Small Town Slave Boys
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It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you
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Comments from my readers drive my creativity.
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.
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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.
●
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
●
My Roommate the Alchemist (Concluded)
●
Wishcraft (Concluded)
●
Alchemy and Songcraft
●
Magery
●
Elf Master
●
The Pack
●
Tales of Severan
Other Stories
Small Town Slave Boys
Chapter 15
Wednesday after Labor
Day
Dylan
I had set my alarm to wake me up 30 minutes early so I could shower, douche my ass, and get ready to service my younger brother. It was not a task I was looking forward to, but it was a task I was resigned to. I made sure to dry myself completely. Standing in front of the mirror, I took a long look at my face. I had a black eye, and my lip was split. I had bruises from Dad's belt on my arms from where I'd shielded my face. And when I twisted around, I could see welts on my back and my legs.
I brushed my teeth and combed out my hair, checked my ass to see if I needed more lube, then I returned to Tommy's room. I closed the door and flipped the lock. Then I crawled back into the bed. Tommy's alarm was going to go off in five minutes, so I carefully took his cock in my mouth and started sucking it. He began stirring in his sleep, but he didn't wake for a few more minutes.
His cock grew hard, and he moaned. Then I felt his hands in my hair. It was still damp, and I hoped that wouldn't piss him off. I probably shouldn't have worried. Getting his dick sucked was all too new for Tommy to think about anything else while it was happening. "Fuck, Dylan. You suck cock like you were made for it."
I applied a little more suction and used my hand to fondle his balls. Tommy's hands became more insistent. He must be getting closer because he was pulling me tighter down on his cock. "Fuck! I knew Dad was full of shit. If there is a God, he made you just for sucking cock. FUCK! Keep doing what you're doing with your tongue."
I continued massaging the head of his cock while I sucked him harder. I squeezed a little firmly, but not enough to cause pain. That made Tommy start bucking his hips and pulling my head down harder. I sucked as hard as I could and he yelled, "Suck that shit right down your fucking throat!"
I continued sucking until he stopped cumming. Then Tommy patted my arm and said, "Come on up here. I want to be able to play with your ass until it's time to get up."
I was glad that I'd decided to make sure I was always clean for Tommy because I had no idea when he'd demand my ass instead of my mouth and I was terrified of what he would do if I weren't clean enough for him. I moved up and lay next to him. He pulled me closer and said, "Don't be afraid of me, Dylan. I won't ever hit you unless you need it. So long as you do what you're told, no one will ever hurt you again."
He moved his fingers along my crack. When he found my hole, he stopped and rubbed it. Then he pushed his finger inside. He wasn't gentle. It was probably more due to inexperience than to cruelty, but it still hurt. Still, I forced myself to smile. "I'll do what you say, sir. I want... I need to thank you for what you did last night. I'm afraid that... I'm afraid that Dad will get his revenge on you."
Tommy thrust his finger in and out of my hole. I was glad that I'd lubed so well. I realized that when Kurt did this to me, he was trying to make me feel good. For Tommy, it was about his own wants and needs. At least I thought it was until he said, "Does it feel good when I play with your ass, Dylan? I want to make it good for you, too."
What was I supposed to do? If I said no, would he try harder or would he be angry and hit me like he did Dad? I didn't want either of those two possibilities. I didn't want him to try to make me enjoy having sex with him. I didn't ever want to enjoy it. I wanted it to be bad, to be painful, to be so fucking repulsive that I couldn't ever get used to it. And as happy as I was to see him lay into Dad the way he had, he'd terrified me. If he turned on me and hit me the same way, I was afraid of what he could do to me.
Tommy shoved a second finger inside me and said, "Answer me, Dylan!"
I lied. "It feels great, Sir. You make me wish there was time before we had to go so you could fuck me, Sir."
"GOOD!" he said. "I'm horny again and I don't think it will take too long for me to cum."
He rolled me over onto my stomach and smacked my butt. I flinched and inhaled sharply. To his credit, Tommy apologized. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Does this still sting?"
He ran a finger over a welt on my butt and let out a low whistle. "That looks painful. I'll try and be careful when I fuck you. Now let's get your ass up so we can do this."
He lifted my hips and positioned me so that I was kneeling on the bed with my ass up and my head down. He moved between my legs and rubbed his cock up and down my crack. He knew nothing about foreplay, so he pushed his cock inside me as soon as he found my hole. Kurt was bigger, much bigger, but he always made sure I was ready for him. The pain was sharp enough to make me gasp, "Aaargh! Fuck, that hurts!"
Tommy snarled, "Shut up and take it Dylan! It's your own damned fault if you're not ready to get fucked."
It was like he had two personalities fighting for control of him. One was tender and sweet and unsure of himself, a young man who'd just lost his virginity and was grateful to me for helping him. The other was the bully I'd known all my life, the one who modeled himself on our older brother Donny. I felt sympathy for the first, but I was afraid of the second.
Tommy shoved all the way inside me. His cock was a little more than half as long and wide as Kurt, so it didn't take long for me to adjust to the intrusion, but my hole itself was still throbbing as he pistoned in and out. I felt no pleasure from this fuck, and I didn't want to. I worked my ass muscles, squeezing when he pulled out and relaxing when he pushed inside. I was trying to get him to cum quickly, and I was succeeding.
"Work that ass, Dylan! Work it like the little faggot you are!" His breathing was growing heavier and he was slapping my hips, heedless of the pain he was causing. "Take it, you little bitch! Take my load! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
He thrust all the way inside and then collapsed on top of me. He almost pushed me to the mattress with his weight, but I held on with my legs trembling. Finally, he stopped panting and pulled out. He pulled me next to him and put his face next to mine. I could have sworn that he was about to kiss me, but at the last minute, he pulled away and jumped out of bed.
"We have ten minutes before we have to be downstairs," he announced.
Kurt
When I got home last night, I had a text from Dad asking me to wait up for him, so I sat at the small kitchen table, collecting my thoughts. When he came in, he grabbed a glass of cold water and joined me. "So, what's up, son?"
I was sitting there deep in thought, so he waited. I was usually much more comfortable talking about sex with Steve, but he and Damian were upstairs in bed. Besides, this really was a question for Dad. He would know more about the issue.
I let out a breath I hadn't been aware I was holding. "It's Dylan, Dad. Sometimes he scares me."
Dad smiled at me and tried to make light of the situation. "Since he's a lot smaller than you, I assume you are talking about something more than just physical fear."
"Yeah. I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid for him."
Dad scooted his chair over and put an arm around my shoulders. "You're going to have to elaborate if you want me to help you out."
"He has some... problems? Issues? I don't know what to call it. He has low-self-esteem, real low self-esteem."
Dad nodded. "We've known this for years. He's had to grow up with Craig Morgan. With that kind of abuse, how was he supposed to gain any self-esteem?"
I nodded. "Yes, I know, but it's more than that. I'm afraid that I'm going to hurt him. He won't use a safe word and... I'm afraid I'm going to take things too far, Dad."
Dad closed his eyes for a moment and then replied, "Cory was the same when he first came to me. He was self-destructive. He had a need to be punished that drove him to recklessness. The secret that bad doms never learn is that it is the sub who is in control. A good dom allows the sub to lead the action while maintaining the appearance of domination. In your case, however, it has to be different. As his dom, you're going to have to be aware and impose limits on yourself. Dylan's low-self esteem and his self-destructive urges make it too difficult for him to have that power. Hopefully, he'll gain some self-esteem and get past these dangerous impulses as he matures and then he can do his part as a responsible sub."
I looked around warily. "Where's Cory?"
Dad replied, "I sent him up to our room. I told him this is private, so he won't come down and interrupt us."
I said, "Good. I don't really want him to hear us. I'd hate to trigger him or something..."
"I get that. Cory had his own issues with self-esteem and destructive impulses when he first came to me, but he has gotten past that now. And with your help, Dylan can get past it as well," he said.
"What if he doesn't accept my limits?"
Dad chuckled. "You're the dom, Kurt. When push comes to shove, Dylan is going to do what you tell him to do."
I sighed. "That's a lot of responsibility."
Dad pulled me against his strong chest and hugged me tight. "Being a dom is always a lot of responsibility, but even more so with Dylan because he is a special case. It's the only reason that I hesitated when I realized you were set on having him. If it's any consolation, I have faith in you. And if you're ever unsure, ask me. Just do it in private; you don't want to undermine your authority with your sub."
"And you say that Cory has gotten over his need to be punished severely?" I asked.
Dad hesitated before responding. "Mostly. Sometimes he still falls back into his old ways. What I do in those situations is to use my own judgment. I have clear lines that I won't cross, no matter how eager Cory is."
"Why are they like that, Dad? Is it genetic?"
He shook his head. "No... maybe... yes... I think it's a combination of things. It's probably at least partially genetic. Craig's younger brother, Kenneth, Kieran's dad, was almost as submissive as Dylan. He found a woman to tell him what to do, which I think helped him to manage his gay urges, but he was timid around Craig until the day he died. But most of it is probably the way they were raised. You know what Craig Morgan is like. Well, old Thomas Morgan, Craig's father was as bad as Craig. And Silas Lundgren, Cory and Bethany's dad, was no better."
I understood. I knew Pastor Morgan well enough to know exactly what Dad meant. Dylan, Cory, and apparently Kieran's father, had grown up hating themselves for their own gayness. Suddenly I was overcome with emotion. I hugged my dad tight and said, "Thank you, Dad, for never making us feel bad about who we were. Sometimes when I look around this town, I'm thankful that you are my dad."
He hugged me back, just as tight. "And when I look around this town, I'm glad that you and Steve are my sons."
**********
The next morning, I was in a better mood. I had thought a lot about what I needed to do with Dylan. Dad had given me some good advice, but I was beginning to think that I should talk to Cory as well. Maybe he could give me insight into what worked for him, but I'd need Dad present. He'd told me that Cory still had problems from time to time and I didn't want to trigger anything.
Dylan and Tommy had gotten into the car without incident. I always avoided looking directly at Dylan when he first got in the car because he had the habit of smiling so big that I thought he'd give himself away. Heck, if Tommy weren't in the car, I would probably have kissed him good morning, so I was no better at keeping secrets than he was.
We hadn't gotten very far however before I noticed Dylan's split lip and black eyes. One was really dark and the other only lightly bruised. We were passing a field on our right, so I pulled over. Overwhelmed with anger, I slammed the car into park and got out. I opened Tommy's door and dragged him out of the car.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, TOMMY?" I yelled as I pushed him up against the car.
I'll give him credit. The kid wasn't showing fear, despite the fact that I was taller and a hell of a lot more muscular than him. He stared straight into my eyes and said, "I didn't do anything, asshole!"
Dylan had gotten out and come around to where I was pressing Tommy against the side of the car. I had him held there with all my strength, so it took a few seconds to understand what Dylan was saying. "It wasn't him, Kurt! It was Dad! Tommy stopped him!"
I shook my head to clear my anger. I heaved a sigh and then backed off. "Okay then. Tell me what happened."
Dylan told me the whole story. How his father had accused him of getting into his stuff in his office and telling Kieran about some letter. And then he'd beaten him, first with his fist and then with a belt.
"And that's when Tommy attacked him," Dylan said.
I let Tommy go. "Why would you do that? Why would you hit your father like that?"
The boy gave me a smug look. "I didn't just hit him. I beat the shit out of him. I did it because Dylan is my brother, and my dad is an asshole. Why do you care?"
I sighed. "Dylan's my bo... he's my friend... my best friend."
I'd almost let the cat out of the bag on that one. I was going to have to be more careful. But if Tommy noticed, he didn't say anything.
Michael Wilder
I had my planning period coming up, so I'd gone to the teacher's lounge to get a cup of coffee. I had to fish around in the Keurig box for a plain black coffee. I needed to start bringing a thermos from home. These things were bad for the environment, but I needed my morning caffeine. I was just about to head back to my room when I saw Damian. At first, I didn't recognize him. His hair was hanging limp on his head, and he'd parted it on the side and brushed it back. He was wearing a plain blue shirt and khakis and he'd left his bracelets at home. And for the first time since he'd come to this school, he had a dejected look on his face.
I'd asked him to tone down his dress and his affectations just a little, but I hadn't expected him to crawl into a shell. I needed to talk to him. But just as I was about to head in his direction, I saw something else that I had to deal with. Dylan Morgan was coming down the hall and it looked like he'd been in a fight. I had to check on him before I dealt with Damian. It wouldn't be the first time that he had gotten roughed up by bullies because they thought he was gay.
I called out, "Dylan, come in here for a moment. I want to talk to you."
Dylan was a small guy, a little less than five and half feet and very thin. I knew him well because he'd taken algebra with me twice before he passed. All the other students thought he was gay. In fact, I'd heard his own brother, Tommy, refer to him as "the fag". I had to know if another student had jumped him or if it was something worse.
Dylan came into the lounge and looked around fearfully. He always looked like he expected to be attacked. It looked like someone had punched him in the mouth and maybe in the eye. I pulled out a chair and said, "Sit down, Dylan."
He sat down and stared at the table. I sat down next to him. "Am I the first staff member to ask what happened to your face?"
He nodded. "Whom did you have for your first two periods?"
He whispered, "Mr. Crenshaw and Mrs. Martin."
Damn! I thought. They were two of the worst. Martin was so old that she never really paid attention to anything more than a few feet from her face, and Crenshaw was a sanctimonious homophobe. He probably enjoyed seeing that the fag had been put in his place.
"So, tell me what happened, Dylan."
"I got in a fight, sir," he responded.
"Not good enough, Dylan. Who did it?" I demanded.
He sat there shaking. I could tell he was on the verge of tears, but he wasn't speaking. I asked, "Was it your brother?"
"NO!" he said. "It wasn't Tommy. It was... Do you promise not to tell anyone?"
I shook my head and put a hand on his thin shoulder. "I won't lie to you, Dylan. I may have to report this. It's my job. Do you feel like you can tell me who it was who hit you? I take my obligation to help you very seriously."
He started crying then, openly and loudly. I had to hold him for a minute or so until he stopped. Then I asked again. "If it wasn't Tommy, who was it?"
He whispered, "It was my dad. He was angry and he hit me."
"Did he use his hand?" I asked.
He nodded and said, "He used his fist and then he hit me with a belt."
I asked him for more details. He told me a story about his father thinking he'd been in his office and taken a letter. I told him to let me know if he thought of anything else. Then I walked him to his next class. I called the Department of Child Services to report the incident, but I doubted it would do any good. This state had laws to specifically enshrine a parent's right to use battery to discipline a child. Whatever the state said, I knew my duty as a teacher, as a human being, and as a Christian. Dylan's father was a pastor at one of the Protestant churches in town, but he clearly didn't know the first thing about morality. I'd met him often enough in parent teacher conferences to be painfully aware of that fact.
Dylan
I knew school was going to be hell today, and I was right. No one asked me about the bruising except for Mr. Wilder, and he'd been so compassionate that I broke down and cried in the teacher's lounge. Sitting had been difficult, and my back and butt was itchy. I couldn't get comfortable however I sat. And to top it all off, Kurt said we couldn't hook up at school today. We had to meet Mr. Wilson at his house this evening when his wife would be taking the kids to visit her mother.
Somehow, I made it through the day. I was relieved when I climbed into Mr. Groth's car. Cory didn't own a car of his own, but he drove this one to come pick me up at school. We hadn't even pulled out of the school lot, when he looked over at me and scowled. "Did Craig do that to you?"
He'd hit the nail on the head. He acted as if he knew somehow. I had to ask. "How did you know?"
He snorted and replied, "I know Craig Morgan. What I don't know is why he did it."
I was getting tired of telling the story, but I told it again anyway. Cory seemed a little confused. He said, "I don't get it. He beat you over a letter? A letter you didn't even take? A letter he still had in his possession? It doesn't make sense. I thought maybe he'd discovered that you were gay."
I shrugged and then winced at the pain in my back. "It had something to do with Kieran, and Dad said that I cost him half a million dollars."
Uncle Cory pursed his lips and said, "Let's get you to work. I want to see what's causing you pain."
My back, butt, and legs had been hurting me all day; it was maddening. I couldn't wait to get into Mr. Groth's office. I was going to ask if I could shower before putting my work clothes on. While we were walking through the parking lot, Cory put his hand on my back and then pulled back with a start. "Let me take your backpack, Dylan. I want to get you into the office quickly and quietly. Let's go through the side entrance."
He guided me around the side of the building and in through a side door that led to auto bays. We crossed quickly and then went into the business office through the back door, and then directly into Mr. Groth's office. He was sitting behind the desk when we came, but he looked up when Cory locked the door.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
Cory set my backpack down on a chair and he replied, "I don't know. Cory, take your shirt off."
I pulled off my tee and placed it on the chair. The cool air from the air conditioner didn't make my back feel better. It made it sting. Cory came up behind me and turned me around so Mr. Groth could see. "Look at that, Roger. That's Craig fucking Morgan's handiwork."
Roger rose from his chair. He was even more calm than usual, and yet he seemed to radiate an aura of menace. I knew it wasn't directed at me, but still I felt it. He touched my shoulder and sighed. Then he walked around to look into my face.
"Dylan... Son... have you been walking around with your back oozing blood all day?"
I looked up and said, "I'm sorry, sir."
Mr. Groth shook his head then he pulled me tight against his chest, being careful not to touch my back. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I'll kill that son of bitch," Cory said.
Mr. Groth shook his head. "There is a better way, Cory. Get a blanket on the couch. Get Dylan out of his clothes and put him face down. I'm going to call Phyllis McDonald."
Uncle Cory helped me get my pants off and then my underwear, breathing heavily as he did. Then he had me lay down on the blanket. I asked, "What's wrong? How bad is it?"
He squatted next to me and stroked my temple. "Shh. It's going to be okay. It looks like the welts your dad left on your back rubbed raw while you were sitting in class today and the ones beneath your waistband got the worst of it."
"Who's Phyllis?" I asked.
"She's a lawyer, one of Roger's friends. She'll help."
I could hear Mr. Groth on his phone.
"I know, Phyllis. But this is a big one. I need you and I need Josie."
"Yes, here at the dealership."
"Trust me on this one. We need a thorough examination."
"As soon as possible."
"Good. I'll see you soon."
I looked over at him and said, "Don't I have to go to work?"
Uncle Cory chuckled. "Dylan, you can't put your clothes back on yet, and it would be scandalous for you to go out front naked."
Mr. Groth came over with a can of carbonated water and a straw. He handed it to Cory who held it for me to drink from.
Steven
After classes, I'd had an interesting text chat with Kieran. He'd spoken with some accountants. It sounded like he'd had a trust fund when he came to live with his uncle, who had received $1000 a week after taxes to take care of him. I knew for a fact that the bastard hadn't spent that money on him. Who knew what he'd done with it. And now that Kieran was eighteen, his uncle had tried to get his hands on the remaining money, which was a little more than half a million dollars.
Craig Morgan, so-called man of God. Cheap, hateful, hypocritical, lying, cheating, son of a bitch more like. I texted a summary of what Kieran had told me to Dad. I knew about his secret vendetta against Pastor Morgan. I was just glad that Kieran had gotten ahold of his own money, although that boyfriend of his seemed to come from a very wealthy family.
Damian had left his wallet on my nightstand this morning when he left to go home. I knew that he'd done it on purpose, so he'd have a reason to stop by on the way home. He'd texted me at lunch to let me know he was coming right after school. I jumped in the shower and then changed into some more casual clothes, shorts, and an Indiana Pacers muscle shirt. I wanted to be ready if Damian was in the mood for a little fun.
I'd just finished making lemonade and cleaning up when Damian knocked at the door. I was a little shocked when I saw him. He looked... ordinary. He was dressed in drab clothing and his hair was flat and parted on the side.
He threw himself into my arms almost as soon as I opened the door. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my chest. He was inhaling deeply, like he couldn't get enough of my scent. I was almost sorry that I'd showered.
I kissed his temple and said, "Hey. It looks like you've had a hard day. Do you want to tell me about it?"
He inhaled again and replied, "Yes, but do you mind if I run upstairs and shower? I need to get cleaned up because I need you to pound the gay back into me."
I turned his face upward and kissed him gently. "Go ahead. I'll make some sandwiches and then we can talk."
He kissed me back and said, "I love you, Steven."
I didn't even hesitate this time. "I love you, too, Damian."
As he ran up the stairs, he shouted, "I'm going to raid your closet for something to change into."
He was only four inches shorter than me, so my shirts wouldn't be too long on him, but they would hang loose. I made us some turkey and Havarti sandwiches and grilled them in the panini press. Damian was always hungry after school. He was even more active than me these days. I didn't have a PE class anymore now that I was in college. I was going to have to join the YMCA so I could get some swimming in.
Damian had managed to find the gayest shirt I owned. I'd bought it on a trip to Disney World the family had taken during spring break of my junior year. It was a rainbow tee with the Disney logo on it. I'd forgotten that I had it. It almost fit him. He'd also taken a pair of my shorts. They were long and baggy. He'd tousled his hair so that it was an artful mess atop his head.
"I feel so much better," he said as he sat down to eat his snack.
I joined him. "You look better, too. Do you want to tell me what's happening?"
Damian finished chewing a mouthful. "Good sandwich, by the way." He hesitated a moment and then said, "I got called into Michael's classroom yesterday. He never said a single thing about the way I dressed or did my hair until he'd found out I was gay. Now that he knows, he says I need to be less obvious. I walked around all day like an imposter, like I was wearing a disguise."
I sighed. "If necessary, I'll risk legal trouble and just tell your parents about us. I don't think they'd press charges. I think that the worst they would do would be to yell at me and throw me out of their house."
Damian shook his head. "But it's only six weeks. I can endure it for six weeks, with the proviso that I come over here and you remind me that I am totally fracking gay."
I pointed at his food. "Eat first; then I'll fuck you."
He started shoving food in his mouth, which wasn't usual for him. Normally he chewed his food slowly, his face making it clear that he was really enjoying it. I laughed. "Slow down. I'm going to finish my sandwich before fucking you."
He shoved the last bite in his mouth and downed half his glass of lemonade while he was shaking his head no. Then he smiled and slid down under the table. He crawled between my legs and took hold of the waistband of my shorts. "Enjoy your sandwich, while I enjoy your cock!"
I lifted my hips and let him pull my shorts down. Then I stretched my legs out on either side of him and continued eating. I wouldn't have to eat fast after all. His mouth was warm, wet, and sensual on my cock. I groaned, "Oh fuck! Your mouth feels so fucking amazing. You are a talented little cocksucker, my love."
He mumbled something around my dick. I couldn't understand a word, but it felt good when he did it. I was beginning to understand Dad and Kurt better. Sitting at the table going about the simple task of eating while Damian serviced my cock made me feel strangely empowered. For just a moment, I saw myself in Kurt and Dylan's fantasy, as a Roman slave owner casually going about his daily business while his slave tended to his sexual needs. It was a compelling fantasy.
And Damian became a better cocksucker every day. He worked my cock like a professional, applying just the right amount of suction and using his tongue in all the right places. It felt great from the beginning, but most of that was on the surface where his tongue caressed the most sensitive areas. Just as I was finishing my sandwich, a tingling started deeper in my cock, in my balls, my taint, and the head.
I ran my fingers through his hair and thought about how far he was willing to go to please me. He used to keep his hair almost as short as mine, but now it was long enough that he'd have to wear a cap for swimming. And he'd done it because I said he'd look cuter with longer hair. I wasn't wrong. I was hoping he would continue letting it grow out because it made him look like a surfer boy. He'd been shaving all the parts of his body not covered by his speedo since he joined the team as a freshman, but I'd mentioned that he would look good with the rest shaved bare, and he'd done it. And that too was a bit of a power trip.
Damian ran his hands along my thighs as he sucked with even more intensity. The sensation in and around my cock continued to grow until I grabbed his head and yelled, "Oh yeah! Suck my cock, baby. Suck it hard. Here... it... comes! TAKE IT! TAKE MY LOAD. SWALLOW IT! RIGHT DOWN YOUR THROAT!"
My whole body tensed then released. It was like my cock exploded. I sprayed his mouth and his throat with my spunk, and he swallowed it like it was the nectar of the gods. And he kept sucking as I slowly detumesced. When he climbed out from under the table, I jumped up and hugged him close to my body.
"Do you feel gay again? Because sucking my cock, that's pretty gay," I teased.
He sighed and melted into my arms. "I'm starting to feel it, but I still need you to pound me hard to drive it home, so to speak."
I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder. It was moments like this that made me envy my younger brother. Not only was Kurt stockier and stronger than me, but his boyfriend was barely 120 pounds. Damian was 40 pounds heavier. I carried him into the living room and put him down on the couch. I grabbed the waistband of his shorts and said, "Now I'm going to suck your dick."
He wagged his eyebrows and smiled. "I want you to pound me good, Steve."
I yanked his shorts down, revealing his handsome and hairless dick. "I need a recharge, Damian."
Then I knelt down to kiss his cock. He was hard and leaking, so I ran my tongue up the shaft, getting a good taste of his delicious precum. He moaned and arched his back a little. I licked around the shaft and then across the sensitive head. Then I took it in my mouth and sucked it hard enough for my cheeks to sink in a little. Then I relaxed my mouth and slid another inch inside before sucking it hard again. I continued to take him inch by inch until I'd taken his entire cock into my mouth.
I alternated swallowing him into my throat and pulling back so I could tease the head of his dick. I fondled his hairless balls with my right hand and slipped my left down under his butt so I could rub his smooth hole. He'd taken long enough to get ready that I knew he must have douched his butt before coming downstairs. I slid a finger inside his already lubed hole and probed until I found his pleasure spot.
"Oh yeah, Steve. That's the spot. You always know how to make me feel good," he groaned.
"Mm-hmm." I tried to get out, I love sucking your dick, but it sounded like gibberish. Damian seemed to love the feeling of my throat vibrating on his cock.
"Fu... flipping heck! You're ten times the cocksucker I am!"
I continued to suck him until he was almost ready to cum, then I backed off and kissed him for a few minutes until his urgency faded, just so I could go back and suck him again. Each time I repeated the cycle, it took less time to get him to the edge of orgasm. I managed it six times. His body was drenched in sweat.
He moaned, "Do it, Steve. Make me cum! I need it bad!"
I brushed his sweaty hair aside and kissed him on his sexy lips. "Is that what you want now? I thought you liked being edged like this."
"I do. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I do, but I can't handle it anymore. I need to cum... please?"
"Your wish is my command, sexy stud," I replied.
Then I swallowed his cock again and stuck my finger back in his ass. It was a matter of mere moments until he sprayed his load down my throat.
"OH, FRACK ME SIDEWAYS! SUCK IT, STEVE! SWALLOW MY LOAD!"
I continued to suck him until I'd swallowed the last of his cum. Then I sucked a little longer, until he started to soften. Then I got onto the couch so we could kiss gently for a while.
Dylan
When Phyllis and Josie arrived, Mr. Groth ushered them inside the office. Uncle Cory had placed a sheet gently over my butt to give me some modesty. Josie pulled a chair over to the couch and said, "Hello, Dylan. I'm Doctor Josie Kurtz. It looks like you have some injuries. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
So, I repeated my story again. Josie seemed a little shocked when she found out that I was almost eighteen. "Oh, I am so sorry, Dylan. I've been treating you like you were younger."
I whined a little when I asked, "Is it going to scar? Am I going to look terrible?
She put a hand on my shoulder and said, "No, not if we can get you proper treatment."
"What does that mean?" Cory asked.
Josie looked over at him and said, "He needs bed rest. He needs to stay off his back. He needs the medicines I'm going to prescribe antibiotics, a pain-relieving cream, pain pills for use when the cream isn't helping. And he's going to need someone to wait on him, so he doesn't do anything to irritate the wounds. And most importantly, he needs to be kept away from the animal that did this to him."
Mr. Groth got up and walked over to the couch. He looked at Phyllis and said, "What's the possibility of getting a judge to grant custody of Dylan to his Uncle Cory until he turns eighteen. It's only three months."
Phyllis sighed. "We can try, but you know the laws in this state. If we give him proper treatment so that he won't be scarred, the right judge could rule this beating to be within the bounds of the parental exemption to the anti-battery laws. We'd need one of the parents to agree to be sure we got the result we wanted."
Cory jumped up and said, "Fine! I'm going to visit my sister and have this out now."
Cory
I expected Roger to tell me to wait, that it was a bad idea, that he would handle it. Instead, he gave me a hug and kiss. "Be careful, Cory. Do you need me to go with you?"
I told him no and then I grabbed the keys and drove to my sister's house. I'd driven by a few times, but I'd never been invited, and I'd never stopped and knocked without an invitation. Now I parked in the driveway. I had to stop and take a few breaths before getting out of the car.
I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. Craig's car wasn't there, and Beth had totaled hers a few months back in a drunk driving incident. I knocked again and again until she answered. Damn she looked bad, I thought. Her nose was swollen and bulbous. She had bags under her eyes, and she was unkempt and disheveled like she had been asleep when I knocked, despite it being only 3:00 in the afternoon.
She blinked at me and gasped. "Cory? What are you... why are you here?"
I stared unwaveringly into her face. "We need to talk. It's about Dylan."
She hesitated for a moment. I could see the pain, guilt, and shame on her face. Then she opened the door all the way and said, "Come in, Cory. I think you're right."
The house was a bit of a mess, but that didn't surprise me. Dylan had told me that he was the only one doing any cleaning. She sat on a recliner and gestured toward the sofa. I took a seat and then said, "Did you know that Craig beat Dylan badly last night?"
She shook her head and exhaled heavily. "I was upstairs sick when he did it. I came down as soon as I heard him, but Tommy had already put a stop to it."
She must have been drinking because she was slurring her words. I was angry, but I couldn't help thinking how miserable her life must be for her to be reduced to this state. I hadn't seen her in twelve years except at a distance. I hated her, but I loved her. Before I was thrown out of the house – because her husband got caught kissing and groping me – she'd been the one who'd taken care of me. We'd been close, once.
I rubbed my temples and sighed, "Beth, Craig hurt Dylan bad. He had welts all over his back and his legs. Going to school today rubbed him raw and he's been bleeding all day."
She sat up and her customary scowl came across her face. "Where is he?"
"He's at work, lying face down on a couch while a doctor attends to his wounds. Do you want to come back with me so you can see for yourself?"
She stood up and replied, "Yes! Just let me get dressed."
I waited for her downstairs. I knew it would take her a while. She hadn't even showered yet today. While I was waiting, Tommy came home. He stared at me for a few minutes then he put his backpack down on the dining room table. He walked into the living room and sat down in the recliner his mother had used.
He stared at me and shook his head. "Unbelievable. We've never met, but I feel like I know you already. You look so much like Dylan that I can't get over it, except that you're kind of buff instead of skinny."
"Well, I've heard about you from Dylan. You're Tommy, of course."
He smiled. "And you are my Uncle Cory. Donny told me that you're a fag."
I swallowed hard and replied, "That's not the word I'd use, but yes, I am gay."
Tommy smiled again and then waved his hand like it didn't matter. "I don't care that you're a... that you're gay. Dylan's gay too, but Mom and Dad are too stupid to realize it. It's just another way you two are alike."
We talked for a little while longer. I asked him about his childhood and his school. He was arrogant and had a little sarcastic cruelty in his tone when spoke. And I didn't like the way he was staring at me. I'd seen that stare a lot when I was out with Roger, other men watching me with hungry eyes that said they wanted much more than just to watch. I didn't expect to see that look in my fifteen-year-old nephew's eyes.
When Bethany came back downstairs, she looked better. She'd showered and brushed her hair; and she was dressed in a classic dark blue dress with pleats below the belted waistline. She'd put on a pair of black pumps, and her earrings were silver studs with small blue crystals.
Even Tommy looked surprised to see her dressed nicely. He asked, "Where are you going, Mom?"
She grabbed her purse and said, "Cory is taking me to see Dylan. Apparently, your father hurt Dylan pretty bad last night."
Tommy jumped up and said, "I'll come with you."
Bethany shook her head. "No. I want you to stay here. I have some things I need to clear up with Dylan and I need to do it alone. But I'm proud of you, Tommy. What you did last night to protect your brother, that took courage."
She wrapped Tommy in a hug, but he didn't reciprocate. She'd been so loving with me when I was younger. What had happened to her that her own children were so cool toward her? We walked out and got into Roger's car. We made the trip in silence until we reached the parking lot, but I was getting more upset as time passed by.
When I put the car in park, I asked, "How could you do it, Bethany? How could you let Craig beat Dylan so badly that he's going to need a week to recuperate before he can go back to school?"
She turned on me and yelled, "You have no idea the things I've protected that boy from, Cory! He's my son, and I have had to watch him like a hawk to keep my own... to keep my son safe!"
I knew exactly what she was trying not to say. I couldn't hold it back. I started crying. "You betrayed me, Beth. You knew what he was when you married him, and you knew what he was doing to me, and you stood there and didn't say anything when Dad threw me out of the house."
Her eyes grew moist, but she was made of iron inside. She held back her tears and replied. "I was married to him, and you have no idea how that failed to live up to the promises he made. Elizabeth was twelve. Donny was eight. Dylan was five. And Tommy was two. If I had said something, and Craig and I had split up, what would I have done, Cory? I had no prospects of my own. I had to stand there and watch the whole thing."
We sat there for a minute or so. Then I said, "I loved you, Beth, and you cast me away. You wouldn't let me come over. You wouldn't let me see my nieces and nephews. It was like I didn't even exist anymore. It was like you hated me because your husband couldn't keep his hands off of me."
She sighed. "Hate me if you want, Cory. I wouldn't have left you alone if you hadn't found Roger. I didn't cut you out because I hated you. I pushed you away because Craig wouldn't leave you alone. I did it to keep you safe from him. I'd seen how he bothered his own brother when his wife wasn't around. You were better off with Roger."
I was almost convinced. "But you didn't want me around Dylan when you found out I was talking to him at Roger's house. You made Roger keep me away from him."
She snorted. "Don't be dense, Cory! You're smarter than that. I knew you were with Roger. I made Roger keep you away because there was no way to keep it from Craig that you were seeing Dylan. I tried to talk some sense into him. We argued so loudly that I'm surprised the kids didn't hear us. I needed Craig to promise me that he would leave you alone. He did, but I couldn't believe him. At that time, I had Dylan and Kieran to keep an eye on. I couldn't let Craig get at you again... and besides, I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I'd done, even if I did, and still do, think it was for the best."
I leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss. "I've missed you, Beth."
She patted my arm. "Oh, honey, I've missed you, too."
We got out of the car and went into the dealership. As soon as we got into the office, I saw Bethany the way I remembered her. She looked over and saw Dylan lying under the sheet. Josie had wrapped his wounds in bandages.
She walked up and said, "Tell me the prognosis for my son."
Josie stood up and said, "It's bad, but not too bad. He should make a complete recovery if he gets appropriate care. I've given instructions to Roger, but I can give them to you if you'd rather take him home, I can fill you in."
Bethany shook her head and replied, "No. I have complete faith in my brother to treat him properly."
She looked at Roger and asked, "Can I ask you to keep Dylan at your house for the next week. Bring him with you to church on Sunday."
Roger nodded. "I'm pleased to have him, if that's what you want."
She nodded. "That's what I want. And if y'all don't mind, I want to talk to Dylan alone for a few minutes."
Dylan
Everyone left, leaving me alone with my mother. She came over and stood next to me. She held out her hand and asked, "Can you get up?"
I nodded and tried to keep the sheet wrapped around my waist. I finally stumbled to my feet and confirmed, "Yes, apparently I can."
She turned my face to get a good look. "I'm sorry that I was drunk and didn't stop your father before he hit you."
Then she sighed and choked back a sob. "I am a terrible mother. I know it, but I'm going to try to do better. He won't touch you again, Dylan. If he does, I'll hit him upside the head with a frying pan or something."
"Tommy stopped him," I said.
She didn't seem happy about that either, but she said, "Maybe Tommy will push him down the stairs next time."
Then she smiled and said, "Let me help you get dressed."
She picked up my underwear before I could remember that they were the kind that left my butt exposed. She held them up and put her hand through the hole. She said, "Please tell me that you wear these for Kurt, not Roger."
I grabbed them out of her hands and said, "Mo-om! That's gross! Roger never touched me."
I blushed deep red from head to toe. "I wear them for Kurt... but you already knew that, didn't you?"
She nodded. "I did. So, you're gay. So is your uncle and... I guess your father is too. Maybe it does run in the blood."
I said, "I'm confused, Mom. Are you saying that you don't care that Kurt and I are boyfriends?"
She sighed. "I have to admit that I still think of you as a child, even though you're not. The idea of you having sex bothers me a little because you're so... Well, because you're not as big as Kurt and you look even younger than you are. But I am getting used to the idea."
I walked over and hugged her, stumbling over the towel as I went. She hugged me back and said, "Do you need help getting dressed?"
I wanted to say No, but I couldn't because the truth was that I did. It was painful for me to bend too much, and the doctor had given me some pain pills that were making me dizzy. I nodded and replied, "Yes, please."
She sat me down and knelt to put my legs through the holes in my underwear. She was being understanding, but I didn't want her to see that I'd shaved my body. No matter how accepting she seemed to be now, I didn't think she'd be so tolerant if she knew the truth about our relationship. She'd probably freak out if she found out that I was Kurt's willing slave.
I worked my underwear up my legs while I kept the sheet wrapped around me. Then she helped me into my pants and a shirt. Just before calling everyone back inside, she said, "You two are still minors. Don't do anything obvious until January 18th."
I promised her that we wouldn't.
Kurt
Dad texted and told me to come pick up Dylan from the dealership. We'd scheduled a short day for Dylan at work anyway. He'd worked too many hours over the Labor Day weekend, so he deserved some comp time. We couldn't tell anyone that he needed that time because we had to meet Mr. Wilson, the audio-video tech from church. He had a recording of us having sex in the church and, if he didn't get to have sex with Dylan and me, he was threatening to show the video to anyone and everyone.
I was surprised that so many people were in Dad's office: him, Cory, Dr. Josie, Dad's friend Phyllis, Dylan, and Dylan's mother. That was a surprise. She and her brother Cory were never in the same room together. Everyone looked serious, so I had to ask, "What's going on?"
Dad said, "You're going to take Dylan home. His mother says he can stay with us for the next week while he recovers from his wounds."
Dr. Josie brought me a large Ziplock bag filled with rolls of medical gauze, antibiotic ointment, gauze pads, and other first aid materials. "You shouldn't need to change his bandages before Cory gets home tonight. He'll be taking time off work to take care of him until he can heal. He has more complete instructions so you can ask him for the details."
I put my arm around Dylan's shoulders, and he winced a little. I couldn't stop myself. I blurted out, "What the hell happened?"
Dylan gritted his teeth. "It was Dad. I told you that he hit me with a belt."
I pulled his collar aside so I could look down his shirt. I saw that he had gauze across his back. A quick glance at the front showed me that the gauze wrapped around his chest like a mummy. I lifted Dylan's chin and looked into his teary eyes. "Why didn't you say it was so bad this morning? I would have taken you to urgent care... or at least I would have called Dad and asked him what to do."
Dylan broke down and started crying. "I didn't want to bother anyone, and I didn't know it was this bad... and I didn't want Tommy to know because he already beat Dad up for it and I was afraid of what he would do."
I held his head to my chest, carefully avoiding the bandages on his back. "Shh. Don't worry about any of that. If you need something, it will never bother me." He placed his lips next to my ear and whispered, "meae deliciae." That sent a thrill down my spine. Our school didn't offer Latin, but Kurt had researched online and found that deliciae was a word ancient Romans used to refer to their favorite slave, the ones they used for sex.
Mrs. Morgan put her hand on Dylan's shoulder and said, "Don't worry about your dad and Tommy. I'm going to deal with it somehow."
Dylan said, "I don't care what happens to Dad, but I don't want Tommy to get into trouble."
Mrs. Morgan scowled, and it was like a darkness spread across her face. "Don't worry about Tommy either. I'm done sitting back and letting Craig have his way. I'll make sure that it's not Tommy who gets in trouble over any of this. You go home with Kurt. I want you to obey your uncle, since I'm leaving you in his charge. But I want you to obey Mr. Groth as well."
She saw me leaning against Kurt, and she saw Kurt's arm around me. She added, "And I guess I should tell you to obey Kurt as well, since it looks like that's the direction the wind is blowing."
She kissed his cheek and then she looked at me. "Take care of my boy, Kurt. I'm trusting you, but God help you if you ever do anything to hurt him."
I shook my head. "I won't ma'am. I'll take care of him, now and forever."
Then she surprised everyone by giving me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She turned to Cory and said, "I'm going to need a ride home."
Cory stood up straight and nodded. Dr. Josie handed him a prescription. "Pick this up on your way back home. Follow the directions please. The antibiotic is to ward off opportunistic infections. And the pain reliever is only if he needs it. The pharmacist will give you more detailed directions."
I grabbed Dylan's backpack and then led him out of the office. I didn't care if everyone saw me with my arm around him. I had to find some way to let everyone know that he was mine and that I would protect him from anyone.
I drove Kurt home and Cory drove his sister. It looked like the two of them were talking again. I used to hate her, but seeing her with Dylan today, and seeing the happy look on Cory's face when he looked at her, I started to feel sorry for her. If Dylan was as messed up as he was from being Pastor Morgan's son, how bad must it have been as his wife?
Dylan turned to look at me. The look on his face said that it was painful for him to lean back against the seat. He said, "Master, what are we going to do about going to Mr. Wilson's house tonight. There's no way your dad is going to let me go out like this."
I exhaled roughly then replied, "I'll figure it out, slaveboy. From now on, I don't want you worrying about anything. As your master, it's my job to do the worrying."
Dylan smiled at me. "I want that more than anything, Master, but don't you think it will make things obvious to everyone?"
I put one hand on his knee. "I don't know Dylan. People are pretty stupid, but I think things are going to change for us soon. Your mom knows now, and she seems to accept the fact that you're gay. And everyone at school seems to already think that you are."
He put his hand on top of mine. "But they don't suspect you're gay, Master." He hesitated for a moment before hastily adding, "Or, bisexual, Master. Sorry."
"It doesn't matter to me what they think. And I want them to know that you're mine; I just don't want to make an announcement. I want to let them figure it out without us trying to hide it."
We drove back to the house, and I mixed up a smoothie for Dylan because I suspected he hadn't eaten all day. My suspicions were confirmed when he gave me a sheepish look and then drank it. I didn't leave him alone until he finished. The pain pills were making him tired, so I helped him upstairs so he could lie down on his stomach. I sat with him until he fell asleep and then I went downstairs. Steven had come home so I filled him in on what had happened. We spent some time commiserating about how much we hated Pastor Morgan.
I texted Mr. Wilson to let him know that Dylan and I could not keep our appointment with him.
Wilson: Sorry to hear that. I'll send the file to the pastor then.
Me: It's an emergency. Dylan is hurt and can't make it.
Wilson: Then you come by yourself.
I was seriously angry. He was being completely unreasonable.
Me: I have to watch him until someone gets here.
Wilson: Come as soon as someone gets there.
Me: Okay.
Wilson: Be prepared to take his place. Someone needs to do that job for me tonight. If not him, then it will be you.
Me: Fine. I'll be there.
Great! I thought. I was going to have to let that man fuck me. And I'd never been fucked before. I didn't really want to get fucked at all, but if I didn't Mr. Wilson would share that video. My dad would be furious. He wouldn't hit me. He probably wouldn't even ground me. But his disappointment was almost unbearable, and he would stop treating me like an adult. I could imagine what he'd say, I'm disappointed in you, Kurt. I thought you were too mature to pull stunts like this, but I was wrong. You've not only embarrassed me, but you've ruined your reputation with everyone in this church. That's something you can't repair easily. And think about what you've done to Dylan!
Thinking about what Pastor Morgan would do to Dylan sent cold chills down my spine. Come to think of it, Cory thought of Dylan like his own son, and that explained why Dad had always treated him like one of his own. If there was anything that could make Dad forget his moral opposition to corporal punishment, this could be it. He'd blame me, not Dylan. He'd told me that Dylan was irresponsible and that it was my job to keep him out of trouble. Not only had I failed to do that, but the video made it clear that I was the one who told him to get naked and masturbate on the altar.
Damn! This whole situation really was my fault. I had to fix it somehow – no matter what it cost 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.
● Brian Wilder. Damian's 23-year-old straight brother. He's a mechanic in the Groth Automotive Service Department. He accepts his younger brother's gayness and knows about Roger and Cory.
● 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 middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 120 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, six years her senior and the manager at the Farm and Feed store.
● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He is of 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 muscles, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. He has a brother three years younger than him named Jonah.
● Josephine "Josie" Kurtz. A doctor who's in a relationship with Phyllis MacDonald.
● 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 feet tall and weighs 175 pounds. He is 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.
● Michael Wilder. 26-year-old brother of Damian. He is a teacher at the same high school Damian, Kurt and Dylan attend. He's straight and married, and he accepts his brother's gayness.
● Phyllis MacDonald. A lawyer and friend of Roger Groth. She handles a lot of civil rights cases, including LGBTQIA+ cases. She's in a relationship with Josie Kurtz.
● 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.