Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2009 19:01:37 -0400 From: stories@nc.rr.com Subject: Brian's Visit 4 Brian's visit - version 2.0.0 (June-August 2009) (NC-reluctant, auth, cum denial, humil, feet, extensive drug use, unsafe-sex) stories@nc.rr.com DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of FICTION - any similarity to actual people or events is entirely coincidental. It contains adult subject matter and should not be read by any minor, person who would find such material offensive, or if it is illegal in your area. If you meet these conditions, please delete this file from your computer. This work is not to be reproduced in any manner without prior approval from the author. SPOILER ALERT: If you read the original version of this story, you might be interested in the changes I've made. If you'd like to read them, scroll to the end. If you'd rather be surprised, wait `til you're finished. AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Brian's Visit" was my first story on Nifty, originally posted seven years ago. Though this version keeps the same plot and characters, I've made widespread corrections to grammar and text to make reading easier, such as fixing my bad habit of putting dialogue and narration in the same paragraph and my apparent inability to use contractions. Additionally, Brian's character has been fleshed out a bit and the last chapter contains new information revealing his motivation for the events chronicled in this story. If you were a fan of the original, don't worry, nothing fundamental to the design changed, but this one should be easier on the eyes. Thanks for all your support! CHAPTER FOUR - SATURDAY "Come on, Ricky. Get up," Brian whispered while shaking me awake. "And be quiet. I don't wanna wake the others yet..." Forcing my eyes open, I yawned and saw my old college roommate staring down at me, grinning from ear to ear. It wasn't the same malicious grin he so often shot my way last night. Rather, this was a playful, friendly smile and it was oddly cheering. As I tossed back the covers and stood, he tenderly put his hand on my back and directed me down the hall and into the bathroom, closing the door behind us. "I thought you might like to piss and get cleaned up," he said. Standing over the toilet, I tried to aim my stiff cock down toward the bowl. It was difficult to grip, given how slippery it was, but after a few moments of straining, I managed to push through a weak stream that slowly grew into a torrent of hot, burning piss. As I sighed from the release of pressure, my dick finally became fully soft for the first time since this entire nightmare begun. Brian started the water for my shower, letting it warm while I finished. As he was doing this, I glanced at the mirror and froze where I stood. I looked like hell. Dried cum and spit covered my face, having grown crusty overnight. Opening my mouth to stretch my facial muscles, I felt the disgusting splotches crack and peel, pieces of which fell on my hand as I squeezed out my final spurts of piss. Brian stood and directed me toward the shower. "Take your time, Ricky. I'll be back in a few minutes with a towel..." He left the room, closing the door behind him, the sound of his footsteps audible as he walked down the hall. Grateful for the opportunity to shower, I climbed inside. The water felt wonderful on my tired, sore, filthy body. As I worked the soap into a thick lather, I considered last night's events. I remembered Brian arriving at my house, his cocky attitude obvious from the moment he crossed the threshold. Once we started smoking pot and relaxing, we'd ended up naked on my deck. After that, things had gone from bad to worse. I remembered the absurdly hard bone I threw while massaging his feet. Why had I done that? Maybe if I'd been strong enough to not let my penis make my decisions, things wouldn't have gotten so out of control. Slipping the soap between my legs, I massaged my sore balls, which seemed to be hanging somewhat lower than usual. Brian's attitude toward me had deteriorated further as the evening went on. While still on the deck, he'd even pissed on me! Then he brought me inside and shoved his cock down my throat. I'd been forced to my knees in my living room and had sucked his dick, begging for his cum by the end. What the hell was going on with me? I remembered when Tim, our pizza delivery guy, stopped by. My cock had refused to stop throbbing and twitching, even as the two of them took advantage of me. I'd practically drooled over his feet and very nearly had an orgasm while massaging and licking them. My cock plumped noticeably as I recalled these events and even though it begged to be stroked, I flatly refused to touch it, simply unwilling to accept that I was getting hard from these memories. I thought about how the night had progressed from there, about being caught on video taking a huge load straight out of Tim's dirty cum-crusted cock, about being taken to the parking lot of an adult video store where we met Brad, Kevin, and Phillip. I remembered how they came back to the house with us and my torment continued. My cock was completely hard by now, but still I ignored it as I cleaned the dried evidence of my slutty activities from my face. Despite the fact that I didn't want to jerk off with these images in my mind, I also didn't want Brian to come back and find me hard again. If I was gonna do it, I needed to move fast; Brian would be back any minute and this debate was getting me nowhere. Reaching down, I wrapped a soapy hand around my cock, which responded as if it was having some kind of seizure, jumping wildly and emitting a thick stream of precum, clearing a path down the soap-covered shaft. "Thank you God," I thought to myself, knowing that release was only moments away. I was gonna cum; I was finally gonna get the nut I'd so badly needed last night... Just then, Brian opened the sliding glass door of the shower stall. "You just can't keep your hands off that thing, can you?" I was dumb-founded, caught completely off guard, and nearly fell down when he opened the door, clutching the wall of the shower with one hand for support and my throbbing, unfulfilled cock in the other. I was right there, hanging on the edge of an orgasm I desperately need to have, but it was as if Brian's very presence was suppressing my release. "What are you thinking about?" he asked. That did it. Knowing I couldn't cum now, I simply released my cock and heard the slippery thing slap my abdomen hard before grabbing the towel he was holding out for me. "Nothing," I lied with a sizable amount of venom in my voice. "I was just horny. I am most mornings..." "Yeah, that happens to me too. You deserve an orgasm after what I put you through last night; you've earned it. Don't you wanna finish?" It was an unexpected offer and, I have to admit, I considered taking it, but wasn't sure I could trust him. He was probably just trying to embarrass me again, to bait me into another trap. Then again, what if he really meant it? I was too confused to take any risks this early in the day. "That's OK," I answered. "I'll be fine..." "Suit yourself," he said, "Dry off and put the towel around your waist. We need to talk..." Once I was dry, my cock had softened to some extent but still made an impressive bulge under the towel hanging from my waist. Brian led me through the house and out to the deck, sliding the patio door closed without making a sound. Taking a seat, he motioned for me to join him. As I sat, I noticed he'd raided my underwear drawer and was wearing a pair of my boxers. He offered me a cigarette and a cup of coffee, which he'd brought outside while I was showering. I accepted both and tried to relax, leaning back in the chair as he started the conversation. "Ricky, I think I owe you an apology..." I nearly choked on my coffee, certainly not expecting to hear those words. An awkward silence followed, like he was waiting for me to say something, but I was such a jumble of nerves and varied emotions I chose to remain quiet, afraid of making things worse. "About last night," he continued. "Maybe things got a little out of hand..." There was another pause, longer this time, my instincts suspecting a trap, my frosty silence providing me with a comforting measure of control. "Damn it, Ricky!" he blurted out in frustration. "Say something! I'm trying to apologize!" "I don't know what to say," I replied without looking up from my coffee. He lowered his head, appearing to gather his thoughts. For a moment, I felt sorry for him. Whatever he was trying to say was noticeably difficult. "It was wrong of me to make you do all those things. I know you wouldn't have done them if I hadn't pushed so hard..." This was unlike Brian. With every word, my anger toward him lessened and I already hated him for that, perhaps even more than for what he'd done. He was making me feel sorry for him - FOR HIM! He lifted his head, his eyes drilling into me, and finished his thought... "You're the only real friend I've ever had..." His voice cracked slightly while he spoke, but I don't think anyone other than me would have noticed. He chuckled in a self-deprecating manner as he continued... "There, I said it! You are the only person I've ever met who has the patience to put up with me..." Brian had, with just a few sentences and a display of emotion, taken the wind from my sails, making me feel like I needed to comfort him. "Brian, that's bullshit! You've got other friends. People came by our dorm room all the time to see you..." "...and all those people needed a source for weed. Think about it, Ricky. Whenever I needed something important, who was it who helped me?" "Well, we were roommates for four solid years, Brian. I knew you better than anyone else..." "And when I got into trouble and needed to move back, who agreed to take me in?" "Brian, you knew you'd be welcome here..." "That's right. I did. But what you don't know is I called five other people before I called you. None of them wanted anything to do with me. Most of the guys you remember coming by our dorm room are either married or so into their careers they wanted to stay as far away from me as possible. You're the only one who'd let me stay..." I sighed and rolled my eyes, uncomfortable with this show of emotion. "Jesus! What do you think friends do? You needed a place to crash and I had one. Big deal..." "We WERE friends," he corrected. "Now I'm afraid I've fucked things up. That's why I'm trying to apologize..." This exchange wasn't headed in the direction for which I'd prepared. Brian was showing vulnerability and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Every wall of separation I'd built last night was being torn back down. "Well, I'll say this," I replied. "What you did certainly didn't help our friendship, especially that part about turning me into your bitch!" "I'm so sorry about that," he muttered quietly. When he continued, I could tell he was having trouble finding the right words. "Listen, there's something I've been meaning to tell you ever since I got here..." "Brian, I've already figured out that you're gay. It explains why you did all those things last night and it explains why you flew off the handle when I used the word `faggot'. It's the only thing that makes sense..." "Yeah, that's part of it," he admitted slowly. "But there's more. You see, back when we were..." "I don't wanna talk about this," I interrupted callously. "Drop it, OK? Whatever you have to say, I really don't care..." In all the years I'd known Brian, I had never seen him appear hurt -- until this moment. It was a strange experience, staring into his face and seeing the sadness in his eyes, the melancholy etched on his features. At least a full minute passed before he said anything else. "Ricky, you have every right to be angry. When I saw how turned on you were last night, I thought you wanted to experiment. Maybe it was the pot, but I could've sworn you were enjoying yourself. Please tell me I wasn't totally off base. You did enjoy some of it, didn't you?" "I don't wanna talk about it," I repeated. "Come on, I feel really bad about it, more than you know. And I'll feel even worse if you didn't have ANY fun last night. Look, there's no camera and the other guys aren't here. It's just you and me, old college buddies. It'll make me feel better to know some of it was fun for you..." "Fuck, I don't know why I should be trying to make you feel better!" I rolled my eyes and put down my coffee cup, waiting for him to speak. He didn't. After a long, uncomfortable pause, I added... "OK, when we first started, when it was just you and me, I was having fun. I don't know why and I've never done anything like that before, but it was kinda cool, you know, different. You just took it too far..." I thought to myself that I'd made a nice save. "You gotta realize I was only thinking of you," he continued. "Some guys get into the rougher stuff. Occasionally, the best thing is to just go with it. Nobody gets to choose what makes them hot. When you stayed so horny, even when I kept pushing, I assumed you were getting off on it. Shit, you even stayed hard when I slapped you! I'm sorry; I just wasn't thinking..." "What about when I spit on you?" I asked viciously. "Didn't that give you a clue?" "Well, that just pissed me off," he answered honestly while looking down at the hard, wooden deck. "I'm a top, Ricky, and boys don't pull shit like that with me. Once you spit, my anger just took over. Besides, you were still hard, even during that..." "I wouldn't have been hard if I'd been able to cum," I replied while squirming in my seat, uneasy with this chat and memories it was stirring. "You gotta admit though, if nothing else, that staying hard all night was hot as fuck. I wasn't lying when I said I do that myself..." "Yeah, but you're in control when you do it yourself," I complained, trying to point out the difference. "You were forcing me to get close then forcing me to stop." "I don't think you can `force' another person to keep a hardon; that was your doing. You took a lot of drugs last night, but I never gave you Viagra or anything like that. And with all the drugs, it should've made it MORE difficult to stay hard..." Brian paused before finishing... "So let me ask again. Did you enjoy that part at least?" He flashed that amazing grin, the one guaranteed to melt my resistance. Goddamnit, why did he have this much control over me? "Shit Brian," I said, buying time, feeling like I was treading water, on the verge of going under. "Yeah, I admit it. OK, that was hot. My dick has never felt so good..." My cock pulsed strongly underneath the towel as it lengthened once more, wetting my inner thigh. Though we both noticed the impulsive bounce under the cloth, I was relieved he didn't comment. It was beginning to feel like we were friends again, that we might be able to put this behind us. "I'm glad I got something right," he said, looking relieved. "With all the mistakes I made, it's nice to know you enjoyed at least one thing..." "You need to stop being so goddamn melodramatic," I said while casually reaching for another cigarette. "...and, just for the record..." "What?" he prompted. "Nothing..." "No really, what were you were about to say?" I took a deep breath and exhaled noisily before confessing. "Just for the record, I enjoyed more than just that one thing..." There, I'd said it. What the fuck was going on? Just fifteen minutes ago, I was ready to kill him. Yet here we were, sitting outside like the best of friends again, enjoying a morning ritual. Though concerned about letting down my guard, I had to admit this felt a lot better than resentment. "Like what, exactly?" he asked, wanting details. "Brian, let's just forget it," I tried to deflect. "I can forgive you for all that shit last night, but I really don't wanna talk about it anymore. Let's just leave well enough alone..." "Oh come on, Ricky. Humor me. Besides, I think I know which parts you liked," he teased, looking up with that fucking breathtaking grin that made me melt in my chair. "OK smart-ass, what parts do you think I liked?" My cock twitched again, belching warm, slippery fluid down my thigh in anticipation. "Well, I can't say I understand it, and I'm not judging you, but for some reason you were getting off on our feet. I mean, you were showing some genuine enthusiasm. Shit, you almost shot with Tim's toes in your mouth! And the way you reacted when Kevin put his shoes by your head! You can't honestly say you weren't looking at Phillip's feet either. I was watching you all night. The only feet you didn't seem interested in were Brad's..." "Brad kept his trainers on all night; I never saw his feet..." I muttered, right away wishing I hadn't. "So I'm right then," he gloated. "You were looking..." Brian lifted one of his bare feet and gently rubbed my calf with it, nearly reaching my knee before I pushed it away. "I guess I can't really deny that," I chuckled in response. "I suppose it was kinda obvious. And I can't explain it either. I don't know why that got me so turned on..." "Hey, sometimes you gotta stop analyzing things, stop asking why, and just go with what gets you hot..." "Whatever," I said flatly, hoping that would be the end of it. "Was there anything you absolutely hated?" "You want the whole list or just the top ten?" I joked. Brian laughed but wouldn't let up, continuing to press for an answer. "Well, I might've been able to handle the pissing if it had just been us out on the deck. But letting Tim and Kevin do it too, that was just gross." "Again, that was my mistake. I'm sorry. You just seemed to enjoy it. Was there anything else?" Though I didn't want to discuss this, I couldn't seem to keep my mouth shut. Why couldn't I stop talking? "I didn't like being tied up. I know you're into that kinda thing; I saw one of your magazines. But being stretched out on the table like that was really uncomfortable. My arms and legs still hurt..." "Well damn! Tying you up was my favorite part. If I'd been more careful, would it have still bothered you?" "Yes! Well, I don't know," I answered, growing flustered. "I mean, you didn't have to do that..." "What do you mean? Didn't have to do what?" "Shit Brian, as horny and fucked up as I was last night, I'd have done what you wanted without being tied up. You could've talked me into just about anything..." It was like someone had given me a fucking truth serum. Jesus Christ! Why the hell was I admitting all this? And why the fuck did it feel OK to be admitting it? And most importantly, why was my cock now pointing straight up underneath the towel while I made no attempt whatsoever to hide it? Brian was also getting hard, his cock beginning to fill out the boxers he'd stolen. "I don't believe that, Ricky! You were resisting the whole time..." He'd just provided me a way out. I knew I should take it while it was still available. But having started down this road, I couldn't bring myself to start back-pedaling now. "I'm telling you, Brian. I'd have sucked you guys without the ropes..." Why was I still saying these things? I simply couldn't control the words spilling from my mouth, admitting to a man I hated only fifteen minutes ago the most embarrassing things possible. Somehow, it didn't seem as difficult without a camera filming every word and a gang of horny guys circling me like vultures. "At least I wasn't a total fuck-up last night," he stated with an atypical tone in his voice, leaving his exact meaning difficult to decipher. "But are we still friends? I can leave if you want. After what happened, I'd understand if you wanted me out of your house." I rolled my eyes at the sheer stupidity of the question. "We're still friends, Brian. And you don't need to leave. I promised you a place to stay and I have no intention of kicking you out..." He sighed deeply, unmistakably thankful, and flashed his famous smile at me before continuing... "Well, let me go get rid of the guys. Since we were all wasted last night, I thought I'd let them sleep in, but it's time for them to be on their way..." When he stood to go back in the house, I noticed how much our chat had affected him. His prick was completely erect, forcing him to adjust his bone inside the boxers before turning toward the door. Another pearl of goo pumped from my cock and soaked into the tented towel. "Wait!" Brian turned to look at me, but I never saw his face. The skin-covered head of his cock was pointed up, peaking over the waistband of the boxers where he'd trapped it, preventing it from flopping around. I lost my train of thought and must've looked like a starving dog. "What?" Brian asked impatiently. "Why are you sending them home? I thought they were gonna stay with us all weekend. They're gonna be pissed. By now, they've probably lost their reservations at the beach..." He laughed hard before answering, apparently finding the comment amusing. "That was when they thought you were gonna be our party slut all weekend. I have no intention of putting you through any more of that. I'm lucky you forgave me for last night..." He took another step toward the door. My cock leapt under the towel, once again making my decision for me. "Brian, stop!" He froze in mid-step, his hand on the door handle and his upper body twisted toward me, accentuating his perfect torso. "What now? Are you telling me you WANT them to stay?" "I don't know," I whined pathetically. That much was the truth. In fact, I was more confused at that moment than I'd been my entire life. On the one hand, if they left, I could close the book, so to speak, on these events. Then, if Brian and I decided to try some more "experimenting", we could do it alone and with some measure of privacy. On the other hand, I was starting to view what happened yesterday in a different light. It suddenly didn't seem so bad. Rather, it seemed daring and exciting. Brian, who'd never been known for his patience, wasn't prepared to stand there forever while I sorted out this whole mess in my head. "Hey man, you decide. It's your house. But I gotta tell you, if they stay, we'll be drinking and smoking weed, and they're gonna want to do more `stuff' to you. I'd feel really bad if you got in over your head." "I think I'd like them to stay," I said quietly. "I can handle it..." Brian shook his head and returned to his chair, the folds of his foreskin beginning to glisten from his moisture. My groin spasmed, sending more fluid into my towel. Since the fabric at the tip was already saturated, a shimmering pearl of clear precum seeped through the terrycloth, beading on top of the tent I was throwing. When Brian sat down, he lit another cigarette and stared at me for a moment. "I don't know what to think, Ricky. I came out here to apologize for what we did last night and now you're telling me you want more of the same..." As he talked, the weight of his substantial cock pushed the waistband of his underwear lower along the shaft, exposing it inch by inch and causing it to tilt forward. The moist skin was pointed straight toward me and I was looking at it far more often than Brian's face. He snapped me from my trance when he spoke again, his tone significantly more harsh... "Are you listening to me, boy?" Mesmerized, I responded without objecting to the term "boy". "I think that, well, maybe I'd like them to stay..." "There'd better be no `maybes' about it, Ricky," he said aggressively. "You need to decide. If they stay, it means you're gonna be our slutboy after all. I intend to be stoned most of this weekend. I can promise to keep you safe but, beyond that, I won't be responsible for anything that happens..." More of his cock slipped free. I impulsively licked my lips. "And by the way," he continued. "If they stay, we're gonna continue your training. You won't be allowed to cum. And unless I decide to allow it, you won't be touching your cock." When he said the word "cock", his dick broke free completely, poised in mid-air, the tight skin beginning to slide down the shaft. Knowing the effect this would have on me, he just let me stare. As the drippy head emerged from the hood, the final vestiges of my pride slipped away. I couldn't help myself... "Brian, can I touch your cock?" There was no hesitation in my voice. I wasn't drunk, high, or being coerced. Yet, my request had all the conviction a parched man would use when asking for water. "I guess I got my answer," Brian said smugly. As he stared at me, he appeared to thinking about something... "Before we get started, let me ask you something. Do you want me to ask the guys to stop being so spiteful? I think I can convince them to stop calling you names. Some boys find that exciting and some boys don't. Which kinda boy are you?" "Why does that matter?" I asked. "It matters because I want you to enjoy this! There's nothing in it for me if you get upset and end up never wanting to do this again! Now tell me, does the nasty talk turn you on or not!" "It kinda does..." I admitted softly. "S-W-E-E-T..." he said slowly with a broad grin. He stood and approached my chair, his firm erection pointed at me like a torpedo, a drop of precum clinging tentatively to the head. My fingers inched upward to embrace the impressive shaft. "Put your hands down, Ricky. Don't touch it." He reached down and squeezed one of my nipples, causing me to toss my head back and groan in pleasure. "For the last time, tell me what you want. I need to be sure..." "God Brian, I want them to stay. I wanna do it. You guys can be as nasty as you want. Just please don't send them away!" His friendly smile evaporated, replaced by the naughty grin he'd used last night. I knew that my life had just changed forever. "Stand up!" he commanded, pleased by my immediate compliance. He removed the towel around my waist, revealing my slime-covered erection before continuing. His voice was calm, but intensely serious... "The next time you put on clothes will be Tuesday morning when you're getting ready for work. I don't care where we go or what we do; you're gonna be naked while we're doing it. And you won't touch that cock of yours, will you?" "No," I answered without hesitation. "I won't touch it. I promise..." Brian chuckled at my new-found enthusiasm. "Well, that's not likely to happen unless I can think of a way to make it entertaining. Who owns that useless dick between your legs?" "You do..." "For the rest of this weekend, you belong to me...right?" My pulsating cock drooled on the deck as he twisted my nipple again. "Yes," I moaned. "I belong to you..." Curiously, these simple words, "I belong to you", were not humiliating to speak. In fact, I found them uplifting and oddly arousing. Life, as I'd known it all these years, was over. Brian was about to guide me into an entirely new chapter. "That's a good boy," he praised. After a quick chuckle, he lifted my chin and looked closely at my face, adding, "Ricky, are you sure you don't wanna hear what I've been trying to tell you all weekend?" Whatever it was he wanted to say was clearly very important for him to get off his chest. Still, I didn't think my over-loaded brain could handle any more information, not just yet. "Brian," I said slowly. "I really wanna do this but you gotta understand something. I'm really nervous and more than a little scared. If you drop one more surprise on me, I might change my mind. Can it wait until later?" "Sure. I've waited three years already. A few more days won't hurt. Now get your ass inside and make us something to eat. The guys are gonna be hungry once I wake them up." While Brian walked through the house rousing the others, I began to cook. Though I don't generally keep much food on hand, I had stocked up this week in preparation for Brian's visit. We had eggs, bacon, and ample bread for making toast. I berated myself for not owning a microwave when I painfully discovered how difficult it is to fry bacon in a skillet while naked. As the guys began to wake up and wander around the house, they whistled at me, tossing vulgar remarks in my direction. After this morning's confessional on the deck, I knew I was in for much worse than simple teasing. The thought made my dick jump. Tim helped Brian bring the table back into the kitchen and started putting the chairs in place. By the time I finished cooking, they'd all finished their showers and each was working on a cup of coffee. In an odd way, I almost forgot about being naked and just focused on being a good host to my guests. Since we only had four chairs, Brian and I sat at the counter, leaving the table to the other four. After everyone was settled, I picked up my fork and started to eat. "What do you think you're doing?" asked Brian. "I was gonna eat breakfast," I responded meekly. "Wait until we're finished," he ordered. "We might need something and you need to be ready to serve us like a good little waitress." Kevin looked up with his mouth full, laughing at me with his eyes while shaking his head. I lowered my fork and waited, watching them eat the food I'd prepared, occasionally getting up to refill their coffee cups. "Hey Miss," Tim said with the same polite voice one uses in a restaurant. "Can I have some more bacon, please?" "I'm sorry. We don't have any more..." "Sure we do. It's right there on the counter." He was, of course, referring to my plate. "But that's what I was gonna eat. You know, after you guys finish." "Now Ricky, that's not very nice," Brian scolded. "You need to start thinking less about yourself and more about the guests you begged to stay here this weekend. Don't start being selfish now. Now give Tim the bacon..." Taking my plate to the table, I allowed Tim to steal the meat from it. "You know," added Brad. "I could use another piece of toast." I held out the plate, letting him take what he wanted, before deciding to just leave it in the middle of the table. I returned to the counter and sat beside the man I was quickly beginning to think of as my master. "That's a good little hostess," praised Brian. "Now you're getting the hang of it. Just a few more minutes and we'll be finished. Then you can eat and clean the kitchen while we decide how to spend the day..." As they continued to eat, more of my food disappeared. Soon, there were only a few leftover pieces of egg and a half-eaten slice of toast remaining on my plate. After they finished, Brian pushed away from the counter and stood, stretching his strong arms high above his head, causing his well-defined chest to stand out even more than usual. He walked to the table and looked down at the meager remnants of food on my plate. "That was an awesome breakfast, Ricky," he said. "But I feel kinda bad that we didn't leave much for you. Hey, wait a minute! I know how to make it up to you..." He pulled his cock through the fly of his boxers and started stroking it at the table. I felt a lump growing in my throat. "A little cream sauce is delicious on eggs..." My face flushed bright red as he continued to stroke, working his shaft over my mostly empty plate. The other guys broke into fits of the same unruly frat boy laughter I'd heard so often last night. "Dude, that is so fucking gross!" commented Phillip. "Are you seriously gonna do that?" "Fuck yeah, our waitress deserves a tip, don't you think? Actually, any of you guys who enjoyed your breakfast oughta contribute." "Hell yeah, I'm in," said Tim as he stood and pulled out his cock. After getting it semi-hard, he skinned it back. I was horrified to see how much of last night's congealed jizz remained under his foreskin. "Fuck man! Don't you ever clean that thing?" asked Brad. "I know, dude, and you just got outta the shower!" replied Phillip. "Shit guys, I just forget about it. Besides, the faggot was drooling all over this last night. You saw it on the video. Anyway, lots of people like cheese in their scrambled eggs." Tim fingered the rim of his cock, gathering the foul, gelatinous cum, and smeared it over the eggs remaining on the plate. He and Brian were fully hard and masturbating wildly when the other three stood to join them. Kevin spoke for the group... "I wouldn't normally do this kinda thing, but it was a good breakfast and we're saving a small fortune this weekend by crashing here. I guess it's for a good cause." Suddenly, Brian was speaking to me. His voice wasn't rude or at all unpleasant, but he left little doubt that he was to be obeyed. "Ricky, get out from behind that counter and stand where I can see you." As I hopped off the stool and moved into the kitchen, my five guests were engaged in a circle jerk over my plate of cold eggs and toast. I couldn't take my eyes off them. My own erection, which had subsided to some extent while I was cooking, predictably rose again. Since Brian had ordered me not to touch myself, I refused to even wipe off the built up precum hanging lewdly from the tip. Now that I was watching the show in front of me, my angry cock was leaking a new batch. In under a minute, I was insufferably hard, with a strand of juice dangling at least six inches from the moist crown of my bouncing prick... Brian noticed my body's response. "Look at that, guys! Our sweet little host likes the idea of what he's gonna eat. Makes his pussy mouth water, I bet." Tim was the first to cum. "Oh God, I'm gonna shoot. Quick, gimme that plate!" Brian hastily slid the plate to Tim, who pointed his hard cock downward, clearly aiming for my eggs, just in time to unload a massive puddle of milky white onto them. My own pulsing dick spasmed upward, burping another jewel of precum and extending the thread wagging from my cocktip. "Fuck guys, I'm gonna cum," screamed Phillip. He tore the plate away from Tim almost before he'd finished milking out his last few drops. Phillip's load spat viciously into the center of the plate, adding another healthy dose of morning cum to Tim's. "I'm almost there," informed Kevin, "but I can't point my cock down like that and shoot..." He was right. His cock was the hardest, most unyielding thing I'd ever seen, anchored deep inside his body. Now fully engorged, it couldn't be angled downward sufficiently to hit the target. Pulling his foreskin over the head, he pinched it off while maneuvering the plate with his other hand. After picking up the half-eaten piece of toast, he held it over the plate, in front of his cock like a shield, and released his jizz... "Jesus Christ! Yeah, you motherfucker, you'd better enjoy this..." My cock bounced acrobatically when his massive, morning load of chunky, viscous spooge exploded from his dick and splashed into the toast. I could've sworn it almost knocked it out of his hand. The thick cream kept spurting as Kevin cursed throughout his orgasm. Finally spent, he tossed the soiled toast, cum-side up, back on the plate and milked his dick to empty the last few drops. Brian was impressed... "That was fucking awesome, man! You got talent. The boy's gonna like that one, nice and chewy." "Quick, gimme the plate!" demanded Brad just in time to dump his own big load into the growing puddle of juice. "Damn," he added while wiping the sweat from his forehead. "That was a nice way to start the morning, the best part of waking up! Hope you enjoy it, faggot!" "My turn," said Brian, "then we can let the boy eat. Hand me the plate." Brian gave his cock a few final strokes before letting loose a torrent of cum that hit the plate with enough force to cause a loose piece of egg to break free and bounce across the table. By now, there was at least twelve inches of precum swinging from the head of my own pounding erection. At the bottom of the strand was a dewy, crystal pearl, which jerked up and down when I saw his second and third jets of semen join the first. Once he finished, there wasn't a single piece of food that hadn't been contaminated by jizz in one way or another. "Whew! That was nice," he said, "and I feel better knowing that Ricky's gonna have a nutritious, well-balanced breakfast this morning." After stowing his cock inside the boxers, he added, "Get out of his way, guys. He deserves to sit for breakfast. I think he's waited long enough. Come on, Ricky, sit down and eat. You gotta keep your strength up..." I moved to the table and looked down at the filthy mess on my plate. The guys were good, not a single drop of cum had missed the target. I could barely even see the eggs anymore. As I stared at my breakfast, it dawned on me that the wads from each of the five guys were distinct in appearance, allowing me to tell which load came from which guy. The spooge from Brian, Tim, and Brad was typical in consistency, whitish, not overly runny, but not exceptionally thick either. Phillip's load was very fluidic, most of it almost clear, with a few strands of milky white streaking through the liquid. Kevin's semen had to be the thickest. Shit, his cum was so substantial it looked almost chewy. Long, nasty curds of it clung to the piece of toasted bread with the residual strands decorating the eggs, looking like someone had poured Elmer's glue over my meal. I surprised a few of them when I picked up my fork and, after stirring the eggs once or twice, placed a large portion in my mouth and swallowed. After another, Kevin tapped my shoulder to get my attention... "Don't forget the toast..." I picked up the mucky piece of bread and took a big bite. Kevin's bulky cum entered my mouth with it. It was so thick the bread wasn't even soggy; it simply clung to the surface like strands of icing. His load tasted sweet, not bitter like the others. "Shit," I thought to myself, "I'm turning into a jizz connoisseur, eating cum for breakfast and fucking enjoying it." One of them, I don't know who, patted me good-naturedly on the back as they filed out of the kitchen and into the living room. As Brian left, he turned and spoke... "Nice job, Ricky. No bitching or anything. I think you're getting into the spirit of things. Don't forget, this is what you wanted. I didn't push you into it; in fact, I tried to talk you out of it. Now finish your breakfast and clean up the kitchen. And don't touch your cock. You remember our agreement, don't you?" "Yes, I remember," I answered with a mouth full of eggs and cum. By the time I finished in the kitchen, it was nearly one o'clock and the guys were trying to decide what to do next. Brian asked about the lake down the path behind my house and I told him that it was a short walk, no more than five or ten minutes. When he asked how private it was, I confessed that it was very isolated. In fact, except for the actual path and the shoreline, most of the lake area was wooded and overgrown. "Great, let's go!" he said while collecting his bong and the weed. Tim and Brad grabbed the rest of our beer while Phillip snagged a few towels. I froze in place for a moment, considering if I should request a pair of shorts, before realizing I could get into trouble for such a question. Though he still seemed to get a kick out of humiliating me, Brian wasn't being overly cruel and I didn't want to risk returning to the Brian of yesterday. I walked out into the open daylight, naked as the day I was born. A playful slap stung my ass as the guys followed me down to the water's edge. For what it's worth, we spent a very pleasant afternoon together. Though they continued to call me all manner of nasty names, they treated me like one of the guys. Realizing quickly that no one was going to catch us, I began to relax and have fun, as if this was just a typical vacation. All of us spent time in the water, playing games and enjoying the warm sunshine. By late in the day, I wasn't even the only one naked, as the others had stripped to go skinny-dipping and get an early start on their tans. My cock alternated between soft and hard all day, as Brian took great joy in getting me turned on repeatedly, pushing me to the edge before stopping completely. Sometimes he'd tell me to look at his cock; sometimes he'd touch mine gently until it was thick and swollen, jerking in the air and leaking freely. And sometimes he'd just put his big feet on my face to watch how my dick responded, getting a huge kick out of pointing out to the others how turned on this made me. During one hour that afternoon, he and Tim played a game with me while the others were swimming. Each one got a minute to keep me hard and pumping precum, but they weren't allowed to make me shoot. I was in ecstasy, my head blissfully thrown back and my hips humping thin air in a futile effort to cum. The pain I had experienced yesterday by not being able to orgasm was replaced by untainted pleasure. This time it truly felt nice to be so close to the edge for so long. A few times, I could've sworn I actually had cum, the muscles between my ass and nuts would go insane, pumping like mad, while Brian and Tim just sat and watched my frustration. There was precum everywhere; my nuts were covered and even my ass felt wet. I gave short blowjobs to everyone, with the notable exception of Kevin, who kept reminding me he was saving it for my ass. I knew I was going to be fucked before the day was over but really didn't care anymore. By this time, I was interested as to how it would feel and knew that if I kept Brian and the other guys happy, I'd be more likely to enjoy it, especially since it was going to happen now whether I wanted it to or not. Finally, the sun got a little too low in the sky and the temperature began to drop enough to be uncomfortable, so we gathered what few things we'd brought with us and headed back to the house. While we walked, I kept wondering exactly what would happen next. The afternoon had been more enjoyable than I could have possibly hoped and I was filled with anticipation over what they might ask me to do now. My cock never got soft during the entire walk back, sticking out from my crotch like a lewd compass needle, pointing us toward the house. As we stepped onto the deck, Brian turned to me and said... "Go in the house and lie on the floor, face up, head near the couch, feet pointed toward the patio door." After opening the door, I instantly moved into position without complaint, my heartbeat plainly visible in my swollen cock. Brian sat on the very edge of the couch, his soft cock and balls hanging over, swinging directly over my face. Since he hadn't pulled the patio curtain closed, the slowly setting sun shone through the glass door, the rays of light catching a small bead of precum that was clinging to the tight folds of his foreskin, reflecting off the drop like a gleaming diamond. When he leaned back to relax, my view became less desirable, but within seconds his left foot was resting on my face. My tongue immediately darted out to wash the underside of his dirty foot while my fingers massaged it gently, working out the tension from our brief walk from the lake. Brian paid no attention to my worshipful service, however, completely ignoring me as he spoke to Kevin. "Hey, can one of you guys run out and pick up more beer? We've already gone through everything Ricky had in the house. I've got some cash if you need it..." "Yeah, we'll go," answered Kevin as he stood and tapped Phillip on the shoulder, "but we don't need your money. A few cases of beer are still a lot cheaper than the hotel we were gonna stay at this weekend..." After he and Phillip headed for their car, Brad and Tim got comfortable, watching with amusement as I played with Brian's massive feet. Tim reached for the pot and discovered we'd already gone through most of it. "Hey dude, we got a problem. We're not even halfway through the weekend and we're almost outta weed..." "No worries, man," said Brian calmly. "I've still got some connections, even out here in backwater country." Then, after lifting his feet from my face, he peered down at me and said, "Hey foot-licker, bring me the phone..." I sprang to my feet, grabbed the cordless from the charging cradle and gave it to Brian. Without being told, I returned to the floor to finish his massage. The phone beeped as he dialed and just a few moments later, he was speaking... "Jesse, my man! How's it going?" By this time, Tim had packed the last of our original bag and was toking heavily off it while the rest of us listened to Brian deal. "Yeah, I know it's been a while. (PAUSE) Listen, I need some things for a party tonight. (PAUSE) Really, how much? (PAUSE) You got anything special on you? I mean, the party we got planned is gonna get a little freaky, if you know what I'm talking about. (PAUSE) Goddamnit Jesse, I'm not stupid. I know you can't talk about it on the phone. (PAUSE) OK, what have you got going on tonight? (PAUSE) Well then, why don't you just come over and bring what you've got. I mean, why nickel and dime it when you can score big from one house call? (PAUSE) Jesse, have I ever screwed you over? Yes, I'm positive we have the cash..." Brian gently nudged me with one of his feet as his spoke those words and I knew I'd be paying for whatever it was he was trying to buy, especially since he still had my wallet. He continued to talk with his dealer... "Yeah, that sounds good. (PAUSE) Listen, we're partying out here in the country tonight. It doesn't even feel like civilization anymore. (PAUSE) As you're driving, you might think you've gotten lost; but trust me, if you follow my instructions, they'll take you right to the house..." Brian proceeded to give Jesse detailed directions to my home, stopping once or twice to ask me the name of a street or what landmark he could use to tell if he was headed in the right direction. Finally, after Jesse felt comfortable with the instructions, Brian finished the conversation... "Thanks Jesse, I'll definitely owe you for this one. If you feel like hanging out for a while after you get here, I know the owner of the house won't mind. (PAUSE) Sure thing dude, we'll be looking for you. See you later..." I heard the phone being placed on the small table beside the couch. "We're gonna get hooked up fucking awesome tonight, guys!" Brian said proudly. "Jesse always has the most potent shit..." "Fucking-A then," yelled Brad, already sounding slightly buzzed. There was a short pause in the conversation; only the noise of lighters being struck and the bubbling of water from the pipe covered the silence. I soon smelled cigarette smoke mixed with the sweet aroma of weed. Brian abruptly removed his feet from my face and stood in front of the couch. "If you guys will excuse us, I need to talk with our host and get him ready for tonight. Come on, boy...on your feet." The fucked up laughter of two guys getting stoned grew distant as Brian led me down the hall to the bathroom. It disappeared altogether when he shut the door behind us. "Do you still wanna to do this?" he asked. "If you're having second thoughts, I'll understand. Think before you answer, though. If you decide to go through with this, you'll be doing whatever we want for the rest of the weekend..." "Well," I stammered, "that depends on what you guys are gonna do." "We're gonna fuck you, dude!" he said loudly. "Jesus, haven't you figured that out yet?" "That's not what I meant," I answered apprehensively, looking past my hard dick to the floor below. "I knew that was gonna happen, but I've never done any of this before. Do you think I'll like it?" Brian made an unpleasant face that worried me. "Well, I've never done it! I'm a top, remember? From what the guys I've been with tell me, it'll hurt like a motherfucker in the beginning. But I think you'll like it by the time you get used to it. But you know how I get when I'm drunk and stoned. I can't promise it'll be gentle..." There was an uncomfortable moment where neither of us said anything. Finally, he spoke again... "I can tell you're not sure. Never mind, I'll go get rid of the other guys. Once they're gone, we can try it alone. You shouldn't lose your cherry during a gangbang, dude. That's just way too intense..." He turned and put his hand on the doorknob. "Wait!" I practically shouted. Lowering my voice, I added, "I'll do it. I wanna do it. But can ask a favor?" "What kinda favor?" he asked while narrowing his eyes. "Please don't tie me up tonight. Do anything else you want, seriously, anything. I don't care. Just don't tie me up..." "Wow," he said, clearly surprised by my request. "I was expecting you to say something else, like `please, don't piss on me' or `don't use the camera'. You really didn't like the whole bondage thing, did you?" "No, I hated it. And when this all started, you said if there was something I didn't like, we wouldn't keep doing it..." Brian thought for moment, considering my request and working out a compromise in his mind. "You know, I usually don't let my boys tell me what to do. How about this? No ropes as long as you're being cooperative..." "Deal," I answer calmly, not believing I was actually negotiating terms for getting fucked tonight. "I'll do anything you say, I promise..." Brian ran one hand soothingly over my head, his fingers combing through my short hair, massaging my scalp lovingly. I was startled by this natural act of intimacy, which was peculiar given that I'd just agreed to let this man fuck me. He must have remembered my admission that "dirty talk" made me excited because he leaned into me, placed his lips by my ear and started whispering... "Spoken like a true pussy! Not using ropes is fine by me. That way, it won't seem like we're forcing you. You'll be taking cock like a genuine slut, isn't that right? You wanna be our little whore tonight, Ricky?" My breath began to come in short, rasping gasps due to the importance of what I was preparing to say and do. My untouched erection throbbed, vigorously bouncing and dripping absurdly between my shaky, unstable legs. Looking back on it, this was quite possibly the most significant point, psychologically anyway, of the entire weekend... "Yes Sir," I whispered. "I wanna be your whore..." He abruptly whirled me around to face the toilet and spread my legs until I was straddling the bowl, my hands intuitively rising to the wall for support. Looking down, I saw my bloated cock, unnaturally hard and soaking wet. "Don't move," he instructed. "Do everything I tell you, exactly when I tell you. And I don't wanna hear a single word come outta your cock-sucking mouth until we leave this room. Do you understand me?" "Yes," I answered. A painful slap connected with my ass. "Apparently, you didn't," he corrected. "I said not a word! Let's try that again. Do you understand me?" Alarmed by his capriciousness, I nodded in silence to indicate my understanding. "That's better! Bend your knees and squat. Yeah, that's it. Put your ass about a foot above the toilet. Keep your head down. There, right there, now hold that position..." Water began to run in the bathroom sink and I heard the door open, but not close again. I resisted the urge to move or look up, choosing instead to simply maintain this awkward position over the toilet. Truly humiliated, I was certain he'd gone to get the others so they could witness my shame. Fortunately, that wasn't the case. Brian soon returned and shut the door behind him. I could tell it was Brian because, from this position, I recognized his feet when they carried his perfect frame back into the room. Embarrassed, I belittled myself for being able to pick out his feet from the others. What kind of guy can recognize someone based on a quick glance at their feet? Though I could not determine what Brian was doing, I did notice when he spread my ass-cheeks and exposed my hole. I hadn't expected him to fuck me in here, not in the bathroom! In an effort to control my panic, I reminded myself that I'd asked for this. Shit, I'd practically begged for it. Bracing against the wall, preparing for the pain, I prayed that after the initial shock I could relax and enjoy it. If I couldn't, this was going to be an incredibly long and unpleasant night... As I prepared for the inevitable, the tip of something cold slipped inside my ass without generating any pain at all. Whatever he was doing, he was surely not trying to get his cock inside me. Then I experienced a different sensation, something warm and wet flooding my interior. It wasn't awful, just exceedingly odd, and I realized it was water from the sink. Just when I thought I couldn't hold any more, he quickly yanked the object from my ass and yelled... "SIT!" I let my knees give way and descended to the bowl, the water inside my ass rushing out in a single, continuous torrent. My movement allowed me to catch a glimpse of an enema bottle in Brian's hand. After the flow subsided, Brian reached around and flushed the toilet. "UP!" Obediently returning to this degrading position, I waited for Brian to refill the bottle and penetrate my hole again, filling me with the warm fluid. We repeated these up and down cycles several times, until I noticed the expelled water was now completely clear. After the next "UP" command, the water from the sink stopped flowing. Resisting the desire to know what was happening, I kept my head down, my eyes focused on the leaky head of my cock. Something different pressed against my hole, something bigger, but he didn't try to force it inside. Rather, he simply positioned it against the ring of muscle guarding the entrance. There was a sudden rush of another liquid, this time colder and thicker. I turned my head to look, but quickly lowered it when Brian's big hand landed on my ass. "You gotta learn to follow instructions better, Ricky. Keep your fucking head down. This is just a little lube to take the edge off. Those guys will be fucked up and horny tonight, and they won't be concerned about your comfort. As much as I know you'll like it, I don't want us to hurt you. You'll thank me for this later..." Brian removed the container from my hole and quickly replaced it with the tip of his index finger, dragging an involuntary moan from my lips. "Calm down, Ricky," he coached. "I'm just checking to make sure you're ready. Goddamn, you're tight!" The finger teased and prodded my asshole, prompting the entrance to tense in anticipation. Brian smacked my ass playfully and I relaxed momentarily, long enough for him to insert his finger to the first joint. I stifled another moan and Brian pulled out, allowing some of the lube to flow from the opening. Using the same finger, he massaged the tight ring of twitching muscle, sending waves of pleasure to my dick. Curious over my body's reaction, I focused my eyes on my raging boner. As he slipped inside again, deeper this time, my cock knotted up and belched a silvery strand of precum that hung precariously from the slit, swinging wildly as Brian pushed in and out. With every stroke, my cock expanded in girth and the filament of goo grew longer. In no time at all, his knuckles were brushing against my ass, the entire digit buried inside! He then began to punch in and out rapidly, giving me a hard, rough finger-fuck while I squatted over the toilet. My balls were riding up and I knew I was about to orgasm. Rising up on my toes, I pushed my ass back to meet the ramming finger. Then suddenly, it was gone... "Your pussy is enjoying this way too much. We gotta stop for now. But, believe me, you're more than ready. By the way, so far you're the only one here that knows that I'm gay. Well, Jesse knows but he's not here yet and if I keep his secrets, he'll keep mine. After tonight, I'm gonna tell them the truth, but I'm afraid if I do it now they'll bolt for the door. So I'll be keeping up this stupid straight act at least through this evening. I didn't want you to get confused or say something you shouldn't. You can't just blurt out something like that, OK?" "Yeah, I understand. Do you think they'll be fine with it? After you tell them I mean?" "Well, I've known Kevin for years and I think he might be bisexual anyway. So he'll be cool with it. And I'm pretty sure Tim will be fine too. He's just a fucking horn-dog. But I'm not so sure about Brad and Phillip. They're both obviously straight." "Wait, can I ask a stupid question?" "Better than anyone I know..." I rolled my eyes at Brian's attempted humor and was lucky I didn't get slapped for it. "Seriously, why would straight guys be interested in fucking me?" Brian laughed out loud at my naivete. "Because they'll see other guys fucking you and won't be able to resist. You really don't get it, do you? I'm having as much fun playing with them as I am playing with you..." After noticing the confused look on my face, he continued. "I like seeing how far I can get straight guys to go. Honestly, watching Brad and Phillip fuck your brains out will be almost as hot for me as fucking you myself...almost..." He swung me around by the shoulder and escorted me from the bathroom, down the hallway, and back into the living room. Thanks for all the encouragement! Keep reading!