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A Thanksgiving to Remember.
Thanksgiving Day: An initiation into carnal pleasures.
• Back to Blake’s room.
Liam paused at the doorway to his room. Blake was there, engrossed in the laptop screen resting on the blankets next to him. His hand was moving frantically under the sheets. His gaze focused intently on the onscreen heavy petting between a couple of men.
Liam didn’t speak; he just offered a slow, aching smirk. Blake understood instantly. He tossed the sheet aside, revealing his own erection. Not as massive as the Mahogany Tree Trunk of his older brother. But long enough to do some damage by itself. The fear dissolved, replaced by a profound, mutual recognition of their shared secret. Both guys were into dick.
Blake reached out his hand and showed off the cum covered palm. “Pre-Thanksgiving nut, anyone?” Evidently, the boy had nutted in surprise as soon as the two friends laid eyes on each other. Even though this was the first time Liam Moore was exposed to so much ebony goodness from his best friend.
Liam didn’t hesitate. He took the warm offering, licking Blake’s hand clean – a communal acknowledgment of their shared, forbidden destiny. But Lee did not stop there. He bent over, gently put a few fingers around the exposed eight-inch dong, and swallowed the head. As if the two had done this as long as they had known each other. The fact of the matter was, this was Lee’s first lolly-pop, regardless of its color. But it gave Moore a taste for more.
• Meeting Colton’s man.
Liam took out his phone to snap a picture of him blowing Blake. “Shit! Look at the time, bro? Get dressed, you need to ‘introduce me’ to the family,” he called out. It was 9:23 PM already, and Liam realized he had not yet met the rest of the Ryder family.
“Good point. Mom has been asking what you like to eat. You can stay here after Thanksgiving, if you like. Or... Umm... With Colt. Looks like you got on well. How was it?” Blake asked sneakily.
The fresh hickey on Lee’s neck made the last piece of the puzzle finally click into place. Blake had already guessed where Liam and Colton had been. Finally understanding why Colt dressed in his kinky leather pants and a biker vest today. Lee must have looked like the perfect stuffing, Blake thought, smirking knowingly.
“A true gentleman never tells...” smirked Liam, “... But hard work for sure. He dressed me up in leather and plowed my virgin ass. Yours is next tonight... if you want mine?” asked Liam seductively. Looking down at his own cock.
“Fo sure!” Blake agreed, adding, “... Damn glad you’re here, homie. I’ve been wondering if you were gay.”
“Don’t know, bro. But we can find out, can’t we?”
Both giddy men quickly changed outfits. Blake dressed in scuffed gray jeans, a shirt, and a pullover. Liam still wore the white denim shirt and Colton’s black bomber jacket, slipping on clean tightie-whities and a gray tracksuit bottom. The slick calf-skin jacket still felt dark and protective, a perfect accompaniment to the hickey barely peaking above the leather collar.
However, when the twinks entered the kitchen, Liam froze instantly. Standing beside Mama Dee was his authoritarian English Literature Professor, Mr. M’Kumi. The academic, dressed as usual in a crisp shirt, tie, and pleated pants, now wore an intimidating, modern black leather motorcycle jacket with a butch standing collar. Liam’s brain short-circuited; the sight of the leather on his formally dressed professor was a profound, stupefying shock.
Before the academic could offer a formal greeting, Colton emerged from the hallway, his face a mask of raw, hardened command: “Get to the counter, boy. You stand where I put you.” He gave Liam a half-smirk.
Professor M’Kumi snapped into position, his sophisticated Kenyan-English accent dropping to a humble murmur: “Of course, Master.” He folded his hands behind his back and respectfully bowed his head to the floor.
Grandpa Ryder, an aunt, and an uncle broke the stunned silence. Uttering a low, disgusted, surprised dissent. Colton ignored them. The family was clearly unaware of this dominant dynamic between the two men.
Liam reeled, the academic titan bowing to the thug in the polo shirt. The professor, noticing Liam’s stunned stare, offered a slight, polite nod, entirely unconcerned with the reason for the family’s shock; in their world, this was the accepted hierarchy.
Mama Dee greeted Liam warmly. At the same moment, Colton stepped up, wrapping an aggressive arm around M’Kumi’s waist. He swept his eyes over the surprised family members now gathering. Saying, “Mama, this here is Maurits M’Kumi... he’s my man.”
When a second - confirming - shocked ripple ran through the family, Colton’s voice dropped, raw and aggressive: “Yeah, you’ve heard me right the first time. My man. I am gay. Deal with it.”
Mama Dee, however, smiled brightly. “That’s wonderful, honey!” She knew, of course. Nothing gets past her. Colton looked triumphantly at Liam. Whispering: “Black Friday. We’re taking you shopping, Lee. We need to get you kitted out, boy. Can’t have a leather queer running around campus in a tracksuit.” Professor Maurits, a three-piece-suit kind of man on campus, smirked.
• Getting reacquainted with Blake.
The introductions and ensuing tension lasted until 10:45 PM, when Mama Dee finally shooed the family to bed, insisting she needed to prep the kitchen for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving cook-off. The two twinks mumbled quick goodnights to Mama Dee and the rest before hurrying back upstairs, their hearts still pounding. They didn’t speak until the door to Blake’s room was firmly shut.
Blake collapsed onto his bed, whispering, “Did you see Grandpa’s face? He looked like he swallowed a turd. The homophobe!”
Liam, however, was still reeling from the professor’s deferential “Master.” He unzipped the bomber jacket and let it drop onto the camp bed. As he moved to pull off Colt’s snap-button denim shirt, he noticed Blake was staring. Still buzzing from their earlier intimacy, Blake stripped off, already stroking his cock through his boxers, trying to wake it up for some more of Moore.
“You really think you’re gay now, don’t you?” Blake asked, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and desire, as he slipped onto his bed.
“I don’t know, bro. Might be fun,” Liam admitted. He shed his shirt and pants. Colton’s domination had completely shattered Liam’s inhibitions, fueling an immediate, driving hunger to continue exploring sex with men. He was only wearing his tightie-whities when he moved swiftly to the bedside and pulled Blake’s legs up. Then, positioning himself behind Blake’s lower body, he settled his weight onto the mattress.
His own tightie-whities, bulging with his erection, pressed firmly against Blake’s boxers. The action shoved Blake onto his back, and he let Liam take control. With his ass in the air, Moore resolutely slid Blake’s boxers off his buttocks and up his legs. Seeing the exposed asshole, he was fascinated by it. Blake flinched at the touch.
“But I know I want you, and you want this,” asked Lee as he stroked the erection over his underwear.
Blake eagerly arched up. “Fo sure, Lee. Do dis. Please. Screw me.”
Liam wasn’t even surprised by Blake’s willingness to give up his ass to Moore. Lee had always suspected Blake was leaning that way. Inspired by Colton’s quick leather domination session a few hours ago, Liam tore off Blake’s shorts. Flinging them halfway across the room. Bending down, Liam paused, his heart pounding – this was new territory – before resolutely applying his tongue to the cringing asshole of Blake. Blake let out a sharp, involuntary gasp, his hips immediately bucking upwards. Liam continued, spitting on it before sliding his manhood resolutely into his buddy.
Colton’s ebony rod stretched more than nine inches, thick as a boy’s arm. Moore’s meat didn’t come close to that size, but his own cock was a respectable seven-plus inches, well above average. Liam slid raw and unprotected inside his best buddy. Blake arched his back in surprise, trying to push away as Lee penetrated the forbidden, narrow love tunnel. He yelped out a sharp, breathless, “Ooh, ooh! Fuckin’ hell, Lee! Ahh, Lawd! Damn, you’re so big... Arghh!”
The two friends lost themselves in a few minutes of delightful motion. The intense heat and eagerness of the coupling were enough to send Liam over the edge in a rush. After four or five minutes, he loaded Blake’s willing ass, releasing the tension. The intense orgasm was a flood of pure, uninhibited relief, totally liberated by the knowledge that he was breeding a man. Liam took a breath, letting the sensation wash over him. He stayed buried deep in Blake’s slick heat, marveling at how tight this boy-cunt felt. Liam dropped onto Blake, letting him hug him tightly, and they French-kissed while he pumped his babies in deeper as the rush slowly faded.
The impromptu sex wasn’t hard or dominating like the session with Colton. This was more of a messy, desperate affair between friends that neither of them had imagined, but it felt intensely right. It was nice to fuck a tight, eager ass, a pleasure he realized he had always preferred to the sloppy pussies he had experienced before. He felt his entire length perfectly gripped, a thrilling, sensitive embrace that eclipsed every previous, fleeting encounter.
Later, as they lay side-by-side in their respective beds, the air thick with sweat and satisfied relief, they talked. Liam described the smell of the leather and the sheer physical power of Colton; Blake confessed he had secretly been hoping Liam was gay in high school. But had to admit that he would not have the guts to bring it up. They finally drifted off to sleep, their secret dream of an encounter now a physical reality, waiting for Thanksgiving Day to start in a couple of hours.
Even though Lee kept thinking about Professor M’Kumi. Wondering how gay he really was. He remembered seeing the wedding ring on the Professor’s finger many times on campus. But the gold earring suited the black man, too. Sneakily wondering if he could get some extracurricular credit from him before falling asleep in the early hours of Thanksgiving Day.
• Kitchen duty: winning over Mama Dee.
Liam awoke early on Thursday morning. His phone, set to vibrate under his pillow, woke the twink instantly. Lee dressed at top speed in Colton’s white snap-button shirt, neat black cotton waiter pants, and black sneakers, hoping he would be allowed to help serve the guests.
Liam worked on campus at a coffee shop; he was willing, able, and ready to serve under Deseray. The freshman had even taken his workwear with him. He knew the trick was getting the matriarch to accept his help serving drinks and snacks while she focused on the main dinner. Liam looked forward to the holiday, eager to avoid his own family’s snide remarks.
As he strode into the kitchen, he heard the frantic sounds of Mama Dee orchestrating the vast Thanksgiving meal. Liam walked right up to her and gave her a warm one-armed hug. She smiled and whispered, “Did I wake you up, hon?”
“Oh, no ma’am!” Liam said warmly. He had found Mama Dee in the kitchen, apron tied tight, already surrounded by mixing bowls and with flour dusting her cheek.
“Lee, that’s much too formal, dear. Call me Aunty Dee... I insist. What are you doing up so early? The guests don’t arrive before ten.”
“Aunty Dee, I’m just so happy to be here,” Liam offered, his voice sincere. “My family’s holidays are always… loud and cold. I really want to help. I know my way around the kitchen, and I’d honestly rather be busy than sitting awkwardly in the living room.”
Mama Dee’s expression immediately softened. She placed a comforting hand on Liam’s arm.
“Oh, sweetie. I get it. You just need a little soft place to land, huh? Well, this kitchen is it. But this is Mama’s domain, you hear? I don’t need a worker, but I’ll take a kitchen companion.”
Liam’s chest tightened with unexpected emotion. This was the unconditional acceptance he’d always longed for.
Before Liam could insist on helping, Professor Maurits M’Kumi appeared on Deseray’s other side, a spare apron draped over his neck. He approached Mama Dee with the smooth diplomacy of a seasoned academic.
“Mrs. Ryder, if I may,” Maurits interjected, his Kenyan-English accent conveying deep respect. “We insist on assisting you. Any grand orchestration – be it a curriculum or a culinary masterpiece – requires a steady hand. It would be a privilege to serve your vision.”
Mama Dee hesitated, slightly disarmed by the professor’s careful flattery. She finally sighed, dropping her spatula in defeat, but a small, proud smile played on her lips. “Fine! But you two are under my command, you hear? Maurits, you’re on the cranberry relish. Liam, you handle the canapés and serve drinks to the guests. Show me what you can do!”
Liam stepped to the sink to wash his hands and put on the chef’s jacket and half-apron he had brought from the cafe. Ready to get stuck in.
• Preparing a feast.
For the following hours, Liam found himself in a surreal environment, working side by side with Professor Maurits M’Kumi, the man who called Colton’ Master.’
Liam watched the charming academic delicately assembling cranberry relish and canapés, using the same hands Liam imagined had been bound in service to his Master. Maurits eagerly exhibited impeccable manners while serving drinks and snacks to the arriving guests.
By ten AM, the house was already buzzing. Liam, dressed in his cafe workwear, was serving drinks like a pro and entertaining the youngsters with anecdotes of campus life.
Whenever Colton strode through the kitchen, he looked every bit the respectful eldest son, dressed in a crisp NFL shirt and sporty leather jogging pants, looking much less thug-ish than Liam had ever seen. He would casually rest a hand on the Professor’s back, exchanging a quick, proprietary glance with Moore. Liam now understood the silent message: My man. My pet. I tapped dat ass.
Liam felt the hint of sexual tension between the Alpha and his Beta, and he got a dose of it too. Colton stepped up behind Liam and wrapped his arms around Lee’s hips. Only hidden from prying eyes by an open pantry door. His hand inched nearer Liam’s groin, reaching under the half-apron to grope the ballsack with one hand, while the other wandered to Moore’s throat. Liam could feel the thick dick pressing through the leather jogger against his buttocks.
Maurits glanced over from the counter, a faint, dirty grin twisting his lips as he discreetly observed the intimate scene. He knew Master was basting the succulent white meat for tonight’s Thanksgiving afterparty.
Colton leaned close, his breath hot against Liam’s ear, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, impossible to hear over the halftime cheers:
“You stand right here, little piece of white meat. I know you’re leaking already, soaking those pants for me. Tonight, you ain’t gonna be stuffing no turkey. Nemo and I? We’re gonna be stuffing you until your guts ache. Every inch of my thick, black rod, right down your throat, and then deep, deep in your ass. That’s for later. Just remember who’s already got his hand on your neck and his meat riding your crack, waiting for that sweet dessert.”
Liam whimpered longingly, eyes locked on the kitchen timer, only able to ride his buttocks into Master Colt. He kept grinding them up and down against him. The threat of getting caught was terrifying, yet the danger made the entire exchange intoxicating. He grinded his ass back with subtle, minute movements, imperceptible to anyone but Colton, confirming his obedience and excitement under the public guise of a simple, friendly hug. Colton felt the bum ride up and down against the stiffening ebony pole in his leather joggers, it had the effect Liam was hoping for.
Whispering barely audible in Colton’s ear, “Can we... I mean... I think I should help you relieve some tension. Just a quickie. I need to taste it again.”
• A tasting of what’s to cum.
Colt twisted his head in a silent, stunned surprise. Looking intently at the monster he had created. And Liam was shocked back to reality as he heard the ding of the deep fryer. The snacks got plated and served. And so was Ryder. The joggers’ stretchiness couldn’t hide the boner much longer, anyway. Colt and Nemo exchanged a knowing dirty look in passing.
Ryder, too, needed to be served. And since Maurits was busy – with handing out the deep-fried halftime snacks – Liam would have to do.
Ryder gripped Liam’s lower back, pushing him instantly down the hall and into his dungeon playroom, slamming the door shut. The space reeked of leather and cum. Apparently, Colton Ryder had taken M’kumi for a ride last night, too.
“Gimme that mouth, little piece of white meat. And make sure it’s better than last night’s sloppy effort. Halftime, that’s all we got, boy. Get your nasty ass down here and make it snappy before I gotta go play the respectable host.”
Liam dropped to his knees before Master Colt. Colton’s jogger cords got pulled loose, and the elastic waistband got scraped down below the huge ebony nuts. The nine-incher, already stiff, sprang free, slamming audibly against his belly.
“A’ight, listen up, bitch. You gon’ get this done right, ya hear? Your hole took the load straight up last night. I gotta say me was impressed. But you still gotta learn how ta suck me, dawg. All da way down ya throat. You ain’t earnin’ squat with that beginner shit. You gotta earn the next round of stuffing down your pretty white neck, and I need my nuts drained. Now get down there and get to workin’ on the whole damn meat!”
Moore registered the renewed, street-wise drawl of Master Colt. Liam immediately leaned forward, but hesitated. His mind flashed back to the clumsy, rushed oral encounter with Blake, and his only other reference point was the single awkward blowjob he’d given Colton right after being unplugged last night. He knew his technique was clumsy, based only on porn, not real instruction. Looking up with unsure, wide eyes, he recognized the sheer weight of expectation from the thug who towered over him.
Colton gripped Liam’s chin, forcing his gaze up to meet his own. “Yo, listen up, boy. This ain’t no damn fast-food burger. This is a five-star, full-course meal, and you gotta savor that shit. Get that tongue out. Spit on it, then work that mouth. Both tongue and lips. Start licking right under the head, gently. Don’t waste my time just sucking; you worship this, first.”
Liam immediately shifted his focus. The instructions were clear enough, and he was ready to try this. His tongue darted out to trace the slick, velvet-smooth underside of the massive, leaky glans. He ran the tip of his tongue along the underside of the head, holding the enormous ebony shaft with both hands. Focusing purely on worship and taste, determined to prove he was a fast learner and a worthwhile piece of meat.
“Mmm, fuck yeah!... Ohh... Ahh... That’s it! Good, little whore! You got the right touch, but go deeper under the crown. Now pull that skin back slow. Show me you appreciate the flavor, motherfucker,” Colton commanded, his voice a tight, demanding rasp.
Every filthy, demanding word washed over Moore, intensifying his rush. He loved the sound of Master Colt talking dirty to him. Lee worshiped the thick dong, letting the sweaty shaft’s musk and his saliva mix. By the primal, guttural moans that Colt released, Liam knew he was on the right path.
“Ooh, God! You keep that throat loose, little bitch, ’cause tonight, we’re gonna fill it fuller than a deep fryer. But right now? You gonna clean the chef’s spoon, and you gonna tell me how good my thick, black dick tastes, ya hear me? Tell me you want my nut! Fuck I am nearly there! Ahh!”
“I love it, sir. It’s so fucking huge. C’mon, let me have the cum.”
Liam’s inexperience was melting away under the brutal force of the command and the sheer size of the reward in his hands. He took the head deeply, his eyes wide and watering. Colton groaned, “Wriggle da tongue over my shaft and round da head... Take me deeper... Fuck Yeah... Da’s it... Keep going. Suck me off. Yeah, dat’s better, ya dirty little cunt! Finish that dessert! Up and down. Suck me, bro. Tonight we’ll continue your... umm... Education. Blow me hard. Fuck yeah. Do it, or I’ll ram it down ya throat.”
Startled, Liam pulled off the cock to take a steadying breath. He wasn’t going to let anyone rape his throat. That much was sure.
Colton saw his shock and said, “Only words, bro. You nearly there. Suck me dry, man. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Promis. You’re doing fine. Mighty fine. Ya like it... Don’t you, Lee?”
Liam nodded and got back on the fuck stick. He smelled and tasted so nice. And Colton did not hold back either. Moore was about to get stuffed like a glazed donut with cream filling.
Ryder moaned as Liam went back down on him. Taking the dick deeper than before. Keeping eye contact with the man towering over him. A few minutes passed. Colton did not say much, moaned a lot as his nasty grunts became more obsessive. His grip tightened, and Lee gave him total control. The movements became harsh and purely primal. Almost unbearable. Transforming from a casual blowjob into a savage act of deep throating. All nine and a bit inches went down the pipe in search of release. Colton’s hips hammered Liam’s head against the wall, feeding the cock deeper and faster, ensuring the boy’s mouth was not just sucking, but entirely engulfed in ebony man-meat.
Colton erupted, holding the back of Liam’s head as firmly as if he were clutching a sweaty leather Wilson football. He thrust his hips forward, filling the boy’s mouth to the point of overflow. The thick, warm cream gushed forth, spilling over Liam’s lips and down his chin. Desperate to contain the evidence, Liam grabbed his kitchen towel from the cords of his apron and frantically pressed it to his mouth, trying to blot the spill while still swallowing the torrent. Enjoying the taste of Colt’s man-juice. Not as ample as last night. But still a good creamy shot glass full.
A moment later, Colton pulled free of Liam’s lips. He adjusted his leather joggers and opened the soundproof door a crack. The roar of the TV was already signaling the end of the break. He gave Liam a harsh, appreciative slap on the cheek. “Clean up, and get upstairs! Halftime is nearly over.” Liam, his face still slick with the remaining cream, swallowed quickly, used the towel one last time to swipe his chin clean, just as Maurits M’Kumi could be heard asking, “Colt, are you alright, sweet? The game is starting.”
“Coming, Nemo. Needed a toilet break,” Ryder called up the stairs.
Colt looked down at a winded and flabbergasted Liam Moore. He slapped the twink’s face and left without a word of praise. Not quite the ending Lee had imagined, but the intense satisfaction was complete.
• The family meal.
The Thanksgiving feast began around four PM. The dining room and kitchen were filled to breaking point, but for Liam, the table felt like a warm, secure fortress. Mama Dee spoke to him with genuine interest about his studies. She kept urging him to eat more – the unconditional warmth he craved.
Professor M’Kumi, now in a flawless brown tweed dinner jacket, was the perfect dinner guest, charming the elder Ryders with precise, academic conversation. The gold earring was the only subtle reminder of his true nature. Colton, conversely, was entirely relaxed, using his ‘proper English’ all afternoon.
Beneath the long linen tablecloth, however, the atmosphere was electrically charged. Colton’s free hand was dangerously close to Maurits’s manhood, tracing subtle, controlling circles on the professor’s inner thigh – a silent, proprietary announcement of ownership. Liam and Blake exchanged nervous, knowing glances, the anticipation of the night to come far more exciting than the perfectly cooked turkey and stuffing.
When Grandpa Ryder made a pointed comment about college students lacking respect for authority, his gaze landed on Liam. Before Liam could feel judged, Mama Dee intervened, patting his hand gently. “Oh, don’t you worry about Liam, Daddy. He’s a good, hardworking boy. He’s a comfort to have around. We should be thankful for friends like these.”
The quick defense melted Liam’s tension. Maurits, catching Colton’s silent instruction despite Mama Dee’s defense, simply smiled and said, “Sir, Respect must always be earned through competence. But once earned, it should be given completely.”
When Mama Dee asked Liam about his plans for the spring semester, Colton interjected smoothly: “Liam’s just fine, Mama. We’ve given the boys a lot to think about lately. They’re still processing some of the new educational material.”
The deliberate double entendre caused Blake to freeze. Liam, emboldened by the safe space Mama Dee created, simply offered Colton a glass of water, brushing the Master’s knuckles – a small, private act of defiance that went unnoticed by the rest of the family.
As the main course was cleared, Maurits excused himself to help with dessert. Colton then turned to Liam and Blake, his public tone shifting to a conspiratorial whisper so only they could hear:
“The dishes and the clean-up are for the rest later. You two have a different duty tonight. Be ready by eleven. I’ll send Maurits to get you. I want you both cleaned out, lubed, and eager for more when he calls.”
The direct command was the final, thrilling seal on the day.
• The talk.
Liam knew something was wrong the moment they left the dining table to sit in the living room with the remaining guests and family members. He tried to engage Blake in conversation but ended up nowhere fast. Around ten, Liam suggested to Blake, “Damn, I reek. This was a fun day. I am going up for a shower.”
As he reached the hallway, Lee looked over his shoulder at Blake. The man finally got the hint and stepped away, following his buddy to his bedroom. Not for a shower but a talk.
Blake’s bedroom door got slammed rather more aggressively than the ebony twink had intended. Blurting out, “Hey! Back up, homie! Did you hear Colt correctly? He said you two. He said ‘clean out and lube up’ – that means both of us! What the hell did you tell him?” Blake’s voice was a tight, frantic whisper, his eyes darting around the room and back to Lee.
Lee peeled off the bomber jacket, laying it carefully on the fold-out cot.
“Blake, I am taking that shower and prepping myself. This is the thing that might break my inhibitions, and I’m going to join them regardless of what you do. No hard feelings, bro, but you gotta decide for yourself. You were curious about this gay thing called life, right? This is the VIP pass. Don’t chicken out.”
Blake replied frantically, “I said I was curious about sex with you, Liam, not both of them! I don’t want my brother’s dominant, big black cock anywhere near me, Lee! I’m not a freak like that. I thought I could watch, maybe. But I’m not volunteering to be mounted by him, or by them, like some anonymous whore.” Blake looked genuinely terrified, leaning against the cold wall.
“I can respect you not wanting to do it with a family member, Blake. But I am there too, and so is Maurits. Look, I took Colton last night – I survived. He’s big, yeah, but he’s a Master, not a monster. If you join in, I’m sure they’ll go easy on you. It’s about trust and communication. Like we did last night. And you and I have until Christmas to figure this out, right?”
“You really going to... with them?” Blake asked, surprised by Liam’s confidence.
“Well, yeah. Might as well learn from the best, man. Besides,...” Liam added, his voice dropping, “... he’s not gonna let us watch. He orders, we serve. But we do it together.”
Liam calmly began unbuttoning Colton’s shirt. Putting on a bathrobe.
“It is up to you, Blake. But no one will force you to do anything you don’t want to do – I’ll make sure of that. If you come, you’ll be safe. At least let’s shower. Whatever bed we end up in.”
He wasn’t sure he had convinced the introvert Blake. But Liam Moore wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this.
Moore took a towel and his shaving kit to the shower, but before he locked the door, Blake scurried in too. Bringing a smile to his face.
“I am doing this for you, man. But I am fucking nervous,” Blake whispered breathlessly. “I am not saying I will go down to Colt’s room...” Blake stopped talking as both twinks got naked in the shower.
“I understand, bro.”
After a quick rinse and a shave, the men went back to Blake’s room.
• The calm before the storm.
Liam draped the supple leather bomber jacket back over his shoulders. But lay starkers on his cot. Stroking the limp meat to life. Blake just crawled onto his side under the blankets. Watching his best friend jack off. The silence, after the frantic whisper of their argument, was oddly calming.
Blake observed Liam for another minute, the fear in his eyes slowly softening into nervous curiosity. “You know, you look good in that jacket,” Blake finally whispered, his voice shaky but honest. “Like, you can actually pull off being one of those biker guys. It makes you look so damn self-assured.”
Liam stopped stroking his cock completely, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face as he looked directly at his buddy. “Thanks, homie. That means a lot coming from you.”
“But seriously,” Blake continued, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “What’s with the leather thing? I mean, I know Colton wears it, but you’re acting like you just found your new religion, Lee. And I’m still trying to figure out how to get my own cock hard knowing what my brother does to guys.”
Liam let out a slow, heavy breath and put his hand down, his erection already starting to subside with the pause.
“It’s always been my thing, man. That whole tough-guy, alpha vibe. I thought I wasn’t tough enough to deserve the look.”
He ran a hand over the jacket sleeve. “But Blake... Colton proved me wrong in one forty-minute session. He didn’t just fuck me; he gave me that confidence booster I needed. He made me feel tough. Like I’m capable of taking whatever he dishes out. And listen, this bomber jacket is dope, but the one I really love? That classic, heavy black biker jacket Colton always wears. I wonder how expensive those things are.”
Blake grinned nastily, watching Liam’s ‘limp meat’ spring back to life. “And Blake, the sex... I know you’re nervous about ‘other men,’ but it was better than with all the girls I ever dated, and better than all the porn I’ve watched. It’s like my body finally understood what it was built for. That kind of intensity, that obedience... that’s my path, man. And I need to take it.”
Blake swallowed hard, considering the intensity in Liam’s eyes. He didn’t look like the same scared kid who was constantly worried about his family’s judgment. He looked empowered.
It took Blake a few minutes to process, but in the end, he concluded, “Nah. I think you’d better go on without me. You can tell me about it afterward.”
“Well, if you do change your mind, finger your ass with some lube, throw on some easy clothes, and join us.”
Liam wasn’t at all surprised by the change of heart.
• Starting a Thanksgiving afterparty.
Maurits M’Kumi quietly knocked on Blake’s bedroom door exactly at 11:00 PM. Liam Moore was ready: ass pre-lubed, leather bomber over a bare chest, tracksuit bottom, and polished boots. Going commando felt like the right choice.
With an approving grunt, Nemo kissed Lee full on the mouth. But when he looked over at Blake, Liam said, “Blake is still making up his mind. He wants to try some regular sex. We can start with a simpler lesson for him.” The professor smiled. “Not to worry, B. We were just going to try for some regular group sex amongst friends. It’s part of your queer education.”
Liam privately agreed; his ass was grateful for a night off after Master Colt’s heavy domination.
Maurits stepped over to Blake’s crib. He whipped out his ringed black dick and pointed it at Blake’s mouth. The golden cockring seemed to intrigue Blake. By squeezing the six-inch shaft, Nemo produced a pre-cum glob and let it slide onto Blake’s gasping lips. “Up to you what you do with it. But there is more where that came from, Lil’ bro.”
Blake’s mouth, driven by curiosity, softly closed around the mahogany tool for a taste. As Nemo pulled back, he bent over and whispered a private message into Blake’s ear; it magically put the dirtiest grin on the younger man’s face.
Arriving in Colton’s playroom, the man was already lying on the bed, a softcore movie playing. Colt wore only crotchless shorts and a biceps strap – a friendly, inviting contrast to last night’s full leather gear.
Liam crawled onto the leather-covered bed, shedding his boots and joggers. Naked Nemo – in his half-body harness and golden cockring – followed moments later. The two older men instantly started to kiss, lick, and grope Liam. The boy murmured hotly, finding the titillating experience unexpectedly exciting.
Nemo twirled around, hovering his ringed dong above the boy’s face. As Liam latched on, Maurits reciprocated. This first 69 was heavenly, but Maurits suddenly rolled the boy on top. He needed his student to take control. Liam lost balance and stuffed his seven-inch college dick straight into Nemo’s throat. Nemo didn’t mind; he craved the accidental brutality.
Moore pulled out to check if M’Kumi was okay. However, Colt shoved Liam right back in, pushing on Lee’s buttocks. Ryder started a relentless tempo. Liam knew if this lasted too long, he would cum quickly, teaching the English teacher to swear in seven languages.
Colton stopped and let go. Relieved, Liam sat back down, watching as Ryder grabbed his gasping sub and yanked his body back. Forcing M’Kumi’s head down over the edge of the bed to brutally throat-fuck him.
Moore’s mouth fell open, watching the Master insert inch after inch without remorse. Colt grinned brutally at Liam as he pumped his man’s throat, pausing occasionally to let Nemo catch his breath.
Ryder pulled the college freshman in close and tongued him dearly before wheezing between breaths, “Damn, Lil’ bro, ya slicked him up nicely for me. We should tag team more often.” Colton Ryder ordered, “Take dat ass. Let’s spit roast this pig.”
Liam wasn’t sure at first, but when he saw Maurits lift his legs and spread his ass, he knew he had permission to do his worst.
“Me bet ya wanna’ take Blake like dis? Don’t you, Lee?” gasped Master Colt.
“Wat? Skull-fuck ’im? Nah, man, he ain’t ready for that fire yet. But yeah, I tapped that shit last night, ain’t no doubt,” said Liam in a good attempt at street talking.
Both Ryder and M’Kumi looked momentarily surprised but buckled over in laughter. Colt banging his fist on the mattress, Maurits gasping for air. The professor had swallowed his own puke at Liam’s remark.
“What?...” uttered Liam in stunned surprise.
When Colt found his voice, he gasped between sputtering laughs, “Damn, bro, you sounded blacker than most gangsta’ thugs. I think I am rubbin’ off on ya.”
Liam laughed, quickly retorting, “Grose! Me ain’t no M’Cummy sock to catch dat puddin’.”
“A++,” Maurits managed, wiping his mouth. “Keep this up and you’re well on your way to becoming a master yourself, Liam,” added the professor confidently.
• Enter stage left: Blake.
Laughing fit to burst, the men had not noticed Blake slide quietly into Colton’s playspace. Blake muttered, “Wha... What are you guys laughing about?”
Liam jumped off the bed and rushed to hug his friend, swiftly pulling him toward the leather-covered bed. Maurits was pleased by the late arrival and patted the mattress, enticing the clothed Blake to join beside him.
Breathing hotly, “We bottoms need to stick together, B,” Maurits whispered, letting the weary man rest his head against his arm. Blake settled beside him, his gaze falling on the gleaming golden cockring and the leather harness straps Maurits wore over his upper torso.
Blake just looked at him and sighed. Letting his free hand wander over the leather harness of Nemo. But looking in stunned surprise at the prancing black cock of the professor.
Nemo joked that it was his “engagement ring” from Colton, easier to hide than a wedding ring. When Blake sheepishly asked how he put it on, Maurits deadpanned, “One ball at a time... but only when it is soft. Or it won’t fit.”
Blake paused, bewildered, realizing the professor was intentionally misunderstanding him. Frustrated, Blake clarified, “The harness! Why do you wear this leather harness?”
Maurits answered quietly, positioning it as a lesson: “It gives me a sense of security... and it gives Colt a place to hang on. It’s damned sexy, don’t you think, boy?”
Blake swallowed hard, a rush of unexpected heat flooding his face. “It’s incredible,” he breathed out, conviction hardening his voice. He looked straight at his dominant brother. “Colt, do you have something I can try on?”
Liam, meanwhile, was impatient, grinding heavily on Colt as if the lull in sex was boring him to death. Colton smacked Blake’s ass in triumph.
“Me knew it...” Ryder shouted triumphantly, assuming his brother was ready for bondage.
Liam instantly surged up, shoving Colt’s hand away. Liam’s voice was sharp, edged with unexpected anger. “You don’t know anything! You think your dominance is the only option. Wanting to try on leather gear does not mean you dictate Blake’s choice!”
Liam took a breath, his anger morphing into focus. “Look, man, I’m sorry, but give the man some gear. Then we can get back to fucking. I am going to fuck your ass. Blake can do your man; then we can switch.”
Colton laughed, jokingly interrupting Lee. “Ha... I am not doing my brother.”
“No, of course not,” Liam agreed, his voice stern. “... But I want to see Maurits do you. And I want Lil’ bro to take control of me, Rough, hard, and fast. I think the three of us can teach him how to top – give him the confidence booster you gave me last night.”
Master Colt had to mull that one over for a moment. Feeling impressed and a little annoyed at Moore.
It was a mark of respect that neither Blake nor Maurits protested. Colton, however, struggled with the idea of being topped by a college freshman.
Liam poked a warning finger at Colton’s chest, the disgust in the Master’s eyes clear. “This ‘sleepover’ was supposed to be educational, right? Well, you CAN teach an old dog new tricks, buster! Do you have stuff Blake and I can try on, Master?”
• A new way of looking at it.
Colton let out a heavy sigh, the disgust in his eyes momentarily replaced by a grudging admiration for Liam’s sheer audacity. He looked from his brother, who was now clutching Maurits’s cockring in mesmerized silence, to the professor, who just shrugged, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Fine. Fine, ya lil’ terrorist,” Colt finally conceded, his voice raspy. He reached over to a trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled out a rolled-up pile of black leather straps and chrome fittings – a full-body harness.
“If he’s going to top, he needs to understand what it means to be held. A lesson in empathy, if you will.”
Liam grinned, his entire body tightening with excitement. He immediately went to Blake, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the center of the room.
“Strip, Blake. You need to feel the tight leather belts against your skin,” Liam explained, his voice firm.
Blake, still hypnotized by the sudden shift in power, obeyed without a word, quickly shedding his clothes. Colt and Liam moved in, their hands working together efficiently. They slid the harness over Blake’s shoulders, buckling the kinky black straps across his chest and thighs. The leather smelled strongly of sweat and sex. It was constricting, forcing Blake to stand straighter and breathe shallower.
Colton held his brother tight as Liam bent down to work the last strap and cockring over the shaft and nuts. Blake was a little hard already. So Liam flicked a mean finger harshly against the frenulum. The effect was instant. Blake gasped in genuine pain, wanting to drop to the floor. But his brother held the boy upright. Liam just looked up at the angry brown eyes and nudged first one, then the other black ball through the ring. Pushing the now limp rod inside the tight gap between the chrome ring and the leather strap.
Maurits helped to adjust the ring and smooth out the skin folds. Both Liam and he moved forward in unison. Engaging the twinks’ ebony dick between their lips. Blake rested his head on Colt’s vast chest and reached back to feel the thick dick of his equally massive brother. By now, Blake was floating ten inches above the shagpile floor. The leather harness compressed his body. His brother started playing with his nipples. A dripping wet cock in his hand and four lips, two tongues, and God knows how many fingers prodding and poking.
Heck, the entire thought of fear had vanished from Blake’s brain. He would have given his whole body to the three to do with what they liked. This was a totally new way of looking at it. Blake twisted free and started to kiss Colt. Maurits took some spit-lubed fingers and worked them inside the boy. And Liam began to rummage in Colt’s toy box. He found himself a half-body harness, thin police gloves, and a baseball cap. Liam completed the look with the same leather chaps he wore yesterday.
• The redirection.
Liam broke the heavy patting up and directed Maurits back to the bed. Ordering him to sit on all fours at the corner. Grabbing the paddle from the tote that Master Colt had used on him. Handing it to his best friend. Reluctantly, he took it. Not sure what to do or where to stand. Colt Ryder had a good idea what was going on in Moore’s brain. He wanted his Lil’ bro to dominate Maurits.
“Blake, now that you know what it feels like to be confined, you’re ready to inflict some sexual pain and pleasure. Don’t be gentle. I guess Maurits likes it to sting a little. After you’re done, stick that dick in that hole and... umm... punish him some more. Feel me?”
Blake looked at Colton as if to ask his permission. Master Colt said to Liam, “Since you’re such a brilliant teacher now, why don’t you instruct him on the three cardinal rules of topping?”
Liam grinned, his entire body tightening with excitement. He grabbed Blake’s hand, placing the paddle into his palm. Using the object to smack it against Maurits’s black ass. Not hard, but hard enough to elicit a giddy response from the 38-year-old bottom.
“Okay, Lil’ bro, listen up. This is the lesson plan.” Said the new Professor, Mr. Moore, to Student Blake.
The Three Rules
- Rule One: The Question Is for Authority. “Never ask ‘May I?’ or ‘Is this okay?’ You tell your bottom what you are doing. If you want to use a paddle, whip, or belt, you say, ‘bent-over for me, now.’ If you want to use your dick, you say, ‘Open for me, now.’ You command. You don’t request. If he doesn’t follow, you make him. That’s the difference between a master and a man.”
- Rule Two: The Bottom’s Only Job is to Take. “Your bottom is a canvas, Blake. His pleasure is irrelevant. Your pleasure is the only thing that matters. You take. You grab. You use. But don’t be mean. He is there to serve your needs. If he squirms, you hold him tighter. If he screams, you go deeper. You don’t stop until you are finished.”
- Rule Three: The Safe Word is for Safety, Not Preference. “If Maurits says ‘Yellow’ – that means ‘Slow down, it’s too much for the moment.’ If he says ‘Red’ – that means ‘Stop now, I’m in genuine distress.’ If he says anything else, he’s just being a dramatic bitch. Don’t stop. Don’t ask. Punish. Just focus on your pleasure and your control. Got it?”
Where Liam Moore got the knowledge – or, for that matter, the sheer audacity – he did not know. But by the look on Master Colt’s face, he knew this was correct.
Blake looked down at the leather paddle in his hand, then at the professor’s rump, who nodded encouragingly. The bewilderment was gone, replaced by a fierce, focused intensity.
“I… I got it,” Blake whispered, a low growl under his breath.
“Good,” Liam said, his voice husky. “Have at it then. Dominate and penetrate, like there’s no tomorrow.” Hearing the paddle hit the mark, time and time again. Getting inspired and stopping a few times to kiss Maurits’s booty. Licking and spitting at the man’s back door in the process.
Moore then turned to Colton, grabbed the Master’s massive cock, and pulled the man’s head close, kissing him with a possessive ferocity. “Now, Colton, let’s see how well your ass takes instructions from me.”
Liam threw Colt onto his back, lifting his ass in the air. “Want to feel me fill that black hole... Sir?” Moore stopped himself, a laugh catching in his throat, unsure if he should call Ryder a bitch, whore, or stick with Master.
• Flip fucking around.
Colton Ryder was already on his back. The thug-ish Master almost never bottomed, and he was unsure about letting Liam Moore live out his topping fantasy. But once Lee’s twinky dick was past the outer barrier, and Colt’s legs were hoisted over the boy’s shoulders, there was no stopping the two.
Behind them, on the other side of the bed, Blake found something he never thought he was going to experience: a man – almost twice his age – willingly taking every inch Blake shoved into him. Nemo took his pleasure with Liam and Colt, too, but Maurits’s focus was on serving his new Master. Heck, Blake even helped his brother to clean his cummy dick. To the surprise of all three, Blake had lost a lot more than just his introverted inhibitions. He was eager to please the men. Even his brother. But stopped short when Colt offered to ‘make it fit’.
It was well past two AM when, finally spent and exhausted, the four men pulled the leather duvet over their almost naked bodies. Too exhausted to even wash. Lee pulled Blake to his side, and Maurits rested his head on Master Colt’s heaving chest. This was an education and a half. Thought Liam, as he drifted off to sleep.
• The New Assignment.
The four men lay tangled on the wet leather bed, the air thick with sweat and satisfied exhaustion. Liam was the first to move, stirring as the sun rose above the hill. He slid off the stinky bed and waddled to the bathroom. Colton followed a few minutes later.
“Was that what you needed, terror?” he asked.
“Hell yeah, that was a little something something. Wasn’t it?”
Colton didn’t answer. He just gave the college freshmen a bear hug. Tugging on the erection that had sprung to life.
Colton reached out and squeezed the back of Liam’s neck, a proud, possessive grin stretching his lips. “You passed the test, terror. You and my little brother both. That was the best lesson plan I’ve ever seen.”
Back in the bedroom, they watched Blake and Maurits in discussion about last night’s events as well.
Maurits was helping the boy undo the harness. Giving the twinks’ morning wood some attention in the process. Blake stared at Maurits, a look of stunned revelation on his face. “Professor... you let me... You were actually... Do you really like it that rough?”
Maurits gave a deep, throaty chuckle, running a hand over Blake’s hair. “I served your needs, Master Blake. Obedience is a powerful pleasure, as you now know. Come on, let’s shower. We stink.”
Colton sat up, his tone immediately shifting back to the commanding Master: “Good. Now the lesson is over, but the duty isn’t. Liam, you aren’t going home until Christmas, and we have a lot more material to cover before then. Gawd, I fuckin’ love ya ass, terror.”
He looked at Liam, his eyes sharp. “Today, we take this new confidence outside. You’ll be wearing those chaps, pup, you will wear a padded chain collar. You’re owned now.”
Liam’s pulse sped up again. “Outside?”
When Maurits and Blake came back from their much-needed shower, Colton Ryder announced, “It’s Black Friday, gentlemen. The world is chaotic, and we’re going shopping for everything a growing queer needs. We need to break in your new leather for a little public cruising. The true lesson in obedience is serving your Masters when the whole world is watching.”
“Nemo, get these men ready for a day out. Shopping, drinking, and cruising. Let’s show them the sights and get them some gear. I’ll tell Mama Dee not to wait up for us,” said Ryder.
The command was final, replacing the sexual tension with thrilling, public anticipation. The initiation was over; the training had just begun.
• Continued in part 3 of 3 •
Thank you for reading this story.
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And if your hands are not too dirty from all the spilled cum! 😋
© StrykerJ - Thanksgiving 2025
