Date: Sat, 10 Sep 2005 14:17:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Subtoy Kimy <subtoy_kimy@yahoo.com>
Subject: Consented Enslavement (Ch 05)

Warning: This story is about gay sex and domination between young
adults. If this subject offends you, or if it is illegal in the country
where you live, or if you are under 18, then read no further and quit this
page now.

(c) Subtoy_Kimy 2005 - All rights reserved


CHAPTER 5: A SPIKEHEAD TEEN WITH A DEVIL IN HIS EYES

Kevin had just finished instructing me on how he demanded that I welcome
his guest, when the doorbell rang. The humiliation inherent in what he
called 'The Welcome Ritual' was such that I would have rather died. By the
time I reached to open, I only could hope and pray that the guest wasn't
someone I knew, like one of my classmates, for instance. By just thinking
this could happen to be the case, my blood ran cold, and a drop of sweat
rolled along my back.

"Better not forget anything, or you'll be severely punished," Kevin warned,
disregarding that my heart was drumming, and all of me trembling with fear.

"I can't promise this might not happen, but I'll ask for your forgiveness,
Master, if it does," I replied, with my hand over the handle. I noticed he
kind of liked my reply, in that it showed our relation has well started to
settle on the rail he always wanted.

Until I opened, I didn't have a slightest idea of whom to expect, and
though it turned to be obvious afterwards, I was ways to think of Damien
Steen.

Damien is an 18 years old sophomore in the Biomedical School Department,
which campus and dorms are separated from ours. We never were introduced to
each other really, but I had seen him quiet often, and I knew who he was,
since he part-time worked as a bar tender assistant and DJ at the Speedy
Gonzo's, the down town place where most of the TCs spend their Saturday
nights.

With more than a 6 feet slender body, the highlighted spikes of his short
brownish hair, his sharp and deep blue eyes, the black leather jackets he
wore, hands in the pockets, and the silver ring pierced on his left ear, he
overall looked more like one of a backstreet gang of troublemakers, than
the brilliant student he actually was. The light titanium frame of his
eyeglasses was the only visible sign of the intellectual side of him. Like
Kevin, Damien belonged to those very few whom all the girls were burning to
go out with, and it was commonly known that the Speedy Gonzo's doubled his
turnover, the nights he was on duty.

In a way, I felt somehow released that the guest wasn't someone else, but
at the same time, Damien's provocative arrogance and visible hardness
scared me to death. I definitely knew that being at his disposal wouldn't
be soft kidding.

...

He stepped inside, while I stood still totally naked, in line with the wide
opened door, feet joined, and head bowed, till he came in. Not only I was
ashamed that the junior he was made me tremble that much, but I also was
awfully embarrassed that it showed. My heart kept beating, and went even
stronger, and faster, but he conducted himself as if I was not there, as if
I was just nothing, and the longer it took him to turn his attention on me,
the more I feared the moment he would. I closed the door and followed him
behind. He was still in his workout wear, and a pair of flashy red All Star
covered his ankle socks. Sweat was still drying on his legs.

Kevin was comfortably sitting, half lain down on one end of the sofa, his
arms spread out on the back of it, and his shoed feet laid on the glass top
of the central table. In this posture, he obviously prepared to enjoy
watching how the 'ritual' would go on. He just winked at Damien with a
smiling complicity, and Damien topped Kevin's hand in return.

When he finally turned to, he stared at me with a provocative disdain that
I couldn't stand facing. Behind his eyeglasses, the straight lines of his
eyebrows frowned: There was a devil in his eyes. As I felt every part of
him, including his silence, was expecting me to do it, I knelt down before
him. In the state of mind where I was, I just couldn't remember that I was
not authorized to kneel down by myself, since ordering it in words was a
main part of doms' pleasure. When I realized my mistake, it was already too
late. Obviously, they seemed to have pre-planned every little detail of
this ritual, and there was no place for a change. From down where I was, I
looked up at him, like inquiring his mercy, and a begging fear showed in my
eyes:

"Stand up," he said, with an authoritarian quietness.

I did.

"Shouldn't you wait till you're ordered to do it, before you get on your
knees, little slut?" he asked, like controlling an anger.

"I surely had to, Sir." (On Kevin's orders, guests were to be addressed to
as 'Sir'). "I really apologize to you, Sir," I added, hoping this would be
enough. But at the age of 18, verbal apologies do not mean what they
should. He spread out his right arm with no reluctance, and the palm of his
hand went slapping across my face, twisting my head.

"Uhhh!" There was nothing I could do, but deal with the inner rage of it,
in silence.

"With this, I guess you won't forget, next time," he cynically said. "Now,
on your knees!" he ordered, with one finger pointing at the tip of his
toes. I knelt down before him, a second time.

The next step was outrageously hard to execute, especially in favor of the
younger jock he was, and the slap I just had on my face made it even
harder. While on my knees, I had to ask him to allow me to kiss his hands,
as a sign of my submission and tremendous respect, and this had to be done
in a specific formula that I struggled hard to let out:

"Sir, would you please allow me the honor of kissing your hands?"

Again, there was a mistake, and the right word was 'privilege' and not
'honor'. It was only when Kevin burst out laughing, in anticipation to what
this would cost me, that I noticed my mistake. According to my status
towards them, a quest for an honor was something that I was not supposed to
ambition in any way, and otherwise was considered as a serious
offence. Damien smiled at Kevin, and seemed almost content that I had just
given him another reason to slap my face, which he enjoyed doing:

"Noppp please... Uhhhh!"

And this time, he used his left hand.

I hated how these boys were using me in the way they wished, not even
trying to hide that for them, this was nothing else but just funny. I had
been turned on, then off, then on again, and humiliated, and inflicted pain
and cruelties, and all this, for the only sake of their insatiable
pleasures. I came back to where I was, but to just realize that my previous
effort was spoiled, and that I had to say the 'formula' again. I wished I
could at least skip saying 'please', but of course I dared not change a
letter.

"Sir," I said trembling, "would you please, allow me the privilege of
kissing your hands?"

Surprisingly, he didn't rush to have it done. On the contrary, he started
by turning his back on me, and took the time to settle down on the other
end of the sofa where Kevin was. He reacted to the offer as if having his
hands kissed was the kind of thing he was used to:

"You wanna kiss my hands? Come grovel to them," he said, with an ironic
smile, and while spreading the topside of one hand in my direction.

I groveled just as ordered, till I reached him, then my close look at his
hands made the heat spread all over me. The shape of them was at least as
gorgeously refined as Kevin's ones. Though bigger than mean, they looked
pure, and smoothly delicate, and his long fingers could have surely been
those of a pianist, perhaps even those of a harp player. Above all, his
nails were trimmed and filed in perfect crescent, as if he just had them
manicured. I gazed at them in admiration, then I placed the very tip of my
lips on one of those big veins, which popped up the skin with their curved
lines, and I kissed his hands, respectfully, one after the other. While
doing this, I confess that their beauty made me almost forget that only
seconds before, these hands had severely been slapping my face.

"Now go get us some cool Buds," ordered Kevin, putting an end to the
'Welcome Ritual'. "C'mon! They're in the fridge!"

Right on the spot, they both agreed "it would be real good," if I was
trained to the ways they always wanted a stylish slave to serve them.

When I came back with two beers at once, I was ordered to bring them back,
and to serve them again, but one after the other, and on a tray. They found
it would be "fun" if I presented them with a tray, while putting one knee
down before the one whom I was serving, and while keeping my head
bowed. Guests were to be served first, so I served Damien, then the host
afterward, and I served Kevin. Not only I had to obey all their
instructions, but also bear their jokes and comments on how they intended
to use me.

While presenting Kevin with the can, in the way I had been instructed, from
where he sat, Damien observed that I had knelt "perhaps a little too
close," to which Kevin agreed that my position "could indeed be
improved". Ceasing the can, Kevin ordered me to stay where I was, until
fine-tuning my position was done. As he was half lain down on the sofa, he
just lifted one leg up from the table where he had it laid, bent his knee
in the air, and he unexpectedly placed the spiked sole of his training shoe
against my bare shoulder, lightly pushing me back with it. God! I was
outraged. Damien just smiled a little, but otherwise seemed to find Kevin's
gesture nothing but natural, which made me think that he would have also
done the same. My face blushed red with a mix of unbearable humiliation and
anger. If these jocks' arrogance was proportionate to their beauty, then I
wasn't even close to find out what the limits of their arrogance would
be. Kevin kept on pushing me back with his shoe, until Damien approved:

"Much better!"

While they kept chatting, Kevin left his leg resting on my shoulder, or
perhaps he just felt comfortable enough to forget moving it, but in any
way, I dared not disturb or move. They went on joking and laughing on what
they would subject me to and on what would be "fun" to make me carry out,
then on what I deserved and deserved not, and on how they intended to use
me and punish me, and all this, in a total disregard to my listening
presence. Each one of their ideas led to another. It always started to come
out as a joke, but it never lasted before they found that it was worth
planning for it. Those they found to be the funniest among their improvised
ideas, were always the worst for me to hear, and of course, the hardest to
figure out. Among other things, they would have me kneeling down to carry
out manicures on their hands and even pedicures, on a weekly basis
sessions. Considering inviting some of their buds to a party, where they'd
have me tied up for all the party guests to use me in any way they wished,
wasn't out of question. I went sick thinking that nothing could stop
them. As long as they found some fun in it, they considered anything worth
to be tried.

...

"Another beer?" asked Kevin.

Damien hesitated saying: "Mmmm no, not yet ... Perhaps later."

"You're right," approved Kevin, "it's rather our turn to giv'im something
to drink," he added, with an expression on his face that suggested there
was a kinky message behind.

Damien burst out laughing, while I panicked.

With this, and while I was kept on my knees, Kevin surrounded both sides of
my neck with his legs, pulling my head towards him, and my body could only
follow. When I was brought close enough for his hand to reach the back of
my head, he brutally grabbed my hair with his fingers, and firmly pulled my
face to his half erected cock.

"Lick it, li'll bitch! I know you've been starving for it!" he ordered,
clenching his bright white teeth beautifully.

"Uh! Nooo!" was all I could say. Thorn between my turned on desire and the
awfully degrading way I was being treated, I dared resisting, no matter
what the consequences would be, and kept my lips closed as tightly as I
could. Actually, I had never touched any male's genital, before.

With one hand, he kept grabbing my hair firmly, and with the other, he held
his cock, pulled back the foreskin to free the head of it, and he started
rubbing it against my lips. "At Three," he warned, "if you're yet not
suckin' it, you'll be whipped again. And I guess Damien would love doin'
it, this time... One!" he added, while staring at me with half a smile, the
very typical smile of someone who knows himself to be irresistible, the
killing little smile of a self-confident winner.

"I'd surely don't mind. I guess I'd make a good whipper." said Damien with
his cynical quietness, and while enjoying the scene. "But what's made you
say 'again'?" he asked.

"This is how I just warmed up his cutie bubbles, when you were on your
way," explained Kevin, who kept rubbing the head of his cock against my
lips and all around my nose, down to my chin, turning me on again.

"All riiiight!!" was Damien's reaction, on learning that I had just been
whipped. "Let me check how freshly warmed bubbles look like," he said, and
he stood up to come over from behind me.

"Should've seen how belts made his skinny body jerk and twist," continued
Kevin, while he kept on staring at me, still grabbing my hair and clenching
his teeth, and rubbing the head of his cock, tracing the lines of my lips
with it. As my breathing went faster, "Two!" he added, cynically.

"If I knew it, I'd have skipped workin' out," said Damien, while his
fingertips brushed lightly against my butt, spreading their heat all over
my body.

My resistance was slowly falling to pieces, and I had to deal with the fact
I was soon bound to give up. Before Kevin says 'Three' I barely released my
lips, and let the shaft of his erected cock slide slowly in between
them. Meanwhile, Damien was admiring how burning red my bottom was, and he
simply settled down on the floor, legs crossed behind me. Just as I
expected he would, he started playing with it. I sighed.



CHAPTER 6: UH! PLEASE NOT THAT!

Damien kept working my butt, while Kevin's cock was hardening inside my
mouth. As my naked body was tangled up between their four gracefully
muscled legs, they both felt free to subject me to whatever they desired...

(to be continued)

_________________________________________________

PS: My dedication of this story goes to someone very special, someone whom
I happened to mention in these lines before, and who has become like the
brother I never had: and this is Jason from NYC). Jason, as promised, this
story is dedicated to you.

Now, to all of you readers, again I apologize if my English is what it is.

Names featuring in this story are fictional and totally invented. If they
happen to belong to existing people and / or places, it's only by pure
coincidence.

Finally, and as usual, comments (positive or negative), corrections, and
suggestions are of course, mostly welcome. < Subtoy_Kimy@yahoo.com >