Backstory
At 20, Jake was a late starter at university. His original single gap year had extended to two and a half years as he explored his youth to its fullest extent. An exceptionally gifted ice hockey player, he almost skated before he could walk. From his early teens, his talent, natural skill, and the unending praise of others, had gone to his head. As a result, he took what he wanted and utterly believed he deserved it.
His entitlement extended well beyond the ice. In matters of sex, he used the guys he bedded as toys, tools to get off and little more than holes to be filled. Aggressive and dominating, he had become a genuine bastard to all he fucked.
His world turned the afternoon he toured the campus of Valley Nights University. He had no intention of attending the mid-tier school, but thought it would improve his scholarship chances in Anaheim, CA, if they knew he was considering all offers. Cory Jackson, the school’s football MVP captain, had volunteered to show him around.
During the tour, Cory revealed his true self. He explained that he knew Jake had been rough-fucking his little brother, Josh, and he had the footage to prove it.
Faced with Cory’s blackmail, Jake instantly knew he would be attending Valley Nights. He was destined to become a sex slave to the brothers and would be doing it for as long as they commanded. There was more to the extortion, but regardless, he was trapped like a deer in headlights.
At the end of Chapter One, Cory had fucked Jake relentlessly. For the would-be freshman, the pain and humiliation were almost unbearable. The story closed with Jake being dragged to Cory’s frat house room, and told to sexually satisfy Josh in every way the younger sibling wanted. At stake was the real possibility that Jake would have to surrender his summer, laboring under unending dick.
What follows is how it all worked out.
Chapter 2
The night I was left to satisfy Josh’s most unbridled desires, was the single worst night of sex I had ever had.
My arse was already torn from Cory’s attack. If I had expected this to slow Josh, I would have been bitterly disappointed. The guy went to town and fucked me every way he could think of. He showed zero mercy.
Within a few hours I was completely red raw. Smudges of blood were starting to line his cock; they meant nothing to him. I’m convinced he was loaded with Viagra. He never softened. As if in a daze, he switched between raping my throat and raping my hole.
As the night wore on, my body began to fail. My legs trembled. My arms struggled to hold me up. Mentally I progressed from disbelief and confusion through to ‘unhinged’ and finally ‘delirious’. My mind shifted to survival mode.
At some point I’m sure he tried to fist me. I had never felt such sustained pain in all my years.
The next morning, I felt as if I’d been hit by a truck.
I dragged myself toward consciousness and realised I was sprawled sideways across my new slave bed. My throat had never been as dry or sore. Josh was passed out on Cory’s bed. He was utterly exhausted and it showed.
I gathered some of my clothes and went looking for a bathroom.
When I stood, the room spun. For a moment I thought I was going to faint. Pain shot through my lower body, sharp and overwhelming. I had to brace myself against the wall and breathe slowly. It took nearly ten minutes before I could move.
I found a used towel, wrapped it around my waist, and stepped into the passage with my jeans and T-shirt in hand.
Turning left, I almost collided with a naked guy who was clearly coming back from the bathroom. He smelled freshly scrubbed.
“Whoa man,” he said grabbing me by the shoulders to steady my stumble. “You look wrecked dude.”
“Bathroom?” I croaked as a question after taking a moment to regain my stability.
“End of the hall man. Take a left, can’t miss it.”
I mumbled thanks and staggered in the direction he’d indicated.
I must have been out of it. His body was fantastic and I’d barely noticed.
I had the large multi-stall bathroom to myself.
When I sat on the toilet, I held the towel to my mouth and screamed into it. The pain was unbearable. My body shook until it passed.
When I was done, I pushed myself up on trembling legs and made for the showers. Sweat covered my body.
Six shower roses lined a long white tiled wall at the far end of the facilities. White shower curtains could be drawn to create six mini booths, but they looked like they hadn’t been used in years. The curtains were tangled and half torn from their rails.
I didn’t bother with them. I just stepped under the nearest shower and turned the water on.
At first it ran cold. I drank greedily.
My stomach immediately revolted. I vomited and watched helplessly as the remnants were washed down the drain.
A minute later I tried again. This time I sipped slowly and managed to keep it down.
Gradually the water warmed. Life crept back into my battered frame. Ten minutes later the steam-filled spray had eased the worst of the pain.
I took a handful of body wash from the wall-mounted dispenser and scrubbed myself from head to toe. I wanted to wash the night away.
It was hopeless.
The reality returned quickly. I was trapped in a fucked-up situation with no way out. Fear crept back into my chest and settled there.
The bathroom door clanged open.
Another naked guy walked in. Apparently, no one in the frat house felt clothing was necessary, at least in the mornings. The guy had the solid build of a football player. He looked up and did a double take when he realised, he didn’t recognise me.
“Tony,” he said reaching out his hand.
“Jake.” I replied, returning his firm grip.
“You moving in?” he asked.
I nodded. Inside, the realisation settled deeper. My fate sealed.
“Welcome then.”
I turned off the shower and reached for my towel.
“Thanks,” I said. “See you around.”
He nodded. I left.
When I returned to Cory’s room, Josh was still deep asleep.
His naked body was spread-eagle across the bed. His flaccid but still ample meat hung down and slightly to the left.
I didn’t know what to do.
Cory had said before he left the night before that I had to satisfy all of Josh’s desires. If I hadn’t, I was about to lose my summer break. I knew instinctively that if I left without finding out, I would definitely lose.
So, I sat at the desk and waited.
Fifty minutes later Cory arrived back from his overnight adventures.
“Slave,” he acknowledged as he closed the door behind himself.
“Master.” I replied simply, quietly and painfully. I still couldn’t believe what had happened.
He walked across to the bed and took his brother’s nuts in his grip. He squeezed.
Josh squealed and jerked upright.
“Cory!” Josh whined attempting to free himself.
Cory maintained his hold, pulling the boy to his feet almost by his nuts alone.
Josh staggered upright.
“You don’t sit on furniture in this room boy,” Cory said gruffly. “Why are you wearing clothes?”
I slid from the chair and dropped to my knees. My day-old T-shirt came over my head. I began working on my jeans.
Cory turned back to his brother.
“How was Slave last night? Does he get to keep his summer, or is he back here next week?”
“Nah, I had a great night. I fucked him every way I could think of. I ended up so spent I just collapsed. I’ve never cum so many times in one night, thanks for the pill.”
“Well Slave, looks like you’re a quick learner.”
He moved to the desk and began rummaging through a stack of papers. Ten seconds later he found what he was looking for. Three stapled pages.
“Here are your instructions. You will be here the last week in August, ready and prepped for your new life.”
I had stumbled to my feet to finish removing my jeans. I stood there holding the papers.
Without warning he reached out and grabbed my nuts.
I gasped.
His grip tightened.
“You will do everything on the list in preparation. You will not bother us over the break we have given to you as a gift. Do you understand Slave?”
“Yes Master.” I replied.
“Good, now get the fuck out of my sight.”
His hand crushed down hard.
White-hot pain exploded through my crotch. My brain caught up seconds later. My knees gave out and I collapsed to the floor.
He headed for the door.
I barely had time to react before he grabbed my hair and dragged me out into the passage. Every nerve in my body screamed.
He glanced around and grabbed a pair of jean cut-offs, my wallet, phone and car keys. He threw them out the door after me. They bounced across the floor and scattered.
Then the door slammed shut.
Suddenly I was alone.
I crouched there for a moment, breathing hard and fighting the urge to vomit again.
While I recovered two naked guys wandered down the hall toward the bathroom.
“Dude, you’re fucked”, the first one said.
He had no idea.
The second guy appeared a few minutes later. He took one look at me, shook his head and kept walking.
Eventually I managed to stand.
The cut-offs were three sizes too small. Cory had thrown me Josh’s pants. There was no way I was knocking on that door to ask for my jeans back.
I struggled into them anyway. The top button barely closed.
My arse crack screamed under the pressure. It felt like I was being split in two by a wedgie from hell. My already aching balls were crushed again.
I gathered my belongings and the papers and went looking for my car.
Ten minutes later—after one of the most embarrassing walks of my life—I reached the parking lot.
Luckily the campus was quiet, even for a Friday.
I slid into the driver’s seat and immediately started unbuttoning the tiny cut-offs. My bruised balls couldn’t stand the pressure any longer.
I sat there for several minutes, trying to collect my thoughts.
Then I started the car. I drove home.
I had no other clothes with me and, given my situation, no other education options.
I would be attending Valley Nights College.
My NHL dreams were finished.
A nightmare had replaced them.
*
Arriving home unexpectedly, dressed in tiny cut-offs that barely contained my junk, caused my parents to freak. I fobbed them off with an explanation that it was just a frat initiation. Initially, the thought I’d been hazed freaked them out even more. I couldn’t stand it. I immediately sought the solace of bed. I needed to ease my physical and mental exhaustion.
The pain in my throat and arse peaked over the weekend. It was mind-blowingly bad. I had never experienced anything like it.
Two weeks later I was still mentally numb. How had my stellar life degenerated to this?
I sat in my room reviewing Cory’s instructions for the hundredth time. Over the past fortnight every prediction he had written down had come to pass.
The letter of program invite arrived from the Dean of Valley Nights College. I accepted their offer by return mail without a single condition modified. At least it was a full scholarship with a small weekly stipend. I wouldn’t starve or have to ask Mum and Dad to help out.
Offer letters also arrived from five other schools, including Anaheim, which had been my dream destination. As instructed, I turned them all down. I would be doing Sports Science at Valley. That was it.
My parents were shocked by my choice and it took some time to convince them I had a bigger plan. Eventually they looked into Valley’s reputation and were relieved to see it had high ratings, even if it lacked prestige.
It didn’t matter what they thought, or what I thought. I was going. I would be training as much as a slave, as a sports scientist.
My heart sank and stayed sunk as Valley’s acceptance letter slipped from my fingers into the post box.
For the rest of the summer break, I kept to myself, rarely leaving the house.
I had no sex except with my hand. My sex drive evaporated. The regular fuck buddies I used to visit and dominate called asking where I was. I fobbed them off.
Every night before bed I inserted a butt plug and slept with it until morning. Every fortnight I increased the size. Soon I had a collection of smaller plugs I never used anymore.
I also practiced deep-throating a dildo. Gradually I began losing my gag reflex. I didn’t even know that could happen.
The butt plug had been on Cory’s list, but he had specified using one only a week or two before I returned. I wanted to make sure I was well stretched before I went back. I never wanted pain like I’d experienced before.
Eventually I realised the plugs were just tools. I didn’t find them pleasurable, even the vibrating one. They did nothing for me.
At the halfway point of my break, I ticked off what I considered the biggest item on the list.
I was terrified, but what choice did I have?
I visited the most reputable tattoo parlor in the city. On the side it specialized in body piercing. On a quiet Thursday afternoon, I had a cock ring punched through my piss slit and out the underside of my meat. I fainted twice in the chair.
The pain was unbelievable. So was the amount of blood.
I walked out of the building with a widened gait, and an inch-and-a-half-diameter silver ring hanging from the end of my swollen knob. My earlobe throbbed and bled from the stretching earring it now contained.
I’d been permanently modified.
I was becoming someone else’s property.
Three weeks before I started at Valley, I began shaving everything below my chin. Body hair wasn’t permitted.
I was glad I started early. Learning the contortions required to shave my back and arse felt like a gymnastic exercise. It took weeks before I managed it properly.
Because I was so blonde, I originally thought I could get away with shaving once a week. The itching proved unbearable. Eventually I settled on twice weekly.
Six days before leaving, I clipped my skull down to a number-one buzz cut. It changed my appearance radically.
It was something I was going to have to get used to.
I never did.
*
When I arrived Sunday at the frat house, most of my luggage consisted of hockey gear. My actual clothes fit into a single small duffel bag. I was only permitted two sets: one to wear and one to wash.
Cory and Josh were there to greet me. Josh was on campus for the weekend, no doubt being fucked stupid by his brother.
The moment I was allowed into their room, I was ordered to strip for inspection.
Cory actually complimented me on presenting myself exactly as instructed. Like I had a choice.
He quickly focused on my cock ring, thumbing it to rotate one way and then the other. It spun freely now, having healed well. My knob was still slightly tender, but only if it was pulled.
“Do you have to piss sitting down?” he asked.
“Yes Master,” I replied.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, “all pussies should sit down to piss.”
“Yes Master,” I repeated.
Welcome to hell, I thought.
“Put this on,” he said, handing me a brown leather collar. “If you’re in this room this is always around your neck. Got it Slave?”
“Yes Master.”
Was I ever going to say anything else?
By mid-afternoon my gear was unpacked, and my car returned to the long-term campus parking area.
When I came back to the house, I found my master and his sidekick preparing to leave. Cory had to return Josh to their parents’ house and would be staying overnight. I would spend my first night alone in my new home.
“You have an appointment with Coach Reece,” Cory informed me. “He’ll see you at four to show you the ice rink and everything that goes with being on the team.”
“Yes Master,” I replied.
“He said he wants you and the team to join him at the hockey table for dinner. He’ll show you where. Don’t be late, do what he says. The rest of the time you stay in here and make sure you’re naked. Anyone comes to the door; you answer like normal. The guys will work it out quickly enough. They did last time.”
“Can I get head before we go?” asked Josh. “I haven’t unloaded all weekend. You’ve emptied your balls in me four or five times.”
“Stop whining. I don’t give a fuck about you getting off. My balls are the important ones here,” Cory replied.
“Yes Sir,” said Josh quietly, disappointed, his head down.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” huffed Cory. “Take its throat if you need it that bad.” He motioned toward me. “Make it quick. oum and Dad are expecting us by six.”
Josh stepped toward me. I dropped automatically to my knees.
He pushed his cock toward my face, instructing me to lick his balls, as hairless as mine.
Cory, it seemed, had two slaves, although I was clearly the one at the bottom.
I began tonguing his nuts while he worked his cock to steel. He groaned softly. His pent-up load would be huge.
He angled his meat toward my lips. I opened my mouth and accepted him.
He began gently, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way. His knob brushed the back of my throat. I tried to prepare for what was coming.
“Fuck, I need this. This whole thing is fantastic. Cory, you’re the man! You’ve thought of everything. World’s best set up.”
“Yep,” Cory nodded in self-congratulation. “We’re in for years of fucking pleasure.”
Years of hell, I thought.
As it turned out, all three of us were wrong.
*
The first three months of my new life were some of the most difficult I had ever experienced.
Every night I slept under Cory’s bed, breathing his farts with nauseating regularity. Once a week or so I ended up drinking his piss. The first few times he relieved himself I almost drowned. I had never done anything like it before, initially I simply couldn’t cope.
Eventually my sleep pattern adjusted. I began waking refreshed instead of exhausted.
The frat house had twenty-eight residents and an iron-clad code: what happens in the house stays in the house.
Before long they all knew the school’s newest hockey recruit was the football captain’s slave. None of them knew how Cory had managed to corner me, but my situation never leaked beyond those walls.
Within weeks of my arrival, being constantly naked and collared extended throughout the house, not just Cory’s room. Eventually no one batted an eyelid.
Being naked all the time turned out not to be such a big deal. Most of the guys spent a fair amount of time unclothed anyway. None of them wore collars like I did, but I genuinely enjoyed seeing all the high-end beef constantly on display.
Occasionally Cory instructed me to service another frat member. It was always oral, and usually payment for some favor he’d received. Sometimes it happened openly. More often it took place in our room.
Cory preferred saving me for his own enhanced sex drive.
Morning head became a daily expectation. Occasionally it extended to a quick throat-pounding during lunch break. Most weeks I was fucked eight to ten times and the majority were rough sessions. His cock pounded me relentlessly. I was manhandled and twisted to meet whatever position he wanted. My comfort was never considered.
I was simply a set of holes for him to use.
Once a month Josh visited. Those weekends were nightmares. Together they would fuck me relentlessly, Viagra-charged and without restraint. Every time I ended up bleeding and needed the better part of a week to recover. The bruises lasted just as long.
Hockey became my one pure relief.
I quickly found my place on the team, and soon proved the most skilled player in the squad. In a complete change from who I used to be, I never bragged and always credited our wins to team effort. Despite being the highest goal scorer by a mile, I stayed in the background as much as possible.
Twice in my first year, I refused the team captaincy.
The locker rooms became true bonding spaces. I had never felt as accepted as I did inside those bench-lined bunkers. The guys enjoyed me being myself as much as I enjoyed being around them.
Team showers after games were typical scenes of young men horsing around. I loved being surrounded by the magnificent bodies that made up the squad.
At first my hairless body and cock ring were a novelty. None of the other guys looked like that, they were fascinated. I never explained. Eventually they simply accepted it as part of who I was.
The only thing they struggled with was I never partied with them. The fact I didn’t party at all made it easier to accept, but it still made me the odd one out. I always claimed I needed to focus on school first.
Deep down I would have loved to join them.
Looking back, I think that was where the first wisps of the storm formed.
My studies became the final major part of my life.
The restrictions on my freedom meant they benefited the most. If I didn’t score 100 percent on an assignment or test, I was always in the high nineties. I blitzed the program and soon realised I had the capacity to take on additional subjects.
Even though I had started two months late, I managed to catch up in the two extra modules I received special permission to join. My marks in the new subjects were just as strong.
Cory showed no interest in any of it.
He focused on his law degree and on fucking me whenever he needed relief. What I did in hockey or school meant nothing to him.
All I had to do was be available when he wanted to empty his balls.
By the height of the semester workload, he had moulded my life into a routine that met his needs perfectly.
Everything else I tried to fit around it.
*
When Christmas arrived, my master allowed me to return home for a week. Of course, I’d been raw-fucked by Josh and Cory the day before I left, so most of the break was uncomfortable.
In a twist, my master had also taken the opportunity to lock an oversized padlock through my cock ring. The heavy brass lock was meant to remind me I was owned. He held the only key.
I had to wear a double jock constantly, just to manage the extra weight my meat was expected to carry. I spent most of the vacation holed up inside the family home.
*
The first real body shock of my situation hit in April of the new year.
I was watching TV in the frat’s common room, sitting naked on the couch as usual. Cory was occupied off campus. Valley’s hockey season had ended seven days earlier and, without training or games, I suddenly had a huge amount of free time.
The week before we had played in the ice season’s grand finale. We had spent most of the year on top of the ladder and ended up facing second-place Hill View for the plate.
The game was brutal. One of the toughest of the competition. We played our hearts out, only to lose by two points in the final seven minutes.
I had scored a season-high number of goals and was awarded Best on Rink.
None of it mattered.
We lost.
The locker room afterwards had been a disaster zone of zombies.
Back in the lounge, the TV newscaster was brightly recapping the outcomes of various National Hockey League award ceremonies.
When Rookie of the Year was announced, I couldn’t breathe.
Luke Harris—originally from Northern League, now Anaheim—had romped in to clearly win the medal.
An image flashed across the screen of him accepting the keys to a brand-new Mustang.
A piece of me died.
Cory arrived home an hour later.
He found me sitting numbly at the small desk in the corner of his room, the one I had been allowed for schoolwork. He closed the door and motioned toward the bed.
I knew what was coming.
I stood and walked over to my fate.
For a second or two he sensed something was wrong. Paused as if he might ask. But once I positioned myself, arse elevated, his focus returned to rough-fucking my hole.
As required, I made it good for him.
Twenty-two minutes later he seeded me, pushed me off the bed and passed out snoring.
I stayed where I had fallen for the rest of the afternoon.
I didn’t eat that night.
For the rest of the week, I barely ate at all.
I knew I needed something to refocus on, or I’d lose myself. With hockey season over, school became my only outlet. I added a third subject and pre-read all the material for one of next semester’s core courses.
I continued to ace everything.
*
When end-of-term break arrived, I was again allowed to return home.
Finals were over and, as expected, I was dux of my course. I never mentioned it to Cory. When I arrived home, I simply assured Mum and Dad that I was doing well.
My master had again adorned me with a vacation dick padlock—and a sore arse.
It was my lot.
Despite the difficulty of unloading my nuts, this was simply the way things were.
The storm clouds in my head were now clearly visible, at least to me.
I avoided old friends again and, no doubt, worried my parents terribly. I tried my best to act jovial, but I suspect they saw through it.
Lying on my childhood bed, I found myself thinking about Luke Harris winning Rookie of the Year.
I had played with Luke for almost my entire junior hockey career. We were usually on opposing teams but faced each other at least three times a season, year after year.
He was a good player. I genuinely believed he deserved the award.
The problem was, I was better.
If he had won it, I would have walked it in.
For the first time I had real, tangible evidence of what I had lost.
Lightning and thunder cracked through the back of my mind.
I shed a single tear.
*
When I returned to school for the start of my second year, I loaded up on subjects again.
The student counsellor expressed concern, but I was a smooth talker and quickly eased her worries.
On the side I began drafting letters in longhand. I can’t remember exactly when I started, but it was months before I produced one that felt right.
I hid them beneath a false bottom in my desk drawer.
That hidden compartment would come to define my time at college.
Hidden, dangerous.
When hockey season restarted, I doubled my efforts.
I trained harder, played harder and pushed myself to bring the entire team along with me. If any of the guys wanted to talk, laugh or just hang out in the rooms, I never turned them away.
Physically I became a machine.
As I approached twenty-one my muscles hardened like rock. That season we lost only three games.
Cory continued to fuck me whenever he wanted.
Morning head sessions relieved only part of his daily seed production. As my body grew stronger, he began draining himself in the shower more often. It usually drew an audience.
Watching him control someone as physically powerful as I was, turned him on.
I never refused an order.
In his mind, he had crafted the flawless slave.
His world was perfect.
Once or twice during the year, Cory sent me off campus to spend a night or two with Josh. He described Josh as a master in his own right.
He wasn’t. Not really.
At my core I remained a Dom. Josh said and did the right things, but it was all mechanical. Nothing instinctual.
Sometimes during those sessions, it almost felt like the old days.
Back when Josh was eighteen, and part of the trap that had landed me here.
Back then I had dominated him without mercy.
I used to think he loved it.
Truthfully, I had believed that about everyone I used to fuck.
It was hard to believe who I had once been.
I decided, I would write his letter next.
*
“Something’s wrong,” I heard Josh say over the phone to his brother.
I had returned to college the night before and Cory was fucking me when the call came in.
Between deep thrusts, he answered.
“What do you mean? He didn’t do what you told him? Was a bad fuck?”
“No, none of that,” Josh’s tiny voice replied through the speaker. “It was like… he was too obedient. Something’s wrong.”
“You’re nuts. I’m fucking him right now and I can’t tell the difference. Is something wrong Slave?” he asked, still pounding me while holding the phone away from his ear.
“No Master,” I replied dutifully.
“See? You’re just not fucking him hard enough. You’re too soft, you pussy.”
“Sorry Sir,” Josh conceded quietly.
Turns out, Josh was more perceptive than his brother.
When mid-term break arrived, I was gifted another weekend at home.
Instead, I told Mum and Dad I needed to stay on campus.
Then I headed for the airport.
The padlock on my cock caused problems at security. I was taken to a separate search room where I had to strip and explain it as a fetish.
With a few rolled eyes, they waved me through.
The humiliation meant nothing.
A storm now raged inside me.
Two hours after take-off I landed, found the right bus and rode it across the city. I hadn’t eaten and had no money to change that. Fifty minutes later the bus stopped outside a huge convention centre. I followed the crowd inside.
A few hours later I walked back to the transport hub.
I knew I was in trouble.
My purchase had drained every cent I had.
I sat outside the stop on a low brick wall, wondering what to do.
For a moment I simply decided to enjoy the weather instead. The sun was warm and I could feel it on my arms. I even considered taking off my sleeveless tee.
“I’ll give you twenty,” a voice said.
The man was standing right in front of me.
“Sorry?” I stammered, still miles away in my thoughts.
“I’ll give you twenty, but it has to be quick. My train will be here soon.”
“For what?” I asked, still confused.
“For whatever I can get. Hand job at least, maybe even head. You look like you haven’t eaten. You desperate enough to suck for an easy twenty?”
Then it clicked.
He thought I was a hooker.
“Twenty? You can get a hand job if you spend thirty. That’s it.”
“Bullshit. You know the going rate. Twenty or nothing, but we go now.”
I stood up and rolled my shoulders forward.
“Fuck off with the posing. Twenty or nothing. Now it’s definitely head.”
I turned and walked into the public toilets beside the stop.
He followed half a second later.
I sat on the pan while he got himself organised.
“Come on,” he said impatiently. “I said I’m in a hurry.”
“Show me the cash.”
He rolled his eyes and pulled money from his jeans.
“Fuck, take it. Never been this horny. Get on with it!”
I reached down and freed a four-inch monster.
Ten minutes later I was sitting back in the sun.
Almost stunned by what had just happened.
“Thanks,” my customer said. “Sorry I was rude. I get like that when I’m horny. I sorta wished you’d swallowed.”
“For twenty?”
“Fair point.” He conceded, “I come here all the time. First time I’ve seen you. You new?”
“Yeah. Brand new.”
“Fuck! Hope to see you next week.”
“Maybe.”
He disappeared into the crowd as I looked for my bus.
*
I arrived back at the almost deserted frat house late that afternoon, none the worse for wear. Thanks to my first ever ‘trick’, I had even managed a snack while waiting to board my flight.
The cut-price air ticket had cost me everything I’d managed to put aside over the last seven months. My ‘purchase’ had cost me my car’s top-of-the-line stereo. And it wasn’t lost on me that I had sold my mouth for a bus ticket.
My lot, I thought. Internally, my storm intensified.
Cory must still have been at his folks’. His bed remained untouched from when I’d made it after he left yesterday. I stripped, put my collar on and headed for the showers.
Carl, a running player on the football team, was already under the steamy water. We nodded as I turned on my spray, and waited for the water to warm.
He was a cute African American guy, around my age. I openly took in his lean form, naturally toned from training. He was definitely eye candy. Out front, his six-inch cock was more than firm.
“Do you mind if I pump one out? I was sort of halfway through when you arrived.”
“Go for it,” I said, not caring. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen me sucking Cory in this very space before.
He immediately started working himself.
“Can I hold your cock?” he suddenly asked, three pumps in. “I know Cory won’t let you do anything, but I’d love to hold it. So much bigger than mine… and ringed.”
He licked his lips. I shrugged.
He stepped out from under his rose and moved to the vacant spot beside me. Gently he took my manhood in his grip and noticed the padlock.
“Cory?” he asked.
I nodded. That was enough.
He had a soft touch. As he vigorously worked himself, he lightly stroked mine. Four minutes later he blew in long ropes of seed. He released my now rock-hard cock and leaned back against the wall.
“Thanks,” he said a few moments later. “Don’t tell Cory. I’ve wanted to do that even before I knew you were his slave. Thanks.”
I nodded and decided to finish myself there and then. Carl watched the whole time, suddenly transfixed.
“Can I suck you?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“You can get down here and take a cum shower,” I directed, pointing at my feet. “You know your place.”
“Thank you, Sir!” he said brightly as he knelt, gazing up at my rock-hard meat.
Thirty seconds later, even with the padlock, covered his face and forehead in a river of sperm. Fuck, I needed that. It had been a week since I’d last blown.
I wiped the end of my knob carefully into his mop-length hair before stepping back under my shower. He remained where he was.
“May I stand, Sir?” he asked.
“Yes, boy,” I replied gently. “You did well.”
The praise was uncharacteristic for me. I’d never done that before. His chest swelled as he stood.
“Thanks, Sir… thanks so much.”
He hesitated.
“You’re not really a slave, Sir. Are you just hiding?”
“Time you returned to your shower boy.” I said, ignoring his insight.
He nodded and did. I finished up and made my way back to the silent bedroom. I pulled out a new sheet of paper, I began my third-to-last letter.
*
After Cory had finished pounding and filling my arse later that night, I returned to my slave bed. In the dark I reflected on the day’s events.
My mind flashed back to Carl. I thought about how naturally being a Dom came to me. It didn’t matter what happened, I was never going to be a sub.
*
The first hockey game back after the holidays was the second we lost for the year. It was only by three goals, but it hurt. The coach dismissed it as a holiday hangover, though he wanted a better effort next week.
He was a great mentor. I wondered what he would think when the time came.
Classes resumed with the same predictability. I dove into the academic abyss and was instantly swamped with work. I lost myself in it as I powered through what would be my final run.
The remainder of the hockey season went exactly as planned. I left nothing on the table, as I drove myself to be the best I could be. I again finished the season with the highest individual goal tally, and ten Best on Rink awards.
The coach informed me I would be captain next season, and that it wasn’t negotiable.
He didn’t know.
The ice final again came down to us playing the team that had finished second on the ladder. This time it was Newport. After a poor start to the year, they had pulled themselves together in the second half.
The game went into two extended periods as the score remained deadlocked. An unlucky foul gifted them a goal which, despite our best efforts, we couldn’t claw back.
For the second year in a row, I was Best on Rink in a losing final.
Any faint hope that I might be spotted by a random hockey talent scout, evaporated that night.
My internal countdown clock continued its march unabated.
After the game, I sat with my team as they poured their hearts out. The locker room flooded with one set of tears after another.
When it came to my turn to speak, I simply thanked them all for being the best team a guy could play for and looked to the next player.
My eyes remained dry.
For just a second, the coach looked troubled.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
If I thought Cory might identify with my pain at losing another final, I was quickly corrected. He fucked me later that night, no differently than he had every other day leading up to the loss.
I mused that he was who I used to be.
Afterwards, when I took the time to think about it, I realised something.
Regardless of what happened next, I could never go back to who I had been. That ice-cold, disconnected motherfucker was dead.
I smiled.
Something good had come from being ground down.
As I had the previous year, I threw myself completely into my remaining academic load. I couldn’t stand the thought of being idle, and by the time final exams finished I had maintained my 97% average.
When I finally unwound from the study, I visited the Android Play Store and made a specific purchase.
When the moment presented itself, I quietly downloaded it to Cory’s handset.
On the date specified, his battery depletion would skyrocket.
*
The last week of finals was always busy on campus. The only exams left, tended to be the more exotic subjects. Most students had finished and were seeking a few days to unwind, people just wanted to party and release the tension of the year.
I knew Josh would arrive Wednesday for his standard end-of-year visit. Right on time, he landed. I told him Cory was waiting at the bar downstairs. He dumped his stuff and went to relieve himself after the long drive.
While he was absent, I downloaded the app I’d pre-purchased to his phone. Their nine-dot unlock codes were memorized; getting in was child’s play. The total download and invisible install took thirty-seven seconds. He returned, none the wiser.
Josh was especially excited this trip. Next year, he’d join Cory on campus as a freshman. It would be Cory’s final semesters before graduating as a lawyer.
An hour later, Cory returned with Josh. They had been at the frat bar, partaking in more than a few beers. They locked the door and immediately began disrobing.
In their typical end-of-year frenzy, they dry-fucked me for all I was worth. Occasionally they switched it up, taking me simultaneously from both ends, as always, without mercy. I was expected to keep quiet, though sometimes I couldn’t. This year, each seemed to compete to be the most brutal. My squeals meant nothing. My phone’s record light blinked silently, hidden behind the bookcase.
The pain wasn’t something I could get used to, but with no choice, I did my best. They fucked me until they could barely stand. Even with years of experience, they still tore me to shreds. I shed a single tear for who I might have been.
The night had arrived.
*
Sitting on Cory’s bed, I reflected on the last two years. I rested less than a foot from where I slept every night, breathing contaminated air. I mentally confirmed I was a Dom. Nothing from the last twenty-four months had given me sexual pleasure. I couldn’t identify as a sub, it held no attraction.
I thought of the fuck buddies I’d bullied. I was ashamed; I could have had the same pleasure while honoring their natures. Like Carl, we could have been friends. Who knew?
I hadn’t showered, wasn’t planning to, and lay on the rug to regain strength. I don’t know how long I stayed, but there was no rush, they weren’t coming back soon. When they did, it would be their phones dragging them home early. I got to my feet.
I fixed the bedroom door while my phone downloaded the video of my last fucking. I loaded the file on my desktop. I couldn’t stand seeing their abuse. I shut it down, opened the desk drawer, and looked into the removable panel.
The absence of my hand-written letters, made the compartment seem empty. I’d dropped them into the campus mail slot the afternoon before. No going back. It was liberating.
I took my purchase from its pouch and sat on the bed, waiting.
As I thumbed the safety off, the loaded Glock became the most dangerous object I’d ever held. Suddenly, I saw both beauty and horror. Beauty in how the parts worked together, horror in what it could do tonight.
The flight to the gun show seemed like a million years ago. Did I really suck a guy off for a bus fare? I guess I did. So much of the last few years felt like someone else’s life.
I thought about my parents, my hockey team, the coach, ex-fuck buddies, and finally my enslavers. They had done a magnificent job of securing their prey, me. Their efforts had altered a life course almost set in stone. It was about to take a sharp left. I looked down at the gun again.
Time had no currency.
*
I heard keys rattle, and for a moment it didn’t register I’d been sitting in place for more than two hours. I emerged from zombie mode as Josh complained, trying the door.
“How could both phones go flat so fast?” he muttered.
When the door swung open, Josh stumbled five feet in and froze. Our eyes locked. Cory, less attentive, pushed the door shut with his foot, fumbling with his jacket.
“Slave’s got a gun,” Josh said, frozen. Cory spun to follow his gaze.
“What?” he asked, eyes widening.
“Slave’s got a gun,” Josh repeated. “Why… why have you got a gun, Slave?”
“I’ve been trying to decide if it’s beautiful or horrible,” I said evenly. The old me’s voice sounded calm.
“Where did you?” Cory started, but I cut him off.
“It’s both,” I said. “Fucken amazing. A parallel object, here and now.”
“Slave, don’t do anything rash,” Cory warned.
“Or what?” I said, sharply. “You’ll fuck me until I can’t walk for a week? Is that your punishment?”
“No! We’re sorry!” Josh blurted. “We swear, we were going to let you go when I left college.” I saw Cory wince.
“Three more years?” I spat. “You planned to rough-fuck me for three more years?”
“But… we were going to let you go, we swear. Tell him, Cory.”
“Tell me, Cory,” I repeated, slowly. “How did you plan for this? You always do your homework, you’re never sloppy!” Cory opened his mouth, then closed it.
“You know, I could have been as good as Luke Harris,” I said. “Even with half his opportunities, I could’ve made a life doing what I love.”
Cory inched back; hands still raised.
“The door won’t help,” I said flatly, motioning him to turn and look.
He took in the changes I had made. I’m sure his fears genuinely spiked. The missing inside knobs and locks confirmed planning. Suddenly, everything was more serious!
“That’s a forty-year-old, solid wood door,” I offered, “they don’t make ‘em like that now days. Pity, for you guys.”
“Josh, over here,” I said, patting the space beside me.
“Oh, Slave,” he started in a high-pitched whine.
“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said defensively. “It’s John, no Jake, yeah Jake.”
“Here.” I said patting the space again, he didn’t move. I started to swing the gun in their direction.
“No, no,” said Cory. “I’ll sit!” I discharged the weapon.
The round struck the ceiling, as the deafening shot exploded in the enclosed room.
“I said, I want Josh to sit.” I repeated calmly.
“Ok, ok I’ll sit, don’t shoot,” he pleaded as he made his way, hands still raised. I turned to Cory.
“Do you think, I would have any trouble shooting you?” I asked coldly. “I mean, really?”
“No.” He replied. “B.. but I’m sorry for what we’ve done.”
“I’m not interested in what you’re sorry for. You move a fucken muscle, and I’ll blow your head off. You got that?”
“Yes Sir.” He replied. I rolled my eyes in disgust. I turned to Josh, freaked out, sitting on my right.
Being right-handed, I naturally held the gun in that hand. I raised the weapon between Josh and myself, he whimpered.
“Despite my hostility,” I said calmly, mainly to Cory. “You guys can walk out of here unharmed. Just don’t do anything stupid. Agreed?” Cory nodded firmly. “Good.”
“Josh, put your right hand along the top of the gun.” I instructed. I held up my left in a ‘come to me’ gesture.
“Why?” he pleaded, panicked.
“Just do it!” I snapped. Shocked to action, he tentatively placed his right paw as told. I gently took his hand in my left and positioned it to encase my right hand. I took my finger from the trigger. “Put your finger through that hole.” I commanded, indicating the trigger guard.
“Why?” he asked again. I looked at him fiercely, he moved to comply. I closed my left hand over his grip and held it firmly in place.
I slowly rotated the gun upwards.
“What are you doing?” he pleaded, helpless to stop my movements. “what ar….” I brought the gun to rest under my chin.
“Cory, Cory! What’s he doing? What’s he….”
“No Jake! don’t do this.” Screamed Cory. “No Jake!”
As Josh squealed meaninglessly, I lodged my left thumb into the trigger guard and forced Josh’s finger downwards.
As the evening’s second shot rang out, blood instantly coated Josh’s upper torso and face. I pitched heavily to the floor as the gun clattered beside me.
Josh continued to scream, but as promised, the brothers were left unharmed.
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