was dicking my poor hole. It felt as long as a flag pole and as thick as a tennis ball can. I was losing my shit, my hole was being annihilated.

After taking turns fucking my ass, neither of them came just yet. They had stripped my cum soaked jock off of me before getting me in the sling. I could see more clear fluid continuously dripping down the side of my cage.

“You smoke weed, boy?”

“Yes Daddy”

“You want some before we fist you?”

“Yes Daddy”

Daddy Jerry walked away while Master Jerrell played in my hole with some lubed up fingers.

“I can’t wait to open up this cunt boy!”, he said.

Daddy Jerry returned with a lit joint. Given my hands were tied, he placed the joint between my lips. Between the three of us, we each took three tokes. In just a few minutes, with the added poppers, my hole was loosening up. My head was spinning out and there was a hunger building in my cunt.

Master Jerry put the bottle of x-lube inside my butthole and squeezed, then coated both his hands with it.

“Please”, I begged.

I wanted it. I needed a fist.

Master Jerrell corkscrewed his duckbilled fingers inside me, twisting slowly back and forth, easing my hole open. I somehow managed to push my legs back more, inviting Master to go further. And with a third hit of poppers and a last hit off the joint, the fist was inside me wrist deep.

Daddy held my feet back, exposing my gaping pucker.

“Oh yeah. Look at that. His cunt swallowed your fist, Jerrell.”

Master slowly turned his wrist from side to side, working the perimeter of my chute open, corkscrewing his  was into me, opening me wider and little deeper, worming his way through.

I was loving it. Noises escaped me in high octaves and I saw clouds of color and light under my eyelids. It was marvelous.

And when Master began to slowly punch my pussy lips out, i started to piss a little bit.

“Look at him squirting, Jerry!”

“Fuck, he loves it. Let me get in there, too!”

Daddy Jerry lubed up his left hand and pried some fingers along side Master Jerrell’s. They worked as a team, slowly prying my ditch open wider, until Daddy’s thumb tucked inside and I now had taken both men’s fists. Daddy Jerry added more lube and slowly pushed the sling up and back, each time I felt my cunt lips open wider and swell more.

Master Jerrell undid the wrist cuffs so I could popper up on my own. Once I did, I felt my cunt loosen even more as it ravenously took double barrel punches. I had an out of body climax, my entire body shook as more semen seeped down my cage.

Daddy Jerry pulled his hand out and it was replaced by Master Jerrell’s hard cock. Master stroked his cock off inside my wrecked pussy, flooding it was his ball juice.

Daddy Jerry followed. My cunt was made into a sloppy pig trough.

The two men were exhausted, as was I.

It was now almost 2 am. We’d been at it for nearly four hours.

“Boy, you need to go home now?”, Daddy Jerry asked.

“No, but I don’t mind calling a Lyft.”

“No, you will stay with us tonight. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone. We put you through it tonight, didn’t we Jerrell?”

“Fuck yeah. Boy, I gotta give it to you. I really thought Jerry was full of shit, but you did better than most.”

“How about we all take a quick shower and get some sleep”, Daddy Jerry said like a true daddy.

“Yes Daddy.”

One by one we took showers. I especially made sure to clean out my cunt cave as it truly was a pigsty back there.

Daddy Jerry had me sleep between them on their king bed and he cuddled me.

“Good night, boy.”, he said as he stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

---

To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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Chapter One: The Space Between Plans

Colt stared at his phone long after the call ended, thumb hovering uselessly over the dark screen.

He already knew what it meant. He just needed a second to accept it.

Two weeks off work—finally approved after months of careful scheduling, traded shifts, and polite persistence—and now the trip itself had slipped sideways. His friend hadn’t sounded dramatic or apologetic, just tired in that bone-deep way Colt recognized instantly.

“Emergency coverage,” he’d said. “I tried everything. I can’t get out of it.”

Colt believed him. That was the problem.

Germany had been the plan for over a year. Guidebooks with folded corners. A shared note full of places they swore they’d see. Jokes about getting lost on purpose. Now Colt sat alone on the edge of his couch, suitcase half-packed, the quiet of his apartment pressing in.

He was good at being dependable. At staying put. At choosing what made sense.

Going alone didn’t make sense.

He made tea, mostly to have something to do with his hands, and stood by the window watching the afternoon light stretch across the street below. His first instinct was to cancel—to reclaim the vacation days, apologize to himself, and tuck the dream back where it had been safe.

But another thought followed, quieter and more persistent.

When will you do this again?

Colt had spent years taking care of other people—patients, coworkers, friends. He liked structure. Liked knowing what was expected. But this was his time. His name was on the ticket. His passport sat ready on the counter like it was waiting to see what he’d choose.

By the time his tea went cold, Colt had zipped the suitcase the rest of the way shut.

---

Chapter Two: Leaving the Ground

The airport was louder than Colt expected at that hour, full of rolling suitcases and overlapping announcements. He moved through it carefully, checking signs twice, instinctively polite even when no one was in his way.

First class still felt like a mistake—an indulgence he’d talked himself into months ago for the long flight. Now he hovered for half a second before stepping down the aisle, self-conscious in the wide seat and quiet cabin.

“You’re in the right place.”

The voice came from beside him.

Colt looked up to find the man in the window seat already smiling—easy, relaxed, like airports were something he collected rather than endured.

“Oh—thanks,” Colt said, flushing faintly as he stowed his bag. “Still feels unreal.”

“First time?” the man asked.

“First time alone,” Colt admitted before he could overthink it.

The stranger’s expression softened. “That counts.”

They talked in the gentle, unforced way that only happens on planes—where names felt optional and time stretched comfortably. The man asked questions, listened closely, teased lightly when Colt downplayed himself. Colt surprised himself by answering honestly, laughing more than he’d expected.

When the cabin lights dimmed, their conversation faded naturally, but the warmth of it lingered. As they landed, the stranger wished him a good trip, sincere enough that Colt believed it.

It felt like a small victory.

Customs passed in a blur—questions, stamps, the unfamiliar rhythm of another language humming around him.

He’d been awake for most of the flight and was definitely feeling the weight of the jetlag, but he was determined to push through. His luggage came quickly, and he wheeled it out toward the designated pick-up area. The signs were all in German, but Colt felt surprisingly at ease. The airport was busy, but he felt like he could handle this.

He stepped outside and found his ride—a small black car waiting by the curb with a driver holding a sign with his name. The driver, a tall man in his mid-thirties with a scruffy beard and dark hair, greeted him with a warm but somewhat reserved smile. His English was broken, but Colt could tell he was trying.

“Welcome,” the driver said in a thick accent. “You, Colt?”

“Yep, that’s me,” Colt replied, smiling back as he loaded his suitcase into the trunk.

The drive through the city was surprisingly quiet, with the driver’s sporadic English attempts filling the silence. A few blocks in, the driver pointed toward a street corner. “You… there… good bar. Red… um… beer…” He stumbled over a word that Colt didn’t quite catch. “Red… uh… good place.”

Colt tried to make out what he was saying, but the driver’s broken English made it hard. “You mean a place called ‘Red’?” Colt asked, but the driver didn’t seem to understand. He just nodded enthusiastically.

“Good bar,” he repeated, looking at Colt through the rearview mirror. “You check.”

Colt nodded, unsure of what exactly he was being told, but appreciating the recommendation nonetheless. “Thanks,” he said as the driver pulled up in front of his hotel.

The man gave a small wave as Colt got out, and for a moment, Colt just stood there, watching the driver pull away. There was something about the guy—maybe it was the way he carried himself, or the fact that he looked like he belonged in a movie—but Colt couldn’t shake the feeling that the evening was starting to take a very interesting turn.

---

Colt checked into the hotel with minimal fuss, the receptionist offering a warm but professional smile as she handed him his key. The elevator ride was quiet, the motion of the car and the low hum of the motor lulling Colt into a state of exhaustion. By the time he reached the eighth floor, he was ready to collapse into bed, but he knew he couldn’t do that yet.

His room was small, but charming, with a view of the city lights twinkling in the distance. He unpacked quickly, setting his clothes in the closet and putting his toiletries in the bathroom. After a much-needed shower, Colt sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the night with the thin white towel wrapped around his waist.

It was already 9 p.m. The jetlag hit harder than he’d expected, but he was starving. The idea of stepping out into a foreign city, alone, after such a long day of travel, felt like a big ask. But he was in Germany. Alone. He had to make the most of it.

He grabbed his phone, quickly searching for a place nearby for dinner. He knew he couldn’t stay in his room all night. It was time to take another step outside his comfort zone. He dug into the Google app on his phone as he distractedly walked around his room and then eventually out the large glass doors to the dark balcony.

While looking at his phone Colt stood at the edge of the balcony, letting the cool night air brush over his damp skin. His nipples hardened from the cool breeze. The towel felt like little protection against the chill as it slid lower on his hips, but the sharpness of the breeze was grounding, reminding him that he was no longer in his familiar routine. He wasn’t in his quiet apartment in the city, or on his usual path to work. This was something new—something untethered.

He glanced around, noting the dimly lit hallway of the hotel behind him, and the soft hum of distant city sounds below. The buildings around him were old, their shapes softened by the night. The streetlights gave the scene a kind of surreal glow—everything seemed just slightly out of focus, as though the world hadn’t quite settled into place yet.

His gaze shifted along the length of the balcony. It stretched far beyond his own room, disappearing into the dark, with doors leading into other rooms he would never visit. A few feet to his left two deep voices drew his attention, another set of glass doors led into another hotel room, its curtains drawn but the light within barely noticeable through a small crack in the curtains that showed the bed and the light from the TV flickering. To the right, the darkened patio disappeared around the corner of the old building, where shadows seemed to creep like a slow-moving tide. He looked back to the crack in the curtains as he saw a tall muscled and shirtless, dark haired man move past and sit on the bed inside. The dark balcony hid Colt in the shadows. He watched the handsome man talk to someone just out of view. The voyeuristic nature of the moment made his dick start to swell. A moment later another well muscled man moved past the break in the curtains and it took Colt’s breath away for a moment. The man was totally nude as walked over and knelt before the man sitting on the bed. It was clear where things were headed as the kneeling man went to work on the other man’s zipper as he stood and then pushed his jeans to his knees before sitting on the bed again. The kneeling man leaned forward as his head began to bob slowly up and down. Colt’s dick jumped as it swelled and the thin towel around his waist popped loose and fell to his feet before he could catch it.

Colt’s heart was pounding as he reached down to snatch up the towel, quickly looking around to see if he’d been caught spying on the other men. The night still had him wrapped in dark and with a burst of bravery he looked back to the room to see the man sitting on the bed, his hands now holding the kneeling man’s head as he guided it up an down on his dick. Colt nervously glanced around again. Looked back a the scene playing out next door. With a nervous hesitation he draped  the towel over the balcony railing and then laid his phone on the towel as well. He now stood fully naked on the balcony and turned to watch the scene unfold. The kneeling man’s head was bobbing faster now as the man on the bed dripped his head and set the pace. Colt mindlessly wrapped his now free hand around his throbbing cock and with his other free hand he started playing with his nipple as he watched. He was horny and jet lagged and it gave him the boldness to step closer to the door for a better view. The wind was picking up and the cool breeze over his bare body tightened his nipples to hard buds. He was now stroking his dick without hesitation as he watched the man seated on the bed stand and start to fuck the kneel man’s mouth with vigor. The next blast of wind across the balcony drove Colt closer to the edge of orgasm. He was feeling the excitement of being in a foreign city, on a public balcony, totally naked, hard, jerking his dick as we watched a real life porno take place just a few feet away. He watched as the now standing man used one foot then the other to step out of his jeans as he continued to fuck the other man’s mouth. The huge man then guided the kneeling man to stand and then both men moved toward the patio door. Colt panicked and turned to run back to the safety of his room. He remembered his towel and lunged for the railing to snatch his towel, just before he stumbled and fell forward. He barely caught himself on the railing but in the panic he ended up knocking the towel over the edge. A fraction of second later he remembered his phone before he heard the distinct small smashing sound as it hit the sidewalk below. He looked over the edge, down eight floors as his towel fluttered to landing on the sidewalk. The sound of a deep voice and the old patio door opening behind himself sent him into motion again. The idea of getting caught naked and hard on the patio caught in his throat and without thinking things through he dashed past his own patio door an instead headed to the dark end of the balcony that disappeared around the corner. 

As he turned the corner he could see the balcony continued down the other side of the building with more rooms and well lit patio doors beyond. He froze just around the corner. He couldn’t move forward and he couldn’t go back so he froze with his back to the cold brick wall.

He glanced down to his still hard and throbbing cock standing before him. He thought about his phone now smashed to pieces in front of the small hotel. He summoned the courage to peek back around the corner and his breath once again caught in his throat. The two men now stood on the balcony. The kneeling man now facing the street holding on to the patio railing and the other man standing behind him. One hand gripping his shoulder and the other gripping the man’s opposite hip as he fucked him slow and deep. The man holding the railing made no attempt to hide his grunts of pleasure as the wind carried them to Colt’s end of the balcony. Without a thought he gripped his dick again and began to stroke as he watched the two men. 

Colt was getting close again as he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Without slowing his stroking, he turned his head to look across the street. A group of three men stood in a well designed brightly lit condo just across the street and one floor above. They were smiling wide smiles, drinks in hand as they waved to Colt. Two of the guys pretended to be the guys fucking and the other pretended to be Colt as he mimicked jerking his dick in dramatic fashion. Colt was mortified. He had been busted spying. Even worse – he had nowhere to go. He was forced to stay right where he was. As the guys continued to tease him and point. What were they pointing at, Colt looked back the other direction around the corner and could see the two men were reaching a crescendo. The grunts were louder and the sounds of skin slapping skin were intoxicating. A final thrust and Colt watched the man bury himself balls deep and convulse as he gripped both of the other mans’ shoulders from behind. Colt wanted badly to finish himself off, but a glance back to the guys across the street and he could see them waving and pointing. Colt glanced the other direction as a new man stepped out onto the balcony  a few doors down. The guy was staring across the street and had seen the motion of the men waving and pointing, but he had yet to turn and see Colt. 

Colt panicked again and slipped back around the corner. The naked men were now both standing, leaning on the rail as they looked down to the street, bathing in the afterglow. Colt’s heart was in his throat as he moved slowly along the wall toward his room as quietly as possible. If either man turned at this moment he would be caught in the act. Naked, boner bouncing free as he slipped toward his patio door. A few more steps and he would be safe. He glanced back to the men across the street in the condo and they were still waving and pointing. Colt was afraid the new man was going to turn the corner at any moment. So he forced himself closer to the two naked men. Three feet to go. Thankfully he had left his patio door open and was able to slip inside without making a noise. He was quietly closing the door when one of the men turned and made eye contact. His dick was still at half mast and he took in the sight of Colt with a raging boner. Colt froze for a moment as the guy smiled and then Colt snatched the curtains closed over the door. HE stood there for a few minutes panting for air before he turned his attention back to the quiet street below, his mind pulling him back to his phone far below. He rushed to get dressed, grabbed his hotel room key card and dashed to the elevator. Sure enough his phone was obliterated. As he stood in the street a bit numb, he was surprised to have his mind flash to the words of the driver. “Red… something…”

To be continued…

The next morning brought another round of cage torture for Lukas. His Master took great delight in teasing and tormenting him, in forcing him to feel and want without giving him release.

He added weights to Lukas’s cage, forcing him to wear them as he went about his chores around the apartment. He made Lukas do physically demanding things, all while wearing the cage, and he made him keep it on all day despite his begging to be allowed to take it off.

He also added a vibrator to Lukas’s torment. He turned it on whenever the mood struck him, forcing waves of pleasure to wash over Lukas without any hope of release.

Several times throughout the day, he took Lukas to the edge of orgasm, only to stop before he could go over. Each time was more deliciously tormenting than the last, and Lukas found himself eager to feel that torment again and again.

In addition to the cage torture, there were also more beatings. His Master took great pleasure in beating him at a moment’s notice, forcing Lukas to drop whatever he was doing and get into position to receive his punishment.

And, of course, there was plenty of verbal torment to go along with everything else. His Master never tired of calling him names and putting him in his place, and he seemed to take great delight in Lukas’s humiliation.

That night, as had become their habit by now, they went to the living room to watch television. Lukas, naked and eager to please, sat at his Master’s feet as Kent channel surfed, clearly not sure what he was in the mood for.

After a moment, Lukas dared to speak up. He knew it probably wasn’t allowed, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “Is there anything good on, Sir?” he asked, keeping his eyes lowered submissively.

Kent glanced down at him, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Not really,” he said after a moment.

Lukas nodded, unsure of what to say to that. He knew he probably shouldn’t say anything else, but he also wanted to see if there was anything he could do for his Master.

Finally, unable to help himself, he spoke again. “Maybe there’s something on demand?” he suggested, still careful to keep his eyes averted.

Kent chuckled harshly. “Well, well,” he mocked after a moment, apparently amused by Lukas’s daring. “Aren’t we full of bright ideas tonight? Maybe we should see what’s on demand, should we?”

Lukas felt a thrill of excitement at the words and hurried to get to his feet. Moving to the computer, he opened the on-demand menu and prepared to scroll through it.

But before he could do so, Kent stopped him. “What are you doing?” he demanded, apparently not happy with Lukas’s initiative.

Lukas froze, unsure of how to respond. He had only been trying to help, but now he seemed to have gotten himself in trouble.

“I-I was just trying to find something for us to watch, Sir.” He winced at the admission, already guessing how his Master would respond.

But still Kent’s answer came as a surprise. “And who gave you permission to touch my computer, you worthless little worm?” he demanded, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Lukas swallowed hard. He knew he was in trouble now, and he could only imagine what his punishment would be.

“I’m sorry, Master.” He bowed his head submissively, already preparing himself for whatever might be in store for him. He knew better than to make excuses or to try and defend himself. That would only make his Master angrier, and his punishment that much worse.

But still he couldn’t stop himself from speaking up again. “I only wanted to help,” he said, feeling compelled to explain himself despite the consequences.

Kent’s eyes narrowed even further. “I think you’ve forgotten your place,” he growled, clearly not happy with Lukas’s explanation. He stood and moved to tower over his slave, his gaze hard and disapproving. “Perhaps a reminder is in order, hmm? What do you think?”

Lukas gulped and nodded. He knew there was no other choice, and he also knew that he deserved whatever punishment his Master saw fit to dole out.

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered after a moment. “I am sorry for what I did, and I will accept any punishment you see fit to give me.”

Kent chuckled cruelly. “That’s what I like to hear.” His lips curled up in a wicked smile and he reached out to grab Lukas by the hair. Using his grip on Lukas’s hair, he forced him to his knees.

Lukas whimpered but made no attempt to struggle. Instead, he allowed his Master to do as he would with him, eager to accept his punishment in whatever form it might take.

Kent seemed to sense his slave’s acquiescence. He released his grip on Lukas’s hair and moved back to the couch. There, he sat and regarded Lukas silently for a long moment.

Finally, as if coming to some sort of decision, he smirked cruelly. “Get your god,” he ordered after a moment. “And get over here.”

Lukas obeyed at once. Hurrying over to where he had left the belt, he picked it up and then returned to kneel before his Master.

Kent took the belt from him and doubled it over in his hand, apparently thinking. Finally, he nodded to himself and turned his attention back to Lukas.

“Stand up,” he commanded, already raising the belt in his hand. “Ass out, just like the good little whore you are.”

Lukas hurried to obey. Standing, he positioned himself as his Master had ordered, his ass thrust out submissively behind him.

Kent struck him without further warning. The belt landed across the center of Lukas’s ass, the blow making him cry out in pain and arch away from the sudden onslaught.

But Kent wasn’t finished yet. He brought the belt down across Lukas’s upturned bottom again and again, each blow landing with a resounding crack.

With every blow came a stream of insults and curses. Lukas’s Master berated him, calling him names and reminding him of his place as he punished him for his disobedience.

Lukas accepted the beating with as much grace as he could manage. He knew that what he had done was wrong, and he accepted his punishment without complaint.

Finally, apparently satisfied with his work, Kent tossed the belt aside. He moved to stand directly in front of Lukas and gripped his slave’s chin in one hand, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Well?” he mocked after a moment. His lips curved up in a wicked smirk as he regarded Lukas with cruel amusement. “Have you learned your lesson, you disgusting little cockpig?”

Lukas nodded eagerly. He felt his humiliation building inside him and knew that this was far from over. His Master would punish him further for his mistake, and he would accept whatever he had to give.

“Yes, Master.” His voice was hoarse with pain and he winced as he spoke. “Yes, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Kent laughed cruelly, clearly not convinced. “Is that right?” He gripped Lukas’s chin more tightly, forcing him up onto his toes. “And what lesson is that, hmm?”

“I know that I am your worthless slave,” Lukas recited, repeating what he had been taught. “I know that I am here to serve you and only you, and that I will be punished if I disobey.”

“Hmm.” Kent seemed to consider this for a moment. Then, apparently deciding that Lukas hadn’t quite learned his lesson yet, he smirked down at him. “And how will you be punished?” he prompted after a moment.

“I will be punished however you see fit, Master,” Lukas replied, keeping his gaze lowered submissively. “You are my Master and I am your slave, and it is your right to do with me as you will.”

Kent chuckled softly. “That’s right.” He released his grip on Lukas and moved to sit down on the couch once more. There, he regarded his slave thoughtfully for another moment before nodding.

“Very well then.” His lips curved up in another wicked smile as he watched Lukas await his next command. “Since you know your place so well, I think it’s time we reminded you of a few other things, don’t you? Get over here and worship my feet, slave.”

Lukas moved to do as he was told at once. Hurriedly positioning himself on his knees, he bent to press a kiss against first one and then the other of his Master’s feet. He licked and sucked at them, doing his best to clean them as he had been taught.

Kent watched him, clearly enjoying his slave’s humiliation. He smirked down at Lukas, his amusement evident in every line of his face. “That’s it.” He reached down to run a hand through Lukas’s hair much as one would a favored pet. “That’s it. Clean your Master’s feet.”

Lukas whimpered and continued with his task. He felt his arousal continue to build inside him, felt it grow until it was almost more than he could bear. His cock throbbed inside its cage, the feel of the metal against his already sensitive flesh more than he could stand.

Finally, after several long moments, his Master seemed satisfied. He pulled his feet away and regarded Lukas silently for another long moment.

“Now,” he said finally, apparently having come to some sort of decision. “I believe there’s one final lesson we need to teach you, don’t you?” His eyes gleamed wickedly as he watched Lukas shift uncertainly. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.”

Lukas licked his lips nervously, unsure of what was in store for him now. He could still feel the weight of the belt against his skin, and the memory of it was enough to make him tremble with fear and anticipation.

“I’m not sure, Master,” he said after a moment. The words came out breathlessly, and he winced at how obvious his uncertainty was.

But if Kent noticed his slave’s hesitation, he didn’t let on. Instead, he smirked down at Lukas once more. “Get on the couch,” he ordered, already standing and moving to make room for Lukas.

Lukas didn’t dare disobey. Instead, hurriedly scrambling to his feet, he moved to position himself where his Master had said.

He stood beside the couch, not at all sure what to do next. Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, he decided to sit. Lowering himself onto the cushions, he waited to find out what would happen next.

But as soon as he had sat, Kent was on him. He positioned himself behind Lukas, one arm already wrapped around his slave’s throat in a chokehold.

Lukas gasped and struggled against the hold, but it was no use. His Master was much bigger than he was, and much stronger, and he knew better than to try and fight back.

Kent tightened his grip, cutting off Lukas’s air supply. He held him like that for a long moment, clearly savoring Lukas’s struggles.

Finally, just when it seemed he couldn’t take any more, he released his grip and allowed Lukas to breathe once more.

Lukas dragged in a shaky breath and then another. His head spun from lack of oxygen, and his chest heaved as he struggled to regain his composure.

But his Master wasn’t finished with him yet. Instead, as soon as Lukas had more or less regained his breath, he tightened his grip on his slave’s throat once more.

Again and again he repeated the torment, cutting off Lukas’s airflow and then releasing him only to choke him again. By the time he was finished, Lukas felt as though he might pass out at any moment, so great was his need for air.

Finally, apparently satisfied with the lesson, Kent released his slave. He stood back and watched as Lukas collapsed forward onto the couch, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

“Well?” Kent prompted after a moment, clearly amused by his slave’s plight. “Did you learn your lesson?”

Lukas could only nod. He continued to drag in shaky gulps of air, but he knew he needed to respond to his Master’s question.

But before he could find the breath to speak, Kent spoke again. “I asked you a question, slave,” he reminded, clearly displeased by Lukas’s silence. “Answer me. Did you learn your lesson, or do you need another demonstration?”

“No!” The word tore from Lukas’s lips in a ragged cry. “No, Master. I don’t need another lesson.”

“Hmm. Good.” Kent nodded, apparently satisfied for the moment. “Now then, as for your punishment…”

Lukas tensed, already guessing what was in store for him. His Master had punished him in much the same way yesterday, and he didn’t doubt that that would be the case again today.

“Get on your back,” Kent ordered after a moment, already beginning to remove his belt. “Ass at the edge of the couch.”

Lukas hurried to do as he was told. Positioning himself on his back, he felt his cock throb inside its cage at the thought of what was to come. He was almost painfully aroused now, and he dreaded the thought of his Master teasing him without giving him release.

But it was no use. He was at his Master’s mercy now, and there would be no escape. All he could do was accept what his Master chose to give him and hope that it would soon be over.

Kent watched him silently for a moment, then moved to stand beside the couch. There, already doubling his belt over in his hand, he raised it and brought it down across Lukas’s exposed ass.

Lukas cried out and arched beneath the sudden onslaught. His cock throbbed and ached inside its cage, and he thrust his hips up, already begging for more of his Master’s touch.

Kent laughed harshly at the sight. “My, my. It seems like someone is enjoying himself, aren’t you?” He landed another blow across Lukas’s already sore backside. “Do you like it when I punish you, you disgusting little fucktoy?”

Lukas winced and nodded, beyond caring how obscene or humiliating the admission might be. He did like it, and he wanted more. He wanted to feel the bite of the belt against his flesh again and again until he was writhing and sobbing with the pain.

“Yes, Master,” he breathed after a moment. He writhed and thrust against the cushions, his hips rising up to meet each blow. “Yes, I like it. Please, Sir… please punish me…”

Kent laughed again and struck him once more. “As you wish.” He brought the belt down again and again, covering Lukas’s backside in a crisscross of welts. He alternated between the belt and his hand, making Lukas count out each blow and thank him for it when he was finished.

By the time Kent was through with him, Lukas was a sobbing, incoherent mess. His ass burned and ached, and his cock throbbed with need inside its cage.

But Kent didn’t stop there. Instead, positioning himself between Lukas’s spread legs, he took his slave’s cock in hand. He stroked and fondled him through the cage, forcing Lukas to feel but not allowing him to cum.

Lukas keened and thrust up against his Master’s hand, desperate for release but knowing it wouldn’t be allowed. He begged and pleaded for permission to cum, but his Master only laughed cruelly and continued the torment.

Finally, when Lukas felt as though the pain and the pleasure were too much to take, his Master stopped. He released his grip on his slave’s cock and moved to kneel over him instead. There, positioning himself between Lukas’s spread thighs, he thrust his own cock into Lukas’s willing body.

Lukas cried out at the sudden intrusion and thrust back to meet his Master. He wrapped his legs around Kent, already desperate for everything his Master had to give.

But his Master was merciless. He fucked Lukas hard and fast, forcing him to take everything he had to give and more.

With one hand he reached down to take Lukas’s trapped length, stroking and fondling him as he pounded into him again and again.

Lukas writhed beneath him, his body on fire with need. He begged to be allowed to cum, pleaded with his Master for release, but there would be none for him tonight.

Finally, Kent gave a last brutal thrust. With a satisfied grunt, he buried himself inside Lukas’s willing body and came.

When he was through he withdrew, leaving Lukas feeling empty and aching. His cock was a stiff, throbbing length inside its cage, but there would be no relief for him.

His Master got to his feet and fastened his jeans once more. Then, smirking down at his slave, he delivered a sharp slap to Lukas’s upturned rump.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” he mocked after a moment, apparently amused by Lukas’s plight. “The only pleasure you’re ever going to get is through my cock, you know.”

Lukas shifted and whimpered. He couldn’t deny the truth of his Master’s words, but he also couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at them.

He wanted to cum so badly, wanted the feel of his Master’s hands on him without the torment of the cage. But he knew there was no hope of that, not with the way Kent had him locked up tight.

“Yes, Master.” He kept his gaze lowered as he spoke, not sure he could meet Kent’s eyes right now. “You’re right, of course.”

Kent’s lips curved up in a cruel smile. “Of course I am.” He straightened and then moved back to sit on the couch. There, making himself comfortable, he reached for the remote.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, I think it’s about time we watched that movie, don’t you?”

Lukas hesitated. He still wasn’t sure he was allowed to join his Master on the couch, and he didn’t want to make another mistake.

But as he thought about it, he realized he couldn’t just kneel at Kent’s feet, either. His ass was still sore from the beating, and he didn’t think he would be able to stay on his knees for long.
As if reading his thoughts, Kent laughed harshly. Moving with lightning speed, he reached out and grabbed Lukas by the hair. Using his grip on Lukas to control him, he forced him down to the floor at his feet.

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” he warned, already releasing his grip on Lukas’s hair and settling back against the couch. “You know where you belong.”

Lukas nodded and got into position. Kneeling at his Master’s feet, he leaned in to begin licking and sucking at them as he had been taught to do.

Kent chuckled softly and reached for the remote. “That’s a good boy,” he praised, already flipping through the menu to find what he wanted to watch. “Keep that up and maybe I’ll give you a treat later.”

Lukas continued to worship his Master’s feet, doing his best to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. He didn’t want to disturb Kent while he was trying to watch his movie, and he also didn’t want to earn himself any more punishments.

As it was, he was still feeling the effects of the last one, and he wasn’t eager for a repeat performance.

For the next two hours he knelt at his Master’s feet and worked to clean them, making sure they were as clean as he could get them. His Master seemed pleased with his efforts, and he settled back against the couch to watch his movie without paying Lukas any more attention.

Finally, when the movie was over, Kent ordered Lukas into the bedroom to prepare for bed. He followed close behind, apparently intent on making sure Lukas didn’t get into any more trouble.

“You know,” he said after a moment, as Lukas positioned himself on the floor beside the bed, “I’ve been thinking. You really seem to like the belt, don’t you? I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at it when I use it on you. It’s as though you’re getting off on it or something.”

Lukas blushed at the words, but he knew better than to deny them. His Master had made an observation, and now he wanted an answer.

“Yes, Master,” Lukas said after a moment. He kept his gaze averted as he spoke, but he also knew that he had no choice but to be honest. “I do like it. It feels good when you use it on me.”

Kent smirked, clearly enjoying his slave’s discomfort. “Oh it does, does it?” He reached down to scratch Lukas behind the ear in a mockery of real affection. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to do something about that, won’t we?”

Lukas swallowed hard, not at all sure he liked the sound of that. But it was far too late to back out now, and all he could do was nod and agree to whatever his Master had in store for him.

“Yes, Sir,” he whispered, doing his best not to let his nervousness show.

Kent chuckled cruelly. “Very well then.” He straightened, then moved across the room to the dresser. There, opening the top drawer, he began to rummage through it, apparently looking for something.

After a moment, he seemed to find what he had been searching for. Pulling it out, he made his way back across the room. Then, standing over Lukas, he held it up for his slave to see.

Lukas’s eyes went wide as he realized what it was. His Master held a roll of tape in one hand, and Lukas knew at once what he intended to do with it.

“Please, Sir.” He couldn’t stop himself from speaking. He was already shaking with fear and dread at what his Master had planned for him, and he couldn’t seem to hold the words back any longer. “Please, don’t…”

But Kent only laughed. “Oh, I think I will.” He knelt beside Lukas, apparently unconcerned by his slave’s pleading. Then, already tearing a piece of tape from the roll, he moved behind Lukas.

“No, please!” Lukas squirmed and struggled, but it was no use.

His Master took hold of the belt and guided Lukas’s hips back until the length of leather was pressed firmly against his entrance. Then, using the tape, he secured it in place, making it so that Lukas couldn’t get away.

Finally, apparently satisfied, he sat back. His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he surveyed his handiwork.

“Well, well.” He regarded Lukas thoughtfully for a moment. Then, as if unable to resist, he reached down to run one fingertip along the length of leather. “My, my… It seems like your pleasure god is ready to give you some pleasure, isn’t it? I wonder…” He paused and his lips curved up in an evil smile. “I wonder if we can’t make him give you even more.”

Lukas whimpered and squirmed, but he was held fast by the tape. He could only watch as his Master picked up the roll once more and began tearing another piece free.

Kent positioned himself behind Lukas. There, he tore another piece from the roll and used it to secure the other end of the belt in place.

Lukas moaned at the feel of the leather against his most private place. It felt good, but at the same time it was also tormenting, and he found himself desperate to feel more.

Apparently sensing his slave’s need, Kent moved to stand in front of him. There, already undoing his jeans, he pulled out his cock and guided Lukas’s head towards it.

Lukas opened his mouth without hesitation. He took his Master inside, already desperate to taste him.

Kent grunted and thrust into Lukas’s mouth, already fucking his face without mercy. He tangled his fingers in Lukas’s hair, holding him in place as he used him for his own pleasure.

Lukas whimpered, but made no attempt to pull away. Instead, he opened his mouth and allowed his Master to do as he willed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kent released his grip on Lukas’s head. He pulled away and tucked himself back into his jeans. Then, moving back to where Lukas still knelt with the belt taped to his ass, he regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

“Well?” he said finally. “Do you like your present?”

Lukas nodded eagerly. He could feel the belt shifting against him with every movement, and it was deliciously tormenting.

“Yes, Master. Thank you.” He did his best to keep his voice steady as he spoke, but it was difficult.

He could feel his arousal building inside him, feel it growing until it was almost unbearable. And he knew it would only get worse from here.

Kent smirked. “You’re welcome.” He stood and moved across the room. There, he turned back the covers on the bed and climbed in, just as he had the last few nights. He settled back against the pillows and regarded Lukas with narrowed eyes.

“Well?” he prompted after a moment. “What are you waiting for? Get to bed. Unless you had something else in mind?”

Lukas blushed and shook his head. He knew where he was to sleep, and he also knew better than to try and join his Master in the bed. That sort of behavior would only earn him a punishment, and he didn’t want that.

Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and moved around to the other side of the bed. There, he got down on his knees, just as he always did, and curled up on his side.

Kent regarded him silently for a long moment, apparently lost in thought. Finally, he nodded.

“Tomorrow is Monday, and that means I’ll be going back to my university and my family home. You, of course, will have to go to work.” He paused, apparently thinking. Then, with a smirk, he went on. “Set your alarm for five so we can get in some morning preparations before leaving, hmm?” He smirked down at Lukas. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Lukas shook his head. In all honesty, he had forgotten that this was only the weekend, and that come Monday things would have to go back to normal.

But despite the pang of disappointment the knowledge caused, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. His Master had other obligations, and he, too, had to go back to work eventually.

As much as he would have liked to stay here and play the obedient slave to Kent’s Master, he knew it wasn’t possible. It was only a fantasy after all, and fantasies always had to end sometime.

“No, Master,” he said after a moment. Doing his best to hide his disappointment, he forced himself to meet Kent’s gaze. “I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Kent nodded, apparently satisfied. “Now then, I think that’s enough excitement for one evening, don’t you?” Without further ado, he lay back against the pillows once more and reached for the light switch.

Lukas lay in the darkness, his mind turning over everything that had happened in the past few days. It had been an incredible weekend, but now it was over, and it was back to reality. Then he went to sleep.

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My plan for another night of using my brother cock were ruined when my parents in formed us that our grandparents would be staying with us for a week and that we would have to sleep in the living room. The living room was an open space that didn’t afford me any privacy and my grandmother was a light sleeper .

It’s was the longest week of my life. Everything time I saw my brother big bulge i would think of the beautiful thick long uncut cock. My brother would wear a pair of gym short around the house and every time he sat down and spead his legs i could see up the leg and there resting on his eggs size balls was the foreskin cover cock head.see it got hard within seconds and I would have sit and wait till my cock soften so my parents or grandparents wouldn’t see It.My only relief jerking off every chance I  could must have jerkoff 4 or 5 time a day. I thought of my brother thick cock. I knew he had to be jerking off two .one nigt acting like I was a sleep I heard rapid breathing and saw the blanket covering my brother moving up and down around his cock.

Finally my grandparents went home and we were able to move back into your room. It was a Friday night so my brother went out with friends. I went to bed and must have fallen into a deep asleep because when I woke up my brother was sleeping next to me on his back i could hear him softly snoring.A sheet cover him lower body. Between my brother legs was the outline of his bulge. I pulled the sheet off him . He was wearing gray 2 xist tee shirt and briefs Once again I got up and locked the bedroom door. No one was going to ruined my plans . I got back into bed and lay down next to my brother I lay there for 10 mins I then acted like I was turn in my sleep but I made sure my hand land right on his bulge. If he woke I could play it off as something that happened while sleeping.. But he just kept softly snoring. I starting to rub the outine of cock though his briefs.  I felt my brother cock start to stir and fill out. I squeeze his cock and it respond by throbbing to my touch. I slid my fingers along his waistband.and worked my hand into his briefs. My  fingers came in contact with my brother skin. I rub the smooth area above my brother cock. . He had shaved off his pubic hair .lower mny hand his foreskin cover cock head met my fingers.

i squeeze his hard cock gently . His cock throbbed. Using my fingers I slowly pull back his foreskin till the moist percum  head of my brother cock coated my finger with his percum. For a few minutes I just play with his  foreskin cover cock head. I was cut but my brother wasn’t. my hand became cover with his percum. I use my brother percum as a lube I work my hand down his shaft covering his whole cock in his percum..i sat there with my brother cock in my hand siding my hand up and down his cock. His cock started throbbing in my hand. I knew he would come if I just kept jerking his cock.  But I was just getting started.  I slowly moved down that bed till my face was inches from his cock. I pull his briefs down so that they were down his balls. Tonigh i was going to learn my cocksucking technique .

My brother and his big cock would be my training tool. Leaning in I kiss every inch of his hard cock.i mouthed my way up and down his cock using my lips to gently mouth his shaft I engulf the foreskin cover cock head. My hand pull back his foreskin.  My tongue lick clean more of  my brother precum his balls really could churn it out. slowly I started just sucking and nursing the head i love how my tongue rolled around and over it. After a few minutes I took in two more inches his cock felt like it alway should have been there. Percum started leaking faster on my tongue. and I wanted more of my brother beautiful cock i sucked down 2 more inches.  The head of his cock was at the back of my throat. His percum coating my tonsils .

I start to suck a little harder. My brother cock responded by throbbing in my mouth. I add some more suction and my brother cock throbbed  hard. I get into a rhythm..i i want to suck his cock forever. then suddenly I felt a strong throb my brother cock got rock hard.  I knew what was coming. My brother cock blasted off like a cannon. Ropes of thick cum fill my mouth I had to swallow fast my brother must have shot 8 to 9 heavy ropes of cum. Some drip out of the side of my mouth. My own cock exploded when the first rope hit the back of my mouth.His cock stayed hard my mouth. I held it mouth  till I was sure I drain all the cum out of his cock.  After  i cleaned my brother. I kissed his cock and balls before i covered him back with the sheet and lay down beside.  him i layed there with a belly filled of his cum. I smile thinking next time I’ll try to take everr inches.

To be continued ..

Chapter 1

I felt my blood boiling, an urgent need to send her to hell every time I got home, and Samantha complained that we had been married for eight years without having children, or about how little time I spent at home because of work, something I patiently explained to her every time.

Although I was a long-distance truck driver, I liked being at home with my wife. But that day I had a surprise for her.

I arrived earlier than usual, two days early, to be exact. The house was incredibly quiet, which was not unusual. I took off my shoes and sweater in the hallway and put them in the small closet. I walked through the living room, where the TV was hanging on the back wall. The brown L-shaped sofa was in the middle of the room, covered with a red blanket, the one we used to snuggle up with while watching TV shows or playing board games.

The coffee table was where we used to put our food when we didn’t feel like using the dining room. The back wall was painted navy blue, the others white, with white curtains framing the window.

But this time, instead of finding a drink or leftover food, I found papers, initially I didn’t think much of it; Samantha usually left her work lying around. Except when I tried to find her, she wasn’t there.

Only my clothes were left in the closet, her suitcases were gone. Her perfumes and cream were missing too; the room didn’t smell like her anymore. I walked back to the living room, looking for any hint of her, but I only saw those papers on the coffee table.

I picked them up and felt the color drain from my face. I collapsed onto the couch, and the void on my stomach was growing wider as I saw the ‘Divorce’ and her signature on it. Although I saw this coming, I never thought she could do this to me, I love her so much, my mind went blank.

 Every sound faded from my ears except my heart which was beating faster. I started to see water spots on the paper. I looked up, searching for a leak, but there was none… until a drop fell on my hand and I realized I had started to cry. I… I don’t remember the last time I did.

The knot in my throat grew tighter and heavier with every passing second. I began to gasp for air while the tears fell without stopping. Life is ironic; just when I came home to tell her I had quit my job to give her the life she wanted, she left me.

My parents died when I was fifteen, and I ended up in foster care. I was never a brilliant student, so college was never in my plans. Being a trucker was the most logical option; I was good at driving and I liked it, and the pay was good, even if it meant I didn’t have a life.

The divorce destroyed me. Seeing her so radiant, so splendid without me… it hurt. I ended up with no money, well, very little. I couldn’t stay here, where I would see her in every place we had ever visited. I will move far away and start a new life. A life without her.“

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The tuxedo clung to my muscular frame like a second skin, the bow tie tight around my neck, making every swallow feel like a reminder of how fucked I was. I was Ben, nineteen, blonde and built from years of gym grind, but tonight at this gay charity auction, I felt like prey. Azhar, the twenty-five-year-old with that swimmer’s lean muscle and dark hair, moved beside me, his face set in the same grim line. We were straight guys blackmailed into waitering, five tables each through a six-course meal and endless drink refills.

The host had us by the balls—threaten to leak our secrets if we bailed and I already hated the way eyes raked over us as we started serving appetizers, trays balanced, tension coiling in my gut.

Customers leered, hands brushing my ass as I poured wine. ‘Looking good, boy,’ one growled, fingers grazing my thigh. I jerked away, heart pounding, grimacing in disgust, but kept serving, my jaw clenched tight. Azhar got it worse at his table—a burly guy slapped his ass hard, making him flinch and curse under his breath, batting the hand away with a visible scowl.

Salads came next, and the bidding kicked off with our jackets. At my table, bids climbed quick—$150, $200—until a grinning bidder at $250 won. ‘Strip it off on the table, stud,’ he demanded. The host nodded from the side, whispering threats under his breath. I climbed up, shrugging the jacket from my shoulders slow, the fabric sliding down my arms to reveal the crisp white shirt hugging my broad chest and biceps. Tossed to the winner, I felt exposed already, the cool air hitting my shirt sleeves as I hopped down, serving greens while hands roamed my now-jacketless torso, squeezing my pecs through the fabric. I shoved one away, face twisting in revulsion.

Azhar’s jacket went for $275 at his table; he peeled it off reluctantly on the wood surface, his lean swimmer’s arms flexing as the jacket dropped, exposing his shirt clinging to his tapered waist. He grimaced the whole time, swatting groping fingers that pinched his sides, his dark eyes flashing hate as he served, a hand already dipping low to cup his crotch.

The bow ties auctioned next during salads. A slick guy at my table bid $300, yanking mine loose with a grin. ‘Up on the table—dance for it.’ I climbed back on, heart slamming, and shuffled awkwardly, hips swaying as the crowd whooped, my face burning with shame. Off went the bow tie, tossed away, my neck bare and vulnerable.

Azhar lost his for $320, forced to grind against a chair edge at his table, cursing loud as hands slapped his thighs and one slid up his inner leg, making him jerk back with a snarled ‘Fuck off!’ His neck exposed too, he served with a rigid posture, visibly seething. Entrees hit the tables, plates heavy with steak and sides, and the stripping escalated.

Shoes went first—bids flew to $400 for mine, and I had to bend over at my table, hands shaking as I untied the laces of my right shoe first, the polished leather slipping off to expose my navy blue formal socks, the fabric hugging my foot and ankle. A customer reached out, groping my ass cheeks through my pants as I bent low, fingers digging in hard while I unlaced the left shoe next, pulling it free and revealing the matching navy blue sock, my toes flexing against the cool air—I grimaced, shoving his hand away roughly. ‘Now perform,’ the bidder demanded, so I hopped back on the table, flexing my calves and toes, the cool wood under my soles making my skin crawl, multiple hands now grabbing at my socked feet and thighs.

Azhar’s shoes auctioned for $450; he bent over too, untying one lace at a time, but as he yanked the first shoe free, exposing his blue-brown striped sock, he lost balance and stumbled, falling onto the table edge with a grunt. Customers pounced immediately, hands gripping his arms and waist, yanking at his shirt and forcing fingers down his trousers to grope his bulge and ass crack roughly. ‘Get the fuck off me!’ Azhar snarled, thrashing, but they pinned him briefly, palming his soft cock through his briefs. I rushed over to help, shoving one guy away, only for the table to turn on me—hands ripping at my pants, unzipping my fly halfway and dipping in to squeeze my balls, another pulling me into a forced kiss, his tongue shoving into my mouth as I gagged and pushed back hard.

The host barked from the side, ‘Enough—release them!’ and the gropers backed off laughing, leaving us both panting and disheveled but still clothed, Azhar cursing wildly as he pulled his fly shut, his face flushed with rage. He balanced on one foot to strip the second shoe, guys still feeling up his thighs and crotch as it came off, then twirled—still in shirt—on his table, the men cheering his socked legs while he batted away more gropes, muttering curses. Groping intensified everywhere; a hand slipped through my fly, palming my bulge. ‘Nice outline in those briefs,’ he chuckled, squeezing my soft cock through the fabric. I batted his hand away hard, cheeks burning, spitting ‘Get your fucking hands off!’ but another pulled me close, mashing his lips to mine. I shoved back, tasting whiskey on his breath, sputtering in rage, only for a second guy to grab my face and force another sloppy kiss, tongue probing deep as I retched. Azhar shoved a kisser away too, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression pure loathing as another guy fondled his ass and yanked him into a rough lip-lock, Azhar’s muffled protests turning to a growl.

The air buzzed with low chatter and clinking glasses, the stage lights hot overhead. Halfway through the entrees, the host’s voice boomed over the mic. ‘Time for a special show, gentlemen! Our waiters, Ben and Azhar, up on stage!’ My stomach dropped. Azhar shot me a wide-eyed look as we were herded up, both of us scowling. The crowd of suited men hooted, chairs scraping. The host, that smug bastard with his authoritative smirk, leaned in close, whispering, ‘Kiss, or your lives go public. Make it good.’ I froze, fists clenched, but his eyes bored into mine—threat clear. Azhar’s face twisted in disgust, but he grabbed my shoulders. Our lips crashed together, rough and unwilling, his stubble scraping mine. I tasted salt from his sweat, my mouth forced open as he shoved his tongue in, the crowd erupting in cheers and whistles. ‘Yeah, suck face!’ someone yelled. It lasted forever, my cock twitching involuntarily against my will, before the host shoved us offstage. ‘Back to work, sluts,’ he hissed.

We pushed through the rest of the entrees, batting away groping hands as we cleared plates, shirts still buttoned tight over our chests, pants zipped despite the constant tugs at my fly—men everywhere pinching my ass, stroking my thighs, making me grimace and curse with every touch, pulling me into more forced kisses that left my lips bruised. Azhar looked ready to snap, shoving hands from his crotch and chest, his lean body tense, spitting after yet another customer mashed his mouth against his. Sweat beaded on my skin from the unwanted touches, my cock stirring traitorously in my briefs.

As the next course arrived, the bidding turned to our shirt buttons, one agonizing reveal at a time. At my table, bids flew for the top button—collar level—hitting $500 for the silver-haired winner. ‘Up on the table, boy, undo it yourself.’ Heart racing, I climbed up, fingers fumbling with the stiff fabric, popping the first button to reveal the smooth, tanned skin at the base of my neck, a hint of my collarbone peeking out. The crowd whistled as I stepped down, tray in hand, serving the mains with my neck exposed, a hand already brushing the bare skin, twisting my nipple through the shirt—I yanked it away, face sour. Next bid won the second button for $550; back on the table, I undid it, exposing the upper swell of my chiseled pecs, the muscle flexing under the lights as I twisted for their view. ‘Fuck, look at that chest starting to show,’ a guy muttered, his hand groping my partial bare skin. I hopped off, pouring drinks, nipples hardening from the cool air on the partial reveal, another customer pinching the visible edge of my pec hard, drawing a hiss of hate from me, then yanking me close for a deep, unwanted kiss. Third button: up again at $600, undoing it to bare the full top of my pecs, the deep cleft between them on display, sweat trickling down. Bids climbed higher for the fourth at $650, revealing my hard nipples fully as I popped it open on the table, the pink buds stiff and begging for touches I hated—hands tweaked them rough immediately after while I served, making me flinch and bat wildly. The final button bid stripped the shirt wide at $700, my ripped abs contracting as I undid it center-stage on the table, the whole V of my torso naked now, obliques rippling, but I left the shirt hanging open, still tucked into my pants, flapping against my skin as I moved.

Azhar endured the same at his tables, climbing up button by button—first his neck for $520, then upper chest revealing his lean swimmer’s pecs at $570, nipples exposed next with a gasp at $620 as hands pinched them, making him grimace and curse, and finally his tight abs bared at $680, shirt gaping open but tucked in, a hand down his pants outlining his dick as he served between reveals, his face a mask of revulsion, enduring extra forced kisses that made him shove and wipe his mouth repeatedly. ‘Bet it’s thick,’ the guy said, squeezing—Azhar slapped the hand away, snarling.

We served the next course with shirts flapping open, exposing our bare chests and abs to constant grabs—fingers raking my nipples, palming my pecs, pinching Azhar’s lean torso while he cursed and batted. Belts next: mine unbuckled with a clink for $750, yanked free, pants sagging a bit, and I had to strut on the table, belt whipping the air while gropers grabbed my loosening waistband and forced another kiss on me. Azhar’s belt went for $800, pulled off as he posed, men tugging his pants already and mashing lips to his in rough makeouts he fought.

Trousers now: unbuttoned slow for $900 on mine, the bidder climbing up to pop the button himself, fabric parting to show my waistband, then zipper dragged down tooth by tooth at $950, the blue stripes of my briefs peeking out inch by inch, cock outline clear and thickening against the fabric as cool air hit my skin—Azhar’s followed at $920 unbuttoned, a hand lingering on his lean hip, and $970 zipped, his blue-red-brown stripes flashing fully, his soft dick’s shape visible as he grimaced on the table.

We served like that, pants half-open, trays wobbling, shirts still tucked but gaping to bare our torsos. Men pulled the gaps wider, fingers dipping in to stroke my balls and cock shaft through briefs, commenting, ‘Soft now, but it’ll harden—nice fucking bulge.’ I yanked the zipper up, only for another to unzip it again, tugging the waistband down my thighs to mid-thigh level, groping my ass crack and yanking me into a sloppy kiss while palming my growing erection—I grimaced, pulling back up with a growl, but hands kept exposing me, briefs tenting hard from the friction, ass cheeks flashing as I bent to pour, multiple guys now trying to yank my pants lower, batting and cursing ignored as they forced tongues into my mouth one after another.

Azhar grunted nearby, his pants shoved to his knees repeatedly for $1,000 bid, brown-red-blue stripes exposed, a customer palming his hardening cock while others felt his thighs and balls, pulling him into aggressive kisses that left him sputtering—he shoved them away hard, face twisted in fury, but they dragged his pants low again, fingers wrapping his shaft to stroke him stiff. ‘Fight it, boys!’ the host barked from the side, reminding us, ‘Or everyone sees those videos.’ We batted hands, pulled pants up, but they dragged them low again, my semi-hard dick throbbing against the briefs from unwanted touches, Azhar’s lean cock stiffening against his will as gropers stroked him relentlessly.

The full trouser removal came next, bids soaring to $1,100 for mine—the winner grabbed the open waistband, yanking the pants down my muscular thighs slow and deliberate, fabric dragging over my skin, hooking briefly on my bulging briefs before sliding past my knees and calves, pooling at my navy-socked ankles. I stepped out awkwardly on the table, briefs now fully on display, my thick cock semi-erect and outlined clearly, ass cheeks flexing as I posed, hands immediately grabbing my bare thighs and crack.

Azhar’s trousers fetched $1,150; a group of bidders hauled his down together, unresisting under threat, the material scraping his lean legs, revealing his blue-red-brown striped briefs clinging to his hardening dick and balls, pants kicked off his socked feet as he stood exposed, his swimmer’s V-line drawing whistles while fingers probed his ass and stroked his shaft through the thin fabric. Now down to open shirts tucked loosely, briefs, and socks, we served the final courses, shirts half hanging off our shoulders from constant tugs, flapping to expose every inch of our torsos and hips.

The venue hummed with lust, men bolder now—hands everywhere, grabbing my bulge, pinching my ass, yanking my shirt fully off one shoulder to bare me more while forcing kisses that bruised my lips, tongues shoving deep as I gagged. One grabbed my waist, yanking my briefs down to mid-thigh, my full cock springing free—thick, veined, half-erect from the constant stroking, hand wrapping my shaft to pump rough and fast. I groaned, hating the sparks of pleasure, pushing weakly, my face contorted in disgust.

 ‘No—fuck off.’ Azhar got it worse in briefs, often exposed—his longer dick pulled free multiple times for $1,300 bids, stroked from soft to rigid repeatedly, pre-cum beading on his tip as multiple men groped his lean abs, balls, and shaft at once, yanking his briefs low to play with his asshole and force him into deep, sloppy kisses he fought with curses, his lean body twisting in visible hatred. They pulled us close, forcing more kisses, tongues invading as hands jerked us off publicly—Azhar wiped his mouth after one, spitting in hate, only for another to grab and expose him again.

The host interrupted again, dragging us onstage mid-service. ‘Another kiss for the bidders!’ Crowd roared. Azhar’s lips met mine, desperate and sloppy, his hard cock brushing mine through thin fabric. We made out under the lights, hands forced to grope each other’s asses, the touches turning my stomach even as my body betrayed me with a full erection—both of us grimacing between forced tongue thrusts. ‘Deeper, boys,’ the host commanded, whispering threats. Whistles drowned my internal scream—hating every second, but trapped. As we broke apart, panting, a customer below yelled, ‘Now fuck on stage

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The morning light filtered through the thin dorm curtains, casting a hazy glow over the rumpled bedsheets. Jacob stirred first, his body aching in ways he’d never felt before. Deep, satisfying soreness that radiated from his core, reminding him of every thrust, every pulse of heat from the night prior. He glanced over at Cade, who was already sitting up, rubbing his eyes with a sheepish expression. The air between them was thick, not with pheromones this time, but with the weight of what they’d done.

‘Hey,’ Jacob said, his voice rough from sleep and the lingering echo of moans he barely recognized as his own. He pulled the blanket higher, suddenly self-conscious about his nakedness under the covers.

Cade met his gaze, hazel eyes filled with a mix of regret and warmth. ‘Morning. About last night… I can’t apologize enough. That shouldn’t have happened like that.’ He ran a hand through his dark hair, the muscles in his arm flexing unconsciously, a reminder of the powerful body that had pinned Jacob down, filling him so completely.

Jacob shifted, trying to play it cool, but the memory hit him hard; Cade’s massive cock buried deep inside, stretching him wide, the slick heat of cum flooding his insides, making every nerve scream with pleasure. His dick twitched under the sheets, hardening just from the thought, a betraying throb that made his cheeks flush. He crossed his legs to hide it, clearing his throat. ‘I accept your apology. Let’s just try harder to avoid it next time. You were saying that’s not normal for you? Like, having a Heat so soon?”

Cade shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, the sheet tenting slightly over his lap. Still impressive even at rest. ‘No, man. Usually, it’s months between them. Maybe once every three or four. I was as shocked as you when it hit yesterday. I thought I had more time, y’know? Tried to bail before it got bad.’ His voice dropped, laced with genuine embarrassment. ‘Fucking you… it was intense. Hot as hell, don’t get me wrong, I’ve never had an experience that intense before. It was more than just sex, more than any other Heat sex I’ve had. But I hate that I dragged you into it. You’re straight, right? Or at least, you weren’t looking for that.’

The directness made Jacob’s twitch turn into a full stir, the phantom sensation of Cade’s girth sliding in and out ghosting over his skin. He could almost feel the veined shaft dragging against his walls again, the way his ass had clenched around it, greedy and transformed by that first swallow of cum. ‘I’ve never really been into guys. I don’t know, I’ve never thought about. I mean sure, I’ll stare in the locker room to compare, but I’ve never thought about getting on my knees for a guy. Those pheromones, fuck, they really pack a punch. Made me do shit I wouldn’t normally.’ He forced a grin, though his pulse raced. ‘But like I said, just a one-time thing. I’m sure all roommate’s end up covered in each other’s cum at some point, right? We just got it out of the way on the first day’

Cade laughed, relief softening his features. It meant everything to him that Jacob forgave him and could even joke about it. ‘Absolutely. There are exercises I usually do, meditation, doctor’s visits. Won’t let it blindside us like that again. Promise.’ He stood, grabbing a towel from his chair, his broad back rippling as he moved. The sight stirred another unwelcome spark in Jacob’s gut, but he shoved it down. Satisfied, this was done, Jacob watched Cade head for the door. ‘Gotta shower and hit hit Greek Philosophy 101. Professor’s a hardass about attendance. Catch you later?’

‘Sure,’ Jacob replied, already pulling out his phone to distract from the lingering heat in his veins. As the door clicked shut, he exhaled, willing his erection to fade. It was just biology, he told himself. One weird night. Nothing more.

Cade trudged across campus, the crisp air doing little to clear the fog in his mind. Football practice had been brutal yesterday, but nothing compared to the guilt gnawing at him now. Fucking Jacob… god, the way his roommate had gasped and begged, tight hole yielding to every inch of his cock. It had been raw, primal, the kind of connection that lit up every nerve. Cade’s dick stirred in his jeans at the memory, the athlete’s body responding with a low hum of arousal. But the shame twisted it sour. Jacob hadn’t asked for that, hadn’t signed up to be bent over and filled like some Heat-slut. And yet, the heat of Jacob’s mouth on him, swallowing his load so eagerly… fuck, it was scorching.

There were guys he knew that chased Alphas, they came in all shapes and sizes, all ages. Couldn’t get enough of it, like junkies. Lots of Alphas called them Betas, they do anything to get a hand on Alpha cock. But unlike Alphas there was nothing genetically different about Betas; they just always wanted more. There was even a black market in Alpha cum and pheromones that Betas traded in. He’d never been involved in anything like that, but he’d heard rumors, he knew it was out there.

Weirdly, the timing of this Heat didn’t make sense. His last Heat had been just weeks ago, back home during summer break— a quick, frantic hookup with a willing friend from high school at a party. Alphas didn’t cycle like this; it was supposed to be predictable, spaced out. Two in less than a month? It had never happened to him before. Cade shook his head, blaming stress—the scholarship pressure, new classes, sharing a room with a hot track star. He needed to get his shit together.

As an Alpha, gay and straight didn’t really mean much to him. While Cade preferred men, when the Heat was on, he’d fuck anyone within fifty feet.

The lecture hall for Greek Philosophy 101 buzzed with early arrivals, the scent of coffee and old books hanging in the air. Cade slipped into a seat near the back, pulling out his notebook as the Teaching Assistant, Ryan, took the front. Ryan was mid-twenties, average height and buil. He wasn’t ripped like Cade, but solid enough, with a cute, boy-next-door vibe that made him approachable. Strong jaw dusted with light stubble, kind eyes that crinkled when he smiled, tousled blond hair that begged to be ruffled. He launched into the lecture on Plato’s Symposium, his voice smooth and engaging, gesturing animatedly about the nature of love and desire in ancient texts.

Cade tried to focus, scribbling notes on eros and philia, but his mind wandered. Ryan’s lips moved with passion, and suddenly Cade imagined them wrapped around his cock, those kind eyes glazing over with lust, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose as he bobbed up and down on Cade’s cock. He pictured bending Ryan over the podium, yanking down those khakis to reveal a tight ass, pounding into him while the class watched, Ryan moaning like Jacob had, desperate, broken. His cock thickened in his jeans, pressing against the zipper, the fantasy vivid: Ryan’s hole clenching around him, hot and slick, begging for cum to quench the fire.

Fuck. Cade shifted, crossing his legs to hide the bulge, heat creeping up his neck. Not now. He forced his eyes to the board, tuning into Ryan’s words about the ladder of love, ascending from physical to divine. Ironic, considering the carnal storm raging in his head. The lecture dragged, every minute amplifying the low ache in his groin, but he clamped down, determined to play the bookish nerd, not the Alpha.

When the session ended, students filed out, and Cade bolted for the nearest bathroom down the hall, the single-occupancy stalls offering the mercy of privacy. He didn’t lock the door to the bathroom. He just planned a quick jerk to bleed off the tension, thoughts of Jacob’s ass and Ryan’s mouth too potent to ignore. He ducked into a stall, shoving his jeans down, fist wrapping around his thickening shaft. It sprang free, heavy and veined, already leaking at the tip. He stroked slowly, eyes closing as he replayed the night: Jacob’s lips stretching around him, the wet heat of his throat, then the plunge into that virgin-tight hole, walls pulsating like they were made for his cock.

A subtle warmth built in his chest, familiar and unwelcome. No. Not again. He froze, hand paused on his length. Heats didn’t come this fast. Yesterday was a fluke, stress-induced. But the air thickened with his scent, musky and potent, seeping under the door. Denial hit hard; this couldn’t be happening. His cock throbbed harder, balls tightening, the Heat coiling low. ‘Shit,’ he muttered, pumping faster to chase it away, but the pheromones bloomed stronger, undeniable.

The door creaked open, footsteps echoing. Cade held his breath, willing whoever it was to piss and go. But the guy lingered, washing hands slowly, inhaling deeply. Ryan. Cade recognized the voice humming a tune from class. Panic surged. Ryan was inhaling it all, the pheromones wrapping around him like invisible chains.

A stall door latched next to Cade’s, then the unmistakable rustle of fabric, a zipper. Soft grunts followed, rhythmic, flesh on flesh. Ryan was jerking off, the sounds wet and urgent, breath hitching. ‘Fuck… what is this?’ Ryan gasped, pace quickening. A low moan escaped as he came, splattering against the tiled floor, but it dissolved into a frustrated groan. No relief. The pheromones demanded more, the only cure buried deep in an Cade’s balls.

‘Fucking Alphas…’ Ryan muttered, voice thick with irritation and lingering lust. The words hung, confirming he knew.

Cade’s heart pounded. Should he just leave? Get out now while he still could and let Ryan get a dose of anti-pheromones at the clinic? Every medical facility was supposed to carry them for emergencies. But as Cade heard renewed sounds of pounding flesh from the next stall, he knew he couldn’t leave him like this; writhing, unfulfilled. Hesitant, he knocked on the dividing wall. ‘Hey… you okay in there?’

A beat of silence, then Ryan’s voice, edged with desperation. ‘Just get in here and fuck me. Get this over with. I have another class to get to and I don’t have time for an ER visit.’

Cade swallowed, pushing open his stall and slipping into Ryan’s. The TA sat on the toilet, pants around his ankles, cock semi-hard and glistening from his release, face flushed. Those kind eyes were wild now, pupils wide, his glasses fogged from his moist breaths. Cade nodded mutely, dropping his jeans fully, his massive erection bobbing free, thick as a wrist, ten inches of veined heat.

Ryan’s gaze locked on it, licking his lips. ‘Cum in my mouth, quickly… let’s speed it up.’ He leaned forward, hands gripping Cade’s hips, mouth engulfing the tip in one go. Wet heat enveloped him, Ryan’s tongue swirling greedily, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed. No hesitation, just efficient suction, drawing out pre-cum that made Ryan hum in approval.

Cade groaned, fingers in Ryan’s hair, the sensation electric. His mouth tighter than Jacob’s, more practiced. “Fuck…are you sure? Maybe we shouldn’t.” But Ryan’s insistent tongue prodded him on. He focused, willing the release, and it came fast: the first load erupted, thick ropes coating Ryan’s tongue, spilling down his throat. Ryan swallowed hungrily, but pulled off after the second spurt, eyes glazing further, body trembling as the cum hit his system. Hypersensitivity kicked in, his skin flushing, hole clenching with need.

‘More,’ Ryan demanded, voice husky, but Cade was already shifting. He came a third time, deliberate, smearing the hot jets over his palm. Ryan stood shakily, turning to brace against the wall, pants kicked aside. Cade tugged them down fully, exposing Ryan’s ass—firm, pale cheeks parting to reveal a puckered entrance. He slicked it generously, fingers circling the rim before pushing in a dollop, making Ryan hiss and push back.

“Oh God, oh fuck, yes—feels so… sensitive,’ Ryan panted, his hole loosening, turning slick and eager under the cum’s influence. Eyes glassy, like he was riding a euphoric high, every touch amplified to bliss.

Cade sat on the toilet, cock jutting up like a challenge. Ryan straddled him without preamble, gripping the base and lining up. He plunged down hard, impaling himself in one brutal drop—gravity and desperation driving the massive shaft deep, stretching his rim to its limit. Cade gasped, hands flying to Ryan’s hips to steady him, worry spiking. ‘Easy. Fuck, you’re tight. Don’t hurt yourself.’ The Heat was intense, Ryan’s walls gripping like a vice, slick from the cum but unyielding in their fervor.

Ryan ignored him, slamming down again, rising only to crash back, the force bruising Cade’s balls, making him flinch. Each descent buried him to the hilt, Ryan’s ass swallowing every inch with a wet squelch, prostate grinding against the invading head. ‘Just… hurry up and cum,’ Ryan growled, rolling his hips viciously, chasing the end. His hands roamed up, fingers pinching Cade’s nipples, seemingly aware of how ultra-sensitive they were, live-wire peaks that made Cade buck involuntarily, pleasure shooting straight to his core.

‘Shit—those are… ah!’ Cade arched, the twists sending fire through his chest, nipples hardening to painful points under Ryan’s tongue, which lapped and sucked next, teeth grazing. Ryan’s mouth was relentless, tonguing the left bud while twisting the right, the dual assault making Cade’s cock swell thicker inside him.

Ryan rode harder, ass clenching rhythmically, the slick passage now a hypersensitive sheath that milked Cade with every plunge. Cum-smeared walls flexed, dragging over veins, the friction raw and consuming. Ryan’s own cock bounced between them, leaking steadily, untouched but throbbing from the overload—every nerve in his body alight, his hole like like molten silk, stretched and claimed. ‘Cum already. Fucking fill me, end this fucking Heat you asshole,’ he demanded between licks, twisting harder, making Cade whimper.

The pressure built fast, Cade’s control fraying under the assault. Ryan’s ass was a furnace, slamming down with athletic urgency, the boy-next-door facade shattered into pure, carnal need. Nipples ablaze, cock buried in that gripping heat. Cade shattered. ‘Fuck. Take it!’ He erupted, massive load surging deep, rope after rope flooding Ryan’s guts, hot and viscous, absorbing instantly.

Ryan cried out, his own release timed with Cade’s as he furious stroked his own cock, cum splattering Cade’s shirt as the pheromones cleared. Relief crashed over them, the air lightening, heat dissipating. Ryan lifted off with a slick pop, Cade’s cock emerging coated in pearly strands, still twitching. Ryan’s hole blinked, leaking slightly before clenching shut, the cum already working its magic.

Panting, Ryan grabbed paper towels, cleaning himself efficiently, wiping the cum from his ass, his spent dick, avoiding Cade’s eyes. The glassy haze faded to sharp anger, kind features hardening. He yanked up his pants, glaring down. ‘You fucking assholes should be fixed like dogs.’ He stalked out, door slamming behind him.

Cade sat there, stunned, cock softening in the cool air, cum drying on his skin. The encounter shook him. It was raw, mechanical, nothing like the tenderness with Jacob. Ryan’s resentment stung, a mirror to his own guilt. He cleaned up slowly, wiping the evidence, the bathroom echoing his ragged breaths. Two Heats in two days? That was impossible, rare even among Alphas. Something was wrong, stress, hormones, maybe even sick. He’d read once that certain illnesses could mess with Heats and pheromone production. The doctors would know for sure. He zipped up, splashing water on his face, avoiding his reflection.

The walk back to the dorm felt endless, campus alive with oblivious students. Cade just wanted a shower, hot water to wash away the cum, the shame, the confusion. He’d crash, sleep it off, pray no one, especially Jacob, crossed his path. This couldn’t keep happening.

But deep down, a traitorous part of him replayed Ryan’s tight heat, the forceful ride, nipples throbbing from the memory. It was impossible to hide that part of himself, the Alpha.

Jacob lounged on his bed when Cade slipped in. Cade mumbled an excuse about needing a rinse and vanished into the tiny shower stall. The water pounded, steam rising, as Cade soaped his body, fingers lingering on his spent cock, the sensitive nipples still tingling. He leaned against the tile, mind racing. Jacob’s reluctant moans, Ryan’s angry urgency, both etched in his flesh. What the hell was happening to him?

Outside, Jacob scrolled his feed, the twitch from morning long gone. One-time thing. That’s what he’d told himself. But as the shower ran, a faint curiosity stirred… what if it wasn’t?

Cade emerged, towel around his waist, water dripping from his muscled chest. He avoided Jacob’s eyes, collapsing onto his bed. ‘Rough class,’ he lied, pulling the covers over.

Jacob nodded, sensing the tension but letting it slide. The room fell quiet.

The day blurred into afternoon, Cade dozing fitfully, dreams tangled with thrusting hips and desperate pleas. He woke to Jacob’s laughter at some video, the normalcy jarring. ‘You good?’ Jacob asked, casual.

‘Yeah,’ Cade forced out, sitting up. ‘Just tired.’ But inside, confusion churned. He needed answers. He’d hit the clinic tomorrow, get his hormone levels and pheromone glands checked. For now, he buried it, chatting about football drills to fill the silence.

Dinner was takeout, eaten in companionable quiet, the previous night’s intimacy a ghost between bites. Jacob teased about track meets, Cade shared a lit anecdote from class about Homer’s heroes battling inner demons, mirroring his own turmoil. Laughter eased the edge, but Cade’s mind wandered to Ryan’s glare, the forceful mount that had left bruises on his thighs.

Night fell, lights out early. Cade lay awake, staring at the ceiling, cock half-hard from residual thoughts. Jacob’s breathing was even and calm across the room, oblivious. Cade’s hand drifted down, stroking lightly to relieve the ache without waking the room.

Sleep finally claimed him, but dawn brought no clarity. Another day, another risk.

*

Jacob looked over at Cade’s sleeping form. His sheets shifted and draped as he tossed in his sleep, revealing his shirtless body, his broad pecs and washboard abs rippling as he moved. He could even see the outline of his cock under the sheets.

And that was really it, wasn’t it? Jacob had been fighting off thoughts all day as he daydreamed through class about the taste of Cade’s cum on his tongue and the feel of Cade’s balls slapping against his ass. The sound it made. How it all fit together. And he realized; this probably isn’t something straight boys think about.

Ever since the Heat wore off and his body returned to normal, he’d realized he couldn’t get Cade’s body out of his head. And this time it wasn’t the pheromones talking. It was his own thoughts and desires, his own memories he wanted to rewind and replay a hundred times just to make sure they didn’t fade too quickly.

He knew he wasn’t gay. He still jerked off to sexts from his ex-girlfriend and loved it. But now he also wanted to jerk off staring at Cade…maybe use his abs like a ribbed sex toy. And there was no denying he was into both. All those years staring at guys in the locker room wasn’t comparing bodies; he was full-on checking them out. It was a bombshell revelation, but impossible to deny.

And he had Cade to thank for that, for opening him to this new part of himself he hadn’t let see the light of day for so long. It was only the second day of class, but he knew that this semester would be completely different than he’d imagined. College was for experimenting. If he kept an open mind and left himself open to exploring new possibilities, there was no telling where it would take him. Or, who would take him.

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Professor Nathan Winston was certainly not among the most hated professors at the college, but at the same time he was not among the most popular either. The man, now over forty, presented a rather bulky physique, of someone who had probably played some kind of sport in his youth, but who had let himself go for quiet a while now, with a full beard and not-too-long hair that was always perfectly trimmed, and two round-rimmed glasses surrounding two brown eyes. His black beard and hair were traced by gray streaks, which were becoming more frequent every passing year. He was a reasonable man, always ready to give a chance and offer a helping hand to students if they asked him, yet he had one flaw: he had a firm belief that his subject was the most important one ever. It did not matter what course the student was in, whether he took it because it was a mandatory or optional subject: if you gave his exam you had to be aware of the whole syllabus, down to the comma, without exception. This of course had meant that he had built up a certain reputation on campus, and those who took his course were always almost all people who had to give it as a mandatory exam. Of course, there were always exceptions, and every year there would turn up that half-dozen students who, for one reason or another, ended up taking it despite the rumors. Often these were either the stereotypical “bookworms” or people who dropped out after a short time to change the curriculum, realizing that these were not exaggerations and that the professor really did have that much conviction.

However, there was also an exception to the exception, in this case embodied by Randal Keyes.

Randal had entered college with an athletics-related scholarship and an ego the size of the campus. His various successes in sports, especially track, had made the young man particularly confident in his physical and social abilities. This was coupled with a pretty good brain and a body that turned the heads of the entire female population of the college. Auburn hair that was always perfectly groomed, a face with sharp features, runner’s build coupled with a height many called ideal, two gray eyes that penetrated right into the soul, and a dazzling, seductive smile had soon made him the idol of the crowds. Unfortunately, the cocky attitude, arrogance and laziness that always led him to seek the easy way out, had also made him a nightmare for whichever authority figure stood before him.

So why had lazy Randal Keyes decided to take a course as difficult as that of Professor Winston?

Class had now been in session for a good twenty minutes, and the only noise reigning inside the room was Professor Winston’s clear, deep voice and the rustling of pens on papers mixed with the clicking of computer keys.

The atmosphere of tense concentration was palpable, all the students were paying attention not to miss a single word of the man, knowing full well that he might even go so far as to ask for his exact sequence of words during the exam.

The atmosphere of religious silence was interrupted, however, when the classroom door was opened. Instantly Professor Winston’s voice froze as every single person’s eyes went to the doorway, where Randal’s figure stood still. The young man merely flashed one of his cocky smiles before casually making his way to one of the vacant seats toward the back rows of the classroom. Professor Winston merely gave him a glare before clearing his throat and resuming his explanation. Instantly the students collected themselves and resumed taking notes.

All except Randal, who merely settled back in his seat and then yawned and bowed his head on the desk. After a couple of minutes he was already snoring under his breath.

Finally the hour ended and the various students exited the classroom, politely saying goodbye to the teacher, who had now settled down at his desk and was checking the computer, responding to the greetings in passing. After everyone had left and the man had responded to a couple of e-mails from some colleagues, he raised his head and, displeased, saw that Randal was still in the classroom, peacefully asleep in his seat.

Immediately he took a deep breath as mixed feelings made their way through his head. To himself he was already wondering whether to leave before the young man woke up when  a grunting noise made him realize it was too late. Randal straightened up and stretched, yawning blatantly as he took to looking around. When his eyes landed on the professor he stopped and broke into a smile.

“Oops, I’m afraid I fell asleep,” he apologized as he stood up and raised his arms to do some stretching.

Professor Winston lowered his gaze to his desk again and took to putting his things away, “It would seem so. You should take the class more seriously. The fact that you came in twenty minutes later is also a problem.”

“I had to train. The regional championships are in a couple of weeks and I need to be at the top of my game.”

The man closed the bag and stood up, making the chair scrape on the floor, and then headed for the door without even looking in the young man’s direction, “Your scholarship depends on your grades, don’t forget that. Now you better hurry up, I don’t think you want to be late for your next class, have a nice day.”

He was almost at the door when a hand came between him and the exit and closed the door in front of his face. Before he could realize what was happening Randal stood between the two and smiled at him as the sound of the key turning announced that he had just locked them in. The man swallowed as his eyes accidentally met those of the younger man. An almost predatory light shone in the other’s gray irises as he pulled away from the door and approached him.

Instinctively the man recoiled, “Randal, I have to go, my wife-”

“Your wife is working and the children are at school. Relax, you have nothing to fear, I just want to have a chat.”

The young athlete kept moving forward, forcing him backward, until the professor slammed into the desk. The sudden impact and tension caused the man’s bag to slip out of his hand as he lost his balance. Before he knew it, professor Winston was sitting on the desk. Instantly Randal’s hand snapped and went to clasp around the tie, pulling him to himself until their faces were inches apart. The man swallowed without being able to tear his eyes away, as if hypnotized. Randal smiled and his features became almost sharp as a smile full of cruel amusement passed over his face.

“It hurts me to know that you think so little of me, professor. I came to class as soon as practice was over, I didn’t even have time to shower. Can’t you tell?”

In saying these things he pulled the tie slightly toward him, causing the man’s face to lower and bring it almost in contact with his shoulder. The man could smell the odor of sweat being emitted by the other, not too strong, but still enough to be noticeable. Without meaning to, he felt the familiar sensation of the mouth of his stomach closing as his breathing became more labored. As he did so, however, he kept on huffing in the musky and intense aroma, that kept on stirring something deep inside him.

Randal smiled and let go of the tie, then stepped away from him without looking away.

“Well well, would you look at that … It certainly seems that our dear professor needs a little more concrete proof of my current state.”

Nathan could not speak, the words stuck in his throat that refused to come out, even when Randal blatantly removed his shirt, exposing his trained chest. The young man approached again and raised his arm above his head, uncovering his armpit, “Come on professor, why don’t you check it out? The proof of my hard work”

Almost as if in a trance the man bent his head toward him. Even from that distance he could feel the whiff of sweat, much clearer than before, reaching his nostrils and, as a now natural reaction, he felt his cock hardening as salivation began to increase. Part of him wanted to sink his face into the student’s armpit and taste the other’s skin with his tongue and nose, but still another part weakly resisted those instincts, causing him to freeze halfway, a conflicted expression on his face.

Faced with his hesitation Randal lost patience. He huffed and with one hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed him forward, thus pressing him into his armpit. The man stiffened and struggled for a couple of seconds, except to give up after a while and relax, his nostrils filling with the aphrodisiac smell.

Randal chuckled as he raised his arm even higher to allow the other to bury his nose in it better: “That’s it, good pig. Inhale properly. You like it, don’t you? My real man smell turns you on, doesn’t it? Come on, breathe in, take big mouthfuls, enjoy my scent. Oh, what a resourceful pig, even with your tongue, huh? Clean me up good, use it for once for something useful instead of just babbling.”

Professor Winston had stuck out his tongue and was enthusiastically licking his armpit, his labored breaths trying to hold the other’s scent in his nostrils as much as possible. He looked like an animal in heat, and by now his erection was so visible that the entire crotch area of his pants was tense almost to the point of bursting.

The teacher did not even seem able to think anymore, his brain registering only the other’s masculine musk and his words of degradation.

Finally after another couple of minutes, in which the only noise to be heard throughout the classroom were the teacher’s moans and his tongue licking the younger man’s sweat, Randal pulled away, pushing him away.

By now the man’s legs could no longer support him, and he fell to the floor in an almost drunken state, unable even to speak. The student watched him for a couple of seconds before chuckling and taking his place on top of the desk and then removing his shoes and remaining only with his socks on. That single gesture seemed to reactivate the professor, who began sniffing the air before struggling to his knees, his eyes glued to the other’s feet. Similar to a zombie he crawled closer. Randal chuckled before lifting one foot and placing the sole directly on the other’s face. The man took a deep breath as his hands went to the foot to press it firmly against him, sniffing it with transport.

“What a pig. If only your wife could see you now, the proud and composed Nathan Winston, her own husband, reduced to a pig who gets off on being degraded and put under the foot of one of his own students. You can try to hide it all you want, but we both know that this is your true self.”

After these words he broke away from the professor, who followed him like a thirsty man whose water had been taken away, only to remove his socks and remain barefoot. Instantly the man’s gaze lit up and he crawled up to take a foot in his hand and begin licking and sucking it, sniffing it with transport.

Randall sighed blissfully and then pulled down the elastic of his pants and underpants. Instantly his hard cock popped out, the tip a sporting already a generous dose of pre. While the professor was busy worshiping his feet in a kind of mystical crisis, the young man took to slowly jerking off in front of that sight, all without taking his eyes off the other.

By now the professor was unrecognizable from about ten minutes earlier: his usually perfect salt-and-pepper hair was sweaty and disheveled, his glasses were askew on his nose, his jacket had been abandoned a few feet away while his tie hung untied down his neck and his shirt was open revealing his hairy chest. The man’s eyes were pervaded by a maddening light, and all his attention was solely on Randal’s feet. He was desperate, hungry, completely lost behind the student… and Randal was perfectly fine with that.

He sneered before taking the juicy prizes out of the man’s mouth and then putting a foot under his chin and raising his face, forcing the teacher to look up at him.

“You’re so pathetic you’re cute – he murmured only as he looked down at the sweaty, spit-soaked face – I’ve let you have your fun, now however it’s time for me to have mine too – he jumped down from the desk and positioned himself to the side before looking at him and pointing with his chin at the desk – Come on. You know what to do.”

The man was clearly reluctant and was staring at him as if to beg him not to do it, at which Randal rolled his eyes in annoyance before leaning down and cupping his cheeks with one hand and growling at him, “Listen to me: I didn’t do all this shit just to be denied my prize, you little bitch. Now we can take this one of two ways: you do as I say and let me have my fun and then we’ll go our separate ways, or I’ll let your dear little wife and school board members have the evidence I’ve gathered about your cheating and pastimes. I don’t think the missus and those fucking conservative old codgers would be very happy about that, what do you say, huh? So what’s your choice, slut?”

Hearing those words the man stiffened before bowing his head defeated and getting up. Carefully, he removed his shirt and also his pants, remaining only with his boxers, where a dark spot had formed in his crotch area. Professor Winston took a deep breath before removing his garment and remaining completely naked, his hard cock pointing skyward. He let Randall observe him for a couple of seconds – the younger man had let him know several times that he appreciated him giving him a couple of moments to study him before moving on to the “main course” – after which he turned and bent over, resting his elbows on the surface of the desk and displaying his ass to the other.

Randall nodded smugly, “Good pig.”

With that said, he walked over and knelt down behind the man. With his hands he patted his side and, like a perfectly trained dog, the man rested his chest on the desk and then brought his hands to his buttocks and parted them nicely, exposing his asshole to the air.

“Mhm, what an appetizing donut. And after this morning’s workout, I’m really hungry,” murmured the young man, and then leaned down and unceremoniously buried his face between the ass cheeks and took to eating his ass. Instantly a rush of pleasure ran through Nathan’s spine, as he arched his back and began moaning and panting, like an animal in heat. Randal smiled and with his hands separated his ass even more as his tongue went deeper and deeper, past the muscles and penetrating him mercilessly.

After a good five minutes of tasting and moaning the younger man broke off, wiped his mouth with one hand, and stood up. He took off his pants and jockstrap remaining naked, spit first on his hand and then on the man’s ass, and moistened his cock. Once he was sure, he put one hand on the man’s hip – who in the meantime was slumped against the desk, his glasses lost, his breathing heavy and his eyes completely out of phase – and with the other he aimed his dick properly. He gently rested the tip against the hole and teased it lightly, but never penetrated him. This simple gesture seemed to awaken something inside the professor, who raised his ass as high as he could and moved it slightly, in a silent invitation to do what he wanted with him. Randal smiled, but, before doing as he was told, he picked up his own sweaty, pre-dirty jockstrap, balled it up tightly, forced Professor Winston’s mouth open, and shoved it firmly into his mouth, smearing it tightly against his face. The man let the other do it, and even reveled in the aroma of the younger man’s soiled underwear. Randal took one last look as his professor’s desperate face, nodded in satisfaction and then focused back on his main target. He positioned himself properly, took aim, and unceremoniously penetrated him.

The teacher’s screams and moans were drowned out by the improvised gag. The jock only nodded in front of those lustful sounds, his cock throbbing inside the man’s hole, before he pulled his hips back a little and then gave a new thrust, burying a little more of his cock inside the teacher’s ass. Slowly he took to going back and forth, always hitting the other man’s prostate with precision, bringing him gradually closer and closer to orgasm but never giving him a chance to cum.

By now Professor Winston was completely gone and behind him he had left only a slut in heat eager to be filled and used by a real man like Randal and then thrown away like a broken sex toy. He was not a human being, at that moment he was a hole whose only purpose was to serve alpha males and intoxicate himself with their aroma. He took another breath of the jockstrap in his mouth while at the same time sucking on it.

Finally Randal decided that the other was properly prepared, pulled his hips back until only the tip was left in, and then, in one violent motion, put it in all the way to the base.

Even through the gag he could hear the moan of pure pleasure that came from the professor, who with that intrusion also came on the spot, wetting the side of the desk with fresh cum.

After that gesture Randal let the man adjust to his size for a couple of seconds and then began to forcefully pound him, grunting like an animal in heat, spanking him from time to time and encouraging him in a low voice.

“Oh yes, you have such a tight hole, I’ll never get tired of your skills. Oh yes, oh yes… Ngh, you like it, huh whore? You like to feel a real man filling you up. I bet by now you can’t even jerk off without shoving something up your ass. I should get a chastity belt and lock your cock in it, you don’t use it anymore anyway. The only thing you need to achieve pleasure is your hole. You should drop the teaching thing and go into the slut business, you would be much more successful and you would replace the broom you have perpetually up your ass with something much more pleasurable. Oh yes, slut, moan for me, let me know how much you want me. I’m about to cum, are you ready to receive my milk? Are you ready to feel a real man inside you, bitch? Because here. I. Come!”

With a roar he buried himself completely inside him and came, filling him so full of cum that some escaped from the hole and ran down the teacher’s legs. The pressure was so intense that Professor Winston came a second time along with his student.

After having climaxed, Randal abandoned himself on the man’s back, where they both caught their breath, basking in the peace of the afterglow. After a couple of minutes Nathan felt the other move and remove the jockstrap from his mouth. Too tired to do anything he let him do it, convinced that he would take his things and leave him there, but instead Randal surprised him by leaning over and taking to making out with him. The man opened his eyes wide in surprise but allowed himself to be led into that intense exchange of spit.

After a couple more seconds of intense and sloppy spit swapping, finally, the student moved away, straightened up and let his own cock out with a liquid “plop” from the man’s ruined hole, causing the newly deposited cum to run down his legs. He then reached into his backpack and pulled out some clean clothes and began to change.

The man watched him still half dazed, unable to fully think again about what had just happened. He only recovered when he felt something being placed on the desk. Shifting his head he saw that it was clothes. After a couple more seconds he realized that it was his own clothes. Surprised he pulled himself up – stopping for a second from the pain coming from his ass, he would surely walk funny for the rest of the week – he put his glasses back on and looked in the direction of the student, who was now at the door.

Noticing him, the other merely shrugged his shoulders, “I took them the last time I was at your house. You really should remember to always take a change of clean clothes with you, I always do that. If you’re not careful there’s a risk that people will start asking questions.”

“T-thank you, Randal” stammered only the man.

Faced with thanks, the jock merely sneered, “I certainly don’t want our fun to end like this. If you get into trouble there is a risk that I will too, don’t read anything else into it, am I clear? And now you’d better clean up, we certainly don’t want to let the whole campus know that strict Professor Nathan Winston is nothing more than a desperate cocksucking whore willing to spread his legs for anyone who shows a little pulse, do we? See you next week, teach, or sooner if I feel like getting some more of your attention,” and with one last laugh he opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him,

Completely red in the face, Professor Winston took to swearing under his breath and cursing the day he had first crossed paths with Randal Keyes. He got up and picked his clothes, using the dirty ones to clean up the mess left by their intense meeting. He then went to open the windows to ventilate the classroom and put on his clean clothes.

He was doing one final check that everything was okay when he saw that there was something on the floor near the desk. He bent down and picked it up. His eyes widened as he recognized Randal’s dirty jockstrap, the one he had used to gag him while they were fucking.

He stood there, dumbfounded, unsure on what to do with the pair of cumstained underwear. Part of him wanted to grab them and shove them inside his backpack. and then get rid of them later on, and that would have been the easiest and less complicated solution.

Another part of him just wanted to throw it away and never think of it ever again, not caring if someone find it.

But…

Another part of him, the part that was now missing Randal thick shaft violating his ass and his sultry voice calling him a slut, was whispering him to just keep it, telling him to just embrace and do what he actually wanted to do since the first moment he picked them up.

The professor gulped, before slowly bringing the fabric to his face and taking a deep breath. The smell of sweat and cum immediately went to his head, making him instantly hard.

With a lump in his throat he put the jockstrap inside his backpack, in a hidden pocket, and walked out of the classroom, the only thought going through his mind was to go home, lock himself in the bathroom and jerk off with the item, Randal’s voice and laughter ringing in his ears, the knowledge that the young man now had him completely in his power.

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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All depicted activities and individuals are fully consenting adults and are at least 18 years old at all times.

 My name is Rodney. I was so perfectly named. What a fucking Emo-Femboy nerd I am! You could look up all the most famous emo nerd femboy porn stars; I could easily sub in for them cock and all. About 5 ft 9, weighing at a scant twinkly 135lbs soaking wet. Muscles… not really, but being so thin, there is definition due to the lack of fat. I have gained some recently, as for fun, I took a few Taekwondo classes just before school, and grad was done.

I am not ugly or bad-looking, but Nerdy takes the crown; some think me cute, sweet, and a total Femboy, with brown eyes, short brown hair, and good teeth. Most of high school, I knew I was not into girls, but being so in love with IT and AI, I have not had sex with anything…except for myself.

I am a virgin still at 18. The only looks I ever got were from the jocks in high school during shower time after gym. Well, I did turn heads with my lovely soft 7” cut thick dick, hard she gets up to almost 11” and boy oh boy if they could see me cum! I look weird in the mirror with such a lean skeletal body, with the anaconda for a cock. So rambling jerk off is all I do (after 18 of course!).

I had already been accepted into a renowned Ontario University to complete my Master’s degree in IT. That would be starting in the fall, in a few months. Now I must survive the summer again, which I dread. I have a few friends, and they’re all nerds like me. Gay…not sure…. Friends, Gay… maybe, but not sure. No moves, no fucking anything…just me, my hand, and my big cock coating the mirror nightly. I like to lick it off and slurp it up!

Dreading that I was an only child, I now realized that this summer, for two months, my parents and I would be vacationing with my uncle John and aunt Sue. They have three children, my first cousins: Butch, Abigail and Olivia.

Like, how the fuck do you name your younger daughters such wholesome, clean, pure, innocent names after having named your eldest Butch! Are you fucking kidding me! Well, he was aptly titled. Butch was a high school and all-star college football champ. He stands a towering 6FT 3” and maybe 185Lbs or so—solid muscle from head to toe, ripped wash boards and pecs. Handsome and hot do not even come close to his looks. Blonde hair, blue eyes, but a total alpha macho stud; actually, more of a bully too. Every prior visit, I was near drowned or wrestled into submission or forced to eat dirt and …well, you get the picture. He had no brother and needed someone to pick on, so…why not Cousin Rodney! Fuck!!

Our four parents are all high school teachers, hence the summer off – must be nice! Last Fall, Uncle John and Aunt Sue bought a new summer home/cottage up at the edge of Lake Huron, just south of Kincardine, right on the lake shore. I saw pics online. Not bad; three beds, two baths, kitchen, great room, Fireplace, sunroom. Big private pool as well.

The detached garage is to hell and gone, way in the fuck, halfway between the driveway entrance and the main big house; so nearly 100 feet from the road and another 100 feet from the house. On the other side of the house, on the lake shore, another 100 feet or so.

Sort of cool but scary was that room above the garage. Two windows faced outward, opposite the house, toward the lot’s dense forest, with some skylights. A staircase led up to it from the lower triple garage interior—a locked door at the bottom of the stairs and another locked at the top.  The open-concept A-frame ceiling is entirely in pine, with giant 8X8-inch crossbeams about 9 feet high, rising from the dark oak hardwood floor. The walls are all painted white. It looked like there was a three-piece bath with a six-foot-by-six-foot shower, toilet, and sink. Not bad!

Then I heard the news. Mom (Rachel) and Dad (Mike) told me I would be sleeping with Butch, who has taken over the loft room above the garage with a big king-size bed. The other bedroom in the main house is the guest room where they would be sleeping. Of course, Uncle John and Aunt Sue are in their master bedroom, and the girls share the other…so I had really no choice.

Butch was now 20 and still had a few years left in college. I also was told that for three or four weekends, Butch and I would be alone, as for some fucked up reason, my parents and Aunt and uncle all thought they needed to accompany the girls on other summer college tours, as they had multiple College offers from Windsor to Ottawa and likely would stay and visit those random three or four cities for extended weekends….great….Fuck!

So, a few weeks later, we finally arrived at the lake. We all exchanged pleasantries, and Butch, being Butch, did his customary knuckle rub on my head and gut punch and ass slap, always giggling.

Aunt Sue said, “Come on now, Butch! You promised to be nice to Rodney!”

Butch answered, “Ok, Ok, Mom. Sorry, Rod, grab your crap and follow me to the mancave above the garage.” He pounded his chest like a mindless baboon. Like really??

He was quiet on the walk, so I started a conversation. “So how are things with you and Courtney?”

He was quiet and did not answer. So, I asked, “Hey, did you hear me? What is going on with you and Courtney?”

Butch suddenly throws me into the tree and presses my shoulders hard against it, squishing my knapsack into the bark, pinning me with his Alpha power strength, “Don’t fucking ask me about that fucking bitch cunt Courtney ever again. We are done, and it’s fucking over…thank God!

I shook in fear and trepidation, “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I did not know! I apologize!”

“What the fuck ever, “he replied. I was silent and huffing and puffing. We finally made it to the garage. Uncle John was a metal and wood shop teacher, so the three-car garage was ½ filled with steel bits and sheets, chains of all lengths and sizes, clip joiners, various hooks, and every type of hardware piece imaginable, along with every power tool ever made—pretty much a mini version of his teaching life. Aunt Sue was a seamstress and fashion designer, so there was lots of fabric, cloth, leather hides, and grommet-making shit, so she had her life there as well.   

Butch unlocked the lower door and led the way up the staircase; as soon as he unlocked the upper door, I was suddenly hit with a bit of locker-room gym-shower scent. Well, should I be surprised—Not; I got a bit turned on to the man musky almost anal pheromones.

He said short and sharply. There is just one bed, and mom says we must share it, so no fucking bitching, ok. You get the wall side, and I get the outside. I piss a lot at night from my health, sports drinks, and protein shakes.”

I answered, “Fine, but I piss too, so I will try my best to scoot out the bottom of the bed gingerly and not wake you…at least it is a nice king-size bed, so lots of room; we can put pillows between us.”

“Pillows!?! Why the fuck would we need pillows? We are both young men, so like what the fuck dude! No, and we sleep in the raw, or you sleep outside. If you have a problem with that, then I can kick your ass right fucking now! Little Faggot Queer! Pillows! Why the fuck do we need Pillows? He threw my sack on the far side against the wall. He headed to the shower in the corner near the stairs’ door, which I saw had no door on it.

Without saying a word, he entered, peeled off his tight white shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted male form with armpit hair darker than his gorgeous long blond locks, peeled off his shoes and socks, and then down came his jeans. I almost fucking died! He had on an Andrew Christian Thong!

Even though I was not sure which way I was swinging, having done nothing with nobody except myself, jerking off and watching porn. I loved especially the best gay website, GayDemon, with all its extraordinary stories and website links to hundreds of thousands of bits of jerk-off-tainment written and video! But my point is, Andrew Christian wear is solely for Gay guys! What the fuck was I missing! Alpha Butch Queer??? Huh???

My mind went right back as I unpacked, finding a few empty drawers for my clothes, but I soon glanced into the bath to see Butch there in full frontal nudity! Holy shit! I thought my cock was the biggest in the land, but he pretty much clocked out at almost the same length and thickness, a near clone with his nice dark bush. I kept leaning back, staring, searching my honest thoughts and felt my cock getting chubby. How could I get turned on with someone who has always been so abusive and treated me like shit, and just moments ago, almost clocked me for saying something I had no idea was wrong?

Fuck! He just caught me staring; he stroked and pretended to wash his big dick and balls, all just like mine. We had never seen each other nude in our entire lives. Suddenly, he yelled out,

“Like what you see, little dick Faggot!  Rodney has a little dick! Rodney has a little dick! Rodney has a Little Dick!”

He kept it up and up until finally I just walked to the shower doorway, feeling my cock getting harder by the second and my cock tip running with precum all over, peeled off my shoes, socks, shirt and pulled down my loose jeans with my ass to his face. Then my CK Undies came down. My cock was rock hard; I felt the line of pre-cum fling up and whip over my face. Butch was still repeating the insult over and over. I turned around fully naked and erect, and all I saw and heard was…. “Rodney has a…!” He stopped dead in his tracks and just stared, eyes the size of tires.

The sexual tension was unreal as he was half hard, washing and stroking, but I was fully raging and swollen. I have not been this rock hard and engorged ever! The water cascaded over his perfectly toned body. His silence and stare spoke volumes as his penis swelled. We both did not move. The water was running over him; my penis dripped pre-cum onto the wood floor, reflecting in the large mirrors.

Finally, I spoke, “I’d best shower also to save time; super will be soon, move over, Butch!” By the time I was there under the water beside him, his penis was like marble and oozing pre-cum as well. I turned to get under the spray when our hard penises struck; we both shuddered and gasped. I let out a giggle.

He said, “You think this is funny?”

“Why don’t you go back to washing your cock and balls, and I will go back to washing my monster cock and huge fucking balls,” I said. He was frozen and speechless; his mouth opened as he leaned back; I locked onto his gorgeous blue eyes. I lifted my mouth a bit to him, yearning for a kiss, when suddenly I saw his rage again.

He forcefully threw me against the tile wall, turning my face to the cold ceramic barrier, grabbed my arms behind me and pressed me hard to the corner. I shuddered as he bit my neck while simultaneously thrusting–I don’t know how many fingers up my hole. I have only put a few fingers up my hole while jerking off…not even a fucking dildo or anything ever. The pain and pressure were incredible and foreign. His firm, muscular chest pressed hard against my lean, boyish twink back as he whispered, almost a growl,

“I am going to Fuck you, Rodney, and you will take it like a man, do you hear me, boy? If you dare tell anyone, you have no idea what I will do to you!” I was silent. My head was spinning, and my cock pressed up hard against the cold, ceramic wetness. Suddenly, I felt his wet glans press against my anal hole. My mind was scared of losing my virginity to lose it like this, to the brute of Butch. Yet at the same time, my ass was saying yes! I have never felt like I really wanted a man’s penis in me until now. Sure, I jerked off to Gay porn…but sometimes straight porn too. Oh Fuck! OMG! His penis tip is in me. Fuck, the pain is unreal! No Lube, just his precum. Oh Fuck! Now he started to thrust deeper. The pain, I had to scream out.

“Oh Fuck! Butch, please wait! It fucking hurts too much. Please wait! Get something! Lube or spit! Oh Fuck please stop a second!! The pain! It’s too much Fuck wait!” He reached out and grabbed a towel, stuffed it in my mouth and pressed my head and body to the corner of the cold tiles. He continued his assault harder and faster. I was wincing, moaning, and groaning with excruciating pain. He kept pounding me with all his Alpha might. I decided I had to relax and just let him dominate and fuck me as this, or my ass would be in pieces. Well, that was the best piece of head advice I’ve ever given myself.

After a few muffled breaths through the bubbling, wet towel with a mild-bleach taste, the pain finally eased. The best move I could have made was to start pushing back. As soon as I did, Butch removed the towel, allowing it to drop to the floor. Suddenly, his massive penis, like mine, started easily hitting spots in my ass that I never knew existed. The pain became a pleasant sensation. I felt I wanted it deeper and ravenous harder like an attacking animal. What the fuck am I saying? There was something in me that needed to open. It felt as if he went just a few more inches; it would actually feel incredible and so much better.

I begged, “Butch, you can breed and cum in my hole, but please, I just need to change the angle a bit to get you deeper and deeper; then can you pound me balls deep until your trimmed pubes are scratching my anal ring?”

Well, this was the trick; he answered, “Ok, Twerp Fine!” He obliged and backed away, some with his almost as big as mine cock in my ass. He still had a few inches to go as that third curve hole had to be aligned just right, or so I thought, thinking back to grade 9 health class. Finally, space to bend, and I did so.

I turned my back to his angry head and begged, “Fuck my ass, you hot Alpha Jock! Balls deep, give me your hot cum load, cousin! Break my hole harder, please, harder! Faster, Butch; come on now, do it fuck hard as you can, you Greek God! Fuck me! Fuck me!” I sounded stupid, but I was so horny to get fucked for the first time.

OMG! That is it! The pleasure as I felt him bash through the next section. I threw my head back with a sensation that made being Gay the best choice any man could ever make. I knew in my head then that only a real man can sexually please another man, it’s like this! He released my arms as he saw my willing reception. I was now pounding back with my hands on the cold tile walls, almost pushing my Alpha jock Cousin back to the shower taps and faucet. He grabbed my hips as I screamed,

“Drive it home, Butch Breed my hole! Harder! Faster!” I pleaded. Never in all my porn watching did I ever imagine it would feel like this! I could feel the cum building, and my prostate was the size of a fucking baseball!

Butch cried out, “Here it cums! Take it, you faggot anal slut!” As soon as I felt his pounding, hard cock fill my asshole so deep with the pelting, powerful splashes of his orgasm and ejaculation, I was in total bliss and rapture.

My penis exploded stream after stream, squirting and bouncing up the cold tiles and running down. The cum that flew out of me was so hot; the volume was something I had never achieved. Butch continued to thrust as his massive, hot seed filled my hole. Turning around, seeing his gorgeous face in the throes of ejaculation in me made me feel so powerful, so manly.

Finally, I was home. I no longer felt like a nerd or geek; I was a man! I just got fucked and bred and got the most extraordinary machoistic man I know to cum in my hole with a joy and pleasure I knew he had never achieved with any girl…. or guy…. before!

We dripped with sweat and panted marathon breath. He pulled out his cock; again, angry, he was.

“Fucking dirty nerdy boy! You’ve got shit on my cock!” I turned and said, “I will clean it, sir.”

He mumbled, “You better clean me!”  I grabbed the soap and lathered his slightly softened huge cock; still, mine was totally erect with the excitement. I was begging for more. I did not even care that we were to get caught. I washed his dick with lots of soap and washed my feces clean from his slowly deflating penis. He kept staring at my raging cock and finally asked,

“Is that not your cum on the shower wall? Why are you still hard?”

“Oh, Sir. I can go several times, maybe even 5 or 6 in a row, before I lose my erection. My cum and semen…well, for a nerdy dirty boy, it is endless!” Butch gasped and was speechless…staring at my titanium penis and then my eyes, back and forth he went over and over with his mouth open in disbelief.

Suddenly, he ran to the towels and said, “Not a word, or you will be so sorry!”

I answered, “Never, Sir, I promise!” Fuck me! I felt so powerful; he thinks he dominates me! Fuck man, in my mind I just fucking seduced him. I was the one in control the entire time. I enter upon my own volition, wishing exactly all that came, and all that hot man-cum.

He dried off and grabbed his clothes, dressed and sat on a chair watching me finish showering and cleaning my asshole. I turned the sprayer to a low flow stream and pressed it hard against my hole as I felt my rectum fill with water increasingly. Then I blasted out my shit and his copious cum all over the shower floor. Butch just stared in absolute shock and awe. I repeated three times until I was so fucking clean with crystal clear explosions. Then I washed with soap repeatedly and returned to washing my still steel-hard cock.

As he was in a trance again, I stroked and pumped as fast and hard as I could, pointing my huge cock to the mirror over the sink, where I could see his sitting reflection with his mouth wide open in disbelief.

In ten seconds, I cried out and threw my head back and shot another massive load all over the mirror; gobs and gobs and gobs of my hot semen were everywhere, dripping down like a CSI scene.

Butch hollered, “You better clean that shit up right fucking now!” I got out naked and licked and slurped up my semen and ejaculation, swallowing and sucking down my throat. I giggled when I saw in the half-steamed mirror that Butch leaned forward and made a whimper. He just came again in his pants watching me. I never felt so strong, dominant and peaceful.

He yelled, “Fucking hurry up and get dressed before I kick your fucking ass Faggot!”

I walked out dripping wet with cum all over my face and hair; I proceeded to walk down the stairs naked. Butch panicked, ran and grabbed my arm, and scolded me, growling, hauling me up with one powerful arm,

“What the fuck are you doing…are you fucking Crazy Faggot!”

I sternly answered, “I promised Sir to never speak of this ever; ever, Butch! But! First cousin, buddy, if you do not shut the fuck up and stop the faggot abuse and violence! I am going to go straight to our Mommies and Daddies and tell them how you just fucked your smaller, weaker, nerdy, barely 18-year-old, younger cousin and filled me with your sperm in my bum as I bled, seeing I was forced in the corner and could not escape your power over me!”

“Nnnnnooooo No No! No Pleaase No!!!Please Rod! No Please…..Ok, ok, ok! You fucking promised you liar!” He was nearly in cardiac arrest, so terrified.

I came back up as he held my arm firmly. I said, “OK, Butch! Calm down; Here is the deal! You just broke my anal virginity. It fucking really hurt! Like so fucking bad!”

He sat down and said somberly and teary, “I am so sorry, Rod, I just….I…..I love anal sex as an alpha top with anything, anyone and…and…well…Courtney refused to bottom anally; it hurt too much with my big cock. She caught me in my dorm at school with a freshman college boy; I was balls deep in him; she threatened to tell the entire football team and campus I was Gay…but I am not…I mean, I like, and I mean…well…I don’t know…I find the anus so much more exciting, whether it is a girl or a boy, or Fuck, it’s just so beautiful, I think and…I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. I really loved that; it was a lot of fun, Rod.” He had a few tears.

I answered, “It did hurt Butch…a lot at first. But I just had the most tremendous two cum blows of my entire fucking life, with deep sensations in my hole that I never dreamed possible; so here is the deal. I loved it after I loosened. I will try to be clean as much as I can inside, but you are going to fuck me and I mean Fuck me even harder than that was big boy, whenever and wherever I say for the next two months.

I will order some online private shit to be delivered here in my name, so this will be a little more pleasant fun for both of us. I think that’s clear; and if you’re a good boy Butch, if you find the asshole of anything so much more exciting, you can eat my clean hole just like a girl’s pussy…would you like that, kissing cousin?” I leaned in with sexy fuck me girly looks.

He was almost convulsing now, suddenly he leapt for my mouth; we sucked face so wildly as he let go a lifelong yearning and desire, Twirling and swirling our tongues wildly, spit and saliva pouring. Fuck he tasted good.  

Suddenly, we heard Aunt Sue at the bottom of the Stairs, “Are you boys cumming?” Oh Fuck!!!

I shut the door as Butch yelled, “Yeah, Mom, we are cumming! We’re just cleaning up and will go down in a heartbeat!” I took my hands to cover my mouth from laughter. She yelled, ok, well, supper’s getting cold, so hurry it up!”

I answered, “Going down right now, Aunt Sue!”

We quickly cleaned the cum off me and my hair, got all dressed and headed for supper. For the first time in my 18 years with Big Brute Alpha Cousin Butch, we laughed and giggled…so scared I was of this summer here; it seems it might be a dream cum true!

I can hardly wait for tonight; after supper, we had been promised a swim in the pool and then a beach fire. I knew Aunt Sue loved to bake. The lube and stuff to order will take days…I wonder if she has a spare stick of Crisco we could steal?