Date: Fri, 30 Mar 2018 11:26:56 +0300
From: Ben Coolen <bencoolen1212@gmail.com>
Subject: Serving Casey 7

Serving Casey

By Ben Coolen

bencoolen1212@gmail.com

This story contains sexual acts (domination, submission, humiliation, oral
sex, masturbation) between young males. If you don't like it, or it is
illegal in your country, state or community, please stop reading it
immediately.

This story is 100% fiction.

Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this great free
service running.

Thanks to Naughty Bard for proofreading the text.

Chapter 7

-----
>From then on, I would know what my position with Logan and Shane was, and
there would be less humiliating surprises for me. And I was pretty sure the
guys would keep my embarrassing nickname to themselves, to be used at the
office only.
I was wrong.
-----

After accepting my new role as the housekeeper of Logan and Shane's office,
I settled into a comfortable routine. I would clean the premises every
Tuesday and Friday after school. I managed to snatch some rags and a broom
from our garage at home, but I had to buy the detergent and a mop and a
toilet brush with my own money. Well, they didn't cost that much. But the
bed sheets were another story.

I went to a local hypermarket to find the sheets I would have to change
whenever the bed of the office would be used by Logan or Shane to fuck one
of their one-night stands. I found a great offer on a cheap set of a pillow
case and sheets, but their strange dirtyish green color made me hesitate.

I tried to imagine Shane having sex in a bed with dirtyish green sheets,
and it didn't feel right. I kept browsing until my eye caught another set,
made of soft Egyptian cotton. It was maroon, just like the color of Shane's
Corvette, but it cost more than three times the ugly one. I imagined Shane
naked in a bed with crumpled maroon sheets, and I got an instant hardon. I
sighed and bought two sets of them.

Cleaning the boys' office didn't take more than half an hour after I had
given the place the first thorough scrub it had probably ever seen. Of
course, there was always trash carelessly scattered on the floor and the
table and around the trash bin, but picking it up didn't usually take long.
After that, I swept the table and the shelves, and mopped the floor. The
little bathroom took some more effort, because neither Logan nor Shane were
too careful with their toilet habits. Sometimes I felt that one of them had
left some sort of greeting for me by peeing on the floor around the seat on
purpose. But somehow even cleaning the toilet bowl and the floor around it
on all fours was a turn-on for me. As Logan told me, my work had a purpose:
I was helping make their life easier.

After about three weeks, on a Saturday morning Shane texted me.

"Got laid. Change sheets and clean up."

I sighed. I had cleaned the place the previous day, and I had other plans
for the day. But the idea of holding -- and smelling -- those maroon sheets
after Shane had had sex in them brought a stir in my pants. I had a quick
breakfast and left to do my duties. I had to walk to the gym as my mom
needed the car but I didn't mind. It was a nice, warm mid-morning and I
felt good.

Until I heard somebody scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of the
street:

"Wendy!"

The scream was extremely loud, offensive and reckless. It was the type of
scream that teenagers use when they purposely want to irritate other people
as much as possible, or as in my case, to embarrass someone by making him
the center of public attention when he least wanted it.

I turned to see who was screaming. I saw a silver truck on the other side
of the street. A blond head was poking out of the driver's window. I
recognized him immediately: Austin, Shane's younger brother. I had seen him
couple of times when he had visited Shane at the office. Although he wasn't
a member of the team, as Shane's brother he was considered `one of the
guys'. I remembered how he had watched me, smirking and chuckling to
himself, while I took care of his big brother's chores.

As a person Austin was something that most adults consider an infuriating
teenager, a brat who was always up to something bad. A bad boy with good
looks -- the recipe of a pussy magnet.

I quickly looked back and increased my pace, but Austin reversed his truck.

"Wendeee! Where are you going, we wanna talk to you! Wendeeeee!"

I saw two other guys in the car looking at me too, laughing. Some of the
bystanders were already staring at the scene.

"Don't be shy, Wendeee!"

I started running and reached the end of a little park and turned to a
narrow path. The truck wouldn't be able to follow me there.

I ran through the bushes until I came to a small clearing. Feeling safe, I
stopped to catch my breath. But in a split second the silver truck rolled
into the clearing from the opposite side. I turned around, ready to spring,
but Austin's two friends -- Zeke and Chad -- were standing behind me,
blocking the way.

Austin stepped out of his truck, arranging his thick blond hair. Just like
his big brother, he paid a lot of attention to his appearance; looking good
was not enough for guys like them, they had to look perfect. It was easy to
recognize Austin as Shane's brother; he had the spiky blond hair, the cocky
grin, the blue eyes, the trimmed body. He was tall but not as muscular as
his brother, but he wasn't skinny either: his body looked wired.

Now he was wearing a grey Hollister muscle shirt that left his both sides
bare, and skin-tight light blue jeans. A small golden ring on the left
earlobe and a leather bracelet around the right wrist were his decorations
of the day.

Austin checked his hair in the side mirror before swaggering slowly towards
me, taking his time, enjoying my discomfort. He stopped right in front of
me and grinned.

"What's up, Wendy?"

I tried to look confident and stared right back into his blue eyes. I
noticed that despite being a freshman, he was already an inch taller than
me.

"What do you want from me, Austin?" I asked, annoyed with myself, because
my voice sounded shaky.

He spread his arms and said to his pals:

"Looks like we have a rude pussy-boy here. No manners at all."

"What do you want from me?" I asked again.

"Nothing much, I just wanted to see if it is true what they say about you."

"What's that?"

He just smirked at me for a minute before replying:

"They say you're a homo, dude. I've never had a close look at a real fag so
I got curious."

"And they say you love to be pushed around by other guys. Is that true?"

"No." I snapped back defiantly.

"No?" he said and pushed my chest with his palm so that I had to take a
couple of steps back to keep my balance.

"You look scared, Wendy. Are you afraid of me?" he asked and pushed me
again.

"No!" I lied.

"Oh, you're such a brave fag, you know? And if you're not afraid of me then
you'll have nothing against a good old fight with me, right?"

Suddenly I felt really scared.

"I don't wanna fight you, Austin. Just let me go."

He laughed.

"Oh no, I'm not gonna let you go, Wendy. You'll have to fight me to get out
of this park, gay-boy."

Like I said, Austin was a little bit taller, but I was a little bit heavier
than him. And of course being Shane's brother probably meant he had his
share of fighting experience which I didn't, but I decided to try and do my
best.

I knew there was no way I could escape from those guys, so I opted for a
surprise attack and took a wild swing towards the grinning blond head in
front of me. Unfortunately, I knew nothing about the dirty little tricks of
fighting. Austin just danced aside and laughed as my fist hit the air. I
nearly lost my balance and he used that opportunity to kick my butt.

"You'll have to do better than that, little Wendy-Boy!" he taunted and
smacked me in the back of my head.

I turned around, not knowing what to do. My surprise move had failed
miserably, and Austin took the initiative now.

He came at me with his fists up and a smile on his face. I instinctively
took two steps back -- to be in better position for defense, as I later
tried to reason with myself.

The setup worked just as planned: I tumbled on Chad's extended foot behind
me and fell on my back on the ground. The rough landing was painful, and I
was momentarily defenseless; I could only watch Austin leap and land on top
of me. His hard butt hit my midriff, pushing all the air out of my lungs,
but I was still on fight mode. I tried to shake him off, wrestling with all
I had but he rolled himself on top of me so that I was laying helplessly
between the ground and his slim body.

"Let's turn this sissy on his back, guys," Austin said, only slightly out
of breath.

Zeke and Chad grabbed my wrists and held them until Austin was securely
sitting on my chest with his knees pinning my arms to the ground, holding
me in a classic schoolboy pin.

I looked straight up into his triumphant grin, and then down his slim
frame. The crotch of his jeans was just an inch from my face.

"How do you like this, fag-boy?" he asked, his voice full of malicious
pleasure.

I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"That wasn't fair!" I said with a trembling voice.

Austin laughed at my protest for a long time.

"That wasn't fair, boo-hoo," he mimicked with a high, girly voice, making
Chad and Zeke laugh.

"Who told you the world's a fair place? You of all people should know
better," he taunted and slapped me in the face.

In the handbook of bullying a slap in the face always comes together with
the schoolboy pin. The slap I received wasn't too hard, well yes it stung,
but its main purpose was to remind me that I was totally at his mercy.

"Let me go!"

"You don't like to be pinned down by me, fag?"

"No!"

He slapped me again, this time on both cheeks.

"You don't like it when I slap you in the face and call you a fag?"

"No!"

"What are you gonna do about it then, fag?" he teased.

"Let me go!"

"You know, Wendy here likes guys' feet," he said to his pals.

"Fuck that's disgusting," Zeke said.

"No, I don't!" I tried to argue.

Austin laughed. He bent down and whispered in my ear:

"I've seen the video. You smooched Shane's feet like crazy!"

"He likes feet? Well, I'll let him taste mine," Chad chimed in.

He put his hand on Austin's shoulder for balance and slipped one of his
sneakers off. The next thing I saw was the dirty sole of his white sock
landing on my face.

I tried to turn my head away, but Austin pressed his thighs tighter
together, preventing any movement of my head.

Chad rubbed his socked foot back and forth on my nose and lips. I had to
breathe in the smell of his foot, and some of the white fluff stuck on my
lips.

"You like the taste of my foot, fag? I haven't washed it since yesterday,"
he taunted and kept rubbing.

When he finally pulled his foot back, I made one final attempt to throw
Austin off me. I yanked my hips violently up and tried to roll over,
managing to lift him briefly in the air. But his butt landed right back on
my chest, only this time higher, and now he was sitting on my face.

"Fag thought he was clever," he laughed.

My view was now limited to the narrow slice of Austin's triumphant face
that was visible from between his thighs. I wasn't able to move my head at
all. The heavy seam of his jeans below his balls was brushing my lips, and
my nose was pressed against the bulge of his crotch. I had to breathe
through my nose and the musky odor of teen scrotum filled my senses. His
tight jeans hadn't been washed for a while, and the denim carried a
considerable tinge of sweat and piss.

"Look guys! I'm riding a fag! Yeeehaww!" he laughed and wriggled his hips
to rub his scrotum on my face.

His move had freed my arms from under his knees and I tried to push his
hips back, but he was still fully in control, and my struggle made him just
laugh. After a minute I gave up and rested my hands on his thighs, while he
continued humping his crotch back and forth, making sure that my lips and
nose even got acquainted with the narrow valley between his taut butt
muscles.

"How's this, faggot? A freshman fucking around with you and there's nothing
you can do about it. I bet you love sniffing my ass, fucking homo!"

To my horror, the humping and the taunting and having my hands on Austin's
thighs and the smell of his crotch and the mere fact of being helplessly
pinned under this handsome bully, had a violent impact on my cock. It was
hard.

Unfortunately, Zeke noticed it too.

"Fuck guys, the fag's got a boner!" he screamed excitedly.

"Hahaha! See?! I told you, guys!" Austin said, clearly delighted.

Chad leaned down to have a closer look.

"Well maybe, I dunno. Maybe he's got something in his pocket."

Austin paused the humping and turned around to look himself.

"Looks like a hardon, but I can't tell for sure. Pull his pants down!"

I tried to wriggle but Zeke was already unbuckling my belt. Then he yanked
my shorts down to my knees, revealing my underwear. Despite my anxiety I
hoped I would have been wearing something more presentable than the white
briefs my mom used to buy me from the local cheapo store.

The boys cracked up: the thin fabric of my undies couldn't hide the state
of my cock from their eager eyes. Although I couldn't see it myself, I
could feel it stretching the front of my underwear. You had to be blind not
to see that I was fully boned up from being tormented by Austin. And when
my underwear got exposed to the morning air, I could feel a breeze on the
tip of my cock: I had been oozing precum in my briefs.

"Yeah, he's got a boner in his tighty-whiteys all right! And look at the
stain, he's been leaking too! Just like you said! The fag got hard when you
messed with him Austin! He almost cummed his pants!" Zeke screamed.

Austin inched his butt backwards and sneered at me.

"Fuck, you're sick, dude!"

Then he hocked up, leaned down and looked straight into my eyes, smiling.
He pressed my cheeks with his surprisingly strong hand, forcing my lips
apart. I watched helpless as he let a spoonful of thick loogie run down
from his mouth to my face. His aim was good, and most of the slime landed
on my lips, running slowly into my mouth, making me cough, while Zeke and
Chad watched and laughed.

Austin let another glob down, this time on my nose, and a third one of my
cheek.

The frustration and humiliation brought tears in my eyes. Austin noticed it
too, and he let out a delighted snicker.

"Look, the fag's crying."

Then he spat me in the face once more and stood up.

"Let's go guys. He's had enough," he said cheerfully.

But he wasn't done yet. He picked up my backpack, opened it and turned it
upside down, shaking all my stuff into the bushes. Then he got into his car
and started the powerful engine.

He poked his head out of the window and gave me a shit-eating grin.

"Nice talking to you Wendy. I'm glad you enjoyed it too," he said, and
reversed the truck out of the clearing.

I could still hear the guys' laughter when they took off.

I sat on the ground for a while before putting my shorts back on and
gathering my stuff back into my backpack. I looked at my face on the screen
of my phone. My hair was a mess, and my cheeks were flushed from the
wrestling and Austin's slaps. His spit was slowly running down my forehead
and cheeks, and I could taste and smell it.

My cock was still rock hard in my pants. I stepped deeper into the bushes
and sat down, leaning my back on a sturdy branch, and opened my pants.

I closed my eyes and relived the scene, with my dick in my hand. I
remembered Austin's warm crotch on my face, and his exultant grin when he
finalized my humiliation by letting his loogies run down on my face.

I remembered how the soft pouch of his balls was pressed on my nose, and
how it smelled like jeans, sweat and boy. I imagined being on my knees in
front of him, begging for permission to suck him off.

I scooped some of Austin's spit off my face with my finger and lapped it up
with my tongue.

That pushed me over the edge. "Please Austin, please let me do it," I
moaned, my body shaking from a powerful orgasm.

Will Austin grant Randy his wish?

If you want to read more, please drop me a line or two:
bencoolen1212@gmail.com