Small Town Slave Boys

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This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story.

This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements.

Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth.

The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger.

This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV.

There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements.

There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual.

For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned.

This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy.

Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/

You can contact me at pseudonominius@gmail.com.

Author's Notes

●       If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. NOTE THAT SOMETIMES GOOGLE WILL NOT ALLOW BULK EMAIL AND THAT SOMETIMES BULK EMAIL WILL END UP IN YOUR SPAM FOLDER OR TRASH.

●       I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories

●       While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here.

●       I hope my revision process has gotten better and there are fewer errors in this chapter. I am my own editor and sometimes I don't catch typos, missing word, and misattribution errors. I apologize if any are still slipping through.

●       My editor is Robbear (robbear78@gmail.com). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better.

Links to My Stories

College Magic Cycle

●       My Roommate the Alchemist

●       Wishcraft

●       Alchemy and Songcraft

●       Magery

●       Elf Master

●       The Pack

●       Tales of Severan

 

Other Stories

·        Small Town Slave Boys

·        Jack and the Giant

·        Sacred Submissives

·        Bellus Cinaedus

·        Guardian Angel

·        Eros in Arcadia

·        Nivean and the Dvergar

·        Desert Heat

·        Constituent Services

·        The Dancing Princes 

Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 12

Dylan

Sunday morning rolled around, and my smart watch alarm vibrated on my wrist, letting me know it was time to get up. This morning was different from any other morning because I was sandwiched between Kurt and Greg. My master was behind me, his strong arms wrapped around my chest, his big cock pressing between my thighs, hard with his morning wood. Greg lay on the other side of me. When I'd gone to sleep last night, he'd been facing away from me, but now he was turned toward me. My face was pressed against his powerful chest and my nostrils were filled with his scent. I didn't like it as much as Kurt's, but it was still more than a little bit arousing.

When I slept over at the Groth house, I set an alarm so I could wake up before my master and take care of his morning needs. I wiggled out of his embrace and down toward his hard cock. Greg had slept with his arm thrown over me, but now his arm lay across Kurt's. Their faces had been almost close enough to touch one another during the night. With me gone, they drew closer together so that I was sandwiched between two erections.

As much as I'd enjoyed Greg's cock last night, Kurt was my master and his was the cock I'd been in love with from the first time I'd seen it. It was dark under the blanket, so I couldn't see anything, but I could feel them poking me and I could smell their masculine scents commingling.

I took hold of Kurt's cock and peeled back his foreskin. I ran my tongue across the tip and savored the layer of precum that covered it. The taste was a little funky since he'd fucked me last night, but I didn't care. I kind of liked the taste. Kurt moaned in his sleep. I took the head of his cock in my mouth and used my tongue to massage the sensitive underside. I took hold of his egg-sized balls in one hand and fondled them gently.

My master awakened and threw the blanket off us. Then he reached down and patted my head. "You know how to make your master feel good, Slave Boy."

Greg woke up and pulled rapidly away from Kurt, as if it burned him to touch another dominant jock while naked. I thought to myself, straight boys! And I continued to worship my master's rod.

Greg moved down lower on the bed and put his hand on my butt. "That was amazing last night, Kurt. Your boy's ass was so damned tight. It was..."

"...better than any pussy you ever had," Master finished for him. "I know."

"Kurt, be serious with me," Greg said. "If I liked fucking Dylan better than I did any of the girls I'm with, does that mean that I'm gay too and just don't realize it?"

It was weird to hear this intimate exchange, that was at least in part about me, but not to be a part of the conversation. It was oddly arousing to hear them talking about me, like I wasn't there. Why did it get me so horny that Greg was thanking my master for the use of my ass last night, and that he was telling him how good it was, while I was right there in the room sucking sock as they spoke?

 

Kurt

I'd known this conversation was going to come up. Was Greg bi? Maybe. Gay? Probably not. He'd just discovered the joys to be found when a tight butt squeezed his cock and he was on the verge of panicking. I wondered if he'd even realized that he was running his index finger up and down Dylan's crack.

I took a deep breath to clear my mind, then I said, "First off, bro, who cares? Labels are bullshit. You fucked my boy last night and it was mind-blowingly awesome. That doesn't make you gay. It doesn't even make you bi. It makes you one of the only two people in the world who've been lucky enough to fuck Dylan."

"What if next time I'm with a girl... I can't... you know... because I'm thinking about how much better it was when I fucked Dylan?"

I had to laugh at that one. "Okay, bro. If you need to picture Dylan's ass while fucking a girl, that could mean you're bi. But let me ask you a question. When you picture a girl naked, do you get excited?"

"Hell yeah!"

"And when you kiss a girl, do you get excited?"

"For sure."

"And when you touch a girl's naked body, do you get excited?"

"Yes."

"Then you still like girls. You're not going to have a problem."

Dylan's mouth was getting me close despite the weird conversation with my second-best friend. He had half my dick in his mouth, and he was already gagging a little. I had a vision of throwing him down on the bed and shoving my cock down his throat all the way, with him choking and gasping until he turned red in the face.

I shook my head and cleared that image from my mind. I had to be careful with Dylan. He was so eager to please me that he would do anything, no matter how painful it was. It made me feel not just like his master, but like his god.

That feeling of power, the look of adoration on his face; the tears streaming out of his eyes as he struggled to take even more of my cock into his throat; the way his hands so expertly cupped and fondled my balls, not too forcefully and not too gently; the way his mouth formed a perfect seal around my shaft while his tongue teased it to new heights of sensation. All these things were happening at the same time. My body shook and then every muscle clenched tight at once.

"Take your master's seed, Slave Boy. Take it straight down your throat. Yes, yes, YES!" His throat convulsed and hummed while I gave him my load.

As I glanced down to see why Dylan's throat was still vibrating on my softening dick, I noticed his ass had been kept busy. At the same moment, Greg must have realized what he'd been doing. He pulled his finger out of Dylan's crack and sat up straight.

"Was that a one-time deal last night, or can I use Dylan's ass again this morning?" he asked sheepishly.

 

Roger

When Cory had first come to me, he'd been small and thin like his nephew Dylan, so I'd put him on an exercise program to make him more muscular. I liked him fit, tight and toned, with enough muscle for definition, but not too much. It had been a challenge to get it right. However, looking at him now, I thought his body was perfect. But no matter how fine he looked, no matter how many times I told him how much I loved him, he was still insecure.

Last night, I'd been gentle, and I'd cuddled him because he'd needed it. His insecurities about his thirtieth birthday had hit him hard. This morning he was in a different mood. I woke up to the warm and wet feeling of Cory's mouth on my cock. My piss was coming out in a steady stream, and he was swallowing it as fast as it came. He knew that my bladder would release if he put his warm wet mouth on my cock, so I knew that he was telling me he was ready for something more than a gentle fuck and cuddle this morning.

His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was wearing his tight leather jock, the one with the little metal cones inside that pushed into his cock. He was also wearing his thick leather collar and body harness. It hadn't even been my idea to buy that little number. That was all Cory. Truth was that he was a lot kinkier than I was.

When my bladder was empty, Cory continued to suck on my cock until he'd teased it to rigid erection. Then he climbed up and straddled me. I could see that he'd attached a heavy chain to the rings in his nipples.

I smacked his firm ass hard. "This is one hell of a way to wake up on a Sunday morning, Boy!"

He smiled down at me and positioned my cock at his hole. I could tell from first contact that he'd already prepared the way, like the good slave he is, "You were so sweet and kind to me last night when I was needy, Daddy. But this morning I want you to tear my ass up before you abandon me to go visit The Creature."

"The Creature" was Cory's nickname for his brother-in-law, Pastor Craig Morgan. He knew why I attended that church. He knew that my plan was to bring the pastor down, but it still hurt him a little that I was giving my apparent support to the man who'd ruined his life.

"Oh, I'm going to tear into you so hard, you won't sit comfortably for the rest of the day. Then you're going to go downstairs and make me pancakes. And while I am at church, you're going to clean the whole house and do the laundry.

I smacked his ass playfully to accentuate each statement. "And if it doesn't pass my inspection, I'm going to beat your ass with a cane."

"Please don't beat me, Master!" he teased.

"Mm. I am going to beat you. You get ten lashes just for trying to weasel out of it. It's what you deserve for questioning your master."

Cory sighed and shuddered. I could tell from experience that his cock was swelling inside its pointy prison and he was feeling it. I knew what he needed. I backhanded the leather pouch, pressing the metal cones harder against his flesh.

"Thank you, Master, for punishing me!" he cried.

Then he pushed himself down over my hard cock. I had a big cock and it was never easy for Cory to take the whole thing, no matter how many times he'd done it before, but he was an expert. He gritted his teeth and pushed down with steady pressure until his smooth, incredibly well-toned, and perfectly round ass was sitting on my pubes.

I lay back and let Cory do the work. He bounced up and down on my cock with vigor, leaning forward enough to run his hands through my chest hair. I took hold of the chain connecting his nipple rings and pulled on it. He moaned through parted lips. "Ungh! Do it harder, Daddy."

I tugged just a little harder and then said, "That's twenty lashes with the cane now for trying to give me orders."

He angled his hips so he could push back against me with more force. He was crushing that spiked pouch against his cock with every bounce. "Sorry, Daddy!"

I had to watch Cory when he got into a masochistic mood. When we'd first gotten together, I'd allowed him to push me past my own, much safer, limits, and I'd hurt him. I made a note to have that discussion with Kurt. Dylan showed all the signs of following in his uncle's path in that regard. I didn't want to see Dylan hurt and I didn't want Kurt to go through the kind of soul searching and self-recrimination I'd gone through.

Cory was moaning louder and grinding harder. He was getting close, and his amazing ass was bringing me along with him. Cory was an expert. He had a talent for clamping his hole tight when pulling off my cock, and then relaxing when he was sinking back down again. I'd only ever been with a few guys. Cory hadn't been my first. I'd been with a few guys in secret back when I was hiding that part of myself, and I'd experimented with sex parties when Cory and I were a new couple. But I'd never been with anyone who could milk my cock with his ass the way my boy could.

"Sit up!" I barked at him, and Cory sat up straight with his hands behind his neck. This was one of his display positions. I could see every muscle on his slender torso, and it was a pretty sight. I loved watching them move under his smooth skin as he bounced up and down. I could also see the leather of his jock tented out, despite the interior spikes, by his swollen cock.

I remembered when he'd begged me to buy it for him. He'd sworn that it would keep him from cumming – we were practicing cum control back then, by which I mean we were trying to limit how many times Cory came to see if it heightened his horniness and sexual response. Of course Cory was always horny, so I didn't really notice a difference. I recalled how surprised we'd both been when he came inside that pouch, even though he couldn't get fully erect and the little metal cones were constantly poking into his small, but perfect, penis.

I knew that Cory preferred to cum from my hand, so I started slapping that pouch with the back of my hand, making him moan even more. "Yes, Master, yes! You hurt me so good!"

Despite the coolness of the room, Cory was covered in a sheen of sweat. The pressure was building inside my shaft and my nuts were beginning to draw up, well as much as they did at my age. I held back as long as I could. If Cory didn't cum by the time I was finished he wouldn't get to at all. When I'd told him that I didn't think that was fair to him, he'd told me, "If I don't cum right now, it means I didn't really need to cum. I'll just keep getting hornier and hornier every time I think of you and then I'll cum next time."

The idea for all these rules had come from Cory, but I had to admit that they made me hot. As I got closer and closer to orgasm, I picked up the tempo and increased the force I used to smack Cory's genitals. That told him that I was getting close to orgasm. He picked up the tempo of his bounces as well.

"Can I cum, Master?" he begged.

I could see the need written across his face. I had only a few seconds to decide. What did my boy need this morning? The way he'd come on so strong could mean that he needed to cum again, but he'd had a mind-blowing orgasm yesterday. The leather harness and spiked jock said his masochism was showing through.

I smacked his jock hard. "No. No orgasm for you this morning, Slave. Maybe later today, if you finish all your work."

His face was torn between joy at having been denied and anguish because he was so close. I pulled his hips down and held him tight against me as I shot my load.

"Take your masters seed, you fucking slave! How many cocks in this relationship?"

"One, Master!"

"So what do you have, if you don't have a cock?"

"A boy clit, Master, a slave nub."

I clung to him while I unloaded. He whimpered and concentrated on not cumming.

I decided to take it easy on him, so I carried him into the shower, took his jock off and sprayed him with icy cold water. I used to get my thrill out of small cock humiliation and cum denial a few years ago, but Cory still got off on it. There was no way I was going to fail to give him what he wanted, not after he'd done so much for me. And that often meant denying him, frustrating him, and controlling him.

When he'd come to me all those years ago, I was in a deep depression, an almost dangerous depression. I'd lost my wife and I'd become a single father. I'd stopped exercising and I was beginning to get soft. I was walking through my life like a sleepwalker. I had two beautiful boys at home who needed me, but I was pulling away from them.

Cory always said that I saved him, but he saved me, like a beautiful ray of sunshine that led me out of the darkness. I started exercising again; I was able to focus on the business; and most importantly, I became the father that my seven year old and five year old needed.

I allowed Cory to kneel in the shower and clean my cock with his mouth. Then he took the washcloth and cleaned my body. "Thank you, Master. I love you."

This was one of the most incongruous things about my life. I started it because I could tell that he needed it all those years ago, but the extent to which I dominated Cory was driven by him. He was excited to have me take care of him and make the decisions, but at the same time, he took care of me in so many little ways. It wasn't just washing me in the shower, and knowing when I needed a massage or foot rub before I did. It was the way he had my work organized for me, never telling me what to do, but anticipating what I would need and having it available for me. When he started cooking for me and the kids, our diet improved. My clothes were always perfectly pressed and ready for me to wear. Sometimes it felt like I dominated him actively, but he was the one who dominated me behind the scenes. If anything ever happened to him, I would be in an even worse place than I had been before he came into my life.

"And I love you, too, my sweet little slave."

When we were both dry, Cory put on a fresh cotton jock. I said, "As horny as you are, you need to wear a cup this morning. I like seeing your little erection pushing against the fabric, but I don't want the boys seeing it."

Cory gave me a wicked smile and asked, "And what about Dylan's hard little nub. Kurt keeps him exposed most of the time around the house."

I kissed Cory's lips, gave his cheeks a firm smack and replied, "Dylan is still a boy. It's different for him to flash us than it is for us – by which I mean you – to flash him. You were only a year older than him when we got together and I seem to remember that you couldn't go more than a few minutes without popping a boner."

Cory obediently put a cup in his jock and then put on a pair of silky booty shorts. "I still can't, at least not when you're around," he said.

As he was leaving the room, he glanced over his shoulder and said, "Now I'm off to make your pancakes, Master!"

He was sassier now that he was sleeping at my house. I wasn't surprised. I knew how happy it would make him.

 

Kurt

When Greg and I finished dressing we headed toward the stairs. Greg looked back the clothes strewn across the floor and the unmade bed and said, "Don't we have to clean up before we have breakfast? I've never seen anything out of place in your house before."

I shook my head. "That's the beauty of having a slave. Dylan will clean up before we go to church."

"Isn't that a little unfair to Dylan?"

I snorted, "Of course it is, but that's the way he likes it. If I clean up after myself he gets mopey like he thinks I won't need him anymore. Sometimes, when he gets like that, I make a mess on purpose just to give him something to smile about."

Greg poked my ribs and said, "And I'll bet that's just torture for you. Sounds to me like you've got it easy in this deal."

I shook my head. "I thought that was going to be the case myself. My dad has made it very clear that things do not work that way with a slave boy. I have a lot of responsibility. It's my job to take care of Dylan and his needs, and he won't ever tell me what he needs because that would require him to `tell his master what to do'. And if he does something wrong, my dad gives me the consequences. It's like I have all the responsibility in the relationship. I don't mind, but it's not easy either."

We'd just come through the door when Greg whispered, "What the hell? I can see his ass in that outfit, not that I'm complaining."

I couldn't tell if he was talking about the fact that Dylan had come upstairs in just his jock, which I failed to notice and was against the rules, or if it was because Cory was bent over pulling a broiling rack out from under the oven. He was thin, but not skinny like Dylan. His muscles were firm and tight and his smooth ass was peeking out at us under his shorts. Last night, he'd been fully dressed, but this morning he wore nothing but those shorts and bright blue jock. When he turned around, we could see silver rings through his nipples.

"If you're referring to my father's Slave Boy, Dylan's not the only eye-candy we have around here now," I whispered back. "You must have noticed that last night?"

Greg shook his head slowly. "Oh I noticed how good looking Cory was last night, but I didn't notice how much they looked alike. Now that I can see them both... um... fully, I'd guess they were father and son or maybe brothers with a big age difference between them."

"Dylan is only twelve years younger than his uncle and only two inches shorter. They do look alike. When I was younger, I thought they had to be brothers."

Our whispers were interrupted by my father. "Dylan, your boy is out of slave uniform. Take him downstairs and spank him. Then make him put his shorts on. As for you, you're grounded for the rest of the day. After breakfast, no visitors. Sorry, Greg."

Dylan gave me an apologetic look. I'd explained the new uniform rules to him, but I'd failed to check that he was properly dressed before letting him come upstairs. I sent Dylan downstairs to wait on me and then pulled Dad aside.

"I know I messed up, but please don't send Dylan home early. His parents are terrible, and he's supposed to stay until 6:00 tonight."

Dad shook his head and said, "Dylan's not a visitor as far as I'm concerned, but the two of you can't have sex or kiss for the rest of the day."

"Come on, Dad, please?"

He shook his head. "No. If there are no consequences, you won't change your behavior."

"But if I have to watch you and Cory kissing, how am I supposed to...? Great! I guess I'll just masturbate when Dylan goes home."

"Sure," he replied. "Of course, you could take this as a lesson to teach yourself, and refrain until tomorrow."

I gave him a skeptical raised eyebrow.

"I've been with Cory for twelve years, and in all that time, I've never masturbated. That's the advantage of having a slave. Of course, it's up to you, but Dylan isn't allowed to masturbate, and he has to wait."

"Frack!" I said. "But Dylan isn't coming over tomorrow. It's a three-day weekend. And we already finished all our homework."

Dad patted my back and said, "But he works tomorrow. If you follow the rules, I'll let you two use my office for a few minutes then."

"Thanks, Dad. You're the best."

Then I went down to the basement and found Dylan on the carpet, in slave position, his knees spread, his back straight and his hands clasped behind his neck. He was waiting for me with his head cast down to the floor. I put my hand on his head and said, "Look up at me, Slave."

When I could see his eyes, I said, "Dad's not sending you home early, but we're not allowed to kiss or have sex for the rest of the day."

I saw the sad look on his face, so I hurriedly added, "Bu-u-ut, he said we could use his office tomorrow for a little bit if we manage to keep to his conditions until you go back to your parent's house."

"That's good, Master," he replied.

Then his face fell. "I'm sorry, Master. I forgot about the rule on wearing shorts."

"Yeah, well, Dad is insistent. I think he's afraid that people will call him a pedophile if word gets out that he has a naked minor running around the house. Which means I need to give you a spanking, and knowing Dad, he's going to check to see if I slacked, so go get your paddle."

I sat down on the side of the bed. Soon Dylan came back holding his paddle. "Don't slack, Master. I messed up and I deserve to be punished."

I picked up a die from the side table, where I kept it for just this purpose. "We don't have any specific numbers of infractions this time so you're going to roll the die three times and we'll multiply them together. If you roll a six three times, it will take me all week to give you the swats you've earned."

"How many is that Master?"

Dylan wasn't dumb, but he thought he was so he never tried to stretch his brain. "Two hundred and sixteen," I replied.

His eyes grew wide, so I reassured him. "The chances of that happening are less than one percent. On the average, you'll get somewhere between nine and sixty-four."

"Oh," he said, "I can handle nine, but sixty four would be a lot, Master."

I chucked him under the chin and said, "Don't worry. If you get more than thirty, I'll convert every ten swats over thirty into a smack on the balls."

Somehow he managed to grit his teeth and smile at the same time. "Twenty-one smacks to the balls. I can probably handle that, Master."

"That would be twenty-six smacks on the butt and nineteen smacks to the balls."

Dylan took the die from my hand and rolled it. It came up with a 5. I said, "That doesn't look so good, Slave Boy. The average now is fifteen to eighty."

He rolled the die again and it came up another 5. Dylan looked at me and I shook my head. "That's twenty-five now, Slave Boy."

"What's the average now, Master?" he asked me.

"You can't get an average on one die, Slave Boy, but there's an equal chance that you will get 25, 50, 75, 100, 125 or 150 swats."

Dylan took a deep breath and then rolled the die again. He breathed a sigh of relief when it landed on a 1. He smiled and said, "So that's only twenty-five swats, right Master?"

I pulled him over my lap and held the paddle to his face. He kissed it and said, "Thank you, Master, for disciplining me so that I can learn to behave better."

Dylan couldn't see my face, so I shook my head. He was really into discipline. I rubbed the paddle on his butt and then pulled back for the first swing. It landed with a powerful smack that sounded through the room. Dylan yelled, "One, Master!"

I smacked him again and he didn't miss a beat. "Two, Master!"

I gave him three more in rapid succession. "Three, Master; Four, Master; Five, Master"

"That's one fifth of the total, Slave Boy. Are you ready for more?"

Dylan's butt was already turning pink. It looked so appetizing I wanted to stick my tongue in and taste his musky sweetness right then.

"Yes, Master. I'm ready."

I gave him ten more. He didn't miss counting a single one. His ass was bright pink now and he was twitching with each blow.

"Damn, bro. You're hitting him awfully hard." I hadn't heard Greg come down the stairs. "Um, can I watch, or is this a private moment?"

"Sit over there on the chair and get yourself an eyeful."

Greg seemed fascinated by the paddling. I noticed him adjusting himself inside his pants before the twentieth stroke. By that time, Dylan was crying. Greg gave me a look that said, aren't you going to stop now?

I shook my head and smacked Dylan's butt again. It had moved beyond pink to light red. He was going to have a bruise tomorrow, but I knew from experience that this paddle distributed the force evenly and the bruise would be dull yellow instead of bright purple.

"Twenty-one, Master!"

I gave him the last four real fast.

He sobbed, "Twenty-two, Master; twenty-three, Master; twenty-four, Master; twenty-five, Master."

Dylan's body was shaking, and I could feel his orgasm when it hit him right between twenty-three and twenty-four. He dropped to his knees, pressed his face to the floor, and kissed my feet. "Thank you, Master."

"Go get cleaned up and put on a fresh jock. Don't forget the shorts this time," I commanded.

Dylan scrambled to obey. Greg looked at me and said, "That boy is seriously fucked up."

"No, he isn't. Don't say that. Dylan's needs are different from yours and mine. I don't think he's ever experienced love before. His parents are... well, you've met his dad once or twice when you went to church with us. They told him he was stupid and lazy, I heard his dad tell him that he would never be worth a damn. He's dyslexic, so bad that he gets headaches almost as soon as he starts reading, but his Dad didn't even want to get him tested. Dylan needs someone to look out for him and to make sure that he does what he needs to do. He's not fucked up, Greg. He's my boyfriend and I'm going to give him what he wants and needs no matter what that is."

Greg shrugged and replied, "My bad! I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that he's so fucking devoted to you, and his uncle seems to be just the same. I offered to help with breakfast, but your Dad said `No'. He said it was Cory's job and he'd get upset if I helped him."

"That's true. Cory pouts if anyone but Dylan helps him with his work."

When Dylan had cleaned up and changed clothes, we went back upstairs. Dad grabbed Dylan and pulled his pants down to get a look at his red butt. "Did you two have sex down there? Dylan's changed his jock."

"No, Sir," I said. "Dylan cums when he gets a good spanking."

Cory started laughing and Dylan turned bright red. But the older slave pulled his nephew into a hug and I heard him whisper, "So do I, Dylan. So do I."

 

Damian

Last night had been amazing. After my slavery ended, Steven had told me that I was going to fuck him. I'd never had the courage to do it before. Steven's cock inside me had felt so good, I was afraid that I'd make a mess of it, that I'd be terrible. However, yesterday he wasn't taking no for an answer. We'd decided to shower first, to cleanse the last remnants of the game we'd played that day from our shoulders, like we were closing down one chapter completely and beginning another. Steven had made sure to place the lube prominently on the nightstand.

This would be my first time as a top and I wasn't sure how to get started, so Steven pulled me into his arms, and we made out for a while. He let me lay back for a little while and follow his lead, but then he grabbed my jaw in one hand and looked me in the eye.

"You're the top tonight. Get aggressive and take charge."

"I don't know what to do, Steven."

He let go of my jaw and brushed one hand against my cheek. "Start with a kiss. Pretend that you're me, and I'm you. Just take charge and think about what you enjoy when I'm topping. Do to me what you like me doing to you."

You'd think that would be useless advice, but it wasn't. I knew very well what Steven did that got me so excited. I kissed his full lips. He didn't grab me and crush my lips like he usually did. He just let me kiss him. Oh yeah! He's waiting for me.

I put my hands behind his head and I crushed his lips instead. It was a strange experience for me. Strange, but arousing. Because I usually allowed Steven to take the lead, being the passive partner had quickly become my comfort zone, but I started to realize that it felt pretty good to be the dominant partner, for a change at least. I laughed inside at the thought of myself as a dom. It was almost as funny as thinking of Steven as a sub.

He tried so hard to be different from his younger brother and his father, but Steven always took charge naturally. He always picked the restaurant or the movie. He hadn't even asked me before this trip. I wasn't complaining. I liked the way I never had to worry about what we were going to do. I liked it when Steven took charge, but I'd give this a shot.

I kissed his strong, stubbly chin and then I kissed my way down his neck to his powerful chest. He was getting stubbly there too. Steven took hold of my head and moved it over to his nipple. I immediately pulled his hands away and held them by his side. I was getting into this and wanted Steven to know I could take control. I flicked it with my tongue and then bit it gently, just like Steven usually did to me. And he moaned just like I usually did. I was really getting into it then. I chewed gently for a while then moved on the other nipple and did that one as well.

Steven wriggled free of my grip and ran his hands through my hair. He kept his cut very short even though he wasn't swimming competitively anymore, but I'd let mine grow out over the summer. "You're doing good, Damian. Keep it up."

"Your nipples taste good, Steven," I said.

Of course they didn't really taste like much of anything, especially after we'd just showered, but they felt good on my tongue. They'd grown hard from the stimulation. I sucked hard on them like I was a baby, eager to feed. And when he grew complacent, I bit down just hard enough to make him jump.

Then I kissed my way down to his navel. There was one thing Steven did to me that felt better than anything else, except, of course, when he worked my ass or my dick, and I was about to see how much he liked it. I paused at his navel and thrust my tongue inside, licking and teasing until he started to giggle.

"You seem to like that, stud! Or should I call you `boy' now that I'm the top?"

Steven smacked my head gently and snarled playfully, "Don't get too cocky, boy! Just because I want your cock tonight, doesn't mean I'm your boy."

I paused for a moment and then replied, "Thank you, Steven. I... I'm really fucking relieved. I like the way we do things. I like being your... not girlfriend, but you know what I mean. I like it when you take charge."

"Am I pushing you too hard?" he asked.

"No, sir... I mean, no not at all. I want to... you know, do it. I want to..."

"You can say you want to fuck me, Damian. It's what I want, too."

I smiled at him and said, "Okay then! I want to fuck you!"

"Nothing else is going to change," he insisted. "Outside of bed, I'll probably forget to ask and just tell you what to do. I'm too much my father's son to do anything else. But when we have sex, I would like it if you were more forceful with me, if you took some initiative, occasionally. It's hot to me when you take what you want, instead of just waiting for me to be satisfied."

"So, you liked it when I kissed you roughly?"

"As much as you like it when I do it to you. I want us both to be strong and active. I want us to struggle a little and then to take turns pleasuring each other. Does that sound okay to you?"

I toyed with his senior class ring that I wore on a chain around my neck and never took off. I nodded. "Yeah. It's more than okay. I think I might like it, but just remember that I may be terrible at it. I may cum as soon as I get inside you. That's how horny I am."

Steven put one hand on my arm and said, "If you think that's going to happen, then use your fingers first and make sure I'm ready to go. It's okay if you don't fuck the cum out of me. I just want to feel you inside me. And then, if I haven't cum, I'm going to flip you over and fuck your little white ass until I get off. That's how it'll work."

I literally breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said. "That's what I needed to hear. I love you, my sexy brown stud muffin."

"I love you too, my little blond studling."

I loved it when he called me "little". I was average size, but Steven was so tall that I did seem small next to him. Most guys seemed small next to him. There was no one on our school's basketball team who wasn't shorter than him. That difference in size brought out my submissive side. At least I used to think I was submissive. After getting to know Dylan and meeting his uncle Cory, I realized that I wasn't all that submissive after all. Or maybe I was and they were just extremely submissive.

I grabbed the lube and rubbed some on his tight hole. A thrill ran through me, sending shivers up my spine. Playing with Steven's ass, in anticipation of fucking him, made me feel like I was breaking a barrier or doing something forbidden. It was almost like when I'd first bought a dildo online and practiced swallowing it down my throat, or when I had the courage to flirt with Steven so I could taste the real thing. It was like I was stepping outside my boundaries or the role my mind had established for me.

I thought about using my tongue, but I wasn't up to that many new experiences in one night. It was fascinating to experience assplay from the other side. His muscles squeezed my finger tight, but just beyond the entrance, he was warm and soft.

"That's the way, Damian. Your finger feels good in there. When you're ready, add a second."

My dick was so hard that I felt like I could burst at any moment. I knew I was going to shoot too soon on my first time, but I did not want to shoot my load before I got started, no matter how good his ass felt on my fingers. I took a deep breath and then pressed my middle finger inside him along with my index finger.

I forced myself to think about something less sexy than Steven's tight, muscular ass, and his big cock that was lying across his abdomen fully erect and leaking. I thought of Mr. Scott, my government teacher. He was older with silver hair and a paunch. It wasn't that much of a paunch, though and I often wondered why he wore such loose trousers. Maybe he was hiding something big in there. I shifted my attention to the janitor, Mr. Brownley. He was balding and had a big nose and a scraggly beard. But his hands were really big, and I kept thinking about the old saying about the connection between hand size and dick size. And then there was Pastor Morgan. I'd only seen him a couple of times when I went to church with the Groths; my family was Catholic. I was hoping that his homophobia would help to cool me down, but my brain betrayed me again. Pastor Morgan was a good-looking guy for his age, despite the large number of freckles on his face, and... Damn it! An image flashed across my mind of me kneeling in front of him while his cock (and it was long and thick in my imagination) slid down my throat. He was calling me a "dirty little faggot" while he fucked my face.

Nothing was working until my mind changed to my mother's friend Alice. She always made me feel uncomfortable. Every time she commented on "what a handsome boy I was", her eyes seemed to linger on me. Once I'd caught her licking her lips subtly when my mom wasn't looking. And then there was Tammy, the daughter of another of my mom's friends. She always tried to sit next to me in church and she was always brushing up against me. Other guys at church were jealous of the way she pressed her big tits against me whenever we were in line for communion, or we were squeezed together in the church van.

I smiled at that thought. I was such a fag! Tammy was objectively a very attractive girl, with curves in all the places that most boys liked, but thinking about her sexually caused my erection to soften just enough. I was no longer worrying about shooting off handsfree while I worked a third finger inside Steven's sexy butt.

"You were gone for a moment there, sexy. What's up?" Steven asked.

"Sorry, I had to think of something unsexy to cool myself down." If I'd ever entertained any thoughts that I could be bi, they were gone now.

"I wondered if it was something like that. You looked distant, but then when I got your attention, your whole body language changed and your smile came back, the one that makes..."

"... me look totally gay! The one I save for you."

Steven smiled back at me and replied, "I was going to say the one that makes the whole room light up, but yeah. It does make you look totally gay."

I was wondering whether I should try and add a fourth finger, but now my mind was stuck. I needed to know. "Does it bother you at all that I'm a lot gayer than you? I mean no one even suspects that you're gay."

Steven knit his brows together and said, "Not at all. I love how gay you are when we're alone, and once you're out, I hope you feel comfortable being your true self all the time. But don't get too caught up in this whole thing about being `too gay'. Just because I'm more reserved than you are doesn't make me less gay. And just because you're more open and expressive it doesn't mean that you're less male. Your maleness is just different from mine. So, if you're worried about not being manly enough to fuck me properly, I want you to know that you can be as `expressive' and `fabulous' as you want while you're pounding me out. And on that note, I think I'm ready for you now."

Steven's ass had stopped resisting me. He felt pretty loose. I took hold of my cock and pushed inside him. Of course the head of my cock was bigger than my finger and the sensation when I forced it inside him was unbelievable. Other than my hand and Steven's mouth, my dick had never been inside anything. And my mind was blown open. Steven's mouth was talented, and he could suck me so hard that it made me cry tears of joy, but the feeling of his ass muscles gripping my cock, even just the tip, was almost indescribable.

"Oh my God!" I cried out. "It's like my dick has never felt anything before in its whole life! This is A-MAAAA-ZING!"

My voice had gone up in pitch so much and I almost sang that last word. Steven was smiling at me like... a fool? No, not that. He was smiling at me with a mixture of pride and indulgence like a coach who was proud that his protégé had hit a home run and was also amused by his childish excitement.

He pulled his knees back tighter against his chest and he said, "There he is. There's my exuberant little gay boy being true to himself. I love it when you do that! Now push inside me slowly. I want to show you something!"

I pushed a little further and the head of my cock popped fully inside him. Steven winked at me and his ass clamped tight around the sensitive area of my cock, just below the head. He saw the look on my face and asked, "Do you like that?"

"Oh God, yes!" I cried.

"Push inside me just an inch or so at a time, so I can give you a proper welcome."

I pushed a little farther inside him, and he squeezed me again. I pushed more inside and he squeezed. We did that two more times. When my groin brushed against his ass, he said, "Your cock feels good inside me, loverboy. It's time for you to fuck me."

I couldn't stop smiling. "Oh, you're going to get fucked, sir. You'd better believe it!"

I started pumping inside him. I began slowly. As I pulled out, Steven clamped down with his ass muscles, like he was trying to keep me inside him. And when I pumped back inside him, he seemed to relax and welcome me. That was the cycle. Pull out with him squeezing my cock, and thrust inside with his soft and warm ass opening to welcome me.

All that pent up need that I'd managed to banish came crashing down on me again. I tried to hold back the excitement, but my brain wasn't capable of thinking of curvy girls right now. I had a tightly muscled stud lying in front of me. All six feet and four inches of incredibly handsome masculinity focused on giving me pleasure. His nut brown skin was lustrous under its light coating of sweat and his big cock was throbbing in time with my thrusts. And his ass was massaging my cock with greater force than his mouth ever had.

My skin began to tingle, and my breathing was growing shallower and more ragged. "I'm not going to last long. I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't worry about it, Damian. You're doing fine. If you're ready, just go ahead and let go. Cum if you need to."

I cried, "Uh... uh... UH... UH! Fuck! your ass is... the... most... amazing... thing... EVER!"

Waves of pleasure washed over me, cascading from head to toe and back again before coming together in a single point – my cock! I knew that I'd orgasmed before. But nothing, nothing in my whole life, had ever made me feel as good as I did at that moment in time. All my earlier orgasms were like a pale shadow of this one, like they'd been mere reflections or illusions and this was the real thing. My whole body seemed to contract and then to release the tension. And it didn't just happen once. It happened over and over again. Masturbation had never felt like this, and neither had Steven's mouth. At one point, I think I actually saw stars.

I don't know when I started crying, but when the last of my seed had pumped out into Steven's tight ass, there were tears streaming down my face. I looked down at Steven's cock, still hard and throbbing across his six-pack abs.

I started sobbing, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't... You didn't cum."

Steven pulled himself off my dick and wrapped his arms around me. They felt so strong and masculine on my smooth, hairless skin.

"Shh. Don't worry about it, baby. That's okay. Your cock felt wonderful inside me. You're overwhelmed right now. But. you don't need to worry because I know just how to fix this. I know how much you love my cock inside you..." I nodded, still blinking away tears, "... and I know that getting some perspective on your feelings will help. So how about I slide into that sweet ass of yours and balance those feelings for my beautiful baby?"

He lay me down on the bed and pressed slippery fingers against my hole. He'd already fucked me tonight, so it didn't take much before I was ready for him. He moved between my legs and pressed inside me with gentle but irresistible force. My mind started to focus even before he kissed my tears away.

I took a deep breath. "I know I wasn't very good. That was too fast and..."

"...and it's not like I'm never going to cum again. In fact,I'm going to cum in just a minute or two, right here in your sweet hole. Your cock felt great inside me, studling, and I want to feel it again, eventually, many many times over. But, it takes practice to be as studly as I am," he flashed me a smile and a wink, "and we both know that this right here is how it was meant to be, my cock buried inside you. Shh, it's okay baby boy. You had an emotional experience and now you're full of self-doubt. But you're going to have to listen to your man when he tells you to not worry about all that. I'm telling you that you were great."

Steven always knew what to say to make me feel better. He pushed my legs apart with his knees and slowly sank his whole cock inside me. Then he wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me tight against him. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist. I didn't want to let him go. If I could hold him inside me forever, I'd be in heaven.

"Not as good as you are, sir," I replied. Whenever I got too emotional or needy, calling him "sir" always seemed right to me.

Steven kissed my nose and teased, "Not too many people are, Damian."

"Cocky bastard!" I said.

"And that's what you love about me."

"Damn right, sir!"

Steven's cock filled me up and made me feel complete. He moved expertly inside me, brushing my prostate with each thrust. I melted into him, letting him take the lead completely. He was kissing me when he came. Then we lay together, arm in arm for an hour or so, gently caressing one another.

 

Steven

We woke up late and showered together. Damian posted some of the selfies from yesterday to Instagram so everyone would think we were at the races again today. We went swimming again, but the pool was full of families so we couldn't get expressive. Then we lay out in the sun to dry. It wouldn't be too long before it was too cold for that.

We were going to meet Jordan and drive out to the college so he could show us around. I put on a black athletic cut polo shirt and jeans. I wore my athletic shoes. Damian took more time to choose. He'd put on a pair of hot pink high rise briefs and a tight pink tee-shirt with a camouflage pattern.

I walked over and wrapped one arm around his shoulders and used the other to stroke his firm ass. "That's a daring look, but, sadly, you're going to need to put on some pants if we're going out in public."

He leaned back against me and said, "If you don't stop touching my butt, we're going to be even later because you'll have to fuck me before we go."

I smacked his butt and said, "Don't get too feisty with me, or I'll have to take you up on that."

I let him go and he fished through his clothes until he decided on a pair of light blue distressed jeans and a shiny shirt in light green that was thin and silky. He left the top three buttons undone so the pink camo showed underneath, and my high school class ring was impossible to miss. Damian had decided on a pair of shocking pink socks which he wore under his deck shoes. He completed the look with his colorful bead bracelets, several of them on each wrist. Then he held his arms up and turned around for me.

"Mm" I said, moving in to nuzzle his neck. "It takes a while, but I can't complain about the results."

I took his hand and pressed it back against my erection. It was pushing hard against the button fly of my jeans.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as we left the room. Damian had no fear of being outed here in Indianapolis because we were so far from everyone we knew. We got some looks when we walked through the lobby, but no comments. I held the door for him and put my hand on his back as he walked through. When we got to my car, I held the door for him while he climbed in.

"You're treating me like we're on a date," he said. "Don't stop, please. I love it."

"I have to stop when we get closer to home, but this is going to be us once you're out of the closet. I'm always going to treat you right and never let anyone doubt that you're mine."

"Six weeks!" he exclaimed. "Just six weeks and then I'm going to let my family know."

"And how do you feel about that?" I asked.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "I hope it will be okay. I love my family, but I need to be open and honest about who I am."

"How do you think your family will take it?" I asked.

Damian thought about it and then said, "I'm not sure. My dad sometimes acts like he knows, but then other times he's asking me about girls at school. My mom's really religious. She may suspect something because she keeps trying to find girls for me."

"And your brothers and sisters?"

Damian shrugged. "Well, you know I have four brothers and two sisters, all older than me. Frank and Ben are a lot older than me and we don't see them very often. I doubt they'd say anything unless I upset Mom too bad.

"Catherine is even more religious than mom and I know she'll be upset, but she's married to a Baptist minister over in Evansville. She and mom argue about religion all the time, so maybe they could find common ground in disapproving of me.

"Um... Michael already knows. I told him last year, but I did it under the seal of the confessional. He's cool with it. He's been counseling me and he's even more liberal on the issue than the current pope. I think he may be gay himself. He implied that a lot of gay men find fulfillment in the clergy.

"I think James and Celia will be okay with it. James is in college and he makes a point of letting me know which of his friends are gay even if it isn't relevant to the story, and he gives me a look every time. And you know Celia. She's really into music and pop culture. She's the one who first showed me Lil Nas X and Troye Sivan."

It sounded to me that James and Celia already knew. She probably even knew about me and her brother. She'd been... insistent in school. I'd been forced to tell her I was gay to convince her that we weren't going to be a couple. She'd kept my secret for two years.

"Hey! That doesn't seem so bad. And if worse comes to worse, you can move in with me. My dad likes you," I said.

"Thank you so much, Steven. That means a lot to me."

**********

We picked Jordan up at his house and then allowed him to show us around the IUPUI campus. There weren't many students there on the Sunday of a three-day weekend, but we were able to get a look at the buildings and facilities. Everything seemed nice. I was able to see some of the student photography work, and it inspired me to take a series of photos of Damian around campus. He was naturally photogenic and seemed to pose with a casual ease that made me a little envious.

I got a picture of him laying sideways on a bench under a tree, and another of him sprawled on the grass with his hands tucked behind his neck. He was smiling up at the camera and I wanted to jump on him and take him right there in full view of all who would be lucky enough to see us. I took pictures of him in the student union and leaping into the air to catch a frisbee some college guy had thrown with too much force for his friend to catch it.

"Did you see how hot that guy who threw the frisbee was?" Jordan asked.

"Huh?" I asked, snapping a few pictures of Damian as he ran back toward us.

"Dude, you're mooning over Damian worse than you did after Kieran," Jordan said. "I can't blame you. He's sexy and he's totally in love with you, not so asexual, like your last love."

"What makes you say that?"

"About Kieran's asexuality, or about you being infatuated with Damian?"

I shrugged. "Both I guess."

"Well, you're so caught up in your blond high schooler that you didn't even notice how hot that guy is. That guy, the one with the low slung shorts and no shirt."

He directed my attention back to the guys with the frisbee. Then he said, "As for Kieran. That boy had an almost supernatural way of avoiding me. He always managed to pull away when I tried to casually brush against his ass, even when his back was turned. I put it to the test. No matter how sneaky I was, he always turned at just the right moment so that I couldn't put a finger on him in a way that wasn't obvious."

"Are you saying he had a sixth sense that warned him whenever you were about to creep on him?"

"If you want to put it that way, yes."

Damian had run back to a building to get a drink from the water fountain outside the wall. I was staring at him, but I asked Jordan, "What's going on with you? Are you with Sylvia or Silas?"

He poked my arm and said, "What would you say if I said I was fucking them both?"

That got my attention. I turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Boy-girl twins? Bless your depraved little heart."

 

Dylan

Sitting through church was easier when I was with Kurt and Mr. Groth. Somehow Dad's snide homophobia didn't wound me so badly. Mr. Groth would put a hand on my shoulder and give it a squeeze. It reminded me that someone loved me.

After the service, my mother came over to me and adjusted my collar. It wasn't like it was crooked. Kurt would never let me go out looking sloppy. But she pulled me aside. "You look good, Dylan."

"Thank you, Mom."

She seemed nervous or anxious for some reason. "Um. How are you? Are you happy, Dylan?"

"I'm really happy, Mom. I... why do you ask?"

It was like she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do it. She sighed and waved her hand in front of my face. "Don't tell me any details. I... I can't handle that right now. I just want to know that you're happy with... whatever you may be doing right now."

"I am, Mom. Trust me, I am."

She closed her eyes for a moment and said, "You and Kurt are very close these days. Is it...? Um... it's not... it's not Mr. Groth you've gotten so close to is it?"

"Oh no! No! Mr. Groth isn't... well he doesn't do anything. He's like..."

I hesitated, afraid to say what I wanted to say, afraid she would be upset, but she finished my thought for me. "He's like a father to you. I think I've always known that he was looking out for you over the years."

I nodded. "He is. I hate to say it because it makes me sound disloyal."

She put a hand on my cheek and asked, "How is he?"

"Mr. Groth is fine, Mom."

"No. Sorry. How is... Cory?"

I'd promised Mr. Groth I wouldn't say anything about my uncle being around to either of my parents. But there was no way I could lie to Mom's face, not when she was being so genuine with me. I nodded and said, "He's fine, Mom."

"Is he happy?"

"Yes, he is. He's doing good and he's happy."

She smiled at me and said, "Tell him... no, don't say anything! Thank you. And Dylan, you can stay with Kurt until 10:00 p.m. tomorrow. And please tell him to stop being so... affectionate in the car when he drops you off."

My ears turned red as I nodded my agreement. Then she surprised me by kissing my cheek. She'd never been very demonstrative in the past.

When I walked back over to Kurt, he was giving me a quizzical look. I shrugged and whispered, "She seemed unusually nice."

"What did she want?" he asked.

"Let's see. It's clear that she knows what we're doing because she asked if I was happy with you. Then she said that I can stay at your house later tomorrow, so long as I'm home by 10:00 p.m. Oh, and she asked me about Cory."

Kurt put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. "You didn't admit he was at our house, did you? Dad told us she couldn't know. You remember what happened last time."

"I'm a terrible liar. I couldn't have pulled it off if I tried, and she wasn't mad. She wanted to know if he was happy. I told her that he was, and she smiled at me. There's something weird going on with her."

"Maybe she's finally becoming human," Kurt said.

We were heading out. Dad and Mr. Groth had already gone to the Church Council meeting and Tommy was in the back courtyard hanging out with some of his obnoxious friends waiting for everyone to leave so he could clean the church. Before we got to the front door, Mr. Williams called us over. He was the technical guy who kept all the recording equipment running. We'd avoided him last weekend, but there was no way to do so today.

Mr. Williams was about ten years younger than my dad, putting him somewhere in his thirties. He had dark blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore his hair in a very short buzz cut. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't an attractive guy by any stretch of the imagination.

We followed him into the room that served as his office and the control room for the electronics. It was upstairs over the back room where the chorus assembled. There was a one way window that allowed him to look out over the chapel. He took the only chair in the room, leaving me and Kurt to stand.

"What did you need, sir?" Kurt asked.

Mr. Williams flipped a switch and a video started playing. My blood ran cold. It was the video Kurt and I had recorded in the church. I was lying on the altar masturbating while Kurt encouraged me. I had no idea why we'd done it. It was stupid and dangerous; and apparently Mr. Williams had been in the booth, recording us.

The video Kurt had made didn't show him because he'd taken it with his phone, but this one showed us both. He allowed the entire video to play before he turned to face us. My ears were burning and Kurt looked like he was in shock.

"What do you have to say for yourselves, boys?"

I started to say something, but Kurt interrupted me. "There's nothing we can say. The video speaks for itself. You must want something, or you would have already shown this to the pastor."

Mr. Williams nodded. "Smart boy. Let me tell you what's going to happen. You boys are going to suck my dick and then I'm going to fuck you. And not just once. We're going to set up a schedule and you boys are going to take care of me on a regular basis."

"No! Ma... Kurt doesn't do that kind of thing. I'll do whatever you want. Just leave him out of it."

Kurt put his arm around my shoulders and said, "Shh. I'm a part of this too. You wouldn't have done it if I hadn't made you."

He turned toward Mr. Williams and said, "This isn't right. It's blackmail and you could go to jail for it."

Mr. Williams leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Could, but I won't because neither of you are going to say anything. I have no idea what your Dad would do to you, Kurt, but the Pastor would skin you alive, Dylan. Or he'd send you to one of those conversion camps. You boys like cock and I like getting my cock sucked, so this is a win-win deal."

I interrupted Kurt this time. "Kurt isn't the one who likes cock. That's me. Just use me and leave him alone!"

Mr. Williams said, "Damn, Kurt. Your little boyfriend seems willing to do anything to protect you. Well, I'm not unreasonable. I still need you to get naked while I'm fucking your boyfriend, but I won't make you suck my dick.. not yet anyway."

"Can we think about it?" Kurt asked.

Mr. Williams shook his head. "Nope. There's nothing to think about. Either you get naked, and Dylan starts sucking my dick in the next minute or I show this video to the pastor."

He set a timer on his cellphone and sat it down on the table. I looked over at Kurt. I'd never seen him like this. His mouth was set in anger, but his eyes were moist with tears. I realized that he didn't know what to do. He was as lost as I was.

I kicked off my shoes. "It's okay, Master. This is something I can do for you."

I pulled my clothes off and knelt on the carpet in front of Mr. Williams. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down, exposing his cock. I would have thought it was big if I hadn't seen Kurt's. It was twice the length of mine and easily twice as wide.

"Suck it!"

I took hold of his hard cock and wrapped my lips around the head. Despite the circumstances, my dick got hard. I was embarrassed. I felt like I was betraying Kurt, but seeing any cock, or even a hint of a cock, made me hard. Putting one in my mouth made me unbearably hard, even one I hated as much as I hated Mr. Williams right then.

"It's too bad that I'm going to have to share the video. I assume the pastor's son is your slave from the way he calls you master. He has a sweet mouth, but you're still fully clothed."

I saw Kurt removing his clothes out of the corner of my eye. I swallowed as much of Mr. William's cock as I could before I started gagging. There was about two inches left, which wasn't surprising, I could never get the last four inches of Kurt's cock into my throat either.

Mr. Williams reached over and took hold of Kurt's cock. "Damn you're a big boy, Kurt. I thought I had a king size cock, but yours is a monster. I know what we can do with you. While I'm getting blow by your boyfriend or fucking him, I'm going to play with your cock and ass."

Kurt didn't resist, but he said nothing. I concentrated on the cock in my mouth. It wasn't enough for Mr. Williams. He slapped Kurt's head and said, "Answer me when I talk to you, boy, and you'd better remember to call me `sir'."

"Yes, sir," Kurt said. I could tell he wasn't happy with it.

"Mm. I like that. Now force your boyfriend's face all the way down. I want to feel his nose pressing into my pubes in thirty seconds."

"Yes, sir," Kurt replied.

Then I felt his hands on the back of my head. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Dylan."

I tried to tell him with my eyes that it was okay. He pushed my head down and held it while I choked and gagged. He let my head up so I could breathe and then pushed me down again. I gagged and mucus poured out of my throat, all over Mr. Williams dick.

Kurt bent down and put his arm around my shoulders. I whispered, "It's okay, Master. Just help me get through this quickly."

Kurt guided my mouth back down on Mr. William's dick. With Kurt's arms around me, I was able to relax. I gagged a few more times, but eventually I got to the point where I could take him without gagging. When he came in my mouth, I dutifully swallowed his cum.

Then I stood up. Mr. Williams was wiping a soiled finger across Kurt's face.

"Now get dressed. And when I see you boys back here on Tuesday night, your asses better be clean or you'll both be sorry," he threatened.

He made us give him our cell phone numbers and then we left. On the way to the car I put my finger on Kurt's face to wipe away the brown smear, but he grabbed my hand. "Don't!" he said. "If I let you clean it I would feel so much better, but I don't want to calm down right now. I want to be reminded of how angry I am. I'll clean it when we get home."

Kurt was quiet as he drove me back to his house so I could get ready for work. He still wasn't in the mood to talk when we walked into the house. He slammed the door behind us and then turned and punched it so hard that the thump could be heard echoing around the room.

I didn't know what to do so I ran in front of him and flung myself on the floor, pressing my face to the carpet. I was scared, not of Kurt - he'd never hurt me - but for Kurt. I was afraid he was going to do something that he would regret.

I was a little hurt when he walked past me into the bathroom. I could hear water running for a few minutes. Then he came back into the room and let out a weary sigh. "Get up, Dylan."

My eyes were watering when I stood up. Dylan grabbed me and hugged me tight against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Master," I said but Kurt couldn't hear me because he was talking at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Dylan. That man forced you to blow his nasty dick and it's all my fault. I never should have gotten you to expose yourself like that. I don't know what I can do."

I sobbed against his chest. "No, I'm sorry, Master. I thought you were mad at me for getting us in this situation and then jumping in and offering to blow Mr. Williams."

Kurt pulled me over to the sofa and held me gently on his lap. "No! It was me who caused this problem and if you hadn't jumped in and tried to save me there in the control booth, I would have punched him in his stupid beardy face and then we'd both be in more trouble than we are."

I sat there and let Kurt hold me. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent. It calmed me a little. "We have to do what he says, Master."

Kurt stroked my hair and said, "I know, Dylan. I know. We'll figure something out. But we'll have to go along with him until we do."

"I didn't want him to do anything to you, Master," I said. "That's why I volunteered to suck his dick."

Kurt kissed my nose and said, "And I thank you for that, sweet little Slave Boy, but he's not going to stop. He already fingered my ass the whole time I was forcing your head down on his cock. If he fucks me, he fucks me. I'll get him back. If we don't figure it out before then, I'm going to accuse him of rape and blackmail as soon as you turn eighteen. I just can't risk your dad sending you away."

"I don't ever want to leave you," I said.

"And I'm never going to let that happen. I'm going to keep you safe and secure with me no matter what it takes."

"Are you going to tell your dad?"

"No way. He'll be pissed at me for exposing you like I did. I'll talk to Steven on Monday night. He'll help me figure out something. In the meantime, never think I'll be mad at you for doing what you have to do."

I wanted to tell him about Tommy, but I didn't. I'd kept meaning to bring it up all weekend, but I just couldn't get the words out. I decided he had enough to worry about with Mr. Williams. Tommy was my problem. I'd figure that one out.

We sat there as long as we could. Then I got ready for work and Kurt drove me. 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.