Date: Sun, 18 Jul 2004 01:21:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: CloseTheCellarDoor <closethecellardoor@yahoo.com>
Subject: Evil is a Man:    Dog Eat Dog No More  ---- Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hope this chapter doesn't scare anyone away.

Send comments or suggestions to "closethecellardoor@yahoo.com."


CHAPTER SEVEN


Malcolm was gone from the bed when I woke up.  I was let down.  Obviously,
once he had climaxed, my usefulness had diminished.  I felt cheap.  Even
so, looking over at his side of the bed, I could still imagine him lying
there naked with his huge cock hard and demanding attention.  Maybe it
wasn't so bad being used.

That afternoon I met Russ down in the basement at 3:10.  He was alone in
the room, dressed in his shorts and T-shirt again, putting weights on a
barbell.

"You're late," he said, not looking at me as I walked over to him.

"I'm sorry.  I was--"

"Don't make excuses.  Just don't be late.  Let's get started."

With that, he just ripped his shirt off.  He was thick, muscular, and was
covered with fuzzy looking brown fur.  He wasn't as muscular as Malcolm,
but definitely more so than Matt and Cougar.  I thought he was just
right--Malcolm was almost too hulking.

Around his neck hung silver dogtags on a chain.  It must have been a relic
of his military days.

He tossed me his shirt.  "Hold that," he said.  He walked over to a bench
and spread his towel over it.  "I'm going to do a couple sets of bench
presses."

He laid down on the bench and started lifting the bar.  I noticed that it
was really loaded up with weights.  Every time he pushed the bar upwards,
he would make a loud grunt.

After he had finished his sets, he got off the bench.  "Now it's your
turn," he said, raising an eyebrow.

I had been dreading this moment all day.  I walked up to the bench, putting
my towel upon it, as he took off the weight he had on and put on two
weights that looked significantly smaller.

"I'm gonna start you off with 20 plus the bar."

I got on my back, holding onto the bar like he had done.

"Hold on," he said, walking around behind my head.  "Let me spot you.  With
this sort of lifting, where you could tire enough so that you wouldn't be
able to get the bar back up in place, you should have a spotter."

"Why didn't I spot you then?"

"With the amount of iron I was lifting, you wouldn't have been much help.
Okay, go for it."

I lifted the bar up, and then lowered it down towards my chest.  It was
difficult, but do-able.  I did seven repetitions before Russ had to pull
the bar back up in place.

"Good.  Now rest for a bit before taking on the next set."

I looked up at him as I was resting.  His head was turned to the right,
looking at the clock that was mounted on the wall.  It gave me the chance
to really give him a good look over from a very unusual position.  His legs
were muscular and covered with the same brown fur as his chest.  In his
gray-green shorts, I could see a cylindrical shape pulled against his left
thigh, as if he was wearing constricting underwear.  Beneath that shape I
could make out the round lump suggesting large balls.

"Okay, do the next set," he said, looking down at me.  My eyes shifted from
his crotch to the bar above me.

As our workout continued, he always did the exercise first, with tons more
weight than I used.  Soon, we were both sweating.  Droplets of sweat began
to appear all over the fuzzy fur of his chest, while his smooth, muscular
back just glistened.  He would make me wipe down the machine with his towel
when he was done with it before I got on.

By the time we had finished, I figured I really knew my way around that
gym.

"What do you think?" he asked me.  "Do you like lifting?"

"No," I said honestly.  "I'm awful at it."

"That's exactly why you should keep at it," he said.  "Look at you.  You
don't want to be a skinny kid forever."  He flexed his arm in front of me,
displaying his bulbous bicep.  "See?  Don't you want to have some meat on
you like I do?"

"Of course," I said.

"Feel my bicep.  I've been working on my arms."

Getting very turned on by his invitation, I hesitantly poked the hard bicep
with my index finger.

He gave me a disapproving look.  "No, not like that.  Get a good feel."

I cupped my hand around the top of his bicep as he flexed it for me.  It
was big and hard; unyielding.

"Pretty good, right?  You'll get these first.  Feel the definition between
my bicep and my shoulder?"

I moved my hand up his arm, feeling the contours between the two muscles.

"Yeah.  It's really pronounced."

He smiled bigger than I'd ever seen him smile as a look of pride came
across his face.  He really must have been proud of his body, I thought,
thinking it was a bit arrogant of him.  But then again, it seemed like
something he had worked for, an accomplishment, so maybe he had the right
to be proud.

"Pretty nice, huh?  These muscles were easy to develop.  But my abs, they
took a lot of work and a lot of patience.  Check them out."

He stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and underwear, pulling
both down a few inches so that they hung high enough just to cover the top
of his pubes, exposing his ripped lower abs.

"Feel them," he said, grabbing my hand and rubbing it along the contours of
his abs.  "Took me years to get that six pack.  It's the lower abs that are
the hardest."  He rubbed my hand down to the top of his shorts and back up.
"See?"

"Yeah," I said.  "Real firm."

I took my hand away and he pulled his shorts back up.  "I just hope that
gives you some incentive.  Skinny guys like you usually think that they can
never have a body like mine.  But, they're wrong.  It just takes hard work
and discipline.  Tomorrow, we go jogging.  Meet me out front at four."

"Okay," I said.

"Give me my shirt.  I'm gonna go take a shower."

I tossed him his shirt, and he slung it over his shoulder as he went up the
stairs.

That night, Malcolm went to bed early and I followed him to his room, not
wanting to miss another opportunity to talk to him.  I was hoping to repeat
the session we had last night, only this time, maybe he'd take it a little
further.

As I told him about my workout with Russ, we both got into bed after
stripping our clothes off.  I started to get hard just being close to him,
feeling his hot, bare skin against my thigh.

Unable to control myself, I reached down under the covers and grabbed the
head of his soft cock.  He laughed.

"You want some more of that, huh?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I'm not surprised.  Once you have a taste of a cock like mine, you never
go back.  It's an addiction."  His cock started to pulse in my hand.  "Not
tonight, kid," he said, pulling my hand away.  "I got a fight tomorrow and
I want all the testosterone in my body that I can get.  Tomorrow night, if
you're lucky, maybe you can play with my cock again."

He rolled over away from me and went to sleep.

Frustrated and angry, I rolled away too and shut my eyes.  It was true; I
was fixated on his unit.  But not nearly as much as he was.  He was
obsessed with his own equipment.  Wait until tomorrow night, I thought.
When he tries to get me to touch him, I'll say I'm too tired.  Maybe
tomorrow, I'll say.

Then, I sighed, as the truth of my own nature sunk in.  Who was I kidding?
My hand would be drawn to his cock like a magnet.  I was truly pathetic.

*****

Strange, deep growls were interspersed with the crashing and scraping of
huge masses of flesh.  I desperately wished that I could see the fight for
myself, especially now that they were fighting in `were' form.  It sounded
like there were two grizzly bears downstairs.

The fight went on for a good fifteen minutes before there sounded the large
crash of a huge creature landing on the floor.  The match was over.

I guess I should have known, but I was still a little surprised to see Will
come up those stairs.  He had his clothes back on and only had a little
blood on the side of his face.  He gave me that same old look of
accomplishment as he passed me.

I ran downstairs.  Malcolm was on the floor on his back, naked and
spread-eagled.  As I came closer I realized how much blood covered his
body.  It was hard to see the dark blood against his dark skin.

Case was directing the others around his body.  "We need to get him cleaned
up," he said.  "We'll have to carry him up to the showers."

Just as they started putting their hands on him, he woke up.  "Get off me,"
he said, standing up, and shaking them off.  "I don't need the help."

He got on his feet and walked out of there on his own.

"Damn," said Cougar.  "I can't believe Malcolm just got beat."

"Why?" asked Russ.  "I've defeated him many times.  He's all size and no
technique."

"Yeah, but he's just so fucking big."

When I went to the second story an hour later, Will was putting his stuff
away in his new bedroom.

"I'll be sleeping well tonight," he said, patting the double bed.

I smiled at him, reluctant to say any more.  I went into Malcolm's new
room.  He was lying on the twin bed, but his mammoth body could barely fit.

"You can just forget about Russ," he said, spitefully.  "No point in that
anymore.  Fight with him next week is off."

"Okay," I said.  "Sorry about today."

He didn't look at me.  "Yeah, too bad.  Looks like you won't be sharing a
bed with me anymore, kid."  From his tone of voice I could tell he was
angry.  I got the hunch that some of that anger was directed at me.
Obviously, he was making some sort of sexual reference.  Did he expect me
to break into a fit and beg him to let me touch his cock one more time?

I left the room without saying a word.

It was then that I remembered my commitment to go jogging with Russ.  I
looked at my watch.  It was five o' clock.  With the excitement of the
fight, I had completely missed it.

I ran up to Russ's room, and knocked on his door, hoping he wouldn't be too
pissed.

"Come in," I heard his distant voice yell.

I opened the door and walked into his room.  He wasn't there.  Then I
realized that the shower was running.

"I'm in here," he yelled from the open bathroom door.

Overjoyed at the possibility of seeing him naked, I walked into the
bathroom.  There he was, in full view of me from head to toe, lathering up
his naked body under the spray of the showerhead.  Immediately I checked
out his crotch.  Beneath a patch of fuzzy pubic hair hung a beautiful, soft
cock.  It looked about five and a half inches long, a bit shorter than
Malcolm's.  It looked thick, with a large pink head at the end of it, but
not as thick as Malcolm's.  Actually, I preferred Russ's equipment.  It was
big without looking grotesquely large.  And beneath that beautiful cock
hung a pair of balls that were a good deal larger than Malcolm's, and
covered with more brown fuzz.

I looked quickly back to his face.  He was frowning at me.

"You were a no show today," he said in a reprimanding tone of voice.

"I know.  With everything going on, I--"

Then he was yelling.  "I told you before, no goddamn excuses!"  The rage
left his face again.  "Now I thought I could be relaxed with you.  But now
I know that you're just like the rest of them.  You need discipline."

While he was saying this, he had been lathering up his dick and his big
balls with his soapy paw.

"From here on out, you'll address me as sir.  Is that clear?"

"Okay... sir," I said, as he gave me one of his intense stares.

"Good.  Now tomorrow, I want you up when I get up.  You'll help me around
the house, and then we'll go jogging on time.  Understood?"

"Yes sir," I said meekly.

"Let's get your ass in shape."  He turned off the water.  "Toss me my
towel."

I grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it to him.  He started to dry
off.

"That's it for now.  Get out of here."

"Yes sir," I said, leaving his bedroom.

That night it looked like I was back on the couch.  Unfortunately, so were
Matt and Cougar; they were staying up late watching movies.  After trying
to sleep for a half hour without success, an idea came to me.

"Nobody ever uses this couch except me, huh?" I asked Matt.

"Guess not," he replied.

"Is it okay if I move it into the study?"

"Sure, don't see why not.  Let me help you."

Matt and I pushed my couch into the study, which had plenty of room for it,
and was much less noisy.  I thanked Matt and jumped onto the couch.  I
didn't know why I didn't think of this solution before.

The couch didn't feel nearly as soft or comfortable as Malcolm's bed had.
But, as I fell asleep, I realized that down here, I at least had my
self-respect.

*****

"Get up, kid.  Get up!"

I opened my eyes.  Russ was standing beside of the couch.  A pale blue
light was starting to illuminate the room; it must have been dawn.

"Ah, come on Russ," I said.  "It's early."

That statement was a mistake.  His response was to grab my by the arm and
pull me out of bed and onto my feet.

"Insubordination will not be tolerated in this house.  You got that?"

"Yes, Russ," I said.

"Yes, sir!"

"Yes, sir."

"Good.  I feel like scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast.  Get cracking."

Pissed off, I went into the kitchen and started making Russ's breakfast.
Nobody else in the house was anywhere close to getting up.

Once I had his breakfast ready, I served it to him in the dining room.  He
was reading the paper when I put his plate in front of him.

"You forgot the OJ."

I got him a tall glass of orange juice.

"Good.  Now go clean up while I eat this."

Halfway through cleaning the frying pan, he called for me again.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, coming into the dining room.

"My arm is awfully tired this morning.  How bout you come over here and
feed me my breakfast?"

I couldn't believe this.  "Yes, sir," I said.

I grabbed his fork and started feeding him his eggs one bite at a time
while he read his paper.  He was trying to humiliate me however he could.

After breakfast the humiliation just got worse.  First he had me do his
laundry.

"Bleach the whites," he said, handing me his hamper.  As I was walking
through the living room, he shouted, "and iron and fold everything!"

"Yes sir!"

Malcolm and Matt were in the living room at the time and heard this
exchange, to my embarrassment.

"Uh-oh," said Matt.  "The drill sergeant has reared his ugly head once
again.  This is how it used to be for us when Russ was alpha."

I glanced angrily at Malcolm.  "This is your fault," I told him.

He laughed without any sign of pity.

"What does he mean?" asked Matt.

"Nothing," said Malcolm.

I walked out into the garage and separated his laundry.  It was pretty
easy; Russ had only two types of clothes.  There were the dark colors of
all his military-type clothes, and then there were his white socks and
white briefs.

Two hours later I was returning to Russ's room with a basket full of clean
and folded laundry in my arms.  He inspected each item for cleanliness,
showing me which drawer to put everything in.

"What's this?" he said, holding up a pair of briefs.

I looked.  I didn't notice anything unusual about them.  "What?"

He dropped that pair and then picked up the next one, and the next one.
"They're all wrinkled.  I said iron everything."

"Even the underwear?"  I had never heard of any guy ironing his underwear.

"That's right.  Don't think you can get away with that half-assed shit with
me!"

My face burning red with anger, I took his underwear out to the garage and
ironed every pair before returning them back to him.

"It's about time," he said.

I put them away, hoping he would let me take a break.  He didn't.

"It's time for a jog.  You'd better go change.  You have one minute to be
outside and ready to go."

"Yes, sir," I said morosely as I left his room.

A minute and a half later we were jogging down the street.

The run was longer than before and more tiring.  The air was warm, and by
the time we got back both of our T-shirts were soaked through with sweat.

When we walked back into the house, Russ asked me to grab his sweat towel.

"Get my face," he said.

Sweat was pouring down from his hairline onto his face.  I gently wiped it
away with his towel.

"That's a boy," he said.  "This shirt is soaked.  Get it off of me."

"You want me to take your shirt off?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

I walked over to him and grabbed a hold of the bottom of his green shirt.
I pulled it upwards, over his head, and he stuck his arms out so that I
could remove it completely.  His masculine, sweaty smell filled my
nostrils.  Beads of sweat were covering the fuzzy hair on his chest like
before.

"Wipe it off," he said, lowering his arms.

Amazed at his demeaning request, it took me a second before I started
rubbing the sweat off of his pecs with the towel.  I ran the cloth against
his abs, drying the moisture from that area as well.

He lifted up his right arm.  "Get the sweat out of these pits."

The brown fur sprouting from his armpit was real wet.  I started to rub it
with the towel gently.

Cougar came strolling through the room, stopping to watch my degradation
with glee.

"Now the other one, boy," said Russ.

"Uh oh, Rick," he said.  "You know you're in for it when he starts calling
you `boy.'"

Russ turned and glared at him.  "You want some of this treatment, boy?
Maybe give Rick here a break?"

"No, sir," he said, quickly moving into the living room.

Russ lifted up his left arm so I could dry his other armpit.

"Good," he said when I had finished.  "Now, you're sweaty as hell.  I'll
give you five minutes to shower and get cleaned up.  In five minutes your
ass better be reporting to my room, got it?"

"Yes sir."

I ran into the study, grabbed my spare clothes, and then ran downstairs
into the basement gym.  Will was working out when I got there.

"What the hell are you running around for like that?" he asked.

"Can't talk, gotta shower."

I ran into the shower room and threw my clothes off as I turned on the
water.  After I had finished cleaning myself up, I changed into my clothes
and ran back upstairs.  Will shot me a perplexed look as I whizzed by.

Russ's door was open when I got there, so I just ran in.  He was standing
by his dresser, still shirtless.  He obviously hadn't showered himself.

He turned and looked at his watch.  "You're late," he said.  "You're always
late.  Do you know what discipline is, boy?"

"Yes sir."

His face twisted into that intense look that he always seemed to use with
me.  "Well, knowing what it is doesn't mean you have it.  Now, if this were
really the Marines, you'd only have one minute to shower.  I gave you five.
What the fuck took you so long, were you jacking off in there?"

"No, sir," I said.  I tried to picture myself taking a one minute shower.
It seemed impossible.

"I was going to give you the night off if you had just followed that last
order.  But, you fucked up.  Now, you'll be my bitch for the rest of the
night.  And the first thing I'm gonna do is take a shower.  Are you're
hands clean?"

"Yes sir," I said.

"They'd better be.  Follow me."

He led me into his bathroom.  I wasn't sure what I was in for, but I was
extremely hopeful that it would involve me seeing him naked again.  Even if
I had to do some shitwork in return, it would be worth it.

He stopped at the entrance to his shower.

"Turn on the shower, and get it heated up for me," he said.

I walked passed him and pulled the shower on with my hand.  The water
coming out was cold; it took a while in this house for the hot water to
kick in.  I let the water run over my hand.

He grabbed a hold of my shirt and started pushing me into the shower.
"Don't pussy out like that, boy.  Get in there and feel the water with your
head."

My shirt started getting wet from the cold water.  Now I was really
annoyed.  These were my fresh, clean clothes.

"I suggest you take anything you don't want to get wet off right now," he
said.

I wasn't wearing any shoes or socks, but I took off my wet shirt and my
shorts before they got any more water on them.  I hesitated when I was down
to my boxers.

He lowered his eyebrows at me.  "What's the matter, boy?  Don't want anyone
to see your tiny dick?"

To avoid any further ridicule, I pulled my boxers off and tossed them into
the main bathroom.  I noticed Russ was unabashedly checking out my cock.

"See?  You ain't got nothing to be ashamed of."

The cold water had turned hot, thankfully.  "It's hot now, sir."

"Good," he said.  But he didn't move, he just looked at me.  "You don't
expect me to get these shorts off on my own, now, do ya?"

"No, sir," I said.

Leaning out of the shower, I placed my hands on his hips, where the
waistband of his shorts were.  I pulled them down, revealing a pair of
bright and clean white briefs, nestling his large package in front.  He
stepped out of his shorts.

"Come on, the rest of it, hurry up."

I stuck my hands into the elastic of his briefs, and pulled them down.  His
thick, soft cock and big balls seemed to spill out from the small space as
I did so.  Since I was kneeling down, they were at the level of my face.  I
noticed for the first time that he didn't have any tan line.  His whole
crotch, including his cock and balls, were as tan as the rest of him.

I stood up as he walked into the shower, naked except for his dogtags.  I
was surprised he didn't ask me to carry him in.  Once he was under the
spray of the water, he placed his hands against the wall, leaning forward.
From my view, I was looking at his nice, round, muscular butt.  It was
hairless like his back.

"Get my shampoo," he said, nodding towards a bottle on the shelf.  "Don't
use too much of that stuff," he said.

I poured a small amount into my hand, and hesitated before I touched him.
Is that what he wanted me to do?

"Hurry up," he said.  "You do everything so goddamn slow."

Frustrated, I dug my fingers into his short, wet hair from behind,
massaging the shampoo into his scalp with a fast fury.

"Good," he said when I took my hands away.  "Soap and washcloth are over
there."

He pointed to a green washcloth and a bar of plain soap.  I couldn't
believe he wanted me to wash him.  I grabbed the washcloth, got it wet, and
then started rubbing the soap into it.

Since he was facing the wall, I had to start on his back side.  I rubbed
the washcloth onto his neck.  Knowing his complaints about speed, I moved
quickly, rubbing the cloth along his big, firm shoulders and back.

When I started moving down to his butt, he said, "Make sure you get my ass
real clean.  I don't want you trying to avoid it."

He thought he was torturing me.  In fact, I was delighted to roam my hand
over his great butt, just the layer of terrycloth between my fingers and
his skin.  I stuck my hand into his crack, and really scrubbed with the
cloth.

"That's right," he said.  "Now get the back of my thighs."

I scrubbed down his the back of his thighs, where the brown fuzz started to
pick up again, and then got his bulging calves as well.

As I pulled the washcloth away, he put his arms down and turned around to
face me.  I had been kneeling down, so once again his cock was right in my
face, only this time it was dripping wet.  He obviously wanted me to
continue with the front of him.

I stood up and started with his arms.  He made a goalpost with them so I
could have better access, flexing his big muscles inadvertently as I washed
them.

When I got to his armpits, he said, "Get those pits washed out real well.
I don't want any stink left over on them."

I scrubbed the hair of his armpits really well with the washcloth before
moving onto his pecs, getting his fuzz all soapy.  I moved down, tracing
along the outline of his abs with my fingers.

"Wash out that belly-button.  I don't want any shit in there."

I stuck the cloth into his belly button, and then moved down.  He spread
his legs open as I started soaping up his fuzzy bush.  I moved the cloth
over his cock, squeezing and rubbing it.  The whole time I had been able to
keep my own cock under control, but when I started rubbing his cock with
the washcloth, I felt mine twinge with excitement.

"Get my balls real good.  They sweat more than anywhere else.  I don't want
them stinkin' like sweat."

I moved my washcloth to his big balls, scrubbing them gently one at a time
with the cloth.  Then I scrubbed his thighs, and down his calves.

"Scrub my feet real well," he said, lifting his right foot up for me.  I
knew he was going to tell me that.

His feet were big.  I scrubbed them hard with the washcloth, cleaning
between each toe.

"Good, that's enough," he said.  "You can stick that washcloth in my hamper
and wash in out tonight."

I threw the washcloth into his hamper as he rinsed off.

"Turn off the water."

I shut it off.  He was just standing at the edge of the shower.

"Get me my fuckin towel."

I grabbed the white towel from the hook, and brought it to him.  He stuck
his arms up again, making it clear to me that I was supposed to dry him.  I
started at the top, and worked my way down his body, reaching around him
when necessary.  I especially liked toweling off his cock and balls-- they
bounced around as I did so.

"Good.  Now you towel off and get dressed."

I dried off and put my clothes back on after he walked into the bedroom
naked.  When I came out of the bathroom, he was in a pair of briefs,
getting into his bed.  Apparently, he hadn't needed me to put on his briefs
too.

"I'm taking a nap.  I want my lunch brought up to me in an hour with a
glass of milk.  Now, get the fuck out of here."

"Yes sir."

The second half of the day went on like the first.  He took every
opportunity to order me around and humiliate me.  If someone else was there
to see us, he would only treat me worse.  It was like he was showing off
his dominance over me to all of them.

The only one he didn't try that routine with was Case.  When Case came into
the dining room as I was feeding Russ his dinner, Russ dismissed me.  I
figured Case might put his foot down if he knew what was happening, and he
was the only one who had the authority to do so.

That night, after I had made Russ's bed, he went to sleep on the early
side.  I was glad; I'd finally have my chance to enjoy myself without him
ordering me around.  Matt and Cougar invited me out to go drinking with
them, but I realized that I was too tired to do anything social.
Completely spent, I just went to my couch and fell asleep.

*****

The next morning Russ woke me up again at sunrise.  Luckily, this time I
had gotten enough sleep.  But even so, the prospect of getting up early
just to be Russ's slave didn't sit well with me.

After breakfast and some morning chores, we both hit the gym.  Last time,
he let me take it easy.  This time, he really pushed me hard, insulting me
if I gave up too quickly.

When we had finished, he said to me, "Alright, five minutes to shower and
report upstairs again."

Having learned my lesson before, I went as fast as I possibly could without
skimping on any part of my shower.  When I entered his room again he was
shaking his head at me.

"Five minutes and twenty-eight seconds," he said, looking at his watch.
"You still haven't learned."  He shook his head disdainfully.  "Go get the
water started."

I gave my best mopey look as I sauntered into the bathroom.  Really, I was
looking forward to this particular punishment.

I stripped off my clothes and turned on the water.  When steam started to
fill up the shower, I got in and called to Russ.

He came into the bathroom completely naked.  I was disappointed--I had
enjoyed undressing him the day before.  He didn't even look at me as he
walked into the shower and put his hands against the wall in front of him.

"You know what to do," he said.

I shampooed his hair like before.  When I had finished, I went and grabbed
the soap.

"Where's your washcloth?" I asked, and then my memory hit me.  I had
forgotten to wash it.

"Probably in the goddamn hamper where you left it."

"Oh, I forgot to wash it.  Don't worry, I'll go get another."

I started to walk out of the shower.  As I was passing him, he spun around
and grabbed my arm.

"You fucked up again.  Now deal with it.  Forget the washcloth.  Use your
hands, boy."

"Yes, sir," I said.  This was more than I had bargained for.

He turned back around towards the wall.  I lathered the bar of soap in my
hands until they were filled with suds, and then I placed them on his
shoulders.  The warm touch of his skin was so much better than feeling the
rough texture of the washcloth.

Almost losing myself at the first touch, I snapped back to my task, and
started rubbing soapy circles into his shoulder muscles.  After soaping up
my hands again I was moving down his back.  I didn't hesitate this time
before I went down to his butt, feeling the hard curves of it beneath my
fingers.

Soaping up my hand again, I stuck my fingers into the top of his crack.
Rubbing my way down, I soon came to his round, puckered hole.  I felt like
sticking my soapy finger into it, but I only rubbed it clean before moving
down, soaping along his perineum.  After washing his thigh and calves, he
turned around.

I stood up and started on his arms like before, running my fingers around
the curves of his biceps and triceps.  Knowing he prioritized the
cleanliness of his armpits, I spent a good time kneading my fingers into
the fuzzy hair.  His chest felt firm and furry under my hand, and his
nipples hardened as I moved my hands over them.

As I rubbed my soapy digits into his abs, I looked up at him.  He was
watching every move I made, that constant intensity never leaving his face.
He always seemed to look angry.

I dug my fingers into his bush, which felt a good deal softer than my own,
and then cupped his dick in my hand, rubbing the soap into it.

Before he could order me to do it, I stuck my right hand beneath his balls,
cupping them from underneath.  I rubbed the suds into them, and then moved
down to his legs.

Lastly, like before, I cleaned each foot very meticulously.

He rinsed off as I got his towel.  When he turned the water off, I dried
his body again.  Afterwards, he dismissed me.

Later on, when I was running Russ's lunch up to his room on a tray, Case
stopped me in the stairwell.

"Is that your lunch?" he asked me.

"No."

"Who's been ordering you around so much?  It's like you never stop running
round the house.  If someone's taking advantage of you, tell me and I'll
have a talk with them."

"It's Russ," I blurted out, wanting to add "save me!" but refrained.

He winced.  "Russ?  Well you're on your own then, buddy.  I don't mess with
Russ."

He walked away from me.  My last hope for freedom and rest had just turned
his back on me.

*****

The next day, the run with Russ seemed a bit easier, although certainly not
effortless.  I was proud of myself that I was getting fit.  When we
finished, Russ once again gave me a five minute limit on my shower.

This time, I only pretended to rush through the shower.  Perhaps, if I had
tried hard enough, I could have made it up to his room in under five
minutes.  But the truth was, I was looking forward to the punishment again.

When I got to his room, he was standing there, naked already.  He frowned
at me.

"You are the slowest son of a bitch I've ever known, boy," he said.  "Get
in there and get the water heated up."

After I had stripped and started the water, he strolled in and got into his
same position.  I still hadn't washed his washcloth, and this time he
didn't even ask about it.  It was just taken for granted that I'd be
cleaning him with my bare hands.  It had become the highlight of my day.

This time, I was rushing through most of the washing.  I was eager to get
to the part where I got to rub his cock.  After I had briefly washed his
armpits and started my way down, he raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you got those pits clean, boy?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"They better be."

After I had dried him off, he walked into his room naked while I got
dressed again.  When I came back into his room, he had put on a pair of
briefs, and was digging into his dresser for more clothes.  When he saw me,
he motioned for me to come over to him.

"Come here," he said.

Perplexed, I walked towards him.  He usually wanted me to leave after he
was done with his shower.  When I was standing in front of me, he pressed
his hand upon my shoulder.

"You told me that you washed all the sweat out of my pits."

"I--I did."

"Prove it."  He lifted his left arm, exposing his furry pit to me.  "If
it's clean, you'll lick it."

"What?"  I couldn't believe this.

"Do it!"

He was pushing the back of my head with his right hand, so I couldn't
resist.  Soon my nose and mouth were nestled in the warm hair of his pit.
It was still wet from the shower.

"Don't just smell it.  Stick your tongue out."

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, not sure if I wanted to taste
it.  He pushed me harder into his arm, forcing my tongue against his pit
hair.  I licked my way up.

"That's a boy," he said.  "You taste anything you don't like?"

Truthfully, I could taste a musky, sweaty flavor that must have escaped my
washing.  But I wasn't about to admit that to him, he would have probably
whipped me or something.

"No," I said.

"Good.  Now the other one."

He lifted his right arm, and I leaned forward, taking a good lick of that
side too.  It tasted about the same.

"Alright.  You're clear to go.  Bring me up my lunch in an hour."

Later that night, Russ called me into his room.  He was on his bed, in his
camouflage cargo pants, reading a Tom Clancy novel.

"Shut the door and come here," he said.

I shut the door behind me and walked to the bed.  I had no idea what he
wanted from me now.

He gestured to me with his hand.  "Get on the bed," he said.

I climbed onto the foot of the bed.

He spread his legs open and patted the space beneath his crotch.  "I want
you right here."

What did he want me to do?  I crawled on my forearms between his legs,
stopping when my hands were a few inches from his crotch.

He set his book down, and grabbed me by the shoulders.  He slid my body up,
until the top half of me was on top of him, my chin at his chest level, and
his crotch up against my stomach.

"That's where I want you," he said.

He grabbed his hardcover novel and put it in front of my face, the
jacket-side facing me.

"Hold it," he said.  "And flip the pages for me."

He was seriously the laziest man I had ever known.  I grabbed a hold of the
book, holding it on his chest so that he would be able to see it easily.
At first, resting over his crotch in between his legs was really turning me
on.

But I had to do that for an hour.  It became excruciatingly boring.
Finally, he started to yawn, and told me to get out of his room for the
night.  I was happy to oblige.

*****

The next day, as I took my five-minute shower after our workout, I took my
time, not wanting to miss the opportunity to wash Russ again.

When I glided into his room, he was standing there in his briefs, sweat
covering his body.  He shook his head when I came in.

"Six minutes again.  Every day, the same thing.  What's wrong with you?  Do
you enjoy being punished?"

"No, sir," I said.

"Well, the punishment obviously hasn't been bad enough for you to get your
ass up here in five minutes.  Either that or you're incapable of learning.
Given that you are an MIT student, I find that hard to believe.  So, from
now on, the discipline is getting tighter, you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"Get over here," he said, motioning to me.

I walked towards him, feeling a bit fearful.  He looked pissed.  I stopped
when I was three feet or so from him.

"I said, come here."

I walked right up to him, not looking into his eyes.  He was staring me
down.

He lifted up his right arm, exposing his wet armpit like he had done
before.

"Clean it.  With your tongue."

"Huh?"

I felt his left hand come up and slap my cheek.  "Don't ever question me.
Just do it."

Feeling the sting in my cheek, I looked at his armpit.  It was soaked with
sweat and I could smell it from here.  Summoning up my courage, I leaned my
face towards it.

"Smell it first.  Get a good whiff."

As the tip of my nose touched his wet pit hair, I inhaled deeply through my
nostrils.  The smell was overpowering.

"Now lick it.  Lick all the sweat off."

I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and went for it, licking the moist
hairs.  A strong flavor invaded my mouth.  I had never tasted anything like
it before.

"Keep going," he said.

I continued to lick up and down his sweaty pit.  Finally, he lowered his
arm.

"Now the other," he said, lifting up his left arm.

I licked the hot sweat out of that one too.

"Good boy," he said.  "Maybe tomorrow you'll be on time.  Now get the
fucking shower started."

I went into the bathroom with the flavor of Russ's pits still lingering in
my mouth.  I stripped, and started the shower.  Russ came in a moment
later, and I took my time washing him with my hands.

After I had dried him off, he walked naked over to the toilet.  "I need to
piss," he said.  "Hold my dick for me."

This was a completely new demand.  Still naked myself, I walked over to
Russ, and stood on his right.  The toilet seat was up already.  I reached
for his cock with my right hand.  Its touch was completely familiar by now,
but I never stopped loving the feeling of it in my hand.  I aimed it
towards the toilet.

"Go ahead, sir."

Urine started pouring out of his cock and into the toilet.  After he the
stream trickled to a stop, I took my hand away.

"Uh-uh-uh," he said.  "Shake it off.  I don't want any piss stains in my
underwear."

I reached for it again, and shook it gently, sending a drop of urine into
the bowl.

"No, really shake it.  Crack it like a whip."

I shook his cock hard, sending the head flying towards the bowl, getting
another couple drops of urine out.

"Good," he said.  "That's all for now."

He turned and walked out of the bathroom.  I put my clothes back on and
left the room.

*****

The next day, as I took my timed shower, I couldn't decide whether to rush
and avoid any encounter with Russ, or to delay in order to be able to wash
his body, but at the same time risk another, worse brand of punishment.

All the deliberating eventually made my decision for me.  Without realizing
it, I had already taken five minutes in the shower.

When I got to Russ's room, he was still in his work-out shorts.  He was
waiting for my arrival, giving me a furious stare.

"Still fucking late.  Over a minute late.  You aren't even improving."

He sat down on the foot of his bed.

"Get over here," he said.

I walked slowly towards him.  When I was standing in front of him, he
lifted up his left foot.

"Get these sneakers off."

I unlaced and took off both of his shoes, leaving pristine white socks
underneath.  Not surprisingly, they smelled mildly of sweaty feet.  My
stomach churned as I realized what he was going to make me do.

"Take the socks off too.  With your teeth."

Without questioning him, I leaned forward, bit into the toe of his left
sock, and pulled it off of his foot.  I was able to do it without getting
much of the taste in my mouth.  I quickly pulled off the other sock in the
same fashion.

"Oh, don't think you're done yet, not by a long shot.  I want you to lick
these feet clean.  Every part of them."

Ugh.  This was what I had been afraid of.  I didn't know if I could handle
it, but not wanting him to hit me again, I didn't really have any choice.
I opened my mouth and started licking his toes.

The taste was bitter and unpleasant.  He made me lick all around his feet,
and unfortunately his feet were huge.  Then he made me meticulously lick
between every toe.  That was where the taste got the most revolting.

He patted me on the head when I had finished.  "Good boy," he told me, like
I was his dog or something.  "Go get that water started.

I made a bee-line for the shower, stripped, and got under the water.  I
washed my mouth out before he came in, not being able to stand the bitter
taste of his ripe feet any longer.

He walked in naked, and I remembered why I had submitted myself to this
punishment in the first place.  He was a gorgeous man.

This time, as I started washing his back, I realized that I was completely
turned on.  When I rubbed his asshole with my finger like I had always
done, I couldn't control my cock anymore.  It was starting to get hard.
Wanting my horniness to subside, I quickly finished washing his butt,
spending less time on it than usual, and then concentrated on his legs.
Luckily, I got my cock back under control by the time he turned around to
face me.  I rushed through his front like I did his butt, not wanting my
erection to return.

After I had dried him off, he gave me a troubled look.

"You know, you didn't really clean me off very well that time," he said.
"You thinking you can cut corners and I won't notice?"

"No, I cleaned you--"

"Don't talk back to me.  You think I'm clean enough, boy?"

"Yes sir," I said.  I didn't want to get back into the shower with him.

"Well then. Once again, I say prove it."

After licking his sweaty armpits, I was sure I could handle licking the
clean ones again.  But he never lifted up his arm.

"Get down on your knees, boy," he said.

Unquestioning, I dropped to my knees.  His cock was right in my face.

He turned around, giving me and eye-full of his smooth butt.  Then he
leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter in front of him.  Doing so
caused his butt cheeks to part, revealing his pink, puckered hole.

"If my asshole's clean, you won't mind licking it."  I thought his logic
was a bit off there, as usual.  "Do it!"

Startled by his sudden shout, I stuck my face between his muscular butt
cheeks, and opened my mouth.  I licked lightly up his crack, passed his
hole.

"Don't think that's all you're going to have to do.  Lick it real good," he
said.

I returned my tongue to his hole, licking it hard and furiously.  There was
a musty taste on my tongue, but it wasn't nearly as bad as his sweaty feet
had been.

"Alright, that's enough," he said.  "I guess you did clean it okay."

I stood up as he turned around and walked out of the bathroom.  I quickly
got dressed.

As I left his room, I realized I was done with being late.  Even if it
meant I had to give up my showers with Russ, I certainly didn't want to
bathe his feet with my tongue again.  And somehow I thought my continued
tardiness would only make Russ's punishment more humiliating.

For lunch that day, Russ had me feed him a large sandwich while he read the
paper.  Will came in and sat down, eating a sandwich of his own.

"Milk," said Russ.  I grabbed his glass, and lifted it to his lips as he
took a sip before putting it down again.

Seemingly disgusted, Will set his sandwich down across the table.

"That's it," he said to Russ.  "That's all I can take of this shit.  Hey,
there's nothing wrong with ordering the kid around now and then, we all do
it, we all have fun with it.  But this round the clock shit has gotten out
of hand.  For days now nobody's been able to ask Rick to do anything cause
he's always busy wiping your ass."  If he only knew how right he was.

Russ looked furious.  "I have a right to order him to do whatever I want
him to do whenever I want it done.  And last I checked, you were just
third, so you'd better just shut the fuck up and mind your own business."

But Will was unfazed.  "Look, all I'm saying is that there's a reason why
you're torturing Rick and not any of the rest of us."

"Because he needs discipline," Russ said with a firm nod.

Will shook his head.  "No, it's because you know he's the only one who will
never be above you.  So you can treat him like shit and you'll never suffer
the consequences."

Russ gave him a cold stare.  "Maybe you're right.  I am unfairly torturing
him and ignoring the rest of you.  I'll gladly rectify that.  Drop your
sandwich and stand up."

"What?"

"Do it!"

Will stood up, groaning.

Russ gestured to me.  "Rick, go sit over there and finish Will's lunch."

"What the fuck?" said Will.

"Don't talk back," said Russ, jumping to his feet.  "Will, now that you're
done with your lunch, I want you to clean my room.  Every inch better be
sparkling or I swear to God you'll be at it all night.  Do you understand
me?"

"Yeah," he said, matching his stare with a confidence that made me envious.

"That's `yes, sir' to me!" barked Russ.

"Yes, sir!" yelled Will with strong rage, still staring him down.  He
turned and walked towards the upstairs.

"That takes care of that," said Russ.  "Go ahead and eat your lunch.  Will
just did you a favor today."

I sat down and began nibbling on Will's sandwich, feeling very guilty.

After a second Russ stopped eating again.  His face looked troubled.  "You
know, it's not true what he said.  I gave Matt, Cougar, even Case the exact
same treatment as you.  Only they, for the most part, made the five-minute
showers."

I didn't say anything, I just kept on eating.

Russ didn't give me anymore orders that day.  Instead, all of his demands
fell on Will's shoulders.  I felt bad for him.  God knows I could relate.

*****

Thursday morning Russ woke me up again, making me get him breakfast.  I was
his bitch once again.

Russ worked really hard in the gym that morning, with me tagging along.  I
knew he must be preparing for his fight with Will the next day.  After a
couple of hours, he was sweatier than I had ever seen him.  Sweat was
soaking through his shorts, and he had me wipe his bare upper body off
repeatedly with his towel.

This time I ran to my shower as fast as I possibly could.  I didn't wait
for the warm water, and I didn't even bother to dress when I had finished,
I just wrapped the towel across my waist and ran through the gym to the
stairs.

Malcolm was working out alone, and he grabbed me by the chest, stopping me
mid-stride.

"Where you running so fast off to?" he asked me.

"Upstairs to Russ, I have to go."

He still held onto me.  "You and Russ.  You haven't been doing anything for
him.  You know, like you did for me?"

"No," I said.  "Please, Malcolm, let me go."

"I'll let you go," he said, but still held on.  "First, though, tell me
that I have you all to myself."

"Yes, you do!" I said, just wanting to hurry.

"Good."

Finally he let me go.  I ran upstairs to Russ's room in my towel.  He was
still in his shorts, and was looking at his watch as I came in.

"Oh," he said, shaking his head.  "Ten seconds passed.  Looks like you
still haven't gotten the picture, boy.  Everything I've tried has failed.
Shut that door."

My heart sinking, I turned and shut the door behind me.

"Get over here."

I walked slowly to where he was standing.  He stared into my eyes until I
looked away.

"Take my shoes off."

I dropped down to my knees, holding onto the sides of my towel to make sure
it wouldn't fall off.  He lifted up his right foot, and I pulled off his
sneaker.  Then I took of the other.  I was sure he'd ask me to pull his
socks off with my teeth again.

"Lie down on the floor."

It was a command that I didn't expect.  I started to lean forward into the
floor.

"On your back."

I sat up, and leaned backwards, kicking my legs out until I was lying flat
on my back, wondering what he was planning to do to me, and hoping it
wouldn't be too painful.

He stood over my legs, facing me.  Then he walked towards me until he was
standing directly over my neck.

"Take my shorts off."

At least this I would enjoy.  I reached up with both of my hands, making
contact with the waistband of his shorts.  He was staring down at me as I
pulled his sweaty shorts slowly from his thighs.  When I had pulled them
passed his knees, he lifted his left foot up and out of the shorts.  As he
set his foot back down, the shorts slid down to his right foot.  He lifted
it out of them and kicked them away.

I was staring up at Russ's tightly constrained package inside his
pristinely white briefs.  They were soaked through with sweat.

"Take them off," said Russ.

I reached my hands up again, only this time sticking my fingers into the
elastic of his briefs, touching the bare flesh of his hips.  Slowly, I
pulled them down towards me.  His thick cock came out first.  I had gotten
to know it so well.  Five and a half inches of soft meat, circumcised,
veiny.  Then his big, fuzzy balls were freed from the fabric as well.  I
pulled his wet briefs down to his knees.

Then he did something else I wasn't expecting.  He put his feet on both
sides of my head, tight against my ears.  As he closed his legs, his briefs
started to slide down his tan, fuzzy legs, landing right on my face.  The
wetness of his sweaty underwear was covering my mouth, nose and eyes.

"Take a big whiff of that."

Quick to follow orders, I inhaled deeply through my nose.  The musky,
masculine scent his crotch left on the breifs was overpowering.  He held
them against my face for what seemed like forever, long enough for me to
get used to the smell.  Then he lifted his foot up, and kicked his briefs
away, standing back over my head.

I thought I was done.  But he had more punishment on his mind.  Looking
down at me angrily, he dropped to his knees, digging them into the side of
my head.  His cock was hanging down, almost touching my nose.  This was all
I could take.  I felt my own cock spring to attention under my towel.

He grabbed his cock with his right hand, holding it up in his hand away
from me.  I was left staring straight up into his low-hanging balls.  I
remembered all the times he told me in the shower that his balls sweat more
than any other place on his body when he worked out.  Looking up at them, I
believed him.  They were glistening with perspiration.  The brown fuzz
surrounding them had matted and darkened with the moisture.  I knew then
what was coming next.

He slid his knees forward and lowered his body at the same time so that he
stayed directly over my face.  His balls filled up my field of vision as he
lowered them towards me.  He stopped when the wet hairs touched the tip of
my nose, wetting it.

"Now it's time to smell the source," he said.  "Inhale, boy!"

I inhaled again through my nose, the smell stronger than ever.  After
several good breaths, he lowered himself even more.  The tip of my nose
jutted in to the wrinkled skin of his scrotum between his balls.  As he
kept descending, each testicle ended up on either side of my nose, getting
my cheekbones wet with their sweat.  My nose was completely enveloped by
his balls.  I inhaled more, feeling drops of his sweat actually entering my
nostrils.

Then he slipped slowly down my face, freeing my nose, but covering my
closed mouth with his balls.

"Open your mouth and clean them up for me," he said.

He lifted up a bit so that his balls were hanging and inch or so above my
lips.  I opened my mouth, and leaned up, licking the bottom of his left
ball, tasting the wet, pungent hair and the salty skin.  I licked harder,
going between his two balls, and over to the right one.  I kept on licking,
getting used to the taste of it, really enjoying it.  Russ made no sign
whatsoever that he was enjoying my services, though.

"Enough of the licking," he said.  "I want you to suck all the sweat off of
them, one at a time."

I was ready to do it.  I opened my mouth wide and took his left ball into
it.  I licked it softly, not wanting to hurt him.

"Really suck on it," he said.  "You're not gonna hurt me, I'm a wolf."

I sucked hard after that, stroking it with my tongue.

"Good boy," he said, pulling out of my mouth.  "Now clean off the other
one."

I took his right ball into my mouth and sucked on it like the left one, the
sweaty taste of it saturating my mouth.  While I was doing it, he removed
his hand from his cock.  I shut my eyes as his soft cock landed on the top
of my nose, over my right eye, and onto my forehead.

"Good, that's enough," he said, pulling his testicle out of my mouth and
lifting up until his cock was off of my face again.

I leaned forward, about to get up.  Before I could, Russ placed his hand on
my chest and pushed me back down to the ground.

"You think you're done, boy?" he said.  "I'm the only one who says when
you're done, you got me?"

"Yes sir," I said, wondering what more he had planned.

He lowered himself down again until the tip of his cock gently caressed my
closed lips.

"My dick needs cleaning too.  It gets just as sweaty," he said.

I opened my mouth and licked the tip of it gently.  Then I licked around
his hanging head, which was moist with sweat, but not as foul tasting as
his balls.  I leaned upwards, licking passed his head all the way up to his
wet pubes.  I licked all around his base, his soft cock flopping around my
chin as I did.

"No," he said when I had stopped.  "No it's not clean yet.  Open your mouth
wide."

With my head against the floor, I opened my mouth.  He lowered the head of
his cock into my mouth.

"Suck it clean," he said.

On fire, I closed my lips around the rim of his head hungrily, sucking on
the head of his cock.  Lifting my head up, I took more of it into my mouth
until his balls started hitting my chin.

"Suck all that stink off of it," he said.

Then I felt his cock, which had remained completely flaccid in my mouth the
whole time, twitch suddenly.  He was getting hard!  It was the first sign I
had that he was actually enjoying himself.  His cock straightened and
lengthened in my mouth, moving towards the back of my throat.  Then,
getting completely hard, it started hitting the roof of my mouth as it
tried to point upwards.

At this point Russ was forced to shift his position.  Still on his knees,
he leaned his body forward, over my head.  He put his weight on his elbows.
Now, with his body more parallel to my own, his cock became lined up with
my throat.

For once, as he sat there with his cock plugging my mouth, he didn't give
me any instruction.  So, I kept and licking away at the underside of his
cock.  Even though I wasn't touching my own throbbing cock, I was
experiencing a pleasure so great from having his cock in my mouth that I
thought I might orgasm without any touch.

He started rocking up and down, moving his cock in and out of my mouth.  As
he pushed down, his wet, smelly pubes would stick into my nostrils.  I
wanted to grab him with my hands anywhere, but especially his muscular ass.
But I didn't dare risk it.

He kept that up for several more minutes before he stopped thrusting.  I
could tell he was tensing up.  I felt a shot of semen hit the back of my
throat.  I thought I might cough, but I resisted, letting it slide down my
throat.  His whole load followed, sliding into my esophagus without me ever
tasting it.

Slowly, he pulled his cock out of my mouth.  Once the wet tip had left my
lips, he got back up on his knees, looking into my face with that intense
stare again.  I wasn't sure if he was satisfied or angry.

"You did real good that time," he said without the hint of a smile.  He
reached back, grabbing my hard cock through my towel.  I shuddered at his
sudden touch.  "I thought as much.  You deserve some release too.  Get up,"
he said, standing up off of me himself, his cock softening fast.

I stood up, my cock obviously tenting out my towel.

"Go and get the water started," he said.  "And while you're at it, feel
free to jack off.  But there better not be any jizz sticking to the shower
floor by the time I come in there."

I walked off towards the bathroom, feeling cheated that jacking off alone
was my reward for sucking him off.  But at that point, my cock wasn't too
picky.  As the water got hot, I stroked myself hard, shooting my load with
very little effort.  I caught my load in my left hand and stuck it straight
down the drain.

Russ came in as my cock softened.  This time, washing him was much less
exciting than before, but certainly not yet a chore.  The touch of his skin
under my hands felt familiar and comfortable.  I took my time.

After our session in the bedroom, Russ pretty much backed off of me for the
rest of the night.

*****

Friday morning, Russ woke me up early again to make him eggs and bacon.
Afterwards, I expected that we would go running together--that was our
routine.

"I'd better not go for a run today," he said.  "It'll be more than enough
exercise fighting Will this afternoon, and I don't want to tire myself out.
But, you should go without me."

"Alone?" I asked.  Nobody ever let me go anywhere alone.

"Sure, it isn't for long, you should be fine.  And I don't think you're
gonna try to run off, are you?"

"No, sir," I answered.

"That's right.  You like it here, don't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Good boy.  Go take a run, shower and then come up to my room.  You can
still help me with my shower."

I was pleased at that.

It was very bizarre to jog through the streets of Philly by myself.  And I
tried to avoid suspicious looking people.  The last thing I wanted was to
run into a vampire or something.  I had gotten to a point where the runs
were becoming much easier.  I didn't need Russ the slave-driver anymore to
get me through them.  I could do them on my own drive.

After I got back, I took a nice long shower downstairs.  Russ hadn't given
me any deadline, so I took advantage of the situation.

I went up to Russ's room in just a towel again.  I figured there was no
point in getting dressed if I was just going to hop in the shower again
anyway.

Russ was lying on top of the covers of his bed, reading.  He wore his
camouflage cargo pants, and was shirtless.  He told me to shut the door as
I came in.

"I decided to hold off on the shower until after the fight," he said, never
moving his eyes from the book.  "You can help me then."

A little disappointed, I turned around to go.

"I didn't say you could go yet," he said.  I turned back around.  "I'm
trying to relax before the fight, get focused.  I need you to help me let
off some steam.  Come over here and take my pants off, boy."

"Yes sir," I said, walking to the foot of the bed, thrilled at the
possibility of helping him `let off some steam.'

I crawled up to his waist, and unbuttoned his pants.  I pulled down the
zipper quickly.  Without looking away from his book, he lifted his butt off
the bed and I pulled his pants underneath them.

He had on a pair of briefs, like usual, but this time his cock was already
hard.  The briefs were so tight that they gave away ever inch of it.  It
was sticking up against his waist, with the pink head poking out of the
waistband.  From the looks of it, he sure had a lot of steam to let off.

I finished taking his pants off.  "You know what to do," he said.

I laid down on the bed between his open legs.  Tentatively, I reached down
and touched the base of his hard cock through the white cotton of his
briefs.  I grabbed it with my hand, and moved in to the right, so that it
found its way out of his left leg-hole.  Now, about half of its length was
uncovered and sticking out.

I took the opportunity to admire it for a moment.  It was about eight
inches hard, and much thicker than my own.  It seemed as tan as the rest of
Russ's skin, and was crowned by a large, pink head.

"You're stalling," he said.

I dove down towards his cock and licked the underside of it.  I kept on
licking, all the way down to where the base disappeared inside the briefs.
I licked up to the head, licking around the rim.  I rubbed my wet lips
around his head, taking in the flavor of him.

With my left hand, I pulled the leg-hole of his briefs back to fully
uncover his cock.  His big balls fell out of the hole in the process too.
I grabbed them with my right hand, and stuck the tip of his cock into my
mouth, sucking hard.  Wanting more of him inside me, I dove down, letting
his cock slide into my throat as I breathed through my nose.  When my chin
hit his balls, I pulled back up, and then dove down again.  Up and down,
repeatedly.

All of this motion had made by towel come lose, and it came off of me on
the bed.  My hard cock was still on top of it, but my butt was in the open
air.  I looked up at Russ, but I couldn't see passed the book propped up on
his chest.  Was he really reading while I was doing this?  He flipped a
page; I guess he was.

I wanted to see his beautiful cock again; I let it out of my mouth and
starting licking the big thing up and down once more.  Then, I finally
pulled his briefs down to his knees, resting my chest on top of the tight
hammock-like surface they created between his legs.  I took the opportunity
to look at his face.  It was as stoic as ever, moving in lines across the
page of his book, with no sign whatsoever that he was enjoying himself.  I
looked back at his cock.  It was rock hard and a drop of precum had begun
to form at the slit.  If his face didn't show his pleasure, his cock
certainly gave it away.

I dug my tongue into the slit, tasting the salty precum.  Then, I dove back
down on him, wanting his cock to fill my mouth once more, playing with his
balls in my hand.

Then it hit me, I knew I wanted those balls in my mouth instead of just in
my hand.  I pulled off his cock and went for the fuzzy balls, licking at
them eagerly as his cock landed on my face.  Unbelievably turned on, I
started to grind my own dick into the towel on the bed.  The friction of
the rough fabric didn't feel all that spectacular, but at that point I
couldn't care less.

I went back to his cock, holding it up in my hand and licking it over and
over again with alarming speed.  I was grinding myself into the towel so
much that I knew I was close.

Unexpectedly, he put his bare right leg over me, with his ankle pushing
into the small of my back.  "Go down all the way," he said, still reading
his goddamn book.

I went all the way to his pubes again, and then I could feel his cock
unloading into my throat.  At the same time, I exploded into the towel.

He reached his right hand around his book and lifted my head up off his
cock.  "You better not have gotten any jizz on my bedsheets," he said.  He
must have heard my cock spurting just then.

I sat up away from him.  Luckily, the towel had completely captured all of
my semen.  I wiped my cock off one last time and then got off the bed,
putting the towel on the floor.  Russ ordered me to put his briefs and
underwear back on, which I did while he kept on reading.

"You can still give me a shower after the fight," he said.

Taking that as my cue to leave, I realized I had a predicament.  I just
came into my only garment of clothing.  I couldn't exactly walk through the
house naked, and I wasn't going to try to put a cum-filled towel around me.
I went into the bathroom, and scraped all the loose cum out from the towel
and washed it down the drain.  Then I safely wrapped it back around me, and
left the room, shutting the door behind me.

On my way down the stairs towards the 2nd story, I passed Matt, who was
going up.  He smiled at me.

"Still slaving away for Russ, huh?" he asked.

"Yep," I said, passing him in my towel.

I heard Matt knock on Russ's door and go into his room.  "I just came by to
wish you luck," he was saying.  "Are you reading for pleasure?"

I laughed at the irony of that question as I walked downstairs and got
dressed.

*****

I sat on a weight bench, hoping that the fight would end soon.  It had been
going for a half hour at least.  Russ had decided it would be a man to man
fight, so I could hear both Will and him downstairs, grunting and panting.

Finally, I heard the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"Is he down?  Is he really out?" I heard Cougar say.

"He's out.  Fight over," said Case.

I waited a few moments, listening for some clue as to who the victor was.
Then I ran down the stairs.

Russ was naked, on the ground, bloody.  Will was finishing getting dressed
in the corner, himself pretty bloody as well.

Case was leaning down, shaking Russ.  "Wake up," he was saying.

Russ jumped back to life, breathing hard.  "I'm awake," he said.  "I'm not
down."

Will was already walking towards the stairs.

"The match is over, Russ," said Case.

Completely pissed, Russ punched his hand into the concrete floor.  He
looked over at me.  "Kid, get me upstairs and clean me up!"

Will, passing me, turned around at this comment.  "No, you stay right
there, kid.  No more ordering Rick around like you've been doing, Russ.
From now on, you want something done, you order someone else to do it.
Stop picking on the defenseless one."  Right then I was so moved by Will's
actions that I wanted to reach out and hug him.  "Hurry up and get your
shit out of my room."  Will turned and walked up the stairs.

That night, I came into Russ's room as he was finishing loading his items
neatly into boxes.  He looked so down on himself that I truly felt bad for
him.

"Hey, kid," he said.  "Normally, I would have had you pack these boxes for
me, but I guess things are gonna change around here."  He finished his last
box and stood up.  "You still could use some more discipline, but you've
come a long way."

Will came into the room then.  "You're room is ready downstairs," he said.

Russ just sort of glared at him as he kicked the boxes into the hall.  Will
looked around the room, nodding his approval.

"Nice," he said.  "It's spotless.  Of course, I'd expect it to be since I
just cleaned it with my own fucking hands.  Oh, and Russ?" he said as Russ
was exiting the room.  "Since I know how anal you are about cleanliness,
you probably better give your new room a good scrubbing before settling
in."

Will smiled at him, and Russ looked furious.  He ran downstairs, with me on
his tale.

"Fucking cunt!" he said as he opened the door to Will's old room.

I followed him in.  It was pretty clean, except for one glaringly obvious
detail.  Urine was sprayed all over the floor, walls, and desk.  Will must
have just let loose moments ago.

"Six months from now and you'll be fucked!" he yelled out the door.  Will
didn't respond.

Russ cleaned up every last drop of piss that night.  While he was working,
he went into the 2nd story bathroom that he would now be sharing with three
other guys.  He was so disturbed by how dirty it was that he woke up
Malcolm and brought Matt and Cougar up from downstairs to clean it.  I
think they were at it most of the night.

I fell asleep that night while the 2nd story of the house was still alive
with activity.  It felt good to see Russ get torn down by Will, in a way it
was almost like a personal revenge from me.  It would be great to sleep in
tomorrow for the first time in ages.  But at the same time, I knew that I
would no longer get to wash Russ's body or suck him off.  I wasn't sure if
it was a good trade or not.


TO BE CONTINUED