Date: Mon, 17 Dec 2018 19:35:30 +0000 From: Jake Tam Subject: Servant to a Soccer Stud - Chapter 16 Thank you, readers, for all the positive feedback and suggestions. I know from personal experience that there are some series on nifty that (i) I eagerly look for new chapters on a near-daily basis; and (ii) I go back and re-read (and jerk off to) old chapters even after the series is finished. You know the ones. I hope many of you out there treat this series the same way. Nifty donations page: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html SERVANT TO A SOCCER STUD CHAPTER 16 "First things first. Connor, strip." Brad commanded. I immediately tore off my clothes -- all of them -- and was completely naked within seconds. "Ha ha ha." Brad laughed. "Both you fags have your pussy dicks standing at full attention. Your little willies hard for me?" Brad said using a baby-like voice. Even Brad's deliberately higher-pitched voice sat at a lower register than my normal voice. Tommy started to speak, but I could tell his stutter was not letting the first syllable come out, so I jumped in, "Yes, God. Of course you excite us. We can't fight it. You control us. You own us." Tommy turned his head to look at me. He looked distressed, but then again, he had a raging hard-on covered in pre-cum, and in any event, what could I do? If Tommy didn't want to be here, it was on him to say so. Yet, he agreed to spend the summer with the Petersons, and now Thanksgiving. He agreed to join Brad's rooming group at college so Tommy could wait on Brad hand and foot 24/7. Sure, Brad had pics and vids of Tommy's sexual services in action, but somehow I knew Tommy's gay submissive DNA, like mine, made Tommy a willing participant. He may have detested many of Brad's methods from a certain perspective, but Brad was so hot, celebrity-level hot, and Tommy so gay and so sub, that from another perspective, making Brad happier by subjecting himself to those methods ultimately made Tommy happier. Brad swung around on Kyle's bed and proceeded to kick Tommy hard in the face, causing Tommy to fall backwards. "You stupid cunt. See how good Connor is at answering my questions?" By then, Tommy had uprighted himself in position so he could receive another kick from Brad. And that's exactly what Brad gave him, and again Tommy fell backwards. "Fuck, I fuckin' hate you, you low-life queer." Again, Tommy resumed his position on his knees at a perfect distance to receive more of Brad's kicks. Brad continued, "Connor's 3 full years younger than you and he's smarter than you. Why is that, you dumbass fuck?" This went on for at least 10 more rounds, each time a kick combined with a verbal insult. Finally, Brad swung himself back to lounge comfortably along the length of Kyle's bed. Tommy then started kowtowing to Brad, bending his back, hands and head all the way to the floor, each time saying, "I'm so sorry, Master." After about 20 apologies and deep bows, Brad dismissively ordered, "Shut the fuck up, fag." I was frozen and in awe. Sure, I had received plenty of similar bashings from Kyle, but seeing someone else be abused like this right before my eyes was a brand new experience. Brad spoke again: "Now, a few housekeeping items. I can't be calling you 'Connor' and 'Tommy' all the time. You're two footstools I own, not human beings with names. So, Connor, you'll be Fag 1, and Tommy, you'll be Fag 2." More humiliation for Tommy. The older, taller guy who had been serving Brad way longer was being demoted to Fag 2. Brad could tell Tommy felt devastated. But Brad provided no comfort. "You gotta problem with that, Fag 2?" "No, Master. I am honored to be whatever you decide to call me." Tommy croaked with evident sadness. "Yeah, that's what I thought. But since you're so fuckin' dumb, let me explain it to you. Fag 1 at least seems to have a brain and can form complete sentences. You, Fag 2, on the other hand are a total, stuttering retard. You must have been dropped on your head as a baby -- like a lot of times. So yeah, you're not only a fag, but a beta fag." Wow. Harsh. Brutally harsh. It was about to get worse as Brad turned again and slapped Tommy hard across the face. "So wipe that moodiness off your ugly face. I want service with a smile, fucktard." Still feeling the sting from the slap and previous kicks, Tommy nonetheless mustered a grin as sincere as he could. Brad seemed to cool off. "So here's what I want you fags to do. I want you fags to make out. Stay on your knees the whole time. Make sure your little dicks touch one another. But if either one of you spews your spooge, I will beat the shit out of Fag 2. Got that, you cunts?" More wow. Tommy basically became the whipping boy for my mistakes. "Yes, God." I replied. (I guess the only way in which Tommy was still "superior" to me was that I had to call Brad only "God". It made sense though. Brad so saturated Tommy's life that Brad wasn't just God to Tommy; he was everything: Master, Sir, Stud, Alpha, Lord and God.) "Yes, God." Tommy concurred. Tommy and I looked at each other and huddled face-to-face. Even after all the abuse, and despite being called "ugly" by Brad all the time, Tommy was not ugly, not ugly at all. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I found Tommy attractive, not to the level of the Peterson brothers of course, but someone who easily could have fucked his share of girls had he been straight. I'd like to think Tommy found me attractive, too. And so, boom. We started kissing. It was electric. I had never kissed a boy before. I kissed feet and cocks and ass but never a guy's mouth. (Some sequence, huh?) For a 16-year-old gay boy, this was supposed to be a major life moment: my first gay kiss. And here was Brad taking the moment away from me. I wasn't kissing Tommy on my terms; my first true kiss was being ordered by Brad. Tommy wasn't my boyfriend, he didn't go to my school, he wasn't my age, and I had only met him one other time for a few brief minutes. The person kissing me and I were both naked on our knees, while a straight alpha stud, fully clothed, observed us condescendingly from above. But as much as I resented the circumstances, I was enjoying the kiss. Our mouths having done so many gymnastics worshipping the Peterson brothers for months (me) and over a year (Tommy) were quite skilled at kissing one another now. Tommy's hand now reached behind my neck, while I put the palm of my hand gently against Tommy's face. And the kiss soon entered the French phase. Tongues intertwined. (I could taste the familiar taste of Kyle's semen still sticking in Tommy's mouth, and I bet Tommy could taste a bit of Brad's still in mine. Another demonstration of Brad's genius. Our kiss -- and most importantly, my first m/m kiss -- was infused with the Petersons' sperm.) I shuddered. Both our cocks were lurching forward. Yet in the back of our minds, we kept telling ourselves not to cum because that's what our God had commanded. We could also hear Brad hurling more verbal insults at us ("you fuckin' homos doing your queer thing, it's so nasty", "it's so disgusting what you fags do, yuck", etc.), and snapping pics and recording vids of my make-out sesh with Tommy. Tommy and I were so engrossed in our kissing that we didn't notice Brad standing up. All of a sudden, we felt a warm rod insert itself in between our lips, breaking up our kiss. It was Brad's cock, now hard again even though he had cum in my mouth less than 45 minutes ago. Brad had unzipped his jeans, and his cock was protruding through the fly. "Don't stop what you're doing, faggots." In obedient compliance, we kept trying to reach each other's lips and maneuver our tongues as if we were still kissing, but it was impossible for our lips to fully touch again since Brad's cock was so radially meaty. So instead, we were now making side-by-side mouth love to Brad's cock, which of course was his intent all along, further intensifying Brad's pleasure. Brad started sliding his cock back and forth between our lips, getting the sensation of wet lips and tongue all along his 8.5-inch shaft. After five minutes of that, Brad yanked his cock away from us and announced, "That's pretty good, but I can put your two mouths to better use than that. Get me comfortable, Fag 2." Brad returned to his lounging position on the bed, and Tommy immediately rushed over to Brad's feet and pulled Brad's socks off. Tommy turned Brad's putrid left sock inside out and stuffed it toe-end first into his mouth. Then Tommy turned Brad's rancid right sock inside out and placed the smelliest, crustiest toe-end of that sock directly over his nose. Then Tommy picked a rubber band off the floor (must have been pre-tested to be the right size in the many previous iterations of this ritual) and tied that sock snugly in place, with the rest of it hanging obscenely over his mouth that was chewing and sucking the pungent sweat out of the other sock. It then occurred to me why Brad didn't order me to worship his socks. My fag saliva would have diluted the socks' potency. Now, instead, Tommy basically got the full jock strength of those socks. Believe it or not, even though Brad meant this to degrade Tommy even more, I was jealous. (Why? Because I really, really, really like straight jock feet.) With Brad's sock apparatus in place, Tommy proceeded to remove Brad's belt, jeans, underwear, then sweater and undershirt. And before me was this university varsity soccer stud in all his naked glory. Ample pecs, plump nipples, and an eight-pack set of abs to die for. Just the slightest traces of sandy brown hair on his chest and a treasure trail of darker brown hair leading to his crotch, followed by completely untrimmed pubic hairs surrounding a perfect foreskin-covered cock. As mentioned in the last chapter, dark brown hair saturated Brad's powerful legs, and that same hair could be seen ever so slightly dusting each of Brad's big toes and the tops of his veiny, size 13 feet. "Spit out my sock, Fag 2. And tie the rest of my sock in your rubber band so your mouth can be more accessible for worship." Brad continued, "Now I want you two to impress me with your cock worship, like really impress me. Remember, I've had two girls go down on me at once, or a girl + Tommy, lots of times, but let's face it, girls aren't as desperate as you fags for cock. I mean, well wait, they are desperate for *my* cock, but you homos take it to a whole new level. So I want to see what two fags can do. Make it count ... or else." So for the next 50 minutes (Brad was going to last a long time since he had just cum less than an hour ago), Tommy and I went to fag town on Brad's genitalia. (I paid extra attention to Brad's foreskin which I didn't get a chance to fully savor earlier.) We both knew Brad liked variety, so we gave that to him in spades. Fag 1 on cock, while Fag 2 on balls. Then switch. Then both fags along the length of Brad's cock. Then Fag 1 on pubic hair, while Fag 2 on cock. Then a combination using both our mouth and our hands. While our mouths caressed, our hands would rub and massage, including lovingly rolling Brad's huge balls between our fingers. We also remembered to breathe deeply and loudly at multiple opportunities, especially when we were on pubes duty, so as to demonstrate to Brad just how much we appreciated the smell of his crotch. For the most part, we both fit on the bed because remember, Kyle had his own queen-size bed as I told you about way back in Chapter 1. Nonetheless, at first, we kept bumping our heads into each other, but pretty soon got into a more seamless rhythm. Even though Tommy was older and more experienced servicing Brad, it was clear from the get-go that Tommy was deferring to me. For example, after 5 minutes on Brad's cock, I pulled off and whispered to Tommy, "Hey, why don't you take over on his cock, and I'll lick his balls." Tommy would just nod and didn't say anything. Neither of us said anything directly to Brad, since it was obvious Brad wanted the dual fag experience this first (of many) times to be all about the physical, not verbal, adoration. And remember, one of Brad's stinky socks was still strapped tightly to Tommy's nose (clearly marking him as even lesser than me), so we got to breathe in the mixture of Brad's crotch and feet while we were mouth worshipping him. All the while, Brad kept taunting and teasing us, or grunting or moaning in pleasure, or slapping Tommy in the face or knocking him upside the head. Finally, Brad was getting really close, and he ordered Tommy to "make out with my feet." So here's Tommy, with a still-smelly sock strapped to his nose, pleasuring the bottoms of Brad's feet with his mouth and the fabric of the sock which naturally rubbed against Brad's skin with each worshipful gesture from Tommy. But since he was Fag 2, he belonged at Brad's feet, while I, Fag 1, concentrated on blowing Brad's cock to completion. Even though Tommy was by far the better cocksucker, today I was gonna get Brad's cum -- twice in one afternoon. So with Fag 1 deep-throating his cock and Fag 2 caressing his feet, Brad's pleasure maximized into a satisfying orgasm. And yes, Brad loudly screamed and grunted all his usual homophobic epithets: "Stupid faggots, dumb bitches, homo fucktards, queer perverts, etc., etc." This time, I tried to preserve as much God-cum in my mouth as possible, using it as further lubricant to nurse Brad's spent dick. As Brad pushed my head off after a minute or so, I made one final suck to retrieve all of Brad's cum into my mouth, then looked straight into Brad's eyes and made a point of swallowing with a gulping sound that Brad could hear. Brad's response? He used his left foot to kick me right off the bed and I landed hard on my back. Then Brad said, "Aww, poor Fag 2, didn't get my cock today. Well, here's what you get: Fag 1's cock. That's right, stand up, Fag 1, and have Fag 2 give you a blowjob. And I give you permission to cum, Fag 1. I imagine given how worked up you are, it won't take very long. But Fag 2 is still not allowed to cum. Oh, and keep on that sock strap. Don't want you forgetting about me." Tommy resignedly moved off of Brad's feet and started crawling toward my direction, while I was still gathering myself from falling hard onto the floor. I was stunned. It was one thing for Tommy to suck off 16-year-old straight Kyle, who was a Peterson. It was another thing for him to suck off a 16-year-old fellow fag (me), but Brad was intent on lowering Tommy downward as much as possible. And for my part, only one girl ever even put her mouth on my dick, and she didn't get it hard before she stopped. And I had never been blown by a dude. Now, I was fully erect and about to get a blowjob from a very, very good cocksucker. So I stood up, and Brad continued, "And you better put your heart and soul into it, Fag 2. Oh, and hold Fag 1's cum in your mouth when he's done." Tommy obeyed, starting by planting several deep French kisses on the tip of my cock. Already I had felt nothing like this before. Then Tommy used his well-practiced skills on my foreskin, though it was already stretched out since I was fully hard. Then he went back to my frenulum, giving that some extra love. Suddenly I said, "Dude, I'm about to cum, so you'd better get to the rest of it or Brad might be displeased." Even during my first real blowjob as a recipient, just like during my very first gay kiss, my thoughts at least partly fell back to the wishes of Brad who kept taking more pics and vids. Tommy, who evidently was even more sub than I was, complied with my instruction and easily (and I mean, easily) swallowed the entirety of my hard dick whole. And remember in the last chapter what I wrote about my ultimate goal of sustaining the intimate contact between cocktip and throat? Well, Tommy achieved that goal and then some. Since I was nowhere near as large as Brad, Tommy could dig his nose hard into my pubes and raped his throat using my dick by ramming and contorting it repeatedly at and through the entrance of the cylindrical tunnel. Seconds later, I screamed, "I'm cumming!" and I achieved the best orgasm of my life. Tommy remembered Brad's instruction not to swallow immediately, so just before my first spurt, Tommy deftly pulled about half-way off my dick (but kept up the gentle suction), so that I dumped my very large amount of seed into Tommy's mouth rather than directly down his throat. Like a good faggot, Tommy continued to nurse my cock like I had done so many times now myself for Kyle. Finally, I extracted my deflating dick out of Tommy's mouth which still held nearly all of my large volume of sperm. I was so spent I had to sit down in Kyle's desk chair. Brad said, "Fag 2, shouldn't you thank Connor?" Whoa, Brad was calling me Connor again. Brad continued, "Oh, that's right, you still have a mouthful of Connor's cum. Well, it wouldn't be polite to talk with your mouth full, would it, fag? But hey, I have an idea. Crawl over to Connor's feet and spit all of it out on his toes. Then suck those toes and lick between each toe while you suck his cum back in your mouth, this time, swallowing every drop. If any cum falls on the floor, you know what to do. When you're all done, your mouth won't be full anymore, then I want you to thank Connor properly by lying on your back while you make out with his feet. How does that sound, you stupid faggot?" The new lows kept getting lower for the poor 19-year-old. Sucking this 16-year-old's dick wasn't enough, now he had to suck his feet. But what choice did he have? So he crawled over, gently held my left foot in his trembling hands, and carefully spit out my cum onto the top of my toes. Some of it immediately leaked downward onto the floor. Tommy then quickly inserted all five of my left toes into his mouth and sucked and licked the thick liquid back into his mouth and this time, down his throat. I now knew why Brad and Kyle liked their feet worshipped so much; the feeling of pleasure mixed with power was just amazing. Then Tommy licked the cum on the floor and swallowed all of that, too. Then he got on his back, grabbed my right foot, and started French kissing it, all the while stuttering, "Thank you, Connor, for feeding me your delicious load." "That's how you refer to someone who just fed you his cock?" Brad interrupted. Tommy corrected himself, "Thank you, MASTER Connor, for letting me perform a blowjob on you." "More creativity, dumbass." Brad interrupted again. "Master Connor, even though we are both gay, and we both serve our Masters Brad and Kyle, I am so low, so, so low, that you are my Master, too. Thank you for being a Master to me, Master Connor." "Better, bitch." Brad said with an irritated edge. "Let me text Kyle to get his ass back in here. Keep kissing Fag 1's feet, Fag 2. I want Kyle to see this. By the way, I've decided that Fag 1 is gonna spend the night, so we can continue these educational pursuits." You might wonder why Brad made Tommy subservient to me rather than the other way around. One, as a matter of fact, Tommy was even more of a fag than I was, so Brad was simply allowing the natural order to happen. Two, while you might think that elevating Kyle's bitch over his own would somehow lower Brad's own stature, Brad thought and knew differently. By elevating me somewhat, he was playing with my relationship with Kyle. My elevation didn't elevate Kyle. No, to the contrary, it brought me closer to Kyle's level -- which Brad knew meant Kyle would now redouble his efforts to suppress. Brad wasn't doing me in any favors by letting Tommy suck my cock, eat my cum or kiss my feet. No, he knew Kyle would put me in my place, and that extra, ongoing effort for Kyle, which Brad had no need to exert on anyone especially Tommy, was exactly the dynamic Brad was seeking both (1) to make my servitude to Kyle more difficult for me and (2) to destabilize Kyle, thereby securing Brad's super-alpha status with even more certitude. The truth was, Kyle's dominance over me was and will always be complete, but Brad had now increased the distance between his status and Tommy's by such a large extent -- using me to do so -- that Brad's own dominance over his entire harem reached an even greater degree of completeness, firmness and intensity. The next two years are gonna be real interesting, folks, real interesting .... TO BE CONTINUED ...