Wrapped in darkness.
Heaven and earth undivided, pitch black, consciousness sinking to the bottom of the water.
In the sleep that sank into deep water, Ethan seemed to hear some sound. However, sleep blocked that sound, and it grew more and more distant...
Just as the sound was about to cut off, that warm and wet sensation pulled Ethan from his deep sleep like silk threads. His consciousness floated upward through layers of drowsiness until he finally became aware of the source—Blake's mouth, hot and eager, wrapped around his morning erection.
Ethan's eyelids fluttered open to see Blake's golden head moving rhythmically between his legs, his handsome jaw stretched wide, mouth tightly wrapped around his thick shaft. Blake's tongue swirled and licked at the sensitive underside of Ethan's massive penis while his mouth created perfect suction.
"Fuck..." Ethan breathed, his hips instinctively rolling upward.
Blake's blue eyes flicked up to meet his, sparkling with mischief. He made guttural "gluk gluk" sounds, taking Ethan deeper, his throat working to accommodate that impressive length. The sight of this handsome athlete choking himself on Ethan's cock sent waves of dominance through his entire body. Blake's mouth produced lewd wet sounds, his tongue tip gently licking the sensitive head, making Ethan gasp repeatedly.
"God, your mouth..." Ethan groaned, his fingers tangling in Blake's slightly damp hair. Those golden strands still carried the messy look of just waking up, making Blake's servicing of his morning wood appear even more debauched.
Blake pulled off with a lewd "pop," a string of saliva connecting his lips to Ethan's swollen head. His cheeks were flushed, breathing heavy. "Boss, this is your exclusive morning service," he grinned, teasingly licking Ethan's glans, making Ethan shudder all over. Then Blake dove back down, swallowing him to the root in one go. Ethan felt himself hitting the back of Blake's throat, could feel those muscles spasming there as they fought the gag reflex. The wet heat was incredible, almost overwhelming.
"Shit, Blake, if you keep doing that I'm gonna—"
Blake suddenly pulled off completely, Ethan's thick cock slapping against his belly like a rubber rod, glistening with saliva. The abrupt loss of stimulation made Ethan whimper with frustration.
"Time for that morning run I promised you," Blake said casually, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if he hadn't just been deepthroating Ethan's monster.
"What the fuck?" Ethan sat up, his massive erection standing proud and demanding, the head purple with need. "You can't just stop! My dick is still hard!"
Blake laughed, already moving toward his dresser. "Don't worry. If I made you cum, you'd be too weak-kneed to keep up with me anyway." He pulled on athletic shorts and tossed some clothes from his own drawer to Ethan. "Get dressed. Don't waste time."
This casual dismissal stung. Blake had just been worshipping his cock like it was sacred, and now he was acting like nothing had happened. Ethan grabbed those clothes—just regular cotton shorts and an old T-shirt, nothing special—and glared at Blake's back.
"Fine," Ethan muttered, his erection finally starting to subside as anger took over. "But next time you start something, you better fucking finish it."
The sun hadn't yet risen, campus paths shrouded in gem-blue mist, with only occasional birdsong breaking the silence.
"We'll start with a two-mile base run," Blake explained, pulling out his phone to set a timer. "Don't try to match my pace—I won't lower my training for you, and you don't need to follow my plan either. You can't handle it anyway. Just focus on two miles, steady breathing, and not dying."
Soon Blake disappeared into the thick blue mist. Within half a mile, Ethan was already breathing hard, his legs burning.
*I don't need to do this, just half-ass it and get through.*
Ethan's pace gradually slowed, then suddenly he heard the sound of running shoes scraping the ground. Blake appeared beside him with light steps, encouraging him.
Then Blake disappeared again into the gradually brightening air.
"You're running well," during Ethan's second mile, Blake jogged backward in front of him, offering him a water bottle. "Try to land on your midfoot, not your heel. And don't clench your fists—you're wasting energy."
"How much further?" Ethan gasped.
"Quarter mile. You've got this."
Somehow, with Blake's quiet encouragement, Ethan really did have it. When they finished, he was drenched in sweat and gasping, but he'd completed the full distance.
"Not bad for a first timer," Blake said, leading him through a cooldown walk. "Your form needs work, but you've got more endurance than I expected."
This backhanded compliment should have annoyed Ethan, but instead he felt an unwelcome flutter of pride. When Blake showed him some basic stretches, occasionally adjusting his position with casual touches, Ethan found himself hyperaware of every point of contact.
This was dangerous territory. Blake was supposed to be his toy, his revenge fantasy made flesh. He wasn't supposed to be... getting lost in Blake's consideration.
Back in the dorm, with an hour before classes started, Ethan's anxiety crystallized into cold determination. Blake was humming in the bathroom—actually humming like he was happy—and that sound made Ethan's hands clench into fists.
This ends now.
When Blake emerged from the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his chest, Ethan was sitting on his bed with an expression that made Blake pause mid-step.
"Come here," Ethan said, his voice low and commanding.
Blake raised an eyebrow but walked over, probably expecting another sexual encounter. Instead, Ethan grabbed Blake and made him lie across his lap, pulling away the towel to expose his naked body.
"What the hell—"
Ethan's hand came down hard on Blake's ass with a sharp "CRACK!" that echoed through the room.
"Shut up! You think you can just... take care of me? Act like we're friends? I know what you're doing."
Blake's body went rigid, muscles tensing. "Ethan, I don't know what you—"
Another harsh slap, this one leaving a clear handprint on Blake's pale skin.
"I said shut up! You're trying to make me soft, make me dependent on you so you can use me however you want. But I'm not falling for it, you manipulative slut." That psychological need was overwhelming—Ethan had to prove he wasn't soft, wasn't falling for Blake's act. He couldn't become just another hole for Blake to use and discard when he got bored. His hand came down again and again, Blake's ass gradually turning red under his assault with Blake's soft grunts.
Except for the first strike, Blake didn't struggle. His breathing grew heavier, small sounds escaping his throat that weren't entirely from pain.
"You like this, don't you?" Ethan's voice was venomous. "Getting spanked like the bad boy you are. This is what you really want—to be put in your place."
Blake's hips shifted slightly, and Ethan could feel the unmistakable press of his erection against his thigh. The realization that Blake was getting aroused from being dominated sent a surge of dark satisfaction through Ethan.
"Say it," Ethan demanded, his hand pausing mid-strike. "Say you're my bitch."
Blake turned his head, meeting Ethan's gaze with eyes that were hazy with pain and arousal. "I'm... I'm your bitch, boss."
But there was something else in Blake's expression—not just submission, but a kind of longing. He needed this violence, even though he didn't know what he'd done wrong.
"Get on your knees," Ethan commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. "Get into the position you deserve."
Blake slid off Ethan's lap, his ass already bright red from the spanking, and Ethan could see the clear outline of his handprints marking Blake's skin like brands of ownership. Blake knelt beside the bed, back straight, hands resting on his thighs.
"That's better," Ethan said, standing and moving behind Blake. "This is where you belong—on your knees, waiting for your punishment like a good little slut."
Ethan had Blake lean forward with his hands on the ground, raising his ass up. From this angle, Blake's ass was perfectly presented, the red handprints stark against his pale skin. Ethan could see how Blake's cock hung heavy between his legs, semi-hard despite—or perhaps because of—the punishment.
Ethan's hand came down again with a sharp "CRACK!" the sound echoing off the dorm room walls. Blake's body jolted forward, a soft grunt escaping his lips.
"Count them," Ethan ordered. "I want to hear you acknowledge every single one."
"One," Blake breathed, his voice already husky.
CRACK. "Two."
CRACK. "Three."
Each strike left Blake's ass redder, more sensitive. By the seventh spank, Blake's breathing was ragged, small whimpers escaping him with each impact. Ethan's hand was starting to sting from the repeated contact, those sharp slaps taking their toll on his palm too.
That's when he noticed Blake's resistance band, the thick elastic cord he used for workouts, lying carelessly beside the bed where he'd tossed it.
A cruel smile spread across Ethan's face as he picked up the band, testing its weight and flexibility. The rubber was thick and substantial, perfect for what he had in mind.
"My hand's getting sore," Ethan said conversationally, doubling the band over in his grip. "But lucky for both of us, you left me a much better tool."
Blake's head turned slightly, his eyes widening when he saw what Ethan was holding.
"Ethan, wait—"
The resistance band whistled down across Blake's solid muscle, landing with a "SNAP!" that was much sharper and more vicious than a hand slap. Blake's entire body jerked forward, a strangled cry escaping his throat as a bright red welt immediately rose across both cheeks.
"Fuck!" Blake gasped, his hands reflexively moving to protect his ass before catching himself, leaning toward the ground like an obedient dog.
"Much better," Ethan said with satisfaction, admiring the angry red line across Blake's skin. "This is what happens when you try to manipulate me with your fake kindness. You get exactly what you deserve."
SNAP. The band came down again, crossing the first welt at an angle. Blake's cry was louder this time, his body trembling as he fought to stay in position, keeping himself from making noise.
"Look at you," Ethan taunted, bringing the band down a third time. "Getting hard from being whipped like a dog. This is what you really are, isn't it? Not some alpha jock, just a pain slut who gets off on being dominated."
It was true—despite the obvious pain, Blake's cock was now fully erect, standing rigid between his legs. Pre-cum was already beading at the tip, clear evidence of his arousal.
"Please," Blake whispered, though whether he was begging for mercy or for more, Ethan couldn't tell.
"Please what?" Ethan demanded, snapping the band across Blake's thighs this time, making him jump. "Please stop? Or please use you harder?"
Blake's head hung low, his golden hair falling in his face. "Please... this feels like fire burning me, burn me with your whipping," he admitted, his voice growing quieter.
The confession sent a surge of dark triumph through Ethan. Here was the campus golden boy, the star athlete everyone worshipped, begging to be abused by his so-called "victim" nerdy roommate.
"I knew it," Ethan said, bringing the band down again with renewed vigor. "Be educated, be a good boy, bitch!"
Each strike of the resistance band left Blake more marked, more desperate. His ass and thighs were crisscrossed with angry red welts, and his cock was leaking steadily now, a small puddle forming beneath him on the floor.
"This is who you really are," Ethan continued his psychological assault even as he delivered the physical one. "Not the masculine, perfect muscular athlete everyone thinks they know. Just a little slut who craves being dominated by his skinny roommate."
Blake's breathing was coming in short gasps now, his entire body trembling on the edge of something. The combination of pain and humiliation was pushing him toward a precipice he'd never experienced before.
"Fuck," Blake moaned, his hips unconsciously grinding forward, seeking friction that wasn't there. "Ethan, I—"
"You what?" Ethan demanded, the band poised for another strike. "Say it. Tell me exactly what you are."
"I'm your whore," Blake gasped out, his voice breaking with need and shame. "You've branded marks on me, I'm your slut. I belong to you."
The words hung in the air between them, a confession that changed everything and nothing all at once.
Ethan's fingers tangled roughly in Blake's sweat-dampened hair, gripping tight enough to make him wince. He yanked Blake's head back, forcing those glazed blue eyes to meet his.
"You started something this morning that you didn't finish," Ethan said, his voice low and commanding. "Time to complete what you began."
Without waiting for a response, Ethan guided Blake's face toward his crotch. Watching Blake's submission, his cock had grown hard again, the thick shaft straining against his shorts.
"Take it out with your mouth," Ethan ordered. "And this time, you don't stop until I'm satisfied."
Blake used his mouth to bite the edge of Ethan's shorts and pull them down, freeing that thick cock that sprang out, the head already glistening with pre-cum. Even after all their encounters, Blake still seemed awed by Ethan's size.
"Good boy," Ethan breathed as Blake's lips parted, taking the swollen head into his mouth. "Show me how sorry you are for teasing me this morning."
Blake's technique was driven by his punishment and arousal. His lips stretched wide around Ethan's girth, his tongue working frantically along the sensitive underside. The wet sounds of his efforts filled the quiet dorm room.
"Deeper," Ethan commanded, his grip on Blake's hair tightening. "I want to feel the back of your throat."
Blake obeyed, forcing himself to take more of Ethan's length despite the difficulty. His eyes watered as he fought his gag reflex, determined to please despite the discomfort.
"That's my good little cocksucker," Ethan praised mockingly. "Your natural talent isn't playing hockey, isn't being the campus golden boy—just servicing cock like the born slut you are."
The degrading words only seemed to spur Blake on further, his head bobbing with renewed enthusiasm as he worked to bring Ethan to the climax he'd been denied earlier.
With his orgasm approaching, Ethan let out a low groan of satisfaction, finally getting the completion he deserved while asserting his dominance over the kneeling athlete beneath him. When he came, it was with a force that left Blake swallowing desperately to keep up, tears streaming down his face from the intensity.
As the waves of his orgasm subsided, Ethan's breathing gradually slowed, his impressive cock beginning to soften in Blake's mouth. Blake pulled back slowly, carefully cleaning every drop with his tongue before releasing him completely.
But when Ethan looked down, he noticed something that sent a spike of irritation through his post-orgasmic haze. Blake's cock was still standing at full attention, rigid and throbbing, despite the puddle of cum on the floor that proved he'd already climaxed from the spanking alone.
This sight triggered memories of his dream from the night before—the fantasy where Blake's "average" cock had dominated him so completely, made him scream and beg like a desperate slut. The humiliation of being satisfied by something smaller than his own monster still burned in his mind.
"Look at that," Ethan said, his voice taking on a cold, mocking edge. "Like a pathetic dog shooting all over the floor, and still hard. Your little cock just can't help showing off, can it?"
Blake shifted uncomfortably on his knees, his erection twitching under Ethan's scrutiny. Despite his recent orgasm, the head was flushed dark red, a steady stream of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
Ethan's gaze dropped to the puddle of Blake's cum on the floor, then back to his still-rigid cock. A cruel smile spread across his face as he reached down, scooping up some of the warm, sticky fluid with his fingers.
"Look what we have here," Ethan said, his cum-slicked fingers wrapping around Blake's shaft. "Perfect lubrication, courtesy of your own pathetic desperation."
Blake's body jolted at the contact, his cock twitching violently in Ethan's grip. The sensitivity from his recent orgasm made every touch feel electric, overwhelming. Ethan began stroking slowly, using Blake's own seed to coat his length.
"Still so fucking hard," Ethan observed mockingly. "Like a bitch in heat that shot and still can't help yourself, can you?"
Without warning, Ethan leaned forward and captured one of Blake's nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make him cry out. The dual sensation of Ethan's cum-slicked hand working his cock and his mouth attacking his chest sent shockwaves through Blake's already oversensitive body.
"Fuck! Ethan, please—" Blake gasped, his back arching as Ethan switched to the other nipple, deliberately cruel in his sucking and biting.
"Please what?" Ethan mumbled against his chest, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak while his hand maintained its relentless rhythm. "Please stop? Or please make you cum again like the desperate slut you are?"
Blake's breathing was becoming erratic, his hips bucking involuntarily into Ethan's grip. Using his own cum as lubricant, combined with the intense nipple stimulation, was driving him toward another peak faster than should have been possible.
"I can't... it's too much..." Blake whimpered, his hands gripping the floor, skin turning red.
"You can and you will," Ethan said, pulling back from Blake's chest to look him in the eyes. "I'm going to prove that your cock isn't special. That it's just as weak and pathetic as the rest of you."
Ethan's hand now moved faster, the wet sounds of Blake's cum squelching between his fingers filling the room. Blake's head fell back, a low masculine moan escaping his lips as he teetered on the edge.
"That's it," Ethan encouraged mockingly. "Show me how easy it is to make you fall apart. Come on, give me another load to play with."
Blake's entire body tensed, his cock pulsing in Ethan's grip as another orgasm crashed through him. This time the release was smaller, his body already drained, but the intensity was just as overwhelming.
"Pathetic," Ethan said, watching Blake tremble through the aftershocks. "Two orgasms and you're still hard. Your body really doesn't know when to quit, does it?"
Blake could only pant in response, his cock still rigid despite the double climax. Ethan reached for his nightstand, pulling out one of the disposable masturbation sleeves he kept there—a translucent silicone tube designed for solo sessions. Blake's eyes widened as he realized Ethan's intention.
"Since you want to show off so much," Ethan said, rolling the sleeve down over Blake's shaft, "let's see how much stamina you really have."
The tight silicone gripped Blake's cock like a vice, the textured interior designed to provide intense stimulation. Ethan began working it up and down Blake's length with mechanical precision, determined to drain every drop of arrogance out of him.
"This is what you get for trying to show off," Ethan said, his hand pumping relentlessly. "I'm going to milk you dry until there's nothing left of that cocky attitude."
Blake's hips bucked involuntarily, overwhelmed by the intense sensation so soon after his previous climax.
"Boss," Blake gasped, his voice strained. "My cock hurts so much, please stop—"
"You can and you will," Ethan cut him off, increasing the pace. "This is the price for taking your average cock and entering me, weren't you fierce when you fucked my hole? I'm going to teach you exactly where you belong."
The sight of Blake's rigid cock, still standing proud despite two orgasms, stirred something dark and unwelcome in Ethan's chest. His hole clenched involuntarily, remembering the stretch and fullness of Blake's thickness inside him. The memory of being completely filled, of Blake hitting spots that made him scream—
*No.* Ethan shoved the thought away violently. It was pathetic enough that his body had responded so intensely to such an average-sized cock. If Blake had been properly hung—seven inches, hell, even six and a half—then maybe Ethan could rationalize his pleasure. But Blake's cock was barely above average, and somehow it had still reduced him to a moaning, begging mess.
The shame of it made Ethan's jaw clench. His own monster was so much bigger, so much more impressive, yet his treacherous body craved Blake's inferior equipment.
"Remember what you said about my circulation?" Ethan said through gritted teeth, his fingers finding Blake's swollen glans and rubbing the sensitive head with deliberate cruelty. "About how I'd be too weak after one orgasm?"
Blake's body jerked, a strangled cry escaping his lips as Ethan's thumb worked the ultra-sensitive tip.
"Ethan, please, I really can't take much more—"
"But you can," Ethan interrupted, his other hand moving to roughly massage Blake's heavy balls. "Look how hard you still are. Your body just doesn't know restraint, does it? Unlike mine, apparently."
The bitterness in his own voice surprised him, but he channeled it into more aggressive stimulation. His fingers pinched and rolled Blake's nipples while his other hand worked the masturbation sleeve with mechanical precision.
Ethan's fingers continued their relentless exploration, sliding down from Blake's heavy, cum-slicked sac toward the sensitive skin between his legs. Blake's own seed mixed with the steady stream of pre-cum provided perfect lubrication as Ethan's fingertips traced lower, mapping every inch of Blake's most intimate geography.
"Look how wet you are," Ethan murmured, his voice filled with dark fascination. "Like a bitch in heat getting yourself all messy."
Blake's breathing hitched as Ethan's slick fingers found the tight ring of his entrance, circling the puckered skin with deliberate slowness. The unexpected touch made Blake's entire body jolt, his cock twitching violently in the masturbation sleeve.
"Ethan, what are you—" Blake gasped, drawing a sharp breath as Ethan's finger pressed more firmly against his hole.
"Exploring what's mine," Ethan replied coldly, using the pad of his finger to massage the sensitive entrance without penetrating. "Every part of your body belongs to me now, doesn't it?"
The external stimulation was driving Blake wild, the combination of the sleeve working his oversensitive cock and Ethan's finger teasing his most private area creating an overwhelming sensory overload. His hole clenched involuntarily under Ethan's touch, the muscles fluttering with need.
"Please," Blake whimpered, though he wasn't sure what he was begging for—more contact or mercy from the relentless stimulation.
Ethan smiled cruelly, his finger continuing its maddening circles around Blake's entrance while his other hand maintained the punishing rhythm with the sleeve. "Look at you, trembling from just a little touch. Your body really has no shame, does it?"
Blake could only moan in response, his mind fragmenting under the dual assault. The slick pressure against his hole combined with the intense friction on his cock was pushing him toward another climax, despite his body's protests that it couldn't handle any more.
"Whose stamina problem is it now?" Ethan continued, watching Blake's face contort with overstimulation. "I'm going to make you cum so many times you'll forget what it feels like to be soft."
Blake's third orgasm hit him like a freight train, his back arching as his cock pulsed weakly in the sleeve. But even as he shook through the aftershocks, he remained partially hard.
"Look at you," Ethan snarled, his voice dripping with contempt as he watched Blake's cock remain stubbornly erect despite multiple orgasms. "Still fucking hard like some kind of perverted animal. What kind of freak stays this aroused after cumming three times?"
Blake's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his voice small and apologetic. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I can't control it. My body just... this fucking hell won't stop responding."
"That's your problem," Ethan spat. "Too fucking physical, too horny. You're like a dog in heat that doesn't know when to quit. You can only be punished!"
To emphasize his point, Ethan's fingers found Blake's nipple and pinched with vicious force, twisting the sensitive flesh until Blake's face contorted in agony. A sharp hiss escaped through his clenched teeth, but he didn't pull away or protest.
"Yes, I'm nothing but a worm, unable to cocoon but dreaming of becoming a butterfly, crawling toward the place of judgment..."
Blake began muttering these words again—too weird for a jock, like poetry. Something shifted in his pain-glazed eyes. The hurt transformed into raw, desperate lust, and before Ethan could react, Blake lunged forward, capturing his lips in a hungry, needy kiss.
For a moment, Ethan found himself sinking into the warmth of Blake's mouth, the desperate passion behind the kiss threatening to melt his resolve. Blake kissed like a man drowning, pouring all his submission and need into the contact.
*No.*
Ethan's hand cracked across Blake's face with explosive force, the slap echoing through the room like a gunshot. Blake's head snapped to the side, a red handprint blooming on his cheek.
"Did I say you could kiss me?" Ethan growled, standing abruptly. "You think just because you can make me feel good, that gives you the right to take what you want?"
Blake touched his stinging cheek, looking up at Ethan with wounded confusion.
"I'm sorry, I thought—"
"You thought wrong," Ethan cut him off, already yanking down his pants and underwear. His own cock hung semi-soft, but that wasn't what he had in mind.
"Since you can't control that slutty mouth of yours, let's put it to better use."
Without warning, Ethan turned around and lowered himself onto Blake's face, his ass pressing down over Blake's mouth and nose.
"Lick," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Show me what that eager tongue is really good for."
Ethan settled his full weight down onto Blake's face without mercy, his ass cheeks spreading to completely envelop Blake's features. Blake's nose pressed directly against his tight hole while his mouth was smothered by the curve of Ethan's ass. The position was deliberately suffocating, designed to strip away any remaining dignity Blake might have clung to.
"That's right," Ethan said with cruel satisfaction, feeling Blake's hot breath against his most intimate area. "Get your fucking nose in there too. I want you to smell what real dominance is like."
Blake's hands instinctively came up to grip Ethan's thighs, not to push him away but to steady himself as he began the degrading task. His tongue emerged tentatively, lapping at Ethan's hole while his nose was ground mercilessly against the sensitive skin.
"Harder," Ethan commanded, shifting his weight to press down even more firmly. "Use that slutty tongue like you mean it. Show me how sorry you are for thinking you could take control."
The muffled sounds Blake made were barely human—desperate gasps for air mixed with the wet sounds of his tongue working. Ethan could feel every flick and swirl against his most private area, the sensation sending unexpected jolts of pleasure through his body.
"Look at you," Ethan continued his verbal assault, even as his voice began to take on a slightly breathless quality. "The campus golden boy, D1 athlete licking my ass like a whore. This is your real job, slut, isn't it?"
Blake's response was lost in the flesh covering his mouth, but Ethan could feel the vibrations of his attempted words against his skin. The combination of complete physical domination and Blake's helpless submission was intoxicating.
Minutes passed as Ethan maintained his position, occasionally shifting to ensure Blake's nose rubbed against different areas, sometimes pressing down so hard that Blake's breathing became truly labored. The power rush was incredible—having this strong, athletic body completely at his mercy, reduced to nothing more than a living sex toy.
Time seemed to stretch as they remained locked in this intimate tableau—Ethan fighting to maintain dominance while his body betrayed him with its growing arousal from Blake's desperate ministrations, Blake serving him with a dedication that went far beyond mere submission. The room filled with the wet sounds of Blake's efforts and Ethan's increasingly labored breathing.
"Deeper," Ethan demanded, his voice now definitely showing signs of the pleasure he was trying to hide. "Get that tongue as far in as you can. I want to feel you trying to crawl inside me."
Blake obeyed with desperate enthusiasm, his tongue probing and swirling with increased urgency. The wet heat was driving Ethan toward a precipice he hadn't expected, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain cold control.
"Fuck," Ethan gasped, his hips beginning to rock slightly against Blake's face. "That's... that's exactly what a pathetic slut like you is made for."
The degrading words were as much for his own benefit as Blake's now, helping him maintain the illusion of control even as his body betrayed his growing arousal. But something was wrong—despite the intense pleasure, his cock remained stubbornly soft, the blood that should have been rushing to fill it seemingly diverted elsewhere.
Blake noticed immediately, his hands sliding up to touch Ethan's flaccid length with concern even as he continued his oral service. The gentle, almost caring touch was so at odds with their power dynamic that it made Ethan's chest tighten with confused emotions.
"Don't stop," Ethan commanded, but his voice had lost some of its authority. The dizziness was getting worse, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision as his body struggled with the conflicting demands of arousal and circulation.
Blake's ministrations became even more desperate, as if he could somehow solve Ethan's physical problem through sheer enthusiasm. His tongue worked with renewed vigor while his hands gently massaged Ethan's thighs, trying to encourage blood flow.
Finally, the combination of intense stimulation and circulatory stress became too much. Ethan's climax hit him like a tidal wave, his body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed through him despite his inability to achieve full arousal. The orgasm was different—more intense in some ways, but also strangely hollow without the physical manifestation he was used to.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Ethan cried out, his entire body shaking as he rode out the intense sensations. Blake held him steady throughout, continuing his gentle oral ministrations until Ethan finally collapsed forward, gasping for air.
For a moment they remained frozen—Ethan slumped over Blake's prone form, both of them breathing heavily. Then reality crashed back in.
"Shit," Ethan muttered, glancing at the clock. "Ten minutes until class."
He quickly climbed off Blake's face, his legs unsteady as the blood slowly began to redistribute through his system. Blake lay there for a moment, his face flushed and wet, gasping for the air he'd been partially denied.
"Are you okay?" Blake asked softly, sitting up slowly and wiping his mouth. There was no mockery in his voice, only genuine concern that made Ethan's stomach twist with conflicted emotions.
"I'm fine," Ethan snapped, though he had to grip the edge of his desk to steady himself. "Just... low blood sugar or something."
Blake rose carefully, his movements stilted and awkward. The extensive spanking had clearly taken its toll—he walked with a slight limp.
"We should get dressed," Blake said practically, pulling on his shorts with visible discomfort. "No time for breakfast now."
Ethan watched him move, noting how Blake tried to hide his pain but couldn't quite manage it. A small part of him felt a flicker of... something. Guilt? Satisfaction? He couldn't quite identify the emotion.
"Yeah," Ethan agreed, reaching for his own clothes. His hands were still shaking slightly, and he had to concentrate to button his shirt properly.
Blake was already dressed, though he moved like someone trying very hard not to show how much he was hurting. He grabbed his backpack, then paused at the door.
"Ethan," he said quietly, "about what just happened—"
"Nothing happened," Ethan cut him off sharply. "We're late for class. That's all that matters right now."
Blake studied his face for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Right. Class."
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, his gait noticeably stiff as he tried to walk normally. Ethan followed a moment later, his own steps still slightly unsteady as his circulation gradually returned to normal.
The hallway was beginning to fill with other students heading to their morning classes, the normal bustle of campus life a stark contrast to the intensity they'd just shared. A few people nodded at Blake—the golden boy hockey star was always popular—but no one seemed to notice his careful, measured movements or the slight flush that still colored his cheeks.
Ethan walked a few steps behind, watching Blake navigate the social interactions with practiced ease despite his obvious discomfort. It was fascinating and disturbing how quickly Blake could slip back into his public persona, as if the last hour hadn't happened at all.
They reached the point where their paths diverged—Blake heading toward the engineering building while Ethan's computer science class was in the opposite direction. For a moment they stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
"See you later," Blake said finally, his voice carefully neutral.
"Yeah," Ethan replied, equally guarded. "Later."
As Blake walked away, Ethan couldn't help but notice the subtle stiffness in his movements, the way he held himself just a little too carefully.
A twisted sense of satisfaction curled in Ethan's chest. Blake might be able to hide the physical marks under his clothes, but Ethan would know. Every time Blake shifted uncomfortably in his seat, every careful movement, would be a reminder of who was really in control.
But as Ethan headed toward his own class, he couldn't shake the memory of Blake's hands on him—not just the sexual contact, but the gentle concern when he'd noticed something was wrong.
As he settled into his seat for class, Ethan found himself distracted, his mind replaying every moment of their encounter. The way Blake had submitted so completely, the sounds he'd made, the genuine concern in his voice when he'd asked if Ethan was okay...
*Stop,* Ethan commanded himself. *Don't read into it. He's just another jock playing games, just wants to use me as a pussy.*
But even as he tried to focus on the professor's lecture about algorithms and data structures, part of his mind remained fixed on Blake—wondering how he was managing to sit through his own classes, whether anyone could tell what had happened, whether he was thinking about Ethan too.
The morning stretched on, each minute feeling simultaneously too long and too short, as Ethan tried to process what had transpired between them and what it might mean for whatever twisted relationship they were building.
One thing was certain—this was far from over. If anything, it was just the beginning.
Just thinking about the sports rehabilitation center made Ethan's palms sweat. So when he found himself standing outside the door that his phone's GPS claimed was the destination, he felt confused. The sign on the door wasn't for medical services—it read "Student Athlete Advisory... something." But there were indeed several student athletes inside, so... maybe this was the right place?
The space was smaller than he'd imagined, more like a lounge with a few couches and a small kitchen. There were only three people inside—two he didn't recognize, and the third made his heart sink to the bottom.
It was the dark-haired hockey player he'd seen in their dorm before, the one who radiated that effortless chad aura, much more intense than Blake's, making Ethan want to disappear on the spot. Ethan wanted to leave, but the guy looked up and saw him.
"You're Banks' roommate, right?" The guy stood up, moving with a natural confidence that came from never doubting his place in the world. "I've seen you in your dorm a few times. I'm Adrian."
*He remembers me. Fuck.*
Ethan's mouth went dry. This was exactly the kind of social interaction that could paralyze him—being recognized by someone from Blake's world, someone who'd probably already seen through all his facades.
"Yeah," Ethan managed, his voice so thin it embarrassed him. "I'm... looking for the rehabilitation center?"
Adrian's sharp gaze immediately focused, with a hint of concerned scrutiny. "Rehabilitation center? You don't look injured, and why come here? You're not a student athlete."
"Blake..." Ethan mumbled, "he might need..."
Adrian's expression changed instantly, becoming absolutely alpha, like a wolf growling low. "What happened to Blake? Is he injured?"
It wasn't just concern—it was a beast protecting his important asset. Adrian's eyes—sharp, shrewd, like those who measured others by instinct—examined Ethan, making him feel like a bug under a microscope.
"Nothing serious... just this morning, this morning he... fell off the bed frame..." Ethan struggled to breathe. "I thought there might be something helpful here..."
"Ha, fell off the bed," Adrian seemed completely unconvinced. "This is just a meeting room. Come on, I'll take you." He was already heading toward the door. "They have what you need there."
As they walked through the sports center, Adrian's presence beside him was overwhelming. This guy walked like he owned the place, casually nodding to other athletes who all seemed to know and respect him.
"So, what kind of soreness are we talking about?" Adrian asked casually, but his tone was more like an interrogation. "From—falling off the bed?"
"Yeah, landed on his ass, rolling around on the floor..." Ethan replied vaguely. Adrian heard this and burst out laughing, Ethan feeling his pathetic voice completely overshadowed by Adrian's confident baritone.
Ethan felt his legs trembling, about to be swallowed whole by Adrian's massive chad aura. Was this the ultimate chad? Compared to him, Blake seemed so approachable—or had Blake always been taking care of his feelings? Ethan denied this thought; if that were true, Blake wouldn't be walking around the dorm in just underwear all the time.
How was this hallway so long? Ethan felt time crawling as he stood beside Adrian like a possum being stalked by a wolf. Adrian continued asking questions about Blake with complete nonchalance, while Ethan fumbled through responses, completely unable to process what Adrian was saying, until Adrian asked as casually as discussing the weather: "Have you two fucked yet? Did Blake fuck you, or was it the other way around?"
It hit Ethan like a punch to the gut. His breathing became shallow, his vision starting to narrow. Adrian was looking at him with those calculating eyes, reading every micro-expression on his face.
"No!" Ethan's voice embarrassingly cracked. "I'm not gay! Blake probably isn't either... we just... discovered we like the same video games. That's why we've gotten closer lately."
"Hmm, nerd interests." Adrian's voice carried some disdain. "Blake is a bit of a freak sometimes, it's not surprising he'd have interests that mesh with nerds. But what kind of game makes you fall on your ass?"
"That was from the bed—" Ethan was almost screaming, but was quickly cut off by Adrian's firm interruption. Adrian slowly nodded, but his expression—that damned, knowing smile—showed he didn't believe a word.
"Alright, if you insist on that narrative, we'll go with it—we're here."
Adrian gestured for Ethan to quiet down and pushed open a door. He greeted the female student inside with familiar intimacy, embracing like close friends in a European film, then authoritatively handled everything—he was the type who never needed to ask permission because people naturally made way for him. While waiting for paperwork, Adrian leaned against the counter, keeping others away from them both, and studied Ethan with a gaze that made him extremely uncomfortable.
"You didn't tell me your name earlier, but I think I might remember Blake mentioning it," Adrian said, deliberately casual. "Aiden?"
"Ethan," Ethan mumbled quietly, social discomfort making his cheeks flush.
"Mm, you can play games together, I don't care, but Blake is important—you don't understand his value, and he's a crucial piece of our team, the jewel in our crown—so you better figure it out, his assets and value are much higher than yours. I won't comment on your 'roommate games,' but before he puts that championship ring on my finger, if you cause him any damage, I'll make you regret being born."
Adrian's voice was so calm, like a quiet conversation between friends, but the content plunged Ethan into an icy sea. Soon the girl's voice interrupted their conversation—it seemed the paperwork was done.
When the medication was ready, Adrian handed it to Ethan along with dosage and timing instructions. Then, on their walk back to main campus, he added as if it were an afterthought:
"Oh, tell Banks there's a party at my place tonight. After practice. Pre-regional motivation." Adrian's smile had an edge of authority, making it clear this wasn't a request. "And tell him to stop being autistic with his textbooks. The kid needs to remember he's part of this team now."
Then Adrian turned and left, while Ethan ran away from the athletics building.
When Ethan returned to the dorm, Blake was lying face-down on his bed, clearly still suffering from his sore ass.
"Here," Ethan said awkwardly, holding up the ice pack he'd prepared. "You should ice it for twenty minutes."
Blake looked surprised but grateful. "You went to the medical center?"
"Also got you some muscle relaxant spray and ointment." Ethan tossed the medicine bottles onto Blake's bed, trying to sound casual. "Take them with food."
"You didn't have to do that," Blake said softly, but he was already reaching for the ice pack. "Thank you."
The simple gratitude in Blake's voice made Ethan's stomach flutter in ways he didn't want to examine. He watched Blake position the ice pack, noticing how carefully he moved.
"Want me to...?" Ethan gestured vaguely at Blake's back.
Blake nodded, and Ethan pulled down Blake's pants, exposing the damaged skin. The red welts were still clearly visible, angry red lines that made Ethan frown with unexpected guilt.
"Jesus," he murmured, carefully positioning the ice pack. "Does it hurt to sit?"
"A little," Blake admitted. "But it's not as bad as it looks."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Blake lying prone while Ethan made sure the ice pack stayed in place. It wasn't about dominance and submission—they were like real close friends, just quiet care between two people.
"Hey," Blake finally said, turning his head to look at Ethan. "Want to come watch my game this weekend? Friday night is the regional semifinal, and if we win, Saturday is the final."
Ethan hesitated. Going to Blake's game felt like crossing some kind of line, being pulled into Blake's life.
"I don't know," he said uncertainly. "I'm not really a sports fan."
"You don't need to understand hockey—half the college audience probably doesn't understand hockey either," Blake laughed. "It's just... it would be nice to have someone there cheering for me. Someone who's not just there for the team."
Ethan's chest tightened, his heartbeat accelerating. "I'll think about it."
"Better decide quickly," Blake grinned. "The game's Friday."
When the ice pack timer went off, Blake carefully stood up, pulling his pants back on. Then, without warning, he leaned forward and gently kissed Ethan's forehead.
"Thank you," he said simply. "For taking care of me."
Before Ethan could respond, Blake grabbed his equipment bag and left for team practice, leaving Ethan alone with that gentle kiss burning on his skin.
After Blake left, Ethan found himself staring at his phone, struggling with the decision about the game. Tickets were probably expensive, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to go...
Finally, he opened the Discord group—that toxic cesspit he was drawn to like a moth to flame. Despite the group's reputation as a digital dumpster fire, it still served as an informal marketplace for campus items. Maybe someone would be selling hockey tickets.
**xXEdgelord420Xx**: yo did anyone catch that cringe engineering presentation today? some kid literally started crying when his code crashed lmaooo
**Anonymous**: pics or it didn't happen
**cumguzzler69**: @Anonymous check the leaked exam answers channel, someone posted his whole breakdown on video 💀
**vapejesus**: speaking of breakdowns, anyone know what happened to that hockey freshman? heard he was acting strange in calc class
**anon_coomer**: which one? there's like 5 of those meathead pretty boys this year
**uwu_girl**: omg are we talking about Blake Banks?? he's so fucking hot 😍😍😍
**xXEdgelord420Xx**: @uwu_girl down bad for jock as usual
**size_queen_420**: can't blame her, did you see him at that beach party? dude's built like a greek god
**eclogues_darklord**: anyone have spare tickets for hockey regionals? semifinals or finals, can pay cash
**GameBot [BOT]**: 🏒 LIVE ODDS UPDATE 🏒
Regional Semifinals: Home Team -2.5 (+110)
Championship Futures: +320
EXCLUSIVE LINKS ⬇️
[Crypto-Sports-Underground.net]
[Anonymous-Betting-Portal.onion]
Click for enhanced markets & prop bets
**xXEdgelord420Xx**: @eclogues_darklord LMAOOO triggered the gambling bot, welcome to hell
**anon_coomer**: @eclogues_darklord why you want tickets? gonna simp for the jocks in person?
**cumguzzler69**: bet he wants to see his boy Banks in action 💀
**vapejesus**: betting action is INSANE this year, someone knows something 👀
**eclogues_darklord**: just want to see the games, tf is wrong with you people
**LineWatcher [VIP]**: Interesting movement on player props. Smart money flowing heavy on certain outcomes 👀
**size_queen_420**: @eclogues_darklord "just the games" sure honey, we all know you're thirsting
**cumguzzler69**: really sports guys won't be hanging out on this channel
**anon_coomer**: yeah, we're either the butterflies trying to cash in on the jocks' games, the bees buzzing around the hot jocks, or the flies just here for all the juicy scandals of those golden boys
**anon_coomer**: @LineWatcher you always say cryptic shit, just spill already
**cumguzzler69**: @eclogues_darklord $200 each, take it or cope
**LineWatcher [VIP]**: @eclogues_darklord Careful who you buy from. Some "sellers" are running scams tied to betting operations 💰
**GameBot [BOT]**: 🎲 LIVE CAMPUS BETTING 🎲
HOCKEY ODDS 🏒 Regional Championship: +110
BASKETBALL 🏀 Conference Finals: -220
FOOTBALL 🏈 Bowl Game: +340 (↗️)
SOCCER ⚽ Spring Season: Various
🔥 HOT ACTION: Hockey futures up 40% this week!
[STUDENT-UNDERGROUND-BOOK.onion] Crypto accepted
**size_queen_420**: @LineWatcher always with the ominous warnings, are you a cop or what?
**cumguzzler69**: watch him pay premium just to stare at sweaty jocks
**size_queen_420**: speaking of sweaty jocks, anyone else notice Banks looking stressed lately?
**horny_on_main**: plot twist: LineWatcher is actually hockey player keeping tabs on us
**vapejesus**: speaking of players, saw Banks and Whitmore together AGAIN at the library
**uwu_girl**: @vapejesus they're probably just studying? teammates help each other
**anon_coomer**: @uwu_girl "studying" 😏 sure sweetie
**cumguzzler69**: bet they're studying anatomy 💀
**size_queen_420**: you guys are obsessed with the idea they're fucking
**eclogues_darklord**: @cumguzzler69 that's way too much for tickets, this is insane
**horny_on_main**: @eclogues_darklord supply and demand bro, everyone wants to see the golden boys play
**anon_coomer**: dude, last year's attendance was less than 40%, and honestly, I only bet half because of Adrian
**uwu_girl**: Same here! But tickets are flying off the shelves this year. What's the name of that new coach? His 'pick up pretty boy' strategy is killing it!
**HockeyDegenerate**: Right? Our school hasn't performed this well in ages. The new freshmen are solid, and I've made some good money betting on them
**cumguzzler69**: @HockeyDegenerate yeah no shit, when's the last time we were this good?
**xXedgelord420Xx**: @HockeyDegenerate Lucky you! But let's give credit where it's due—Adrian's the real star here; he brought his A-game
**LineWatcher [VIP]**: Significant line movement reflects reality. Veterans like Whitmore anchoring, reliable pieces like Morris, plus exceptional freshman class 📈
**anon_coomer**: @LineWatcher "exceptional freshman class" just say you want to fuck Blake
**size_queen_420**: @anon_coomer not just Blake though, O'Brien's been solid too
**horny_on_main**: don't sleep on Jensen, kid's been clutch in net
**uwu_girl**: wait who's Jensen again? I can't keep track of all these boys
**SoccerMom2024**: @uwu_girl the pretty goalie with the baby face 😍
**xXedgelord420Xx**: @SoccerMom2024 "pretty goalie" you sound like such a creep
**HockeyDegenerate**: Morris is the real MVP though, that dude's been steady for three years
**cumguzzler69**: @HockeyDegenerate Eric's solid but he's not flashy, doesn't move betting lines
**vapejesus**: being the only black starter probably adds pressure too
**anon_coomer**: meanwhile Colton can't even get ice time anymore 💀💀💀
**size_queen_420**: @anon_coomer daddy's donations only go so far LMFAO
**SoccerMom2024**: what happened to Colton? he was supposed to be the star
**horny_on_main**: @SoccerMom2024 got outclassed by actual talent, it's beautiful to watch
**uwu_girl**: that seems mean? maybe he's just having a rough season
**xXedgelord420Xx**: @uwu_girl nah he's legit trash, nepotism baby got exposed
**cumguzzler69**: bet he's salty as fuck watching Banks get all the attention
**LineWatcher [VIP]**: Roster turnover creates... tensions. Not everyone adapts well to changing hierarchies 👑
**eclogues_darklord**: @LineWatcher you always talk like you know inside info
**anon_coomer**: @eclogues_darklord he probably does, dude's connected somehow
**vapejesus**: @cumguzzler69 wouldn't you be? goes from prince to benchwarmer in one season
**size_queen_420**: back to betting though, anyone hitting the underground book?
**SoccerMom2024**: @size_queen_420 that link is sketchy as hell, probably scams
**horny_on_main**: @SoccerMom2024 nah it's legit, run by CS grad students, crypto and cash only
**xXedgelord420Xx**: @horny_on_main how do you know it's CS students?
**HockeyDegenerate**: because they're the only ones smart enough to run offshore books and dumb enough to target broke college kids
**cumguzzler69**: @HockeyDegenerate also explains why the interface looks like shit
**uwu_girl**: you guys are literally talking about illegal gambling...
**anon_coomer**: @uwu_girl "illegal" is such a strong word, more like... unregulated
**SoccerMom2024**: anyone notice how many older men are at hockey games now?
**horny_on_main**: success brings bandwagon fans, tale as old as time
**xXedgelord420Xx**: or they're scouting the talent for "private tutoring" 👀
**HockeyDegenerate**: @xXedgelord420Xx that's fucking gross dude
**cumguzzler69**: @HockeyDegenerate gross but probably not wrong, these pretty boy athletes...
**eclogues_darklord**: can we focus on tickets instead of weird conspiracy theories?
**vapejesus**: @eclogues_darklord $150 for semis, $300 for finals, firm prices
**GameBot**: 📊 LIVE ODDS UPDATE 📊
New information suggests potential lineup changes
Insider reports: Key player may be compromised
Adjust your positions accordingly
Premium subscribers get full details: [SUSPICIOUS LINK]
**anon_coomer**: @vapejesus you're not even the original seller, this is like ticket laundering
**size_queen_420**: everything's a business opportunity to you degenerates
**horny_on_main**: watch parties are fun but you miss the authentic jock sweat experience
**SoccerMom2024**: @horny_on_main WHY do you always make it weird?
**xXedgelord420Xx**: @SoccerMom2024 because this is a weird group full of weird people
**eclogues_darklord**: @vapejesus those prices are still insane for college hockey
**HockeyDegenerate**: @eclogues_darklord it's not just college hockey anymore, scouts are coming
**uwu_girl**: I actually hope they win, would be nice to have something positive happen
**eclogues_darklord**: @vapejesus fine, I'll take semifinals for $150, but this better be legit
**vapejesus**: @eclogues_darklord library, 3pm tomorrow, cash only. Don't bring the whole group chat with you
$150 for semifinals, $200 for finals. Ethan finally managed to secure two tickets, but the conversation in the group kept feeling strange—how many people were involved in that betting operation? But Ethan didn't think too long about those unsettling topics. That channel was always filled with dark atmosphere, and the discussion just now could even be called healthy. He needed to prepare to go to the library.
