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
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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
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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)
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Wishcraft (Concluded)
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Alchemy and Songcraft
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Magery
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Elf Master
●
The Pack
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Tales of Severan
Other Stories
Small Town Slave Boys 16
Author's Note: There is some unfortunate language from a racist
closet-case in this chapter. The man is clearly a villain
and he will get what's coming to him.
Cory
"Take it, you sexy little bitch!" Roger demanded as he thrust his big cock inside me all the way to the root. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that cum shoots out your mouth!"
"Do it, Master! Drill my ass harder. Make me scream!" I cried.
Roger always knew when I needed a soft, gentle fuck and when I needed my ass pounded hard. This morning I needed it hard. I was still angry over what Craig had done to Dylan and I was trying to use the pain to get past my feelings.
Roger could read me like a book. He grabbed the rings in my nipples and twisted them while he pistoned my ass harder than before. Then he let go and slapped me in the face hard enough to make my teeth ache. "Stop daydreaming and pay attention to me, Bitch!"
"YES, MASTER!" I cried. "SORRY, MASTER!"
He smacked my ass, and the sound of the impact rang around the room. It excited me that I was going to have a red mark for the rest of the day. Roger's voice was gruff, but he was smiling at me. "Damn right! You should be sorry, disrespecting me like that. When my cock is your ass, you keep your mind on that and only that!"
When Roger fucked me this fast and this hard, he wasn't able to hit my prostate with every stroke. I could tell he was getting close. I was leaking precum all over my abdomen, but I knew from experience that I wasn't close enough to cum. I was different from most other men in that I didn't really care about ejaculating. Don't get me wrong; I loved to cum. It was just that I derived a different kind of satisfaction from a painful fuck. If Roger brought me off afterwards, it would be great, but if he left me horny and unsatisfied, that too was a thrill for me.
Roger flipped me over onto my stomach and pulled my hips up. He rammed his cock back inside me and started rabbit fucking me while he pressed my chest into the mattress. The force of his thrusts was knocking the breath out of my lungs.
He gasped, "Going to... fuck you... like... a... bitch. Going to... pound... you... into... the bed. Going to... break... your... slave... cunt!"
I was breathing hard too, but I had the energy to milk his cock with my ass. Contracting and relaxing my ass rhythmically was like masturbating. Now my orgasm was closer.
"Do it master! Ruin my ass!" I begged.
Roger's hand moved beneath me and felt my throbbing dick. He grabbed my balls and squeezed them. Most men would have screamed and lost their erection, but my nuts could take a lot more force than he was using. Instead, the pressure sent me over the edge. I'd been expecting to be left in a state of delirious sexual frustration all day, but Roger still managed to surprise me, even after twelve years. I wasn't going to complain about an orgasm, however, especially one this intense.
"YOU'RE SQUEEZING MY LOAD RIGHT OUT OF MY NUTS, MASTER! I'M CUMMING... OH FUCK! CAN I CUM, MASTER? PLEASE LET ME CUM!"
Roger yanked harder on my nuts and sank his cock all the way inside me. He barely managed to grunt, "Do it, sexy slave stud! Cum while I shoot my load inside you."
I felt the tension in my body release as my spunk shot out all over the sheet below me. Roger bit down on my neck and sucked hard. He was leaving his mark somewhere visible this time. Usually, he expelled a stream of profanities and derogations, which only added to my pleasure. This time he couldn't say anything because he was leaving a line of hickeys on my neck, but I could feel him tense and release. I could feel his cock swell in my ass and then spray his load inside me.
Kurt
Dad wasn't hiding anything about his relationship anymore. Dylan and I could hear him and Cory in their room. From the sound of it, they were enjoying an extremely vigorous fuck. Dylan looked at me with sad eyes. "I wish that was us."
I kissed his lips and brushed his hair back out of his eyes. It was getting pretty long, and I thought it was very sexy. His uncle Cory kept his hair short, but there was something androgynous about Dylan. Steven had designed an exercise program for him that included mostly yoga and stretching, with some calisthenics. He was beginning to get some tone in his muscles, but he was never going to be muscular like his uncle. I liked the way the longer hair made him seem more effeminate.
I nibbled his earlobe and said, "Me too, Slave Boy, but the doctor said nothing rough."
He whined, "She said that I couldn't lie on my back, but she didn't say you couldn't fuck me, Master."
I hadn't fucked him in two days. He couldn't even take a shower, so I was giving him a sponge bath every night. I couldn't risk him making a mess on his bandages. I sighed. "I can't, Dylan. Even with a condom, I could get poop on your bandages if I wasn't careful and I'm afraid of your wounds becoming infected. I could use my hand since we're limited..."
Dylan was shaking his head. "Please, Master. I'd rather just wait. Everything I've read on the internet says that slaves should only cum when fucked by their master. Could I just suck your cock for you before breakfast?"
I pulled the sheet off and exposed my rampant erection. "Go ahead, Slave Boy. Suck your master's cock."
Dylan had been sleeping on his stomach, as the doctor had ordered. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and moved down so that his mouth was level with my groin. He was breathing heavily, and I could feel his breath on my cock, making it swell even more than it was. He extended his tongue and licked the shaft from my balls to the head. The look on his face when he pulled back my foreskin and kissed the slimy head was one of utter adoration.
I've said it before, but Dylan's devotion to me was so intense that sometimes it scared me. Sometimes it made me want to run away. It was too much responsibility. But it would crush Dylan, and if he ever recovered, he'd fall victim to whatever creep took him in. Maybe he'd be different with some maturity, but the way he was now, he needed me to take care of him and to keep him safe from abuse.
Dylan was trying to swallow my cock, but it was too much for him. He could barely open his mouth wide enough to take the shaft inside and he couldn't fit more than the head inside his throat, leaving half my cock outside his mouth. He was skillful with his hands, stroking it and playing with my full balls. I'd been dreaming about him. I'd been dreaming about my dick in his tight ass. That's why I was already so close to orgasm. And Dylan's mouth felt so good on my cock. His soft lips and warm mouth were teasing the head, sending sensations of pure pleasure throughout my body. I lay back and let them wash over me.
I didn't even have to look to know that Dylan wasn't rubbing his dick. He was more devoted to the whole slave thing than I was. Do not get me wrong. It was a fantasy of mine, and it made me feel like the luckiest man ever in the world to have such a pretty guy willing to give me total control. I loved keeping him naked and horny. I loved spanking his firm round butt. I loved having him drop to his knees and kiss my feet. But I was also practical enough to understand that sometimes things happen, and the rules needed to adjust to accommodate them. I would have stroked Dylan's cute little cocklet for him, but he was the kind of guy who would rather remain horny than break the rules. How could that not make me feel like the king of the world?
I ran my fingers through his hair. It was getting shaggy, so he needed it trimmed or styled. I was debating what would make him look prettier. Maybe a loose perm so that his blond hair would hang in curls. Once he turned eighteen, I would get his ears pierced and he could wear earrings all the time. His nipples too. Cory was so sexy with his nipples pierced, and there was no reason uncle and nephew couldn't match in that way.
I moaned, "Keep that up, Dylan. I'm about to cum. Do you want to taste it, or do you want me to shoot it down your throat?"
"Mwanna dasd id," he mumbled around my cock.
"I'm going to let you do it your way, Slaveboy. Just... um... just... get ready... because... here... Oh. My Godddd! YES! SUCK IT, SLAVEBOY. HERE... IT... CUMS!!!!"
Dylan pulled back and held my cock tightly in one hand while the other held my balls in a firm, but not painful, grip. My body tensed. My cock filled with cum. My nuts drew up closer to my body. And then I shot a massive load into his mouth. And then I shot again, and again, and again. He swallowed as fast as he could, but a few drops had escaped and were running down his chin.
His little dick was still red, hard, and throbbing when he climbed up next to me and wrapped his arms around my chest. It was poking into my thigh. I kissed his cum-flavored lips and pulled him as tight as I dared without hurting the wounds on his back.
When it was time, Dylan jumped up and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, then he returned to carefully wipe my cock and balls clean. He helped me dress. I had football practice today after school, so Dylan started to pack me a change of clothes. I jumped up and took over. "No. I'll do that Dylan. You get one of your pretty thongs on and you can choose one of my tee shirts."
He was confused because he always packed my stuff when he was here. But I couldn't let him see the anal douche in my gym bag. I'd received a text from Mr. Williams. He'd been circumspect so as not to incriminate himself, but reading between the lines I could tell what he was saying. If Dylan couldn't come over tonight to suck his dick and get fucked, then I would have to do it. I was pissed. All I wanted to do was to beat his smug face in, and I would have in an instant – to hell with the consequences. I'd survive it. But after what I'd seen this week, I couldn't risk Pastor Morgan finding out. I honestly feared he would kill him.
I'd never been fucked. I didn't even like a finger up my ass. I'd tried my own, and Alicia had stuck hers up there once. As for sucking cock, I'd been thinking lately that I might want to put Dylan's in my mouth if he'd let me. (Strange thought that, since he was supposed to be the slave in this relationship!) But Dylan's cock was small, the smallest I'd ever seen, and it was completely hairless. I thought it was cute, but Mr. William's ugly, hairy, smelly cock made me want to vomit. But somehow, I was going to have to do it. And I was going to have to let him fuck me. Hell, I had no choice. I had to let him do anything he wanted with me unless I wanted Mr. Williams to out us. I could probably survive it unscathed. My father wouldn't care about the gay sex, although he'd be royally pissed about Dylan and I defiling the altar. And of course, he'd blame me, rightfully so since Dylan always did what I told him to do. It was Dylan who was in danger from his father if all this came out. And I couldn't let that happen.
Dylan had finished getting dressed. He'd chosen one of my sports tees that came down about four inches lower than his butt. He'd be covered unless he stretched or bent over. I should have made him wear a pair of shorts, but he liked walking around in what amounted to a mini dress, and he was wounded. As strict as he was, there was no chance that Dad would have me punish him right now. And Dylan was kind of taking advantage of it. But who could blame him, given his upbringing?
I wrapped an arm around his shoulders as we walked downstairs. Steven raised an eyebrow when we walked down and shook his head. "Now that's a look!"
I snorted. "You're just jealous because Damian's not here to strut around half naked."
He shrugged. "Yeah. Damian would probably get into it if he saw these two."
He gestured into the kitchen where Cory was preparing breakfast wearing nothing but booty shorts and an apron. Dylan ran in to help him. When Cory and Dylan weren't here, I usually just grabbed something fast like cereal, but Cory was getting egg sandwiches with cheese, sliced fruit, and coffee ready.
I looked over at Steven and said, "We're going to get so spoiled if Cory moves back into the house."
He nodded and added, "And with Dylan right there helping him. If Damian were to move in, I know he'd insist on doing his part too."
"Does this make us lazy entitled `gentlemen' just sitting here expecting our `boys' to wait on us hand and foot?" I asked.
Dad came down the stairs and said, "Not at all. It makes us very lucky men who have lovers who enjoy serving us. Remember what a mess I was when your mom died? I had no idea or appreciation of all the things she did for us. I remember that I was feeding you guys a lot of cereal and junk food, and the place was a mess."
Dad rarely talked like this, even twelve years later. "Yeah, when you started seeing Cory, he started cleaning and cooking and... well, we never blamed you, but we were really relieved. Even if we did think it strange that our dad was having sleepovers with a friend. Some of our friends told us that it was weird. Their dads never had sleepovers. That was a kid's thing."
I couldn't help but laugh. "I was eleven when Billy Daniels told me that you two were... his words not mine... fucking faggots."
Dad sat down and sighed. "Sorry about that. I tried to shield you boys from that kind of trouble at school, even though it meant keeping Cory at more of a distance than I wanted. When you were eleven and, Steven, you were twelve, I wanted to marry Cory, to give him some official status. I was still debating the possible ramifications for my business in this lovely little backwards town when Cory's sister threw a fit over me allowing Cory to see Dylan, so I had to push him even further away. Well, that's almost over."
I perked up at that news. "Does that mean that you two are going to get married?"
Steven sighed. "Haven't you figured it out? He's just waiting for Dylan to turn eighteen so his parents can't force him to stay away from our house. Don't let all the `master' and `sir' stuff fool you."
He turned to Dad and said, "Unlike my naïve little brother, I figured it out on my own. It was sometime those first few years. I was nine or ten, but I already knew that I was different from the other boys. I remember one day when I was about to go upstairs to bed and you two were in the kitchen. I saw you standing in the kitchen, your arms around Cory from behind and you were kissing his neck."
"Hmm. I thought I was more careful than that," Dad said.
Steven shook his head. "Nope. You could keep things from Kurt because he ran through the house yelling and stomping. I was a lot quieter than he was. But don't worry about it. That was the exact moment that I knew how I was different from the other boys. Suddenly everything made sense to me, and I understood that I liked girls just fine, but it was other boys who made my heart beat a little faster and my palms break out in a sweat."
Dad sighed. "I'm glad you didn't say anything at the time."
He swallowed and then exhaled slowly. "Confession time. I didn't understand things back then the way I do now. I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't had feelings for boys back when I was in school. I didn't understand what they were until later, but I'd always denied that they were romantic or sexual. I liked women too, so when I fell in love with your mother, it was the perfect solution. I didn't have to think about it deeply, but..."
He was getting choked up, so I interrupted him. "It's okay, Dad. You don't have to share anything if it's going to bring up bad memories."
Steven put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Let him talk, Kurt. I think he needs to tell us something."
Dad nodded and then said, "The shame I have to confess is that I was ashamed of being gay. I was totally, one hundred percent in love with Cory, as deeply in love with him as I had been with your mother, but I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want you boys to be ashamed of me."
Steven whispered, "Does Cory know?"
"Yes, son, he does. We had this discussion years ago. Trust me, his internalized homophobia was so deep that he didn't even know how it was affecting his behavior. It was the key issue behind his low self-esteem and his need to be punished."
"How did you deal with it?" I asked. I needed to know. I was sure that Dylan had similar issues. How could he not, given who his father was?
"Counseling son. Lots of counseling. We visited a gay counselor friend of Josie. He helped us to deal with our issues."
I shook my head. "I can't believe you were homophobic dad. You've always been so tolerant of everyone."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and said, "Believe it son. It was the way I was raised."
Memories of Dad's family flashed into my mind. We hardly ever saw them. Grandpa George and Grandma Gladys were really unpleasant people. I'd never forgive them for referring to my mother as Dad's "nigger bride". They didn't know I'd overheard them. If that's what they thought of her, what did they really think of Steven and me? We were black. My skin was as black as mom's. And they were whiny and greedy. All they ever did was ask Dad for money. They never came around unless they wanted something.
"It's all right, Dad," I said.
And Steven gave a weak smile. "We've met your parents, Dad. If anyone should be ashamed, it's them."
We all laughed a little at that, then Dad stood up and said, "Come over here boys. You're not too old to hug your old man."
"Never," we agreed, as we embraced him in a triple hug.
I was his size now, maybe a little taller, and Steven towered over both of us. My nose was burning, and my eyes were threatening to tear up as I realized that I was basically a man at seventeen and my relationship with my dad was changing, not for the worse, but becoming something different.
We were still hugging when Dylan came into the room and announced, "Breakfast is ready, Sirs!"
We sat at the dining room table, while Cory and Dylan served us our breakfast. Egg sandwiches with sharp cheddar cheese on grilled multigrain bread with fresh sliced tomatoes. Each of our plates came with a cup of orange and grapefruit wedges. They'd also made strong coffee. They didn't eat with us; they stood back and made sure we had everything we needed.
Afterward, Steven, Dad, and I had to leave for school or work. Cory was taking the week off to look after Dylan, who was completing his schoolwork online until he healed. When I was behind the wheel of my car getting ready to pull out of the lane, I got the text I'd been waiting for. Just like always, Greg had my back. I had to stop and take a few breaths before I continued. Suddenly the day seemed a little brighter.
Tommy
"Get your lazy ass up!" Donny yelled from the kitchen.
I sat up and kicked the sheet off my body. I was wearing sweatpants and a tee shirt, and my dick was painfully hard. For the last two days, I hadn't had Dylan around to suck my dick and I was stubbornly refusing to beat off. I was saving my ball juice for him.
I'd been sleeping on Donny's couch since Dad had come home on Tuesday. After she had returned from seeing Dylan, Mom had described his wounds to me. We were sitting in the living room when he came in and Mom called out, "Come in here, Craig. I need to speak with you."
I'd never heard her be so forceful with him. I sat upright to listen.
"What do you want now, Beth? I have things to do."
She didn't get up. She sat back in her chair and said, "I thought you'd like to know that Dylan is under a doctor's treatment because of the beating you gave him."
"It wasn't that bad. I had worse in my day. He'll be fine," he said dismissively.
He turned and started to walk away, but Mom said, "I'm not finished talking to you, Craig. Turn around and face me."
Dad's face was red when he spun
around. "Don't you talk to me like that! I am the head of this house. For the husband is head of the wife, as also Christ is
head of the church."
Mom's voice was calm and even. "Shut up,
Craig. You need to hear what I have to say. If you strike one of my children
like that again, I will make you sorry that you were ever born."
"Don't threaten me, woman!" he said. Then
he looked around. "Where is Dylan?"
Mom smiled. "My brother is taking care of
him until he's able to return to school. That's right, Craig. He's not allowed
to go back to school until next week. That's how badly you hurt him,"
Dad yelled, "Great. Now Paul knows our
business. You turn everything around you into shit. Did you know that, Beth?"
She lost her decorum. She stood up and
raised her voice. "Don't worry. There's nothing you can do that would make Paul
have any less respect for you than he already does. He knows what you are. But Dylan isn't with Paul. He's with Cory."
Dad's face grew even redder. "I will not have Cory around our kids. He's
an unrepentant faggot and he'll corrupt them. We've had this discussion before.
You agreed..."
Mom started yelling, "I agreed to shut you up, and to keep you away from my baby brother, you sick hypocrite. I'm changing the rules. Cory is welcome to see Dylan... Tommy too. And if you say one thing about it or try to interfere in any way, I will tell a not very pretty tale to everyone, starting with the Ladies Auxiliary at the church! Don't fuck with me on this one, Craig!"
Dad threw his hands up in the air and said, "Fine. Dylan's a little faggot too, just like his uncle. I should have beaten him harder until I drove it out of him!"
And that was when I jumped off the couch and tackled dad. He fought back more effectively this time. He split my lip, but I think I broke his nose. I heard a crunch, and he started yelling. When he let go of me, I jumped up and started kicking him. He grabbed my leg and pulled me down onto the floor with a crash. He was choking me, and I was digging my thumbnails into his wrists.
Mom picked up a lamp and broke it on Dad's head. "ENOUGH! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!"
Dad and I were both startled by that outburst. We stopped fighting and dragged ourselves to our feet. Mom looked at me and said, "Go pack enough clothes for a week. You'll be staying with Donny until the two of you cool down."
She sighed and pointed toward Dad's home office. "Go sit in your office and calm down. Don't come out until Tommy has gone."
**********
I was lost in thought, rubbing the cuts on my knuckles. It looked like I'd been punching a wall, but I'd actually drawn blood while fighting with Dad. It was more painful than most people imagined to punch someone in the face.
Donny tossed me a pepperoni hot pocket wrapped in a paper towel. "Don't get cocky just because you punched the old man. You weren't the first."
I unwrapped the hot pocket and juggled it between my hands. It was still burning hot. "Maybe, but I was the one who got Mom to stand up to him."
Donny shook his head. "Fucking bitch just ignored him while he was beating on me, but as soon as he laid a finger on precious little Dylan she crawls out of her bottle and says something."
I shrugged. "You were capable of taking care of yourself. Dylan isn't."
Donny gave me a long stare. "Why did you decide to protect Dylan anyway? You weren't clear on the details."
"I just lost control when Dad started beating on him. Dylan curled up into a ball and didn't even try to fight back, and Dad kept beating him anyway."
"Bullshit!" Donny said. "There has to be more to it than that. Tell me the truth."
I hesitated. If I told him that it was none of his business, he'd never let it go. I was trying to think of anything I could say that would satisfy his curiosity, but nothing came to mind. I decided to go with the truth.
"Dylan is my bitch. He sucks my dick whenever I need it. And I fuck his tight ass at least once a day."
Donny gave me a high five. "Damn, Bro! Just fifteen years old and already a man."
I asked, "So you don't think I'm gay because I'm fucking Dylan?"
Donny shook his head. "Nah, Bro. You could be gay. You could be bi, like me. Oh yeah. You look surprised, but I've got a few fags who take care of my needs. Usually, they're less trouble than chicks and you don't have to worry about them getting pregnant."
I was a little confused. "What do you mean that I could be `gay' but not a `fag'?"
Donny settled back into the recliner and said, "You can be a gay man, or a bisexual man, or a straight man. But that doesn't mean that you're a `fag'. A fag is a guy... well, I personally do not think of them as guys... a fag is someone who was put on this earth to serve men like us. People like Dylan. They'll happily suck any cock that's given to them. They get whiny like girls do, but they're not girls. You can just slap them around until they do what you tell them. And no matter how much they get slapped around, they get hard when they suck your dick. That's how you can tell that they really like it."
That was me and Dylan. I had to slap him around to make him do what he was told, but only the first time. After that he'd been happy to suck my dick. Donny had given me the idea in the first place, but I thought he'd been joking until I proved it to myself. Still, the last thing I suspected was that Donny was making use of fags.
I took a bite from my hot pocket, chewed it slowly so I had time to think, and then asked, "Do I get to meet any of these fags of yours because I haven't dropped a load since Dylan went to stay with Cory."
Donny sighed and ran his hand across the front of his sweatpants. "Have you seen our uncle Cory?"
I shook my head. "No. Why?"
He sighed. "Imagine Dylan, but instead of being skinny he's got muscle. He still has the same face, just a little older. Could you imagine having both of them here, on all fours on that carpet? The two of us fucking them until they shot their fag loads on the floor?"
I was trying to picture a muscular Dylan. To tell the truth, I didn't really see the appeal. Since the first time I fucked Dylan, I'd been noticing other guys at school. The big muscle boys didn't really do it for me, but there were a few guys like Dylan, short, skinny, and kind of girly. That's what I liked. I laughed inwardly. If Donny liked the muscle boys, did that make him gayer than me?
I finished chewing the last of my hot pocket. "You didn't answer my question, Donny. Do I get to meet any of these fags of yours?"
He gave it some thought and then replied, "This weekend. You'll still be here. I'll get one of them to come by and clean the place. We can fuck him when he's done, but only if you remember to call me `Don'. I'm not a kid anymore."
"Sure thing, Don."
**********
Donny dropped me off at school and went to work. I paid special attention to the boys today. By lunchtime, I'd found what I was looking for. There was a boy named Patrick O'Rourke who'd been in class with me since elementary school. He was part of a group of smart nerdy kids who hung around together and played card games at lunch. This year, he and I shared a lunch period and all his friends had lunch the other period. He usually ate alone.
Patrick was Dylan's size, a few inches shorter than me. He was one of those September births, so he was almost a year younger than the rest of us. He'd be turning fifteen at the end of the week, but I'd be turning sixteen in October. He had dark chestnut hair that hung loose to his collar, and his eyes were dark green. He probably didn't weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds, giving him that scrawny body type that made me chub.
I sat down next to him at the table in the lunchroom. "Hey, Patrick, how are you doing today?"
He seemed startled by my presence. "Um... okay, I guess. How are you doing today?"
I pressed my leg against his and scooted right next to him. I'd been right. He'd positioned himself so that he had a clear line of sight to the table where the football team was seated. His view of Greg Miller and Kurt Groth was unimpeded. That's why Patrick had been so distracted when I walked over.
I ignored Patrick's canned response and asked, "Do you like what you see?"
He sat up straight and stared at me with a fearful look on his face. "W... w... what do you mean?"
I didn't waste any time. I reached over and pinched the erection that tented his jeans. "You're hard from watching the football team eat their lunch. You must be a very horny boy."
He put his hand down and tried to pull mine off his cock, but he wasn't strong enough. He whispered, "I'm not. I just..."
I squeezed his erection tighter and said, "Don't lie to me, Patrick. I've known you were gay since fourth grade. Don't try to deny it."
Damn! Tears were springing to his eyes. "What do you want? Please don't tell anyone."
I whispered, "Shh. Everyone here already knows."
He shook his head. "They suspect, Tommy. They don't know."
"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me, so long as you do what you're told," I promised.
His shoulders slumped. "What do I have to do?"
I took his right hand and put it on my crotch so that his small hand was pressing against my hardon. "For now, just rub my dick for me. After I eat, we're going to go somewhere more private."
It looked like I wasn't going to have to slap Patrick around at all to get him to fall in line. I wondered if someone else had already taught him his place. He was looking around nervously but didn't stop rubbing my dick through my jeans. I took my time eating. The food was terrible, but Patrick's hand felt good on my cock. When we were through, I made him take both our trays up to the window to turn them in. I was going to make him my bitch here at school the same way that Dylan was my bitch at home.
A sudden image of Dylan bussing Kurt Groth's tray, Dylan running to fetch a bottle of cold water from the vending machine, and Dylan sitting glued to Kurt's side here in the cafeteria and in the pews at church burst into my mind. Fuck me! Kurt Groth was Dylan's secret boyfriend. He was the one Dylan was shaving his clit and pussy for. I'd overlooked what was staring me in the face because Kurt and Dylan had been best friends for so long.
And my parents had let him stay over at the Groth household, all these years, for weeks at a time. How long has Kurt been fucking my brother? How long has he been fucking my bitch? I was Dylan's brother. His ass rightfully belonged to me. I just didn't know what I was going to do about it.
I led Patrick to the third-floor bathroom on the far side of the building. It was usually empty during the day because the corridor contained the Exceptional Student Services office and classrooms. There weren't a lot of students there. I pulled Patrick into the far stall and locked the door. He'd grown so pale that his skin looked like Dylan's.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.
"Turn around and take your clothes off. I want to see your butt while you're stripping, not your penis," I commanded.
He was an obedient boy. While he was doing what he was told, I took out my phone and set it to record audio before putting it back in my hoodie pocket. I planned to record our conversation here and edit it later. Aside from a few pimples on his back, Patrick was looking fine. He was thin but not so scrawny you could see his bones sticking out. His butt was a little less round than Dylan's, but it was still sexy. (Dylan had a bubble butt like a girl. It was the only fleshy part of his body.)
When Patrick bent over, I noticed that he had only a few sparse hairs around his hole. I could pluck them out with my fingers in just a few minutes, and I would later if I had to. Now, I didn't have time to mess with his butt pussy. When he was done, I took his clothes and put them in the corner between the toilet and the walls.
"Turn around and kneel in front of me, Patrick."
He was crying a little, but his cock was hard and leaking. I reached out and ran my hands slowly across the shaft, making his legs shake a little. "Tell me that you want to suck my cock."
He sniffled and then said, "I want to suck your dick, Tommy."
I patted his cheek. "Tell me again, and this time make me believe it. And call me Sir."
I still had one hand on Patrick's little dick. I was so fucking happy that his cock was tiny, maybe even smaller than Dylan's. It was like this boy was made for me, and I hadn't even noticed him until Dylan had opened my eyes to what I was missing. When I had told him to call me Sir his little cock had jumped in my hand.
Patrick cleared his throat and spoke clearly. "Please, Sir, let me suck your cock. I want to put it in my mouth and suck it until you cum."
I motioned with my hand for him to say more. I wanted to see where he went with it. And he did not disappoint me. "I want to swallow your cum, Sir. I want to see what your man seed tastes like."
I wanted more confessions for my recording. I asked, "Will this be the first cock you've ever sucked, boy?"
I was surprised when he shook his head. "No, Sir. I've sucked... I can't say whose I've sucked, Sir, but it won't be my first."
"So, you're a cocksucker," I stated for the recording.
He nodded and replied. "Yes, Sir. I'm a cocksucker. I like sucking cock."
"How long have you been a cocksucker?"
He took a deep breath and then said, "Four years, Sir. I've been sucking cock for four years now."
Damn! This boy had started sucking cock when he was ten years old. When I was in sixth grade, I could have gotten him to suck my dick. That was the last time I'd gone over to his house, and I'd spent the night. Now that I knew, I planned to make up for lost time. Still, I had to wonder – whose cock was he sucking when he was only ten?
He was turned on by this confession. I could tell by the twitch in his tiny cock. I looked him in the eye and ordered, "Pull down my pants and get my cock out."
He reached up and undid the waistband of my jeans and then pulled them down, followed by my boxer briefs. My cock was hard and ready to explode, so this was going to be a short encounter. He looked up at me and asked, "Can I please suck your big cock, Sir?"
"Yes, boy. You can suck my cock."
Patrick licked his lips and then opened his mouth wide to take my cock inside. He knew how to keep his teeth covered, just like Dylan did. I pulled out my phone and switched to video. When he looked up and saw it, a look of panic crossed his face, but he quickly resigned himself to the fact that I wasn't going to stop recording no matter what.
"Look up at me while you're sucking my dick and spread your legs so everyone can see how hard your dick is while you're sucking cock," I said.
Someone had trained this boy well. He spread his slender thighs exposing his tiny erection. He didn't seem to have any embarrassment over it, despite it being only about three inches long and extremely thin. I made sure to record it long enough to catch the glint of precum dripping from the tip. The way he was moaning and smiling around my cock, he looked like a sexy little whore.
I felt my scrotum tightening, pulling my nuts tight against my cock. I had to keep my voice low because I didn't want to be overheard. "Fuck, Patty! You're an expert cocksucker! I'm... going... to... blow... my... LOAD!"
I put one hand on the back of his head and pulled him close to me, burying my cock in his throat. I still held the camera with the other. "Get ready... to swallow. Here... it... comes! Fuck! Suck it down so I can mark you as mine!"
Patty's mouth on my dick was sending wave after wave of pleasure through my cock, my belly, my heart, even up my spine to the top of my head. My cock was tingling like a tongue on a 9-volt battery. Then my whole abdomen tightened. So did my ass and my scrotum. When those muscles released, my cock exploded in his mouth. I hadn't cum in days, so I shot six loads and he swallowed them greedily. After the last he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue showing the camera the glistening layer of semen covering it. Then he pulled it inside and showed me that it was clean.
"Now masturbate for me, boy. Catch it in your hand and eat it," I demanded.
He smiled up at me. Damn he was pretty. "Can I clean your cock for you first, Sir?"
I nodded and said, "Yes." So, he took my cock back into his mouth and used his tongue to clean all the spunk off it. Then he spread his knees as far as they could go and used two fingers and his thumb to start masturbating. It took him almost no time before he started gasping, his narrow chest heaving.
Then he cried out softly, "I'm cumming, Sir!"
He caught all his spunk in his hand and then brought it to his mouth. He looked up at the camera and stuck out his tongue. He stirred the little pool of semen and then lapped it up. I laughed and said, "You've done this before."
He nodded. "My... um... my lover is out of town, and sometimes he makes me do this for him on video chat."
"You sound devoted to this lover of yours," I said.
He nodded. "I love him more than anyone else, and... I have to tell him about you. He won't mind, but he may be angry that we did it without permission."
I shrugged. "Let him know but remind him that I have you on video. If he cares about you, he'll play nice. Where did you meet this lover of yours?"
Patty grinned. "I met him at my house, actually."
"A friend of the family? An uncle? A cousin?" I asked.
"Something like that," he replied coyly.
I put one hand on his bare shoulder. "You're not afraid of me anymore, are you?"
He shook his head and replied, "No. I was afraid you were going to hurt me or denounce me in front of everyone, but not anymore."
"Why not," I asked.
He shrugged and said, "You wouldn't beat up someone who was willing to suck your dick for you whenever you wanted, and you wouldn't tell everyone about it either. If you did, you wouldn't get your dick sucked anymore."
I laughed at his bluntness. "And what if I want to fuck your sexy ass?"
He sighed, "Mm! I hope my lover will let me. I haven't been fucked in a while and toys aren't the same."
I couldn't help but laugh at his boldness. We both got dressed and went to class. We were ten minutes late, but we didn't care.
Damian
I left school as soon as possible. With Dylan injured, Steven was available to see me. I know that it sounded petty and selfish of me, but Steven had been tasked with transporting Dylan around and it was cutting into our time together. My parents didn't like me staying out late on school nights, and my mom always got a little upset when I missed dinner. I was the youngest and the only one still at home she could try to force feed. She was an excellent cook, and I loved her dearly, but I'd be as big as a house if I tried to eat everything she put in front of me.
When I got to the Groth house, Dylan opened the door. He was wearing one of Kurt's tee shirts, belted with a tie. It looked like a dress. Of course, he was smiling. I gave him a cautious hug, being careful to avoid his back. Cory came into the living room dressed in a tiny pair of shorts that left the bottom of his buttocks exposed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his smooth chest was exposed. Cory looked a lot like Dylan, but what little muscle he had was fully toned. I appreciated the sight.
Cory stood on his tiptoes to give me a hug. "Steven will be back soon. Let me get you some iced tea and... a sandwich?"
I seldom ate lunch at school, so I accepted his offer. Dylan put an arm around my waist and said, "You usually dress so... stylishly, but today you look kind of drab. Is there something wrong?"
I shook my head. "No... yes... maybe. My brother asked me to tone down my dress at school so no one would know I was gay."
Dylan smiled and started unbuttoning my shirt. "But everyone here knows that you're gay. You need to get sexy before Steven gets here."
I let him undo all my buttons, revealing the bright rainbow striped muscle shirt I'd worn underneath my plain seafoam green polo. "That's better!"
He pulled my shirt off and folded it neatly before laying it across the back of the couch. Then he looked at my jeans and shook his head. "That's good enough for the guys. But you don't want to be one of the guys, do you? You're one of the boys at heart."
He put his hands on my waistband and waited for my approval before undoing the first button. Then he rapidly undid them all and pulled my jeans down revealing the thong I was wearing, a charcoal gray band, trim, and strap with a neon pink pouch.
I laughed and said, "There isn't a pair of tiny shorts here that will fit me, so I think the jeans have to stay."
"Or..." he paused... "you can just wear that sexy thong so that Steven knows exactly what you're here for."
I couldn't help but laugh. Dylan joined in and I let him take my jeans off. When Cory came in with glasses of iced tea, he shook his head. "Roger is going to lose it when he sees you dressed like that."
I stopped laughing and said, "I should just put my jeans back on then."
Cory broke out laughing too. "No. It will do him good to get his heart pumping. It's not that he won't appreciate the sight. He just thinks he shouldn't have underage teens running around bare ass naked or in their underwear just in case someone came peeping through the windows."
"I don't want to make him mad," I said.
Dylan chimed in. "He won't be mad at you. He'll just chew Steven out in private and then send him to spank you. That's what he did to Kurt the last time I came into the kitchen naked."
Cory was still laughing. "You can always say that I told you it was okay. I'm always up for a spanking."
I started laughing again too. "Is that what we boys do here at the Groth house? Break the rules and hope to get a spanking?"
Both Cory and Dylan started laughing and nodding their heads. Cory looked young enough to be Dylan's older brother. With only twelve years between them, they were closer in age than me and my oldest sister. I didn't know the whole story, but Dylan's mom had kept her baby brother from seeing her kids for years. Now that these two were together they acted like long lost siblings.
Cory put on some music and got the three of us dancing. I hadn't felt this gay since Indianapolis and I was loving it. We didn't even hear Steven come in, and we didn't see him until he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest. He started swaying to the music and kissing my neck. I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He moved them up to his shoulder and put his hands around my waist instead, letting them slide down to cup my ass. He tugged on the strap of my thong, causing it to rub against my hole. Shivers ran up my spine and my dick pressed against the stretchy cloth of the pouch.
He kissed my neck and then whispered, "You shouldn't be naked outside the bedroom until there are no more minors in this house. It'll look bad if someone comes by."
"I know. Cory told me that your dad would order you to spank me for breaking the rules. We could always save him the time. You could take me upstairs and spank me before your dad gets here," I said.
"Damn, you're sexy! Dancing here in a thong, your dick poking out like a pointer, your sexy ass sending out undeniable `come fuck me' signals. And now you're begging to get spanked."
"If my ass is telling you that it's so hungry, maybe you should listen to it and do as you're told," I replied.
He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. "Spank first; fuck later," he said.
He started walking toward the stairs, but I said, "WAIT! My clothes!"
Cory grabbed them and brought them over to hand them to me. He was laughing. "I don't want to delay your spanking."
Steven laughed and said, "I know you two got this started. When they get back, Dad can take care of you and Kurt can spank Dylan."
As Steven started climbing the stairs, Dylan called out with a fake pout, "Kurt won't spank me; I'm injured."
And Steven replied, "I'll make sure he spanks you once you've healed and he'll add another ten swats for every day he's delayed."
Steven took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the top, he put me down and swatted my butt. "Go to the bathroom and douche your butt. And use saline, not tap water!"
I hurried into the bathroom and found my douche under the sink. Steven had labeled it for me. I also found the neutral saline and a big pump bottle of lube. I made sure to clean myself out and then washed the douche carefully before putting it away.
Steven had the music on when I got to his room. He was sitting on the bed, and he had a round leather clad paddle lying next to him. He was wearing only a pair of briefs cut high on the side. His dick was so hard that it was jutting up, threatening to burst through his underwear. He tapped the paddle with his finger and said, "I believe that I owe you a spanking, stud. The question is, should I give you a gentle sexy spanking, or should I give you a real spanking, like Kurt gives Dylan."
I knew he was challenging me, but I couldn't resist. "I can take anything Dylan can take. Bring it on big boy."
He handed me a pair of dice. "When Dylan gets a spanking, he rolls these two dice to determine how many swats he gets."
I grabbed the dice and rolled them on the floor. They came up 5 and 6. "That's near maximum, but I can take 11 swats."
Steven started laughing and shaking his head. "We multiply them together, so that's 30 you have coming. Of course, I can substitute 10 swats for a solid smack to the balls. That's 30 swats, 3 smacks to the balls, or some combination of the two. You know 1 ball smack and 20 swats, 2 ball smacks and 10 swats."
"With the paddle?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yep. Swats and ball smacks, both with the paddle."
I shook my head. "I'll take 30 swats, thank you very much."
He waved the paddle in my face and said with a smile, "This is punishment, not playing around. You get another 5 swats for not saying sir."
"Mm, how did you know that I'd like this game, sir?" I asked.
He smiled wickedly and replied, "You told me that you wanted to be treated like my submissive when you were around Cory and Dylan. And that's another 5 swats for thinking this is a game."
"I'm going to shut up now, sir, so I don't earn any more swats," I said.
Steven
I'd been skeptical when Damian told me that he wanted to try and be submissive when around my family, but then I came home and saw him dancing with Cory and Dylan. He was wearing a rainbow muscle shirt that clung to his body like a second skin, showing off his sexy body, well-toned by years of swimming. His amazing ass, so firm and round, was displayed nicely with a dark gray strap running between his cheeks and a neon pink pouch barely containing his swollen cock.
Damian fit well with the other two. His dick, although average in size, was the thing that distinguished him from them. They were both much smaller than average, making only the barest bulge in the front of their tight shorts. Although taller and sturdier in build than Cory, their bodies were similarly muscled, and he seemed right at home dancing with them. He wasn't truly submissive, but he deserved the chance to indulge his submissive side when he was able.
I almost didn't want to interrupt the dance. I was incredibly aroused by watching these three sexy guys, even though one of them was my brother's boy and the other belonged to my father. I didn't really consider myself dominant, but maybe that was because I was comparing myself to Dad and Kurt. I was coming to realize that, compared to Damian, I was pretty darn dominant.
I had to stop Damian and put some clothes on him before Dad got here because my father had made it clear that there would be no nudity in the common areas so long as minors were present. It wouldn't do for stories to pass around town that we were "corrupting minors". Things were at a delicate stage with Dylan. Pastor Morgan could make trouble in countless ways.
I walked up behind Damian and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tight to my chest. I wasn't a great dancer, but I moved to the music as best I could. I kissed his neck and ran a hand across his tight belly. When he turned around to face me, I moved his hands to my shoulder so I could move mine lower to feel his smooth ass. He gave the tiniest of moans, so I pulled the strap of his thong tight to make it rub against his hole.
I kissed his neck again and whispered, "You shouldn't be naked outside the bedroom until there are no more minors in this house. It'll look bad if someone comes by."
Cory smiled at me and suggested that I spank him before my dad came home and ordered me to do it. And that was when I knew that he was asking me for a spanking. My cock seemed to like that idea. It pressed painfully against the crotch of my jeans. I decided to give him what both of us obviously desired. I threw him over my shoulder and took him upstairs, pausing only long enough for Cory to hand him his clothes.
While he was getting ready, I took all my clothes off except for my briefs. My ass had a metaphorical itch that I really wanted Damian to satisfy for me, but that wasn't going to happen today. I had to let him play out his submissive desires. And I had to give him a real spanking. I knew for a fact that he'd never had one. His parents weren't the spanking type and Damian was a good boy, following all the rules his parents laid down, except for the one about no premarital sex. And he broke that one with great regularity and enthusiasm.
I made sure that he wanted a real spanking before having him roll dice to determine how many swats he had coming. I loved the look on his face when he rolled a 5 and a 6 and thought he'd earned 11 swats instead of thirty. He earned another 10 swats for failing to call me "sir" and for treating the spanking as a game.
I had intended to put him over my lap, so I could feel his erection poking into my thighs, but I wanted to make this as authentic as possible. He had to know what it felt like if he was going to make an informed decision. As much as the idea of spanking his fine ass was exciting me, I was not going to create this kind of relationship with Damian unless I was completely sure that he was making an informed decision.
I reached down and adjusted his cock and balls, making certain that they would be protected by his thighs. "Let's keep your jewels safe from harm, stud. I'm going to keep an eye out, but I need you to let me know if your cock and balls aren't safe on the other side of your legs. I don't intend to strike you anywhere but your nice round butt, but you could always move at the last moment, and I could hit down here."
I ran a hand up his muscular thigh. He moaned and arched his back. "I trust you, sir."
I shook my head. "It's not about trust, Damian. I hope you never have reason not to trust me, but this is about safety. While we're on that subject. This spanking is going to hurt. It won't be anything that Dylan and Cory don't get, but you have the opportunity to end it at any time. If you want me to stop, just say... `June bug', and I'll stop, no questions asked. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. If I say `June bug' you'll stop and you won't ask questions," he replied.
I ran a hand over his smooth round ass and then held the paddle in front of his face. "Good. I'm glad you understand. Now kiss the paddle."
He wasn't smiling and his face said that he understood that it wasn't a joke. He looked serious but determined. I placed a hand in the small of his back and pulled the paddle back. I swung it in a wide arc. When it hit his ass, he jumped forward a little and cried out, "That's one! Thank you, sir. May I have another!"
I chuckled. "Someone has been reading naughty stories online."
He blushed and his ears turned red. "Yes, sir. I have, sir. I want to experience this exactly the way it's supposed to be, sir."
I struck him again, making him cry out a second time. He kept the words the same, like a mantra. Each time I waited until he was back in a safe position before striking him again. I wasn't holding back. I let him have the full force of the blow. His ass reddened with each strike, and by the tenth it wasn't fading back to white. It remained rosy.
I paused. "Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?"
He gritted his teeth and shook his head. "NO, SIR! I have 30 more coming, sir."
I rubbed his ass. It felt a little warm. Then I slid my hand between his legs and felt his erection. Damn if he wasn't still hard as a steel rod and leaking like crazy. I withdrew my hand and put it on the small of his back again. Then I swung the paddle again. This time he cried out, "FU... FUDGE! That hurt... ELEVEN! ELEVEN, sir. That was eleven, sir. May I please have another!"
He'd almost forgotten to count, and he'd almost used "naughty language". It was sweet how he tried to keep his language clean like the "good boy" he was. I kissed his reddened butt cheeks and then pressed gently down on the small of his back again. I gave him another nine hard swats without comment. He didn't fail to count them out. His body had become slick with sweat and his nose was running.
Damian sniffled and said, "Please, sir... "
"Please stop?" I asked.
He shook his head and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "No, sir. Please don't ask me if I want to stop, sir. I want to see it through, sir. I need to see it through."
I thought he was going to start crying. I put an arm around his shoulder and kissed his sweaty temple. My mind wanted me to call it off, but my body was responding to Damian's vulnerability, his need to submit to my hand. I was ready to drop a load in my briefs without touching myself. Was this what Kurt and Dad experienced every time they had their submissive lovers beneath their hand? Having him so completely in my power sent a thrill through my entire body.
I knelt upright beside him on the bed and made sure he was in a safe position. Then I signaled that I was ready to resume by placing my hand on the small of his back again. Damian was a determined stud. He arched his back a little, raising his hips to give me a better target. His butt was red now. I pulled the paddle back and swung it against his cheeks. I reduced the force by cutting the arc of my swing in half. As I suspected, his reaction was the same because he was sore enough now that it felt the same to him.
He counted each stroke and asked for another. By the time he reached 30, he was crying openly. Before I could pause, he cried out, "Please, sir! Don't pause. Just give me the last 10!"
I was regretting my decision to add those extra ten swats, but it was too late to back down now. If that was what he wanted, that was what I was going to do. He knew the safe word and he was making the conscious decision to continue.
I gave him the last ten as quickly as I could without risking his safety. He was openly sobbing as he counted them out. When I landed the last blow, he cried out, "40 sir! Thank you, sir! Can I have another, sir?"
He was running on automatic. I put the paddle down and slid into bed next to him. I pulled him into my arms and held him until he stopped crying. "I love you, Damian. Is this really what you want? Do you want me to spank you again in the future?"
He nodded. "If I screw up, I want you to spank me. But I'm never going to play around and tease you into spanking me again."
I laughed as I brushed his damp hair back from his sweaty forehead. "Damian, you are the best-behaved young man I've ever met. I'm kind of a straight arrow myself and you make me feel like a bad boy. You'll never get another spanking again in that case."
He kissed my lips and ran his hand down my chest. "I want you to be in charge. My dad never raised a hand to my mom, but no one doubts that he's in charge. That's what I want from you. I want you to be the boss in our relationship and I want to do what you say."
I kissed him back and said, "You don't need me to spank you for that."
He laid his head against my chest and said, "I know, Steven. I just wanted to see what it felt like, and I wanted you to know that I was willing to submit to you in this way."
I stroked his hair gently. "So, you aren't interested in an equal relationship?"
He shook his head. "My parents have a perfect relationship. They love each other, they support each other, and I've never heard them argue. That's what I want. It's the only model I know that works, and it's what I want."
I kissed him again, this time with passion. My tongue thrust inside his mouth and wrestled him into submission. We both started laughing, which kind of ruined the moment. I said, "If that's what you want, Damian, it's what you'll have. If we get married, you can even promise to obey me, but no more spanking when you make a mistake. Your parents don't have that kind of relationship and you said you wanted one like theirs."
He ran one hand along my jaw and asked, "Can I still have the other kind of spanking? The sexy kind?"
I would have swatted his butt playfully, but I was afraid of hurting him. "Of course, you can, Damian. If you want me to warm your butt a little before fucking it, I will."
He put his hand on my erection and said, "You must have liked that. You're ready to burst any moment."
I touched his hard cock through his sopping wet thong and replied, "So are you."
He moaned, "Please, Steven, make love to me now."
I rolled him over onto his back and pulled his wet thong off. His cock was pulsing, and it was harder than I'd ever seen it. I knew that he would cum immediately if I touched it. That's how close he was. I pulled my briefs off and tossed them over my shoulder. I wasn't going to last long myself. That spanking had been a highly charged experience for both of us.
Damian pulled his legs back and held them back on either side of his chest. His cheeks were an angry red, but his sexy hole was winking at me. I grabbed the lube and rubbed it gently around the rim. He inhaled sharply and said, "Jesus, Mary, Joseph! I'm so excited my... anus... feels like it's on fire. I need you inside me now, sir."
I applied more lube and slowly worked it inside him. "I can't rush this, Damian. We've been through this before. I will never hurt you during sex, ever. You're a little loose because you're excited, but you need to relax just a little more."
Then I patted the side of his face. "And just call me `Steven' or `Steve'. I don't need a `sir' from you."
He arched his back and sighed with pleasure as my finger slid inside him. "Yes, s... Steven."
His lips were parted, and he was breathing heavily. He was staring into my eyes, and I could see his need. Oh my God, he's beautiful, I thought. And that's when I realized it. I'd been fighting to deny my feelings for him for the last two years. This beautiful and innocent guy had made his feelings known to me through his devotion time after time, and I'd rebuffed him.
But now I knew for sure. I was in love with Damian. When he looked at me like that, with adoration in his eyes and a smile playing along his lips, my heart melted in my chest. He already wore my class ring on a chain around his neck, but I was imagining another ring, this one on his finger. He was too young for such a step. Hell, I was too young for such a step, but it was going to happen. I had no doubts.
"I love you, Damian," I said.
His eyes shot open wide, and he gasped, "I love you, too, Steven. I've been in love with you since the first day I saw you at swim practice."
Tears came to his eyes. He sighed loudly and said, "Just fuck me now, Steve. The spanking, you playing with my butt, that declaration of love. I'm going to cum hands free any minute now, and I need you inside me when it happens!"
I bent down to kiss him and said, "Yes, sir, my studling! If you need fucking, let me get to it!"
I spent another minute stretching his hole, then lined up my cock and pushed it inside him, slowly, enjoying every sensation. It was the quickest fuck I'd ever experienced. I'd barely thrust inside him a half dozen times when he started yelling. "I'M CUMMING! OH... MY... GOD... I'M CUMING NOW!"
His cock exploded sending his first load flying through the air to land on his neck, the other five making a trail of ever diminishing size all the way down to his abs. His hole clamped down on my shaft like it was making out with my cock.
I grabbed his hips and buried myself as deep inside him as I could. "TAKE MY LOAD, STUD. TAKE MY SPUNK INSIDE YOUR SEXY ASS!"
When I withdrew, we didn't bother to clean up right away. We lay there in each other's arms, our breathing slowly returning to normal. We caressed one another gently and lovingly, and we kissed, not with the urgent passion of need, but the soft passion of post-coital bliss.
"Did you mean it, Steve? Did you mean it when you said you loved me, or was it just something you said in the heat of passion?"
I turned his chin so I could look directly into his eyes. "I meant it, Damian. I'm sorry that I didn't say it earlier. And I'm sorry that I allowed an idle dream to stand in the way of what I had in front of me. You're the one. I more or less stopped hooking up with other guys once we started having sex. Sure, I did it a couple of times to convince myself that I wasn't in love with you, but all I was doing was fooling myself."
Damian sighed, "I'm so glad, Steven. I... I've waited to hear you say those words for so long. I wish I could stay here in your arms forever and never get up."
Of course, we couldn't stay there forever. We got up and took a shower. Then we got dressed and Damian had to go home to his parents.
After football practice I hung around in the locker room until everyone else was gone. When the coach left, he reminded me that I'd be able to get out the main doors, but not back inside since I didn't have a key. I already knew, of course. All the buildings were secured that way after 4:00 o'clock. Once I was sure I was alone, I pulled the douche and the bottle of saline I'd bought out of my bag. I didn't really want to do this. I knew that I was being unenlightened, but cleaning out my ass felt gay to me, and I was bi. If Steven were here, he'd tell me that I was making unnecessary distinctions, that there were girls he'd consider trying to have sex with and that didn't make him bi, that it was more of a mindset and a sexual identity than a firm rule. Still, I was going to let Mr. Williams play with my butt today.
Last time we'd been together, he'd shoved a finger up my butt and then wiped shit on my face when it came out dirty. I didn't want to experience that again, or anything worse. Mr. Williams had never texted anything obviously incriminating, but he'd strongly implied that he was going to fuck my ass and then make me suck his dick afterward. I thought that I would die if his dick came out dirty.
I had to get Dylan and me out of this situation. I didn't like to see that man touching Dylan. Dylan belonged to me, and no one was ever going to touch him again without my permission, not if my plan worked.
I was so glad that Steven had made me learn all about anal douching when I first started talking about fucking Dylan. Maybe there was a plus side, though. Maybe, just maybe if it wasn't too bad, I'd start cleaning up before having sex with Dylan. And then maybe I could get Dylan to lick my ass. He seemed to love it when I ate his butt. Who was I kidding? If Dylan even suspected I was interested in it, he'd have his tongue in there as fast as I could drop my pants.
Of course, I hadn't thought of it at all until Greg had asked me if Dylan had ever done it to me. He'd read about it online, but he'd been too afraid to ask his girlfriend to do it for him. But I had noticed that Greg seemed very interested in Dylan ever since I'd allowed him to fuck my boy. I knew that he was hinting that he wanted me to share my little slave boy with him again. Truth was that I liked it when I saw Greg fucking Dylan, knowing that I was in control of the encounter. Once my boy was healed, I'd have to have both of them stay over again.
I filled the bulb with saline and then opened a packet of lube. Damn! My fingers were cold and trembling. I tried to ignore my jittery nerves and apply lube to the tip of the bulb. It didn't look too scary. No, the scary part was when I lubed up my finger and touched it to my asshole. It clenched tight, anxious to prevent the intrusion, but I persevered. The feeling of my slippery finger sliding around my anus sent a shiver through my body and made my cock twitch. I pressed a little harder and the tip of my finger pushed past the anal ring. I didn't hate it.
I made sure to use enough lube to make my ass super slippery, probably more slippery than I needed. Then I knelt down with my ass in the air and pushed the nozzle inside me. I squeezed the saline into my ass. There was pressure, but not much. Steven had told me once that too much pressure meant you had used too much water. So far, so good. I stood up and did some twists and stretches. When the need to expel the liquid grew too great to contain, I sat on the toilet and voided my bowels. I repeated the process four times before I was satisfied that I was clean. Then I cleaned the bulb and put it away. I decided to put a couple packs of lube up my ass before getting dressed.
I put on a pair of sweat shorts and a tee shirt. No need to make this more complicated than it had to be. I left my underwear in my bag. I had just one more text to make before heading over to Mr. William's house. The drive was short, but uncomfortable. I could feel my ass leaking lube into my shorts the entire way. He lived in a small farmhouse with a long lane. I was just outside of town. I pulled up to the side of the house to park next to his car and I saw him coming toward me.
He has a smug expression on his homely face. "Just leave your cellphone in the car, boy. My wife and kids won't be back for two hours, so you can leave your clothes there as well."
So much for plan A, or rather the first part of my plan. I looked around. We were far enough back from the road that no one would see me, so I stepped out of the car and stripped off my clothes. Mr. Williams was smirking at me. "Throw me the keys, boy."
I tossed the keys in his direction. He caught them handily and put them in his pocket. Then he walked over to me and grabbed my dick. I wasn't aroused, but I was five or six inches long when soft. Mr. Williams leered at me and said, "You are one fine looking buck. But we have to establish the rules for your first visit to my house. While you are here, you are to be respectful and obedient. You will call me `sir' at all times, and I had better never hear the word `no' come out of your mouth. Do you understand me, boy?"
"Yes, sir," I said.
He patted my face roughly with the hand that wasn't holding my dick. "And you'd better not hesitate. If I give you an order, I expect you to obey it immediately, boy. Do you understand this rule, boy?"
It was better to just agree and get it over with, so I replied, "Yes, sir."
His constant use of the word "boy" struck me as more racist than playful. Whenever I used that word when talking to Dylan, I said it with a tone of affection in my voice.
He let go of my dick and said, "Get down on all fours and crawl in front of me, boy." He pointed toward the door to his back porch, and I started crawling. He said, "Spread your knees apart so I can see your nuts swinging while you crawl, boy."
It seemed that Mr. Williams was planning on humiliating before fucking me. I had been raised to be proud of my heritage. I wanted to try and maintain a little dignity, but I had no time for even performative resistance. I needed both of us to be inside the house as soon as possible if my plan was going to work.
I crawled up to the door and waited for him to open it. Then crawled into the house. I knew that this was going to be worse than I feared when I saw the confederate battle flag hanging on the wall. Mr. Williams strode into the room and picked up a yardstick. He swung it through the air a few times. Then he looked down at me and sneered. "You'd better get that dick of yours hard and keep it hard. If it goes limp, I'll beat it with this stick. And if you cum without permission, I'll beat it with this stick. Now get to stroking!"
My ears were burning with anger, but I'd resolved to see this through long enough for the plan to unfold. The fact that he wasn't really in control almost made me smile. I was in control. At any time, I could get up and beat the ever-loving shit out of him and he was too weak to stop me. I was choosing to participate in this sick fantasy of his. It was my decision to save Dylan that had me kneeling here, that and my certain knowledge of what was to come.
I took hold of my cock and started to stroke it, but nothing was happening. This whole situation was as unsexy as it could be. He swung that stick and hit me on the shoulder. "If you can't get that nigger cock of yours to work, I'll hit it with this stick until you do get hard, boy!"
I stared off into the distance and thought of Dylan, his skin like fresh cream, his pouty lips so damnably kissable, the feel of his smooth thighs wrapped around my waist, the way his little hole winked at me and how it clamped so tight on my cock... hell, the way it tasted on my tongue. Picturing Dylan worked wonders. My dick came to life, and I was able to stroke it to full erection.
Mr. Williams tapped my cock with his yardstick. "This isn't a human dick. It belongs on a donkey, boy."
I didn't say anything, I just stroked my cock in silence. When he didn't get a rise out of me, he barked, "Look at me, boy, open your mouth and keep it open."
His face betrayed a host of emotions. Anger, fear, disgust, and envy were chief among them. I held my mouth open, and he spat inside it. He stared at me as if daring me to say or do anything except obey him. I steeled my spine and stared back at him impassively, while he spat in my mouth over and over again. I knew he was trying to demean me, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much it hurt inside. I had to endure it, and I had to keep him distracted. It was essential to my plan, the only way I was going to get us free of him. I hoped everything was going to work out as planned, but I had no way of knowing yet.
"Okay, boy, you can swallow that spit now," Mr. Williams said with a grin, like he was expecting me to thank him for it.
I kept my eyes locked defiantly on his. In order for this to work, I needed to get him to become more extreme. And he did. Too bad I couldn't record any audio since my phone was in my car. I just hoped the other parts of the plan were working.
"Look at you, down on your knees where you belong. I'm glad your little faggot boyfriend isn't here tonight. It gives me a chance to put you through your paces, boy. And if you keep putting your fucking nigger dick in that little white boy, it's just going to get worse for you."
Damn,
I wished that I was getting this on audio!
He pulled his dick out of his pants and slapped my face with it. It was humiliating, but I managed to keep my cool by imagining what would happen if it were my cock slapping his face. I'd knock him on his ass. His dick was what I'd come to realize was average. When I first started showering with the team at school, I thought everyone else had a tiny dick. No, mine was just big... really big. The way Mr. Williams kept staring at it, I was sure that he felt small and inadequate.
"Open your mouth, boy," he demanded angrily.
When I did, he placed the head of his dick just outside my mouth. "Don't spill a drop, boy."
Then he started pissing. It was bitter and it was the worst thing I had ever tasted. I gagged and coughed it up all over my chest. It rolled off my body and flowed onto the floor. Instead of getting angrier, Mr. Williams was smiling. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but I swore never to ask Dylan to drink my piss again. Mr. Williams pissed all over my face and made a mess on the floor. He wiped the last few drops in my hair. My anger was getting the better of me, but I forced it down inside me where he couldn't see it.
His voice boomed, "Get down there and slurp up that piss with your tongue, boy."
"Yes, sir," I said without emotion. I still had my anger and indignation in check.
As I bent down and licked up the mess on the hardwood floors, I had to work hard to suppress my urge to gag and vomit. As if licking his piss off the none too clean floor wasn't torture enough, he swung that yardstick through the air, and it struck my ass with a resounding "THWAP"! I hadn't expected it, so it threw me off balance. I fell forward into the puddle of piss. Mr. Williams continued to strike my ass and the backs of my thighs with that stick until I'd slurped up every disgusting drop.
When I finished, he hit me so hard on the back with that yardstick that it broke. "Damn, boy! You've got a strong back. Now get yourself up and bend over the arm of that recliner over there. I'm going to fuck your black ass, just like you fuck that little faggot."
He was obsessed with Dylan. I couldn't help but chuckle inside. That was the one thing the two of us had in common. And I had the satisfaction of knowing that Dylan had chosen me, not him. The only reason that he'd allowed this man to defile him was to protect the two of us. And that was the reason I was allowing this fucking rapist to degrade me this way.
He didn't worry about foreplay or preparing my ass, he just pressed his cock against my hole and forced his way inside in one fell swoop. My stoicism gave way to a mighty scream. "That's right, boy! Scream out loud just like you make that sweet little faggot scream."
I didn't disappoint him. Sharp pain shot through my ass and all the way up my spine. I screamed again as he pulled almost all the way out and then thrust back inside. It hurt like hell, but it also served to make him let down his guard, to think he was winning when he was really laying the foundation for his own destruction.
He started ranting, punctuating every sentence with another painful thrust. "That's right. Cry you bitch! You may wonder why I was gentle with your faggot boyfriend, but I'm treating you like the piece of shit you are. It's simple. Dylan can't help being a faggot. He comes from a family of faggots. His own faggot daddy is probably fucking him at home as we speak. I've seen the pictures that hypocrite, Pastor Morgan, has hidden on his computer!"
All concern for myself vanished and was replaced with fear for Dylan. What did Mr. Williams mean about a family of faggots? Did he mean the pastor? Was pastor Morgan abusing Dylan? Were there pictures that needed to be destroyed? I almost jumped up and threw him off me prematurely, the plan be damned. I wanted nothing more than to beat the truth out of him. But I caught sight of a shadow outside the window that reassured me; it brought me back to my senses. I had to follow this thing through to its conclusion - and Mr. Edgar Williams wasn't going to like that conclusion one bit.
"Goddamn! Your black ass is tighter than fuck. I could almost believe that you weren't spreading your legs for the whole damn football team." I knew he was just trying to get under my skin, and it was almost working. I just kept asking myself, what would Steve do. The answer was simple. He'd follow his plan to its conclusion and then beat the shit out of the racist mother fucker later. I had to be like Steve. I had to remain calm and make him lose control, to cross a line he couldn't explain.
"Who are you calling a faggot, Edgar? You're the one who can't get laid without blackmailing teenagers. I've seen the way you look at the boys." I was just throwing shit against the wall to see what would stick. And that last accusation struck a nerve. I wondered what he had on his computer.
He grabbed my neck with both hands and started digging his fingers into my throat. Because of the odd angle, he couldn't really choke me. I was still able to speak. "Of course, with a little peewee like yours, they'd hardly feel it, pencil dick."
He punched me hard in the side a couple times. I hoped we had enough on him by now. I stood up abruptly and knocked him on his ass. "Get up, you pathetic pedophile! Get up, so I can kick your ass from one side of this house to the other! You made your first mistake when you dared to lay one perverted finger on Dylan. And tonight, you just made your last mistake."
He jumped up and said, "Don't forget the video I have of you and the pastor's son! I can still release it. How do you think Pastor Morgan will react when he sees a fucking nigger, the son of a man he fucking hates, egging on his little faggot son while he jizzed all over the altar?"
Dylan and I hadn't gotten any semen on the altar. It had all landed safely on Dylan's thin chest. I'd been stupid to have orchestrated the whole scenario, but I felt that I'd needed one last test of Dylan's obedience, his willingness to be my slave. Of course, I'd been a fool. I should never have questioned Dylan's devotion to me, just my fitness to be a responsible master for him.
Greg came into the room pointing his phone at Mr. Williams. His expression was grim, and his tone was severe. "I got it on video, Kurt. We can make sure that this sick son-of-a-bitch goes to jail for a long time."
Mr. William's made a lunge for Greg, but I grabbed him by the shirt and punched him in the face. "That's for being a fucking racist!"
I punched him again, spraying blood all over both of us. "And that's for putting your filthy hands on Dylan."
I changed targets and punched him in the stomach with all my strength, causing him to double over. "And that's for even thinking about putting your filthy hands on him again."
"STOP!" he cried out. "I give up. I'll leave you two alone."
"Damn right you will. Now delete the video from your phone." I demanded.
He grabbed his phone and showed me the video he'd been using to blackmail us. Then he deleted it. While I went to get dressed, Greg walked over to him and held up his own phone. "My video goes straight to the cloud. I'm sure that you thought of that as well. Let me see your phone."
Mr. Williams unlocked his phone and handed it over. Greg looked through the apps until he found what he was looking for. He set everything to be deleted, then he pocketed it. "I'll drop this along the side of the road so you should be able to find it. I don't want you to be able to cancel the deletion before it's done."
I was dressed, but still moving tenderly from the beating Mr. Williams had given me with that yardstick. I asked Greg, "Are we done?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. This sick fuck is going to show me all the computers in the house."
Reluctantly, Mr. Williams showed us his laptop and the desktop shared by his kids. Greg made him log into them as an administrator, then he changed all the passwords so that only he knew them. He made sure the google drive was deleting all the files, then he found every video file on both computers and deleted them as well.
Finally, he looked at Mr. Williams and smiled. "I'll send you the new passwords once all the files are deleted, and you prove to me that you deleted any copies on the church server."
The defeated man sighed dejectedly. "I'll do it first thing in the morning."
"Good," I said.
I was really glad I'd brought Greg into this with me. He knew computers really well, better than me for sure. It had been embarrassing knowing that he was seeing the whole humiliating show, but my only other option had been Steve. And I would have had to admit to him how badly I had screwed this situation up. I couldn't face that right now. For some reason it was easier to admit to Greg that I was an idiot than to admit it to Steve – and Dad could never know! He'd be angry, really angry, and worse he'd be disappointed.
We drove back to Greg's place. He had the whole basement to himself, and I was able to enter through the side door and take a shower without his parents seeing me. We made sure to document all the injuries Mr. Williams had inflicted before I got dressed and left.
Greg put a hand on my arm. "Hey man, this whole thing was fucked up. But I don't want you to worry about me. I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone. A secret between bros is sacred."
I gave him a quick side hug. "I know I can count on you, Greg. I'm just happy that we've put an end to this. Once Edgar deletes the files from the church servers, Dylan and I will never have to worry about the threat of that stupid video again."
Craig
Morgan
The lawyers for Kieran's trust had sent me another registered letter saying that I had no access to Kieran's trust. They hadn't said anything threatening, but I suspected from the tone that they were going to report me. I was fairly sure I hadn't actually broken any laws. I had been Kieran's legal guardian, and no one could prove that I hadn't spent that money on him. Still, I wasn't an expert on the law.
The computer was finally finished. I'd backed up the entire server onto the Terabyte drive I'd purchased. Then I tossed the janitor's keys onto the desk in the tech office and left the door unlocked. Let the janitor take the blame when they were found.
Donny and three of his partners in crime were in the parking lot. I couldn't count on my oldest son for much, but this was theft – and that was something he knew a lot about. "Is everything open and the alarm off?" he asked with a smirk that made me want to punch him in the face.
I couldn't hide my distaste for my oldest son and the way he'd chosen to live. "Yes. Make sure you leave the janitor's keys on the desk where the police can find them. Take all the computers, the cameras, and the AV equipment. Just make sure it gets sold far away from here. I don't want it traced back to us," I replied curtly.
He smirked at me and said, "No problem, Dad. We're going to take everything else of value before we trash the place too. But I'm sure your insurance will cover it."
I'd had enough of his disrespectful tone. I snapped, "Thief."
He shook his head. "Lying hypocrite! Pedophile! Child abuser! We can keep this shit up all night. You're stealing from your own church, and you have the nerve to look down on me. Let me tell you something, asshole. You... are... no... better... than... me." He punctuated each of his words by poking his finger in my chest.
He jabbed me in the chest one more time and added, "Tommy's going to stay with me for a while longer, so you don't have to worry about getting your pathetic ass kicked by a fifteen-year-old again. He needs a real man as a role model, not a sad loser who never had the courage to take what he wanted."
He leaned closer to me and said, "If I had wanted Cory as badly as you did, I would have made sure I had him. I wouldn't have lost him to another man and spent the last dozen years crying my eyes out over him."
Then he gave me a malicious smirk. "He's still fine, you know even though he's eleven years older than me, I may just go fuck him myself. Or maybe I'll fuck Dylan instead, something you've wanted since he turned twelve but never had the balls to do. Fuck, Dad, you'd have been a pedophile, but at least I could have respected you for being a man instead of a sad, pathetic, never-has-been who's going to live his whole life as a coward."
He and his friends laughed at me as they went into the church. If I didn't need them, I'd leave an anonymous tip with the police. Let them laugh, but Donny was right. I really wasn't any better than them, was I? And I had been a coward. Donny was right in one thing. I had to put my fear away. I wanted Cory and I planned to take him, at least once.
Donny and his fellow thieves would give me an equal share of their profits, and the church would collect a payment from the insurance company for the stolen AV equipment and Roger Fucking Groth would get off my back about the finances. I hated him almost as much as he hated me. I'd lost Cory to him twelve years ago. And I'd never forgive him for that.
I'd laid all the groundwork for Cory to move in with me and Bethany. His room would have been just up the hall from mine, and I would have visited him every night when she was asleep. I'd have had my marriage, my respectability... and I would have also had Cory. Then everything had blown up. Cory had been tossed out on the street before I could come up with another plan to claim him.
It took me a while to find an apartment I could afford. I was going to put Cory in that apartment. He would have been so grateful to me that he would have stopped arguing and pretending that he didn't want me, that he didn't crave my touch as much as I craved his. I'd have had him all to myself. I'd have kept him in that apartment and not let him out. If he resisted, I would have kept him there naked, safe, and protected, always ready for me to show up and make love to him.
I'd have had him all to myself, but then Roger Fucking Groth had swooped in and stolen him away from me. I still saw Cory sometimes around town. I couldn't get him out of my mind. And now I was sure that Roger was fucking both him and son. Those two beautiful faggots looked so much alike, who wouldn't fantasize about making both of them his?
I sighed and started the car. I wanted to be home just in case someone saw the panel van outside the church and called the cops. I'd get someone who knew computers to help me find and organize all the files. Not Edgar Williams. I didn't trust him. I was sure he was stealing money from the church anyway. If there was something incriminating that he'd hidden on this drive, I'd find it.
Roger
I'd had to pay Edgar Williams $1000 to get him to make a copy of all the church's hidden financial records. And then he'd offered me Craig's hidden files for another $5000. I'd been reluctant to give him that much money. His lack of morals and ethics had argued against it. But it had been worth it. I flicked through the images from Craig's personal laptop. Edgar had downloaded them when he installed the latest security software on his boss's machine.
There were pictures of several boys from the church. None of them were pornographic, but they were... titillating and would be hard for him to explain. There were pictures of the underage redhead boy in Indianapolis, the one he paid for sex. The pictures were... well they were hot. The boy was very pretty. He did look a lot like Kieran and Kieran's father. And Roger had been stupid enough to take pictures of the two of them in bed together, their naked bodies pressed together in the selfies. Most damning of all, there were pictures of Dylan. I knew Dylan so I knew he was probably twelve or thirteen in the nude shots, but he looked younger.
I had him. I just had to find the perfect time to make use of them to bring him down.
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's. 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.
● Patrick O'Rourke. A 14-year-old sophomore who turns 15 before the end of September. He's gay and has a mysterious boyfriend who lives out of town. Tommy Morgan decides to turn him into his bitch, but Patty is more than willing to play.
● 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.