Small Town Slave Boys
Chapter 11
Dylan
I'd set my alarm for 8:00 a.m. because I needed to be ready for Kurt at 9:00 a.m. I was spending the night at his house and not coming back until after church on Sunday. But it wasn't my alarm that woke me up. It was Tommy smacking my face with his dick.
"Wake up, faggot," he said in a low tone.
I opened my eyes and said, "Go away, Tommy."
He put one hand over my mouth and grabbed my nuts with the other. He was squeezing them so hard that my stomach tied in knots. I tried to pull his hands off, but I couldn't. He was too strong for me. Tears started pouring out of my eyes.
"Listen to me, faggot," Tommy said. "I'm already bored with your pathetic attempts to avoid your responsibility. Your job is to suck my dick whenever I want to drop a load. I'm never going to be masturbating again. Do you understand me?"
I couldn't speak with Tommy's hand over my mouth, so I nodded vigorously. He gave me a cruel smile and said, "That's a good little faggot. I don't want to hear any backtalk from you, ever. When I take my hand off your mouth, you are going to beg me to punish you for being a disrespectful faggot."
He took his hand off my mouth. I said with a sob, "Please, Sir, punish me for being a disrespectful faggot."
Tommy grabbed the hairbrush off my dresser. Then he pulled my briefs off.
"From now on, you sleep in the nude, faggot. I want to be able to beat your nuts whenever you deserve it," he said.
"Yes, Sir," I said.
Tommy grabbed my dick again and positioned it, so it was lying on top of my legs. He'd pushed them together so my cocklet couldn't hide. He poked my dick with the brush and said, "You can cry your little faggot eyes out, but if you scream, I'll give you another five whacks."
I nodded and said, "Yes, Sir."
Tommy pulled back his hand and slammed by cocklet and balls with the broad backside of the brush. I clenched my teeth and whined loudly. Tommy smiled again and then repeated his action. Searing pain shot through me. I was in agony, but Tommy had no compassion. He struck me three more times. Somehow I managed to keep from calling out.
"Good little faggot!" he said. "Every time I have to beat your nuts, I'm going to add one stroke of the brush, so you'd better learn to be respectful and obedient."
"Yes, Sir," I replied.
"Now get down on your knees and suck my cock like the faggot slut you are," Tommy demanded.
I gave him the required, "Yes, Sir", and then sank to my knees and took hold of his cock. I was once again amazed at the size of his cock at only fifteen. I opened my mouth and swallowed as much as I could. At least he was smaller than Kurt and sucking his dick would help me practice on something smaller than my master.
I licked and sucked, giving him the best blowjob I could. And he seemed satisfied for a while. Then he grabbed my head and shoved his cock all the way inside me. It poked the back of my throat, and I started gagging. Tommy didn't let up. He kept it lodged inside me until I choked. My eyes were bulging out when he finally let me pull off him. I coughed up thick globs of phlegm.
"You're doing pretty good so far, Dylan. Take a deep breath because I'm going all the way to the root again in five... four... three... two... one!" he said.
Then he shoved his cock down my throat again until my nose was buried in his public hair. He held it there until my eyes bulged out and my face turned red. I couldn't breath and I started to panic. Tommy let me up again and told me to breathe before sinking his cock into me again. He repeated this process a dozen times or more before he finally grabbed my head and pressed it tight against him. I could tell he was cumming, shooting right down my throat.
When he was done, he pulled his cock out and wiped it on my face. I started to get up, but Tommy slapped me again and sent me sprawling.
"Thank me for giving you my seed, faggot. Then you can get cleaned up for your boyfriend," he said.
"Thank you, Sir. Thank you for giving me your seed," I said.
Then I got up and cleaned my face. I got dressed and grabbed my bags. I didn't have to pack clothes. Kurt kept buying me stuff, so I had more than enough clothes at his house. I ran downstairs and saw Tommy listening at the door to Dad's study. Mom and Dad were yelling.
"Shh," Tommy said. "They're arguing about that letter that came a week ago. It's something about money that doesn't belong to Dad."
He broke into a big grin and said, "Mom called him a thief, and Dad said we wouldn't need the money if she weren't a drunken bitch. Um... $60,000 for Mom's rehab. Ooh! Insurance rates have tripled."
He jumped up and moved away from the door. He was standing by me, like we were friends or something. Mom came storming out of the study. Dad came to the door and said, "What do you two want, snooping around out here?"
"I... uh... I'm goingto work as soon as Kurt gets here," I said.
Dad snapped, "Be back by 9:00 tonight!"
Mom sighed and said, "He's spending the night at Kurt's house. Now that he's working, he doesn't have as much time to spend with his friend. And you don't need to be up his ass... "
She trailed off and looked embarrassed, like she'd said something she hadn't intended. She looked at me and said, "We'll see you at church Sunday morning and then Sunday evening after your study session with Kurt. No! Tell Kurt that you're spending Sunday night as well. I know you're working during the Labor Day sale."
She glared at Dad and then stormed out of the room. Dad shouted, "Fine! Do whatever the fuck your mom says. It looks like she's the bitch wearing the pants in this family now!"
Then he slammed the door. Tommy and I looked at each other and shook our heads. They were always fighting, but it seemed a lot worse lately.
"What was that about?" I asked.
Tommy shook his head and said, "I have no idea. But just before she threw the door open, she called Dad a `cocksucking pervert' and then she yelled `pedophile' at him."
The conversation ended because Kurt knocked on the door. My face lit up and Tommy just shook his head at me. I didn't care. I ran to the door, eager to get away from the house. Kurt led me back to his car and opened the trunk for my bag. He was dropping me off at work. I'd change there.
"I'll get you after work. Dad says that we need to finish your English paper before we can go down to the basement," Kurt said.
"I hope I can help with dinner tonight, Master," I said.
During the week, there was seldom time for me to help Cory prepare the food. As much as I loved all the sex we were getting, I missed the servitude aspect of our relationship. I wanted to wait on the guys and clean up after them.
"Then we'll have to work quickly. Greg will be over in time for dinner and afterwards we're going to be alone in the basement," he said. "Do you still want Greg to fuck you tonight?"
I took a deep breath and then said, "I don't want there to be any confusion, Master. Greg is handsome, strong, and sexy. Any little gay boy like me would be happy to have sex with him. And I want to do it, but I only want to do it because you want me to, Master. My pleasure comes from giving you pleasure."
"Damn, Dylan, you know exactly what to say. That's so hot. So, if I stopped downtown and told you to suck off a homeless guy living under a bridge, then you'd find it pleasurable?" he asked.
"If I did it to please you and at your orders, it would thrill me to obey you, Master," I replied.
"Okay then," he said. "Are you saying I shouldn't ask you anymore?"
I nodded and said, "Yes, Master. The more it feels like I don't have a choice, the more it excites me."
Kurt sighed and said, "Then I won't ask anymore. But you need to tell me if you really don't want to do something I tell you to do."
"Yes, Master," I said. "I will tell you anytime I don't want to obey you."
If Kurt noticed that I'd responded to a slightly different statement than he'd asked, he didn't let on. It wouldn't matter to me how much I didn't want to do something. If Kurt ordered me to do it, I was going to do it. I would only let him know if I changed my mind and didn't want to be his slave. And that was never going to happen.
When we pulled into Groth Automotive, I ran to Mr. Groth's office and knocked on the door. It was Mr. Groth himself who let me in. My uncle Cory was standing by the closet dressed only in a light blue thong that was barely big enough to count as a posing strap. I could see his asshole gaping when he bent over to pull out a pair of dress shoes.
"Sorry, Dylan," Mr. Groth said. "Cory and I took a little longer this morning than usual. We'll try to keep it behind closed doors from now on."
"No need, Sir. The doors are closed and I'm happy to know that you're taking care of my uncle and making him happy," I said.
"As happy a little faggot as you'll ever see, Dylan," Cory said. "Master keeps me happy and fulfilled."
"Your uncle is the perfect submissive slave for me," Mr. Groth said. "No master could ask for more."
"Will you teach me, Uncle?" I asked. "Will you help me be the best submissive slave I can for Master Kurt?"
Cory put his hand on my head and said, "If my master will let me live openly as a slave at his house, then I would be happy to show you."
We both looked at Mr. Groth in anticipation. He frowned and then sighed.
"Fine," he said. "Starting today, after work, both of you will live as proper slaves in my house when you're there. Since Cory has taken responsibility for training you, he will earn twice your punishment every time you fuck up. Now get dressed for work. Here I'm the boss or Mr. Groth, not Master or Master Roger."
"Yes, Master," we said in unison. We knew that his office, with the door closed, was just like home.
Mr. Groth left the room to get started and Cory and I moved to get dressed.
"You have hickeys all over your neck, your chest and your thighs," I pointed out.
"Yes. I heard Master tell his son that he can't leave any marks on you until you're eighteen," he said, "but Master makes sure that anyone who sees me naked knows that I'm marked by him."
I tentatively touched the ornate scar on his right buttock. It looked like a fancy RG surrounded by a double circle. "Is this another mark of his?" I asked.
Cory sighed and said, "Yes it is. When we were younger, we were a little more extreme than we are today. He branded me as his property the very day I changed my last name to Groth."
I sighed and said, "I wish Kurt could brand me."
Cory gave me a hug and told me to wait a few months before telling Kurt that I wanted it. Then he instructed me on some basic slave behavior. Now that it was out in the open at home, he would be wearing his slave dress (more or less what he was wearing when I came in) whenever there was no company over. And I would call Kurt "Master"; and I would address the other Groth men as "Master Roger" and "Master Steve". He would do the same, except that he would call Mr. Groth "Master" and my master "Master Kurt".
"You must obey every order or request from any of the masters," Cory said. "And if you don't we'll both be punished."
"Yes, Sir," I said.
"NO!" Cory said. "Call all free people `Sir' or `Ma'am', but slaves call one another by their first names."
"Yes, Uncle Cory," I said.
"And forget that I'm your uncle," he said. "We're equals now."
Damian
When the alarm went off, my hand automatically moved to hit the snooze, but I felt a sharp pain in my ass making me jump. Steven stood there holding a belt looped in half.
"Get out of bed, Slave, and on the ground. Kiss my feet until I tell you to stop!" he said.
For a moment, I forgot that I'd made him promise to treat me like a slave today. He raised the belt again and I rolled onto the floor and pressed my lips against his large feet. My lips trembled. The belt had hurt, but I felt excited. Ever since I'd seen Dylan being so subservient to Kurt, I dreamed about doing the same thing for Steve. I wasn't sure if I wanted it for the long term, but I knew that I wanted to try it and see what it felt like.
I was still kissing Steven's toes when the belt crashed down on my butt again.
"Dammit! I was doing what you told me to do," I said, rising to my knees.
"I'm going to ask you a question, Damian. Do you want to be my slave today?" he asked.
I nodded and said, "Yes, Sir."
"Then your safe word is "snickerdoodle". If you say "snickerdoodle" the game immediately ends, and we go back to just being lovers. I won't be angry, and you won't ask me again to make you my slave. Do you understand?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir!" I said.
"It's "Master", Damian. Call me "Master"," he explained.
"Yes, Master!" I said.
"Follow me into the bathroom. You're going to wash me in the shower, Slave," he said.
I rose to follow him into the bathroom, but he stopped and slapped my face.
"Get down on your knees and crawl, slave. I didn't tell you to rise. Unless I give you different instructions, you will remain on your knees in my presence," Steven said.
The look on Steven's face was grim without a hint of a smile or a trace of affection. He snapped his fingers and said, "Heel, Slave."
I followed him on hands and knees. Steven – I mean my master – was even more forceful and charismatic than I'd noticed before. My dick was hard, but that could have been because it was morning, and I still hadn't taken a piss. Nah! I thought. Following Master Steven's orders was exciting and when he'd slapped me, the thrill ran all the way down to my crotch.
Steven – Master Steven – and I had slept in the nude last night, so we were both still naked. As far as I was concerned, I had the second-best view in the world. I could see Master Steven's long brown legs and that tight round ass of his as he walked. It was mesmerizing. I wanted to lick it. Maybe he would let me rim him later.
The only better view was the one I got when he turned to face me after turning on the water. He kept his pubic hair trimmed, which made his seven-and-a-half-inch cock look even bigger than it was. And the rest of his body was waxed like mine. His legs and torso were a classic example of a "swimmer's build", all long, lean muscle without a trace of excess fat. His flawless skin was the color of light bronze, much darker than his German American father, but much lighter than his brother Kurt. And his face... He had the sharp cheekbones and aquiline nose of a powerful warrior. He kept his black hair cut very short.
"Do you like what you see, Slave?" he asked with a smirk.
"Yes, Master!" I replied. "Your body is perfect, and I'm humbled to be able to serve you."
"You are too fucking cute, Damian, with your perfect blond boy next door innocence and your eagerness to please," he said. "I feel guilty, like I'm corrupting you with my debauchery every time I touch you."
He bent down and kissed me gently. Then he added, "This is a game we're playing today, Damian, and we're playing it because you wanted it. But it's a serious game. If you want to quit, let me know, but so long as we're playing I'm going to be brutal and harsh. It's likely I will hurt you. I'll feel bad about it, but I respect you enough to play it to my best ability."
"Yes, Master," I said.
Steven shook his head and smiled, then said, "Get in the shower"
I started to stand, but then remembered that Master Steven had ordered me to stay on my knees. I crawled into the shower. Master slid the door closed and said, "Looks like someone remembered his orders. I guess I can't spank you this morning then, since you were so obedient."
I was smiling inside. I could beat him at this game. I'd show him that I could be a good slave. Then Master grabbed me around the waist and held me tight. He smacked my ass hard. It was wet and the blow stung. He gave me twenty-five blows, each sharper than the last.
Then he stood up and said, "But then again, I can spank you if I want to. After all, you're a slave and I'm your master. I own you and I can do anything I want to do with you."
He was trying to make me quit, but I was determined to see it through. Dylan was a tiny little thing compared to Kurt and he was able to take everything Kurt sent his way. I was going to show that I was at least as tough as that sexy little twink.
"Yes, Master," I said. "My body is yours. It's your right to do whatever you want with it."
Master Steven had me soap him up with a washcloth and clean him. I took special care with his cock and balls. I wanted to clean his manhood with my mouth, but I decided to wait for orders. Once I'd cleaned him completely, he turned off the water and said, "Dry me with the towel."
I dried his body. His cock became fully hard and erect. I stared at it and licked my lips. Like his brother, but unlike me and my brothers, he still had his foreskin. I'd been fascinated the first time I'd seen it, but I was used to it now. I thought it made him look even sexier.
Master moved toward the door and I crawled after him.
"Not yet, Slave," he said. "You clean yourself first and then you join me in the room, kneeling at my feet. You can stand while you clean yourself."
"Yes Master," I replied.
Master Steven nodded and said, "There are a few rules you need to remember. First, slaves use cold water. Second, slaves use their master's old washcloth and towel. Third, you have ten minutes total and that includes douching your ass. And fourth, slaves sit when using the toilet and they sit directly on the rim. Now repeat the rules."
I thought for a couple of seconds and said, "I need to shower in cold water, using your washcloth and towel. I only have ten minutes to complete everything and then crawl in to kneel at your feet. I have to douche my ass. I have to sit on the rim of the toilet bowl when pooping or peeing. Master!"
"Good," he said. "I'll start the timer on my phone once I sit down in the other room. And I'll get the belt ready."
He left and I rushed to follow his instructions. I hated cold water, and the shower was very uncomfortable, but because I hated it, I think I showered in record time. I pissed in the shower to save time. Douching took a little longer. I was afraid that I'd have to use cold water for that too, but Master Steven had run the sink full of hot water and set a bottle of neutral saline in it. He insisted that it was healthier for my insides. But for me the most important part was that it was just the right temperature to feel good when I used it.
I hoped I was making good time when I crawled into the room and knelt at Master's feet. I pressed my face to the ground and kissed his feet.
Steven
I'd been trying to make Damian back out of the game. It disturbed me how excited I got when a guy became submissive and groveled at my feet, how it sent a jolt straight to my cock when I slapped him or spanked him. Intellectually, it wasn't my thing. It was Dad's and Kurt's. But on a deeper level, it aroused me, and I wasn't completely comfortable with that.
I'd chosen "Snickerdoodle" as Damian's safe word because that was his favorite cookie and I'd be able to make a play on words all day. But I'd seen it in his eyes. He wasn't going to back down, no matter how mean I was to him. The question was, how mean could I be?
Damian was pretty, not in an androgynous way like Dylan, but in a boyish way that promised he would be a very handsome man when he fully matured. I got lost in his big blue eyes, like a man drowning in the ocean. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to hold him and cuddle him. I wanted to go out in public, arm in arm daring anyone to say anything, knowing that all of them would be envying me.
I counted myself lucky. Kieran had been the same way. He was beautiful, paler than Damian with red hair and eyes like cornflowers. Damian's were more like blue ice. I hadn't ever had Kieran, but I'd masturbated a lot thinking about him. And when it became clear that I wasn't going to ever get him, I didn't have to look far to find someone almost as handsome, and yet even more handsome in some ways. That was Damian, and he was already in love with me.
I checked my phone while I was waiting. I had a text from Dylan.
Taking a short break at work. Thought you should know. Dad received a registered letter last week addressed to Kieran. Heard Mom and Dad arguing. Sounds like Dad didn't let Kieran know. Mom called Dad a thief. Don't know what it's about. Kieran doesn't talk to me. Thought you could let him know.
I shot off a text to Kieran. He was terrible about checking his phone. He always had been, and he was getting worse. When he didn't text back immediately, I put my phone away. Damian was crawling out of the bathroom. He came over and started kissing my feet.
I had no idea what to do with him next. At home, Dylan did the housework, and we could always find a project to keep him busy. What could I do with a slave in a hotel room? I didn't want to just punish him all day.
"I'm going to lie down on the bed and you're going to give me a long, slow blowjob, Slave," I said.
"Yes, Master!" he replied with excitement.
I laid back and Damian scurried to take his place between my legs and to start sucking. The boy knew how to suck cock. I never felt his teeth as he swallowed me almost to the root. He was looking up at me with his pretty eyes. When I smiled at him, he forced himself down all the way on my cock and started choking. When he tried to back off, I put my hand on his head to hold him in place.
"As a slave, it's your responsibility to take your master's cock," I said. "I'm going to take my hands off your head and you're going to do your duty. And if you don't, I'm going to beat your ass with my belt, and I promise that you won't like it."
Damian squirmed a little at the thought, but he continued to worship my cock like the slave he was pretending to be. He didn't need my encouragement to keep trying to take it all. When he started choking, he held it as long as he could, then he pulled back to catch his breath before doing it again. And each time he took more down his throat and held it a little longer.
I did my best to hold back my orgasm, but Damian was damned good. His mouth worked magic on my cock. I let go and allowed the sensation to overwhelm me. My shaft was full to the bursting point with cum and my nuts were pulling up tight. And then the contractions began. I grabbed Damian's head and held him tight against my groin.
"Take my seed, Slave!" I cried. "Take it all!"
I shot four good size loads down his throat while he sputtered and gagged. Then I let go of his head to see what he would do. He didn't pull away. He slid my cock out of his mouth and continued sucking and licking gently until he'd swallowed the last drop.
I wanted to grab him, to kiss him, to throw him on the bed and to suck his throbbing cock in return. But Damian chose this game, not me.
"You did a good job, Slave, so I'm not going to beat you this morning," I said. "Now stand up so you can tidy up this room."
Cory
Life had been different since Roger told the boys about us. Instead of us stealing moments in his office and after work in my apartment, I was spending the night at his house. It was what he'd been promising me all along, that we would live together, that I would be able to really be with him. He was my master, but he was also my lover. And one day he'd be my husband. Even state law wouldn't be able to prevent it.
And now I was able to be part of Dylan's life. I'd missed out on being an uncle to him, his sister, and his brothers. Of course, his mother didn't know. She wouldn't approve. God, how I hated her; God, how I missed her.
For nearly eighteen years she'd been more of a mother to me than my own mother had been. For the eight years after our mother had died, Bethany had been my only mother figure. How was it that I could take such joy in her misery being married to Craig Morgan, and then feel so guilty about it? How could I hate her so much and still sometimes feel hollow inside when I remembered how good she was to me? How she used to hold me when I cried and how she used to cover up for me with dad whenever he came too close to discovering that I was gay?
From everything Cory and Roger had told me, she wasn't as good a mother to any of her own children as she had been to me. Maybe I'd been so much trouble she'd worn herself out and had no energy left over for them.
Supervising Cory at work was a joy. He was so sweet and so cute in his dress shirt and tie. And everyone in the office loved him, some a little too much. I'd have to warn Fred off without letting the cat out of the bag about him and Kurt, but Barb could continue to treat him like a pet. His own mother wouldn't do it and he needed to have that experience in his life.
And he was a good worker. Once you gave him a task, he kept at it, and boring jobs didn't seem to bother him at all. I hadn't been like that when I was younger. When I first started at Groth Automotive, I was a total fuck up. The place wasn't so gay friendly back then and I'd almost gotten the crap beat out of me for coming on to some of the guys. One of them was Darren Nelson. He still worked here, and he'd come around. He'd even taken his niece in when her parents threw her out for being gay. I had to give credit to Roger for that. He'd set the example.
He'd also made me change. After rescuing me from the imminent beating, he'd taken me into his office and shown me the error of my ways. Twelve years later, I could still remember it in detail.
**********
Roger frog marched me into his office and shut the door. He sat me down in a chair and leaned back against his desk.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Cory?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know, Sir," I replied. "I... I'm just lonely and... er... horny... those guys seemed to like it when we were talking and then they got mad. They asked me to meet them out back, but I didn't follow them. I swear! It was them!"
At some point I'd started crying. Roger pulled me out of the chair and into his arms. He gave me a fatherly hug which, up to this point, I'd only ever experienced in my imagination. I started sobbing and I told him everything. About how I was being harassed by my brother-in-law, getting thrown out of the house, my father calling me faggot and throwing my clothes into the front yard and how my sister had stood there scowling at me the whole time."
I didn't know when Roger had sat down in his comfortable desk chair and pulled me into his lap. And I wasn't sure exactly when I started staring into his eyes, but when he kissed me the first time, I melted into him. His kisses became more passionate, and I submitted to him completely.
Roger shoved everything off his desk onto the floor and sat me on it. Then he pushed me back and ripped my shirt open. He wasn't gentle; he was like a man possessed. He later confessed to me that it was my vulnerability and my submissiveness that had triggered him. It was the nearly three years since his wife had passed, with no sex, aside from masturbation, that made him so aggressive.
Whatever the reason, the more dominant he became, the more submissive I became. When he was biting my nipples, I cried out, "Yes! Please, Sir! Hurt me, I need it!"
He didn't really hurt me, although my lips and my nipples were red and swollen and I had a long line of love bites on my neck. He didn't have lube, so he didn't even try to fuck me that first time, he just rubbed his massive cock against my own until we both came. He had nine inches to my own four. His shaft felt like a battering ram crushing my smaller dick.
Both our lives changed that night. Roger helped me get a studio apartment and we had sex every day.
**********
I shook my head to clear the daydream and went back to my own job. I wasn't a manager. I was Roger's personal assistant. I handled all his appointments and correspondence and everyone in the office knew that any directives I gave them came straight from the boss. I loved that I took care of him at work, and I saw to his sexual needs. I even went over to his house to clean it several nights a week. It made our relationship more real to me. He was my man and I was...his wife, his slave, his houseboy, sometimes even his son.
Dylan
I worked all Saturday morning, but I was done by noon. Since Mr. Groth and Cory were still working, Kurt came to pick me up. Greg was in the car with him, so I had to sit in the backseat. When we got there I went straight to the bathroom to shower, douche, and lube myself. Before I'd run upstairs, Kurt had said, "Put on one of your fashion jocks, a pair of booty shorts and nothing else. We're going to do this before Dad and Cory get home."
I took special care to make sure I was completely clean inside. And then made sure that I'd packed as much lube inside me as I could. I'd felt a little stubble, so I ran the razor over my body carefully and then applied a lot of lotion to prevent razor burn.
When I got downstairs, Kurt and Greg were already sitting in the living room, side by side on the sofa. I walked over and knelt in front of Kurt. I pressed my face to the carpet and kissed his shoes lightly. I hated the taste of his shoes, but I loved doing it for him because of how much I hated the taste. I felt like it was an expression of my devotion and submission.
"Damn! Dylan really must love you," Greg said. "He's always submissive and obedient, but this is extreme, dude!"
Kurt snapped his fingers twice, which was the signal for me to kneel with my back straight, knees spread and hands behind my neck. That position exposed my thin chest and put it on display. I knew to keep my eyes averted until he told me to look at him.
"He's not just my boyfriend, Greg. He's my willing slave," Kurt said.
Greg heaved a great sigh and said, "That's one of the hottest things ever, man."
Kurt must have been wanting to show off his control over me. He snapped his fingers and said, "Shoes."
I took one of his big feet in my hands and kissed the shoe again. Then I carefully removed it and set it aside. I pressed my face against his sweaty sock and breathed in the aroma. My little cocklet sprang to full erection and pressed against those booty shorts I was wearing.
I pulled the sock off and placed it inside his shoe. Then I kissed his feet. Unlike his shoes, I loved the taste of his feet. They were firm and muscly, with smooth, brown skin on the top and lighter skin on the bottoms. Once I'd kissed them all over, I started to lick them slowly and sensually. It was as much for my pleasure as for his. I was leaking precum and the front of those little shorts I wore were now obviously wet.
I heard Greg give out a little moan and then Kurt said, "Don't touch yourself. Just let your horniness build so that Dylan can take care of you."
I moved on to Kurt's other foot and gave it the same treatment. Usually, I was allowed to kiss my way up Kurt's legs after serving his feet so that I'd get to suck his big cock, but today, he said, "Do Greg's feet next."
I scooted over in front of Greg and picked up his foot. His shoes were scuffed and a little dirty. My first instinct was to chastise him mentally, but then I remembered how Kurt's shoes had looked before I started taking care of them for him. I tasted dust when I kissed them.
I treated his shoes with the same respect I did my master's. His feet had a stronger and more sour smell, but it didn't turn me off. It was strangely arousing, the scent striking straight to the root of my cock. And the taste of his feet was more sour as well.
"Damn! I should have washed my feet, dude," Greg said. "I could smell them when your boy pulled my shoes off."
"Nah. Dylan loves the smell of sweaty jock feet. The last time he got a taste of mine after a game, I thought he was going to shoot his little load right then and there," Kurt replied.
He wasn't lying. I loved the taste of his body after a long, hard game. He and Kurt must have been tossing the ball around in the sun this morning while I was at work. It wasn't the same, but it still made the experience better for me. I loved the feel of Kurt's body beneath my tongue, but the taste was so much better when I could taste... him.
"Do you want him on his back, on all fours or do you want him to sit on your cock?" Kurt asked.
"Wait! I'm going first?" Greg asked.
"I love you, bro, but If I go first, his skinny butt will be gaping so much that you won't get the full effect," he said. "I want you to see why fucking an ass is so much better than fucking pussy."
"Shut up, dude," Greg said. "You're not that... shit! You're probably right. I've never seen that monster of yours hard, but it's big enough soft. Um... which do you suggest? I've never done this before."
"Stand up and take your shorts off, slave boy," Kurt said.
I couldn't obey him fast enough as far as I was concerned. In an instant I stood before these two sexy guys stripped down to just a fashion jock. Greg tentatively reached out and squeezed my little cocklet. I oozed more cum into the pouch.
"He's really fucking small, but he seems to be enjoying it," Greg said.
"Do you want to see it?" Kurt asked. "I was going to have him keep his jock on so that you didn't freak out when you saw his tiny little erection."
Greg nodded and said, "Yeah. I think I want to see it. I've committed to doing gay shit this afternoon. I may as well make it as gay as possible."
Kurt
Greg was really getting into this scene. His eyes were almost glazed over. He was dating Sheila Beck right now. She was pretty enough, but Dylan was prettier. I knew it, and I was sure that Greg knew it as well. And what had he meant when he said as gay as possible? A brief image of his meaty ass impaled on my cock flashed before my eyes, but I dismissed it.
I pulled Dylan over my knees and began fingering his ass so that Greg got an unobstructed view. Dylan moaned and wiggled on my lap. The show was partly for Greg's benefit, but I was really checking to see how well-prepared Dylan was. I got more than a little harsh with him verbally because he loved it and got off on it even more than I did, but I would never hurt him or allow him to be hurt for real.
"Does it feel like a pussy?" Greg asked.
"Better. It's tighter and my boy can suck your finger – or your cock – inside him with just his ass muscles alone," I said.
Greg raised his eyebrows and smiled broadly. "Can I try it?" he asked.
I pulled out and said, "Go for it, dude."
Greg stuck his finger inside Dylan's slippery hole. He sighed and said, "That feels amazing. It's hot, wet, and tight. And you're right! His ass is sucking on my finger."
I ran a hand down Dylan's back and patted him gently on the butt to let him know how proud I was of him. I looked at Greg and said, "If you want to make this experience as gay as possible, you'll want him on his back. That way you can see his face and you can long dick him all you want."
"That's what I want!" Greg said.
I slapped Dylan's ass hard enough to leave a red mark, making his little cocklet throb against my leg. "Go get the fuck blanket and put it down on the floor."
That's what we called the blanket we'd used the night before Greg had seen us through the window, so Dylan knew what I was talking about. Without Steven here, I had to be the responsible one who kept cum off the carpet.
Greg reluctantly pulled his finger out of Dylan's warm hole. I saw him examining it for any sign of brown streaks. Of course, he didn't find any. Dylan was a very clean boy. And his little round butt was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen bouncing as he ran off to get the blanket.
"Look," Greg said. "I've been thinking about this for days and your boy has a sexy butt. I don't want to hear any shit if I don't last too long when he gets back. I mean, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it since he's a guy, so I've been... you know... edging it a little and not masturbating. I don't think I'm going to have any trouble keeping it up, but now I'm more worried about popping off as soon as I'm inside him."
I put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I pop off as soon as I get inside him all the time. Then I just rest a few minutes and go again. If you're too fast, you can get your energy back watching me fuck him and then take a little longer on round two."
"Cool," Greg said, obviously relieved.
Dylan came back fast. He had the fuck blanket, a towel, and a pack of wipes. I turned him over my knee and gave him a few hard smacks on the bottom, then sent him back to grab the lube. Just in case, I thought. It turned out that we did need it later.
Once Dylan was on his back on the blanket, I urged Greg to get his clothes off. I took mine off as well. Dylan kept looking back and forth between us, his eyes wide with excitement and his little cocklet pressing hard against the pouch of his jock. He was obviously horny and the look on his face told me that he was in gay boy heaven.
Greg knelt between Dylan's legs and took hold of the waistband of his jock. He pulled it off slowly and then tossed it aside. A look of concern flashed over his face, and he asked, "Are you good with this, Dylan? I mean, I know you love to get fucked. I've heard you when Kurt's doing you, but are you okay with it being me? Do you want me to fuck you?"
I knew that he needed to hear it with his own ears. Dylan was so subservient to me that Greg needed to know that he wasn't just doing what I wanted him to do.
Dylan looked up at him and said, "Yes, Sir. Even if I didn't want to do it, I would because Kurt's my master, but he refused to order me to do anything. He made me tell him and I'm going to tell you. I think you're hot and sexy and unbelievably good-looking. I'd want to do it with you even if I didn't already have a master. And I'm glad that he gave me permission to serve you."
Damn! My boy was good. He did think Greg was handsome. I'd heard him say so often enough before, but he was doing this because I wanted him to do it. I'd concluded that it was impossible to know exactly what Dylan wanted because he always wanted to do what he thought I wanted. That meant that I had to figure it out on my own.
Greg seemed satisfied with that answer. He fingered Dylan's butt some more, making my boy writhe around and moan with pleasure.
"He's loose enough," I said. "You can take him anytime now."
Greg smiled at me and said, "But I like the look on his face when I do this."
"Feel around inside until you find a hard little lump," I said. "It will be on the upper side near the back of his little cocklet."
Greg felt around until he found it. We both saw that moment because a steady stream of precum started to flow from Dylan's little dick. He was cute as could be.
"When you fuck him, try to hit that spot," I said. "You'll see him cum like a girl, with no one touching his little thing, just from the feeling of a man pounding his ass."
Greg pulled his finger out and said, "I've got to see that."
He pushed Dylan's knees up to his chest and slid inside him. Dylan didn't offer any resistance. He mumbled, "That feels great, Greg. Fuck me harder! You don't have to hold back."
Greg wasn't small. He had seven and half circumcised inches to please my boy, but Dylan was used to me, and I was a lot bigger than Greg. In fact, when I thought about it, the difference between my cock and Greg's and between Greg's cock and Dylan's was about the same.
As I watched my boyfriend getting plowed by my best friend – well, my best friend other than Dylan and Steven – I couldn't help but notice how round Greg's ass was. If he shaved it smooth, it would be begging to get fucked. I watched his powerful glutes move with each thrust and inhaled sharply.
He hadn't been wrong about being on a hair trigger today. He came just a few minutes after he started. He threw his head back and groaned.
"Take my load, you sexy little... dude," he said. "Your ass is like a silk glove."
Dylan was moaning and the liquid running from the head of his dicklet was translucent instead of transparent. He was cumming in that slow oozing way he often did when he enjoyed a good fuck. I was a little jealous that someone else was responsible for it, but also proud of him for treating Greg right, and a little impressed by Greg's ability to manage it on his first gay fuck.
As Greg was pulling out, I whispered in Dylan's ear, "You did a good job, slave boy. Now it's my turn."
I took my place between Dylan's legs and teased his hole with the head of my cock. Greg was reaching for the wipes, but I said, "No! Don't wipe it off. Look at Dylan's face. Would you deny him a chance to suck your dick?"
Dylan gave Greg a pouty puppy look that made him laugh. Then Greg moved over and let Dylan suck his cock into his mouth. Now I was jealous. My cock was too big for Dylan to take it all, but he managed Greg's pole with ease. I pushed inside of Dylan's pretty hole and was rewarded with a low throated moan from my boy.
All my jealousy faded when Greg said, "Your boy is totally in love with you. He never moaned like that when I was inside him."
"He moaned," I said. "I distinctly heard him moan."
"Not like this," Greg said with a grin.
And he was right. Dylan had gotten used to my cock, so he took it without too much effort if he was lubed properly, but he was moaning loudly. I couldn't see it because Greg was blocking my view, but Dylan always cried tears of joy when I fucked him. I'd seen no tears when Greg was fucking him.
Dylan's cute little dick was pouring cum like a garden hose. With every thrust, another heavy stream poured out. The sounds he was making and the moaning in his throat brought Greg to another orgasm. He groaned loudly and held Dylan's face rougher than I'd expected. But his roughness didn't stop Dylan from using his ass to milk my cock.
He was such a talented little twink. I loved him. It had taken me much too long to admit that to myself, but now I felt free to revel in the idea. It wasn't just that I loved him. I was in love with him. All the slavery, dominance, and submission were awesome. It made him even more exciting, but I would have loved him even without it.
Dylan's ass was the most amazing thing I'd ever felt. He seemed to be a natural. He'd discovered these talents on his own. I was the only guy he'd been with before today and I didn't even know that the kind of control he showed over his rectum was possible.
I grabbed his hips and pulled him tight. My orgasm washed over me, and I spilled my seed deep inside him. Greg had pulled out of his mouth and Dylan yelled, "YES, MASTER, YES! I need you!"
"And I need you, sexy little slave boy," I said.
I bent down and kissed him while my cock was still pumping inside him. His lips were a little swollen and his mouth tasted of... Greg's semen. I was taken aback for a moment, but just for a moment. I wasn't sure that I liked the idea of another man's cum in my mouth. Dylan's was fine. I'd tasted him before after I'd fed him his own cum. But... to hell with it. Greg's cum wasn't disgusting and even if it were, anything would taste good on Dylan's lips.
We enjoyed a lazy afternoon hanging out. We played some video games, we talked, we took turns making out with Dylan and we had sex three more times. Greg avoided touching me even when we had Dylan sandwiched between us. I was glad because I wasn't sure how I felt about touching him in a sexual way.
Greg and I slipped shorts on whenever we weren't enjoying Dylan, but we kept him naked. He seemed to enjoy being the lone naked boy in the house. When one of us wasn't enjoying his body, he waited on us. He didn't even want to play video games with us, despite Greg asking him repeatedly.
Dad and Cory were out late. The dealership was open until 7:00 p.m. and this was a busy weekend. Dad called me and said he'd be home by 8:30 and he'd bring chicken if we hadn't already eaten. Dylan had grilled us some cheese sandwiches at 3:00, so we could wait. I made Dylan put his little shorts on before Dad and Cory came home.
They had several boxes of things from Cory's apartment that they were moving into the house. It looked like Cory was going to be spending more time at our place. I was happy for dad. What surprised me was that Cory ran upstairs to put on a pair of tiny shorts and then joined Dylan in serving us dinner. Cory was seriously hot for a thirty-year-old guy. He looked like Dylan, but he was as muscular as his slender body would allow. The more I watched him, the more convinced I was that I wanted to train Dylan so that he looked like his uncle.
I noticed that Greg spent a lot of time staring at Cory, especially when he bent over, and his muscular glutes were on display. While Dad was using the bathroom and Cory and Dylan – the two household slaves? – were cleaning up after dinner, I leaned over to Greg and said, "You seem to like Cory's bod."
"Damn, Kurt, he's sexy. He looks so much like Dylan they could be father and son. He has the same thin body, but it is toned and... I keep getting hard looking at him," he whispered.
"Yeah. He's hot. When I look at Dylan I think he could look like that with a little work. Steven put him on an exercise program that should work," I said.
I noticed that he was craning his neck to see the slave boys in the kitchen, so I added, "Look. Whatever we did here today, don't even think about trying it with Cory. He belongs to my dad, and I don't think he'd appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem. Hands off," Greg agreed.
"You'd better believe it," I confirmed. "And... um... did you like fucking Dylan today?" I asked.
Greg looked over at me and grinned widely. He said, "You'd better believe it."
"Better than pussy?" I asked.
He shrugged and said, "I don't know if I would say better, but it was awesome and it was different. Can I... will you share him with me again?" he asked. "Or was this just a one-time thing?"
I had to think about it for a minute. I'd enjoyed seeing Greg take Dylan. It was a perverse thrill to share my boy, but Dylan was mine. He belonged to me. He was my property. And I needed to make sure that no one forgot that.
Greg must have mistaken my silence for a "no" because he said, "It's okay. I shouldn't even ask. Forget about it."
"No," I said. "It's not an absolute `no'. I just don't want you to forget that he's mine. I'll have to think about it, but I'm open to the idea of sharing him with you again. Just remember that he belongs to me. He trusts you now and he'd probably do whatever you said. I'm counting on you not to touch him without my permission, and that means separate permission every time. And I doubt that I'll ever be comfortable letting you have him if I'm not there to watch and supervise."
"I can live with that," Greg said. "And I'll share Sheila with you if she's willing. If you're still interested in pussy that is," he said with a smile.
"Just because I prefer Dylan's sexy butt doesn't mean that I don't still like pussy, dude!" I said. "Besides, I think you actually liked Dylan's butt better than pussy." I couldn't help but tease him.
"Shut up!" he said, blushing. But he didn't deny it and the way he looked away made me think I'd hit a nerve.
We sat and talked after the cleanup. Cory sat on the floor in front of Dad and rested his head on Dad's knee and Dylan decided to follow his model. Greg sat next to me, the only one without a boy of his own. He spent the night, however, and Dylan slept between us. We each enjoyed him one more time before we went to sleep.
Cory
Roger and I had left the boys alone not too long after dinner. We retired to Roger's room for a little fun of our own. We'd barely gotten into the room when Roger pushed me over onto the bed and ripped my shorts off.
"Looking at my nephew's pretty little body has you worked up something fierce, doesn't it, Sir," I teased.
Roger frowned and then realized that I wasn't serious. He bit my lip hard and said, "Looking at your skinny little nephew just made me think of you, every time I caught sight of him."
He knew how to make me feel good and that was one of the things I loved about him. "I'm not getting too old for you, Sir? I did just turn thirty last month."
"Don't start in with that old bullshit, Cory," he said sternly. "If you're old, what am I? I'm ten years older than you."
"I know, Sir, but it's different," I said. "You're a real man and a few gray hairs just make you look sexier. I'm your boy and it's my job to stay young looking for you. I... I worry that you won't want me anymore when I get wrinkles and I start to lose my hair."
I'd gotten maudlin and I hadn't intended to. Kurt lay down on the bed next to me and kissed my forehead. "Are you really worried about that, Cory?" he asked.
I didn't say anything. I squeezed my eyes closed and breathed deeply. Roger chuckled and stroked my jawline.
"It's the same with all you twinky bottom boys," he said. "Your youth, your vulnerability and your cute face and skinny body are what attracted me to you in the first place. You reminded me that there were two sides to my sexuality, and you made me fall in love with you. So, you're getting older. I'm not that shallow, Cory. If you start going bald, I'll just shave your head and have a sexy boy with no hair. It's all the rage in some circles."
"What if my butt gets soft and droopy?" I asked with a sad smile.
"Then I'll handcuff you to a treadmill and make you run however many hours a day it takes to whip you into shape," he said. "You belong to me, Cory, and I'm not going to let you get away from me by pretending you're too old for me."
He crushed my mouth with his and twisted the rings in my nipples. He pressed his groin against my ass, and I wrapped my legs around him.
"You're mine forever, boy," he said. "Next year, on Valentine's Day, a month after Kurt's birthday, two months after Dylan's birthday, I'm going to make it official. I'm going to make you stand up in front of all our friends – our real friends that is – and I'm going to make you swear to obey me forever. And then I'm going to make you sign a paper making you mine in the eyes of the law. And then I'm going to put a ring on you to show everybody that you belong to me."
"Do you mean...?" I asked.
"... that I'm going to marry you?" he said. "Yes. That's exactly what I mean."
I burst out crying again like the silly twink I still was inside, and Roger tore his own clothes off so he could fuck me hard on the bed, our bed. Everything was becoming more real. When my lease was up in December, Roger was going to let my apartment go. Even now I was going to be sleeping here and living here.
We lay together naked on the bed, cuddling after we'd both cum. I was basking in Roger's warmth, and he was playing with my navel, making me break out in giggles from time to time.
"I'm going to be your wife in five months, Sir," I said.
"You're already my wife, Cory," he said. "You've had my heart for twelve years now."
"And you've had mine, Sir," I said. "You saved my life and made me yours."
We'd had this discussion before. Roger didn't believe it, but I knew that I would have continued down a dark path and probably would have destroyed myself long before now if he hadn't claimed me. He was my rock, my anchor, my everything.
Damian
Steven made me clean the hotel room and then he took me out. We went to the drag racing convention for a couple of hours and took some pictures. I bought my family souvenirs. That would cover our tracks so no one would suspect that we'd come here for a three-day weekend of gay sex away from prying eyes.
When we were in public, Steven ordered me around and I obeyed. He chose my breakfast for me and then he did the same thing at lunch. He made me strip naked and blow him in the bathroom at the convention. He made me blow him again in the movie theater while he fingered my ass. And he didn't let me touch myself or get any relief of any kind. By the time we'd gotten back to the hotel, I was so horny that I was ready to beg.
When the door was shut, Steve snapped his fingers and said, "Strip."
Once I was naked he snapped again and told me to crawl after him into the bathroom. He took charge and douched my ass while I kissed his feet. Once he was done, he had me follow him back into the room and we put on our speedos before going to the pool. We were the only one's dressed so skimpily.
We swam in the pool and Steven was mostly restrained. There were families present so he didn't touch me where anyone else could see. But underwater, he wasn't so restrained. His hand managed to find my butt and my cock whenever no one was looking in our direction. And when I was fully erect, pressing against the thin material of my speedo, he sent me to fetch a drink. We'd brought some sodas down and placed them on a chair by the jacuzzi. I was sure that everyone was staring at my hardon as I walked back to the pool.
Steven and I sat on the stairs leading down into the pool and enjoyed our drinks. When no one was looking, he squeezed my cock gently. I had to stifle a moan. I went to push his hand away, but he grabbed my wrist with his free hand and whispered, "Slaves don't get to say `no'. Their masters can make use of their body in any way they want, at any time."
I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Master."
He smiled as he worked me back to full erection. Then he moved his hand back to my butt and slid his hand inside my speedo. His index finger toyed with my hole, rubbing it until I thought I was going to cum. Then he stopped and patted me on the shoulder.
Loud enough for everyone to hear, he said, "Let's get into the jacuzzi for a while."
He got out of the pool and then extended his hand, asking, "Do you need help?"
I sighed and resigned myself to potential exposure. Then I took his hand and stood up. Everyone was too engaged in their own business to be worried about me, everyone apart from one man who was sitting in a chair finishing a beer. He smiled in my direction, making me blush. Luckily it wasn't visible in the feeble illumination of the lights around the pool.
No one else was in the jacuzzi, but Steven sat next to me, his hip resting against mine. He put his arm around me and said, "Take off your speedo and hand it to me."
"I'll be naked, Steven, in public," I said.
"You'll be naked in public, Master!" he said.
"I'll be naked in public, Master," I repeated.
Steven smiled at me and said, "I know. Now take off your speedo and hand it to me."
I swallowed nervously and pulled my speedo off, leaving me naked under the warm foaming water. I wished the fear would make my dick shrink, but it didn't. I was still hard as rock. Steven took my testicles in hand and rolled them gently between his fingers.
"Your balls are feeling kind of full, like maybe you've been on the edge all day without any relief," he teased. "If you want a chance to cum today, you'll do exactly what I tell you to do. Otherwise, when we get upstairs I'm going to ice your cock and make you wait until tomorrow."
"Yes, Master," I said, wondering what he had planned.
I didn't have to wonder for long. Steven's hand slid down my back and then wriggled under my butt. When he started pushing into my crack, I leaned forward without even meaning to, like my body had decided to give Steven more access without even consulting me. Steven's finger pressed on my anus. I was so horny that I felt myself opening immediately. He worked his finger deep inside me, then pressed a second alongside it. My mouth was hanging open and my eyes were wide.
A deep voice said, "Do you mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," Steven said, without removing his fingers from my ass.
It was the guy who'd seen my erection earlier. He was about my height, but thicker through the middle. He wasn't fat, he was just built like a muscular rectangle. His black hair was cut short and tinged with silver. And his skin had a deep tan.
He sat down on the opposite side of the jacuzzi and leaned back. He stared at me like he knew that Steven was fingering my ass under the waterline. I was becoming very uncomfortable. But if I was uncomfortable why did my dick feel like it could explode at any moment?
"My name's Mike," the guy said, holding out his hand.
I shook it and said, "Damian and this is Steven."
Steven pushed on my prostate making me jump and squeak while I spoke. And Mike just kept on grinning. Of course, there was no way that he could know what was happening for sure, but he must have suspected something was going on.
"You two are a cute couple," Mike said, reaching back to take a drink from his can of beer.
My heart nearly stopped. Everyone had gone back to their rooms except for Mike, Steve and me, and an opposite sex couple making out in the pool. I was naked in a public pool and Steve was fingerbanging me in the jacuzzi. If we were caught, I'd be arrested, and my dad would have to come get me.
Mike must have seen the look on my face because he scooted over next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, son," he said. "I'm not just some rando and I'm not going to report you and get you in trouble. Your boyfriend and I were chatting while you were running to get the sodas and trying to hide your erection. I'm here to provide you some cover if anyone else tries to start trouble."
I looked at his smiling face and then over at Steven's smirk.
Steven said, "If you're going to be my slave boy, you need to obey without worrying about the consequences. You told me yourself that Kurt fucks Dylan in the school bathroom. And Kurt told me that he fucked Dylan in one of the church bathrooms."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Good," Steven said with a smile. "Because you are going to scoot over and sit on my cock. And you're going to ride me until you cum. And Mike is going to sit here and watch."
I wanted to scream "SNICKERDOODLE" at the top of my lungs, grab my speedo and run out of there, but I was stubborn. And Steven had raised a sour point with me. Dylan had the courage to do what was demanded of him without question. He was a little, mousy thing. (That wasn't an insult. I thought mice were cute.) If he could do it, I should be able to do it.
"Yes, Master!" I said with intent, still at a low volume, but much louder than the whispering I had been doing.
"If you're serious," Steven said, "take your speedo and throw it over next to the chair with our towels on it."
He handed me the speedo. I swallowed hard and said a silent prayer, then I threw the speedo with a little too much force. It sailed past the chair and hit the wrought iron fence. And it was traveling sufficiently fast enough to slip between the bars and land outside the pool area.
My face fell. Mike started laughing and Steven kissed my neck, mumbling "If you're a very, very good boy, I'll let you wrap a towel around your waist when we go back to the room. Now scoot over and sit on my cock."
I lifted my butt and went to sit on his lap facing outward, but Steven stopped me and said, "Do it cowgirl style. I want to be able to look into your eyes."
I turned around and squatted on his groin. Steven pulled his fingers out of my butt and then guided me over his rod. I eased myself down over him. I was more than ready. The head of his cock slipped inside me easily. It wasn't quite as easy to get the remainder inside me. We were in the water. I wasn't lubed. He wasn't lubed. But I managed to do it.
I started riding Steven and he started biting my neck. I wanted him to be a little rougher, but I knew he couldn't. He was careful not to leave any marks for my parents to see. Mike was watching us, but he could only really see what was happening above the water. I'll be honest. Fucking in the jacuzzi was awesome because we were surrounded by warm water, but it wasn't very comfortable.
If I hadn't been so horny, I might not have cum at all. But I was hornier than I'd ever been before. I'd tasted Steven dick and swallowed his cum so many times today, and he'd touched me a lot. It was like his hands were on me every time no one was watching us. I'd been on edge all day. And his big cock was hitting my prostate every time I sank back down on him.
"You're a sexy boy, Damian," Steven said. "Your ass is the most amazing thing I've ever been inside, even better than your sweet, cocksucking mouth. It's silky soft, but strong and firm at the same time. You were made to get fucked, boy."
"Mm," I said. "And you were made to fuck me, Master. My ass has never felt more complete than when you're inside it."
We were getting close to climaxing. I was panting and whining. I was sure I wasn't loud enough to be heard over at the pool, but the woman who was riding her boyfriend yelled, "Faggots!" at us.
My body tensed up, but Mike said, "Don't stop. Keep going. I'll handle it."
I didn't know what he could do, but I was too close to stop no matter what. I slammed down on him one last time and felt my dick contract and then release. I started shooting into the warm water of the pool. At the same time, my ass clamped down tight on Steven. I could feel his body tense beneath me like it always did when he was cumming. When his muscles flexed, his body was hard as sculpted stone. Usually he called out, but we were outside, and we'd already attracted unwanted attention, so he growled and sucked my pec hard instead. We both knew he was leaving a hickey, but it was in a place where it would only show during swim practice.
Afterward we kissed some more while Mike escorted the obnoxious couple out of the pool area and pointed toward the door leading into the hotel. Then he strode over and picked up a towel and held it out for me.
"Sorry I missed the climax of the show," he said, "but you two should probably get back to your room before those guys complain to someone else."
I stood up and took the towel. I dried myself quickly and then wrapped the towel around my waist. Steven took the other towel and dried himself. Then we said our goodbyes and went up to our room. In the shower, Steven held me close and said, "I hope you enjoyed your day of servitude."
"I did, but I..." I began.
"... don't think you want to do it for real," Steven finished my thought.
I shook my head and said, "Not a chance."
"Don't worry, babe, we don't have to do it again," he said.
I thought about it for a minute and then looked up into his eyes and asked, "Or... we could do it again sometime, like when we're with Kurt and Dylan?"
"You want to pretend to be my slave in front of my brother and his slave?" Steven asked.
I paused and then said, "Not exactly. I want to be your slave when we're with them. I want it to be real so I can fit in with Dylan and Kurt, but I only want it to be real then."
Steven kissed me and said, "I can live with that deal, so long as the rest of the time we're just boyfriends."
We went back into the room and fell onto the bed. We made out for a while and then Steven said, "I've been entertaining you all day, Damian. Now it's your turn."
"What do you mean?" I asked, running my fingers across his pecs.
"It means that you've drained me dry, boy," he said, toying with my cock.
He was only semi-hard, but I was ready to go again.
"Tonight, you're going to take some responsibility. I still have another hour before your servitude is officially over," he said. "You're going to take this cock of yours and you're going to fuck me with it. I don't mind doing the fucking most of the time. Your ass is too sweet for words to express. But sometimes, I'm going to need you to return the favor."
I couldn't stop myself from grinning. I said, "Your ass is fine too, Sir.
Characters
● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story.
● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave.
● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story.
● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams.
● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard.
● Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school.
● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps.
● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He has an average build.
● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron).
● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt.
● Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store.
● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave.
● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12.
● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt.
● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.