Date: Sat, 16 Jan 2016 14:08:22 +0000 From: Bruce Demosthenes Subject: Dominated by the boy next door 21 Try to give $1 per rope of cum you shoot reading my stories (any more ask them to send the balance to me). This is where you contribute: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html As I was making breakfast, Peter came down, having put on the same white Calvin Klein boxerbriefs he had worn the day before. He clearly hadn't showered but it was a Saturday after all and he was probably hung over. Entering the kitchen Peter asked "did you enjoy getting fucked?" I didn't know how to answer as he had clearly set things up with that boy last night, had even come on the room midway and watched me being fucked but this morning had not wanted the boy touching me. When I didn't answer Peter said "I figured you deserved a reward as that party had to be stressful." "It was," I acknowledged, thankful not having to talk about being fucked so taking the other line of conversation being offered. "There were a lot of drunk people," I pointed out. "I am still worried that everyone got home safe and no one got in trouble with their parents and would say where they got drunk." "This is the crowd I used to party with every weekend," Peter explained. "They party hard but they know the rules. You crash at other people's houses when their parents are away and no one will ever tell if they got caught." I wasn't so sure about how hard and fast these rules were and whether or not they would protect me but I let it go. "So you seemed to like getting fucked," Peter said, turning the conversation back to the boy. Not wanting to talk about it but not being given a way to avoid it altogether I ventured a mild misdirection that was on topic but didn't address his question: "I didn't see that boy at the party". "He wasn't," confirmed Peter. "His name is Ian in case you want to know the name of the boy who fucked you, though I hear fags are so promiscuous they don't care to take names of people they give their asses to. I ran into him at the park and thought you two might hit it off." I ignored the taunt about us gay people being sluts and his disingenuous suggestions that Ian and I somehow had 'hit it off'. "Why were you at the park," I asked. "You had a party here." "I went to the park to get blown by one of the girls I used to hook up with," he said, which made me feel a rush of jealousy. "Why didn't you take her upstairs," I asked, once the pang of jealousy passed. Peter had taken over my life and my home. Why wouldn't he use my bedroom to fuck one of his tramps (damn I was really feeling jealousy, I was calling some girl who I had never met who was Peter's age a tramp in my head)? "It didn't seem fair to you," Peter said, "which is too bad because she wanted me to fuck her. I had to settle for a blow job in the park and she isn't nearly as good at sucking cock as you." Bizarrely that made me feel better - saying I was good at sucking his cock made me feel pride and the fact he hadn't used my bedroom made me feel a little less jealous - though I still felt sad that Peter was having sex with anyone other than me (even though we were talking about my having been fucked by another boy). "Ian was involved with your having sex with this girl," I asked more out of confusion than any interest to know what Peter had been up to. "No, he was drinking with his friends," Peter said, giving an 'of course not' look with his face. It took a moment for this to sink in as I was still fixating on the fact Peter had gone with a girl to the park to have sex while I was hosting a party of high school kids I didn't want to throw and for which I still might be arrested give the level of intoxication of these kids. "Why wasn't Ian at your party," I eventually asked, making the point of saying the boy's name as if we actually knew each other now though we had barely spoken, he had just fucked me because Ian and thrown him at me and left having witnessed Ian raping my throat that morning. "First it was 'your' party," he said sternly, to which I replied "yes sir." "Say it, I don't want you to hesitate if my father asks," Peter said more forcefully. "It was my party, sir," I responded obediently, then adding sarcastically. "You weren't even there sir, you were in the park with some girl." Peter ignored my jealousy motivated barb and went on. "Second, he is two years behind me at school." It took a second for that to sink in because I was revelling the dig I had made about him being in the park with a girl. But it finally sunk in. He is two years behind Peter at school. That meant I had been fucked by a 14 year old. OMG! As the look of realization washed over my face Peter smirked. He then continued: "Ian is always following me around at school. We are friendly, but I wasn't going to invite him to the party. We don't move in the same circles. It's high school man, you don't party with grade 9 kids. Plus it would put you at risk serving someone so young liquor." Peter seemed to be enjoying my discomfort at the realization that we were discussing a 14 year old boy who had fucked me. I was starting to get angry. How thoughtful. Peter will make me serve liquor to 16 year olds but wasn't going to have me give liquor to anyone so young as 14, a boy he was willing to have fuck me for which I would go to prison (I think there is only a fine for serving liquor to a minor and while sucking Peter's cock was likely a crime too he was almost an adult, he certainly had an adult size cock). While I was trying to justify my behaviour and defensively dissecting the irrationality of his thinking, it occurred to me there is an arbitrariness to the law when it comes to minors so the fact a 16 year old would have his own arbitrary limits of right and wrong made sense. And probably objectively liquor has more realistic consequences for a 14 year old than his shoving his cock into my ass. Was this how my mind now worked, where I justified everything? The bottom line was I had been fucked by a 14 year old kid. "What made you invite him back to the house then sir," I asked tentatively (all anger stripped away as the depth of my crime sink in). I was truly mortified that he had offered my ass to someone so young and I had let him. I had been fucked by a 14 year old kid. Peter explained "when I came out of the bushes he and his friends were just finishing drinking. I guess he thought I had been cruising for fags who, as you probably know, hang out in the park, because he came over, told me he was gay, and offered to suck my cock. Do you cruise for cock in the park like the other fags?" I ignored Peter's accusation, though if he had pressed I would have had to admit I have had sex in that park. It is a well-known cruising ground. I hadn't realized it was also a place where 14 year old kids snuck off the drink which was troubling on several levels. Defensively I tried to turn the tables on Peter and said "I guess you didn't want him to blow you because you had just cum." Peter ignored the implications and said in all seriousness "of course not, he looks up to me and if I crossed that line with him it would complicate thing. I knew it was liquor talking but I didn't want him to regret 'coming out' to me so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone. I could show him it's alright to be gay and put you out of your misery so I brought him over to your place." I was actually struck by Peter's sensitivity for this boy. Of course if he truly cared about his emotional development as a gay boy he probably shouldn't have called me 'queer' and 'bitch' and face fucked me in front of the kid. And what did he mean about putting me out of my misery? "As you know I don't care who sucks my cock, I let a fag like you do it regularly, but if I let him fool around with me he will form an emotional attachment and he is already too noticeably into me for his own good," Peter continued. "You are openly queer and a sub. You don't form attachments so I can use you for sex and it's not a problem but with a kid like Ian his feelings might get hurt." As for my not forming an attachment, I looked over at this blond curly haired god at my kitchen table in a pair of Calvins and thought 'you so don't know what is going on in my head and my heart', I am totally emotionally involved and being hurt every day by you. But Peter's belief I didn't form attachments would explain how easily he moved from being so dominant and aggressive to conveying what I construed as genuine affection, hurting me repeatedly in the process. To Peter, sex with me was just a game with a man who likes cock, whereas with Ian he had concern for his young schoolmate's feelings. "Why wouldn't you let him join in this morning," I asked, given that I am someone in Peter's mind guys can use and he had already given my ass to Ian the night before why wouldn't he let Ian use me again like the night before. "He might have seen it as having sex with me since I was in the bed," said Peter, an answer that sounded hollow to me and must have to him as well because he smirked. "OK, it just seemed wrong. You are my property, aren't you. I don't want people thinking they can use you without my permission." Bizarely I felt it heartwarming that Peter saw me as his property and didn't want to share me. His pushing Ian's hand away from my ass and preventing him from fucking me a second time in the day light was Peter being possessive. My throat was sore from his marking his territory but I liked being his territory. "Yes sir," I responded with a smile. "I am yours master." Then after a moment of reflection, after the pride at being the property of a 16 year old boy had washed over me, I asked: "What do you mean by 'putting me out of my misery', sir." "You have asked me enough times to fuck you," he said. It was only twice and a while ago but it is true I had asked. "And I have seen you occasionally using that dildo on yourself, which since you bought one shaped like my cock I am assuming you are picturing me fucking you" (on that point he was right). "So I thought you must be desperate for a real cock in your ass." "But I was fucked a week ago," I said. "By who," Peter asked. I was about to correct his grammar and say 'whom' when I realized he didn't know and was looking a little upset that I might have had sex with someone other than him. Seemed hypocritical as he had gone to the park to have sex with some girl but I would be the last person to point this out to Peter who I know to be volatile and whose wrath I definitely didn't want to incur. "By David,' I said defensively, as I genuinely thought he had sent David to fuck me. As the look on Peter's face went from annoyed curiosity to rage it occurred to me that he didn't know David had fucked me. If he hadn't, had I broken the rules (rules that clearly didn't apply to him as he had gotten blown by a girl last night) and cheated. Had I ruined things with Peter by having had sex with his brother? "David who," he asked, getting increasingly visibly upset. "Your brother David," I said meekly, looking at my feet standing in a bathrobe being interrogated by this blond Adonis god in only a pair of white briefs in my own kitchen. I felt vulnerable and exposed even though he was a scantily clad teenager and I was the adult. "He said you told him to. You must have, he knew to ask for money," I added defensively. "Oh," Peter said, as awareness passed over his face. "Yes, I told him you would pay him to fuck you but he then got into grilling me about whether you had propositioned me and if you had ever tried to touch me and a whole stream of other questions I didn't feel like answering so I dropped it. I never imagined he would actually come over and fuck you. I know he likes money but he is fucking straight. He gets all this pussy at university. He had a girlfriend and he cheats on her with at least one girl regularly who I have met and she is drop dead gorgeous." "Oh," was all I could say, wondering if I should have told him about his brother David. They are brothers after all. Then again, Peter was the one who owned me, much as I had enjoyed the ass pounding by his older brother's big cock (a thought that caused my ass to twitch, even though it had been fucked the night before pretty good by - OMG 14 YEAR OLD - Ian). I couldn't lie to Peter. "Did David just fuck you for a while and take the money or did he cum," Peter asked. I considered being coy, but it was a little late for secrets. Besides, Peter was my master. "He came," I said, but I added quickly "it took a long time so I don't think he was enjoying it." After a moment on reflection on this fact Peter asked: "but you did?" I didn't know if he was jealous and regretted passing on my offer to his brother of sex for money or he was just curious. He had seen his brother naked I was sure multiple times, maybe even seen his brother hard occasionally and had seen me naked so could undoubtedly picture us in bed. So as not to exacerbate a difficult situation I said as meekly as I could "I did sir." "More than with Ian," he asked. "Because you were moaning like a bitch when I came into the room last night." "It was different sir," I said, now in total slave mode, afraid to say anything that would upset my master. Thankfully Peter decided to leave it at that and we began to talk about what we would do for the day. It was decided we would go to the Waterslide Park. I asked if I was going to end up sucking him off in washrooms like at the amusement park. Peter laughed, saying "yea, you with a hard on all day in a bathing suit, that wouldn't get us arrested." "I might need to jack off before we go sir," I ventured knowing how horny I already was from having been fucked and been naked with the two boys that morning and strangely from the humiliating talk about his brother fucking me. And I knew that following Peter around all day, him without a shirt on, watching that big cock sway under the baggy trunks, would be too much. "I want to get an early start before the lines at the park get too long. I supposed you can jack off now but there is not time to clean up the breakfast dishes. Do you want me in the room to look at," he asked. Leaving the dishes dirty in the kitchen went against the grain as I am a bit of a cleanliness freak but here was Peter offering to let me jack off in his presence and I was definitely boned from the sex (a 14 year old boy fucking me, Peter raping my throat in his presence that morning as the kid jacked off and having discussed Peter's brother's fucking me, all of which was so wrong that it made it so much hotter), I desperately needed to cum. "Would sir do that," I asked incredulously. I knew he didn't like to see my cock or the thought of me cumming in his presence let alone jack off in front of him. "I have seen you hard plenty of times. Hell I watched you get fucked last night. And I like that you worship my body," said Peter reflectively. While these facts were no surprise to me, they seemed to be to him, and he said as much to himself as to me "and I find it hot to know my cock is worshiped even by an old fag like you." "It is sir," I exclaimed, "not just your cock which is impressive, your whole body sir, you are gorgeous," I added without thinking, and then turned bright red. Peter laughed and my inability to blurt out the obvious. We left the dirty dishes and I followed him upstairs. When we got up to the bedroom, before I removed my bathrobe, Peter shucked his underwear and flopped on the bed. "Maybe you better suck me off while you jack," Peter said. While Peter had just made it about him and not me getting off, I didn't care. The idea of his cock in my mouth and not just staring at it was way better. I dropped my bathrobe (already sporting a hard-on) and got on the bed beside Peter, got my head level with his hips and took his soft yet large cock into my mouth. "I thought it was hot when Ian came as I shot down your throat," Peter said, again as much reflectively to himself as to me. To me he said "try to cum when I do." Peter then added "if you cum before me, you need to keep sucking me until I cum because once you get me hard and wet with your mouth I don't want you to just jack me off to completion at the end." Taking his cock out of my mouth I said "not a problem sir" grinning ear to ear. I too didn't want to cum before he did, if I could help it, because it was much easier to take his cock down my throat when I was boned. But even if I did there was no way I wouldn't finish Peter off by sucking his cock, I was his cock sucking slave. Putting his cock back in my mouth it was soon snaking its way down my throat. I tried to just let it grow its way into me but it was too difficult with my throat sore from his raping it in front of Ian a short while earlier so as he hardened I moved my mouth up and down to help it harden and to get my throat used to it being back where it belonged. While Peter had already cum this morning it wasn't long and he was moaning and running his fingers through my hair. The more he moaned the more turned on I became. I found I didn't need to touch my cock. I was rock hard and leaking pre-cum from the start. Seems being fucked by a 14 year old and by Peter's brother were not as revolting ideas as they should have been. I was so boned I could barely restrain myself from cumming as I sucked on this gorgeous blond boy's large teenage cock. Soon he was writhing on the bed and I was working desperately with my mouth and throat muscles to take him over the brink, knowing he was close. When Peter said "I'm gonna cum", I reached down and barely touched my cock and it began to erupt. Try as I might to aim it away from him, I couldn't control it and it went everywhere. Grabbing my hair he cried "oh yes, take it bitch" and I felt his cock do the now very familiar pulsing as he shot rope after rope of cum down my throat. Releasing my hair he let me move my head so the rest of the load went into my mouth causing even more cum to shoot out of my own cock with my hand barely touching it. When Peter finished cumming I lifted my mouth off his cock and looked down. I had soaked the bed between us and hosed down his leg. Looking up I said apologetically "sorry sir." Peter looked down and laughed. "Don't worry about it. I haven't showered yet." Peter got up and went to the shower and as soon as he was gone I realized my cock was still rock hard. I had just cum but the two loads of cum in my belly and the thought of the 14 year old boy who had fucked me and jacked off while watching Peter rape my throat had me so turned on, as did the memory of sex with Peter's brother. How was I not going to be hard all day at a water park with young guys in bathing suits (I was becoming a pedophile). I began to stroke my cock hard and fast and I forced myself to cum again and again without stopping stroking until I was exhausted from the exertion, shooting blanks and raw sore. I must have cum (well orgasmed as nothing was shooting out of my cock by the end) 10 times in a row. Peter came out right after I finished and laughed when he realized I had been jacking off all the while he had been in the shower. "God you are a horny fuck," Peter said. "Go take your shower. I want to get going." END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE. ***