Date: Sat, 27 May 2023 16:41:46 -0400
From: Robert Halstead <subkodak25@gmail.com>
Subject: Tommy Loves His sub-2

Chapter 2. College

All I could think about was that Tommy was going off to college, and we
wouldn't hardly ever have time to spend together. I was counting the days
until Tommy would be going away, and, I must admit, there were a few times
when Tommy caught me trying to cry myself to sleep. We would soon be
parted. And I was being condemned to a life of hard labor. And with my
father. Good grief!

Then one day, Tommy's father asked me to come to his office. I got scared,
because I was so used to getting into trouble and being punished, and I was
afraid I had gotten into trouble at Tommy's house. But when I went into the
office, it turned out that Pop (that's what I called him) had an
application to Tommy's college that he wanted me to fill out, and he helped
me with it. I protested because I could never afford to go there (it was a
really good school). He told me not to worry about it, that sometimes God
has ways to help people who can't help themselves. (Tommy's parents talked
about God a lot even though they didn't go to church. I never heard talk
about God at home). So anyway, I did it, just to please Pop. When it came
time to write the personal essay, Pop advised me to be completely truthful
and to "let it all hang out." To talk about what life at home was like. He
also asked me what I thought I would major in if I could get in. I looked
over the catalogue and decided something like sociology or
psychology—something I could use to help other people, especially kids
who had it as rough as me. Pop told me to make sure I put all that in my
application essay.

I skipped practice that day and spent all my time writing my essay. I
showed it to Pop and he said it was wonderful. He promised to type it up
for me and to send it off with the application. He told me not to worry
about the application fee.

One day a couple weeks later, Tommy and I got home from practice and there
was a letter from the college waiting for me. Both Momma and Pop were very
excited for me, as was Tommy, and we all sat around the table together
while I opened it with trembling hands. (Momma and Pop already knew what
was in it since they'd been pulling strings behind my back. This was the
school Pop went to as an undergrad, and he was a generous contributor to
the school, so I'm sure he had a lot of clout with them.)  So anyway, I
opened the letter. I couldn't believe my eyes! Three words jumped out at
me: Accepted. Full scholarship. I fainted and fell off my chair.

They tell me that Tommy was on the ground before my head could hit the
floor. When I came to, my head was in his hands on his lap and when I
opened my eyes, I saw three faces staring down at me with big smiles on
their faces: Momma, Pop and Cheryl. Tommy actually leaned over and kissed
me on the forehead! Momma had a tear in her eye. "We're so proud of you!
We're so happy for you, Dylan!"

I started to cry and buried my head in Tommy's hard belly. He rubbed
circles on my back with his hand. "Dylan," he said, "I have to ask you
something. A big favor." I looked up at him. "What? Anything dude! What do
you want?" He looked down at me with a serious expression on his
face. "When we get to college, . . . . .  will you be my roommate?" I
giggled like a fool. Tommy's father took us all to dinner at his club and
many people stopped by to congratulate the both of us. He was as proud of
me as if I were his own son, I swear!

I was anxious about how to tell my parents. Eventually, I took a coward's
way out, although Tommy was always telling me that I wasn't being a coward
by deliberately putting myself in a place where I wouldn't have to suffer
much abuse. Anyway, the next time I spent a night at "the house" (I never
could call it "home." Tommy's house was "home" for me. "The house" was just
a mental and physical torture chamber.) Anyway, that night, before I went
to bed, I just let the letter from the college sitting on the kitchen
table. When I woke up the next morning, I could hear my father yelling,
"Stupid fucking goddam school! Why the fuck would they want HIM?" He came
into my room. "Get your ass out of bed, big college boy!" I really thought
this time he would hit me. He had a whole bunch of other stuff to say, but
I don't want to tell it here. I don't want to bring up all the pain
again. Besides, when he started yelling like that, I had gotten pretty good
at tuning him out.  I got up and threw on my pants, hoping they wouldn't
notice that I was wearing Tommy's black boxer briefs instead of my own
pathetic ripped BVD's. Went out to the kitchen to see Tiger tearing up the
letter! "This is what I think of your shit!" he yelled, then threw a punch
to my shoulder which practically knocked me over. All of a sudden I hear a
car horn and realized that Tommy had come by to pick me up for school.

I ran out of the house and got into the car, holding my shoulder and
crying. "That fuck tore up my letter!" I cried. Tommy quickly drove away
with me sobbing. (Nothing new about that!) "He punched me so hard I think
he might have broken something!" Tommy pulled the car over and tried to
pull my shirt back, but I wouldn't let him cause I didn't want him to see
it. But instead of driving to school, he drove back to his house so his
mother could look at it. They coaxed me to take my shirt off, and I fought
them, but Momma wouldn't take no for an answer. When they got my shirt off,
my shoulder looked awful. But what was even worse for me, they both got to
see all the bruises that were down my back and in the front on my rib
cage. "That's the last straw!" Momma said, and she quickly got out her cell
phone and took pictures of me, front and back. Then she called my mother,
identified herself and then said, "I've just taken pictures of all the
bruises on your son's body." If he is ever hurt over there again, I will be
taking these photos to the police to have you arrested for abuse. Do I make
myself quite clear, Mrs. Sinclair?" Then she called their close friend and
family doctor, Dr. Mary, and asked if she had the time to take a look at
me, briefly explaining the situation.

Dr. Mary instructed her to put me in a warm bath with Epsom salts until she
was able to come over personally in a short while.

Tommy took me upstairs while his mother got the bath ready in Tommy's
bathroom. Tommy helped me strip off, but I was too upset to be embarrassed,
and then helped me into the tub. It hurt to sit in the water. Tommy poured
some soap into the water and gently washed my hair while taking softly to
me about how much he didn't want me to go over to "the house" anymore, and
how he wanted to call the cops. I just kept begging him not to.

Finally, Dr. Mary came by. She was a real sweet woman and very protective
of my modesty. She inspected my shoulder and the other bruises. She had a
special crème which she gently rubbed into my shoulder and then wrapped
a bandage around it. As for the bruises on my body, which distressed her
very much, she didn't think much could be done, although she decided to
wrap my ribs. She wrote a prescription for pain medication and gave it to
Tommy to go get filled at the pharmacy after he helped me out of the bath
tub. Tommy got one of his father's big bathrobes, and wrapped me in it just
like his father did when we were little boys. Then he helped me lie down in
the bottom bunk—HIS BED. The doctor put Tommy's name on the prescription
so his insurance could cover it.

Momma came into the room and knelt on the side of the bed next to me and
smiled at me. "Dylan," she said, "there are only a couple weeks of school
left, and I think it best if you stayed here all the time. I will notify
your parents that this is the way it will be. You can stay here from now
on. We will celebrate your graduation, and maybe you boys can find
something fun to do for a while after that. After the 4th of July, you will
both have jobs at corporate headquarters (The Roberts Enterprises, a
multi-national corporation founded by Tommy's grandfather, with Pop as the
CEO and President now). Dylan, I want you to understand this. It is very
important for you to understand this, my love: YOU ARE SAFE NOW. We love
you and you will always be part of our family." Once again, I started to
cry, but she kept stroking my cheek and she made me feel like a little
boy. Tommy got back and they gave me some of the medicine to take, and
shortly after that I fell asleep.

Graduation was wonderful. I won a couple of awards. National Honor Society
and cutest boy (that embarrassed me); I thought Tommy was the cutest boy!)
Tommy got the Athlete's Award, and I was very proud of him. My own parents
didn't even bother going to the graduation, but I didn't care at that
point. I had my new family and, like Momma kept telling me, I was safe.

Tommy's parents bought me a laptop as a graduation present. I knew how to
use the laptop because we had them at school and Tommy used to let me use
his to learn my way around and have fun, so I was pretty good at hunting
around the Internet. Once I discovered a site full of gay stories and I got
hooked on them. Eventually I found a collection of stories that were called
"authoritarian" which was all about Doms and subs, about Masters and slaves
and stuff like that. I hung out there a lot and my imagination got kinkier
and kinkier. When I really liked a story and it turned me on a lot, of
course I would imagine that the story was about Tommy and me.  Oh. One more
thing to tell.

One night, "Tiger" decided to tell me a little bit of family history. It
turns out that my "father" had had an affair and I was the result of that
affair. "So, you see, creep, you've always been a fucking bastard!" Anyway
the woman who gave birth to me (that's the only way I ever have referred to
her) didn't want me, and one day just dumped me on their doorstep with a
letter to my "mother." So with much regret and bitterness she took me in
and raised me. She tried to get status as a foster parent so she could get
some money for me, but for some reason that fell through and she was stuck
with me. To this day, I've often wished that she would have just dumped me
off somewhere else, but if that had happened, I never would have met
Tommy. But that's the story why I was never treated like the other boys in
the family, and why they always seemed to have a special hatred for me, and
always took it out on me.

College began, and it was a good time, especially since we were roommates
and also members of the swim team. His father paid my dues and his mother
gave me new speedos to wear. My parents never went to the meets so they
didn't know. I don't even think they realized I was on the swim team. I
realized I was gay since middle school, but was afraid to let Tommy know
that. I was terribly in love with him, and definitely afraid to let him
know that as well. He was a take-charge kind of guy, and even in our
friendship, I tended to let him call all the shots—where to go, what to
do. He liked us to spend a lot of our free time alone in the room. We
played chess, watched TV and just enjoyed one another's company. AS time
went by, I didn't enjoy it as much because I pined to throw myself into his
arms and bury my face between his legs.

Once I began living with Tommy permanently, I stopped hanging out at that
park. Besides, my last experience with that Dom guy scared me off quite a
bit. But you know how it happens. Gay guys always seem to have this ability
to discover where it is cool to meet other gay guys, even if they're in the
closet. It didn't take long to discover that there was a bathroom in the
basement of Dillinger Hall (the library), and that bathroom was a place to
go to get action. I didn't go too often, only when the pressure of being
with Tommy and not able to have him got to me and I needed to get something
out of my system. And, of course, for me that "something" meant being the
submissive one in a rest room encounter through what they call a "glory
hole.".

Being on the swim team was not as much fun for me as it was for him. Of
course, he was team captain. He used to spur me on to do better than I was
doing, and I tried my best to please him. The submissiveness of that scene
really turned me on, but I was really getting tired of pushing myself so
much on the team. The worst part of swim team for me was locker room time,
and I tried not to stare too much, but I have to confess that I had learned
to memorize every inch of Tommy's dick, and I thought it was the nicest
dick of anyone on the team. It began to be a problem, however, because I
found myself quickly getting erections in the showers and, of course, that
was very embarrassing. I mean, all the guys did from time to time, but in
my case it was happening every time, especially when Tommy was near me.

Finally, I decided that it was time for me to quit the team. I couldn't
stand the pressure any more. He was quite upset with me over this, and it
really upset me that I had disappointed him, but as time went on, he
stopped giving me a hard time about it. Whenever Tommy had to be away with
the swim team, I would be really depressed, but at least I had a chance to
get a lot of homework done. I went to Dillinger a lot and got really good
at sucking cock. Every time I did it, I would close my eyes and imagine it
was Tommy and I was making love to him. One night I was hanging out there
when a guy came in. I took care of him and he left. Then I took care of
myself and when I was finished I left to go upstairs.

But that guy (his name was Adrian) had stayed in the basement to see who it
was who had sucked him off. So he saw me and recognized me and told me that
he wanted a daily blowjob in his room (he had a single) every night or he
would tell others that I was a faggot. So I became his personal sub and he
really put me through my paces, making me suck and lick him all over. He
started smacking me around and I told him I didn't want him to do that, but
he said I had no choice. I started getting scared of him and finally told
him I was done and wouldn't be coming around any more. "Okay," he said,
"but remember what I told you: either you suck me off every night or I
start telling others about you."  Finally, I didn't care.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

If you want to read a sexier story of mine, check out "the Alex
Chronicles."

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subkodak25@gmail.com

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