Danny and I

“But Danny, I’m your best mate for Christ’s sake ! You know I am straight.”

“I know Andy. But straight guys don’t do that, do they ? Look at the picture. Do you look straight in that picture?”

“Maybe we should show the pic to the other guys ? To Julie ? To your parents ? See what they think. See if they think you’re straight.”

* * *

Listen reader, I am straight. Honestly I am. I fuck girls. I watch porn. All the usual shit. It’s just that I have always found some guys attractive. Haven’t you ? I always wondered what it would be like to get off with a guy. It doesn’t mean I’m gay. I really aint gay: I never thought it would actually happen. When that guy made advances to me in the club, I thought we were alone in the toilet. We were in the far cubicle. I didn’t think it would do any harm to experiment: to see what it was like. How was I to know that Danny had followed me in ?

I must have been so far gone, so engrossed in kneeling in front of this guy, so intent on his cock, that I didn’t see Danny filming me with his mobile. I honestly knew nothing about it until now, until I see the evidence here on our TV set. A sick gay porno with me – indisputably me - as the star cocksucker.

We’ve been best mates since first year at university. Three years. We share a flat together. We do everything together, Danny and me. We are known on campus as two of the main men, our girls on our arms and both key members of the football team.

I love him. Not like that for fuck’s sake. I love him. He’s my man. My best mate. And now he stands here before me and looks at me as if I am some sick weirdo.

* * *

“Look I don’t want things to change either Andy. But we cant change what has happened can we ? All this time that we’ve been best mates, and you’ve probably been eyeing up my cock and getting an eyeful of my arse when I get changed.” He stood staring at the TV, the paused image of my shame filling the large screen.

“No Danny I haven’t. I’m not gay man. It was a mistake. I …”

“So what are we going to do about it ?” he said, calmly turning towards me and looking me in the eye.

I moved my eyes down from his glance, looking back now it was undoubtedly my first sign of weakness and submission to him. “I don’t know. I guess it’s up to you Danny. I just want us to stay mates and for this to go away. Please Danny. Don’t tell everyone.”

“You’re my best mate. I wouldn’t do that to you Andy” he said in a monotone voice.

“O thanks Danny. It will never happen again, I promise” I replied, standing up to thank him. Inside my heart was pounding, the relief surging through me like a drug.

With one hand on my shoulder, he sat me down again. He stood in front of me and walked a few steps away.

“But we can’t just forget about it. Things need to be adjusted. We need to think about me and you. Our friendship.”

The pause was long. The silence filled the room and I didn’t know what to say. He was in total command of my future and of our friendship. Whatever he wanted to do next was out of my control. I just knew that I would follow it. Whatever.

* * *

What will happen to Andy now ? How will his best mate change his life ? Any comments or suggestions gratefully received as ever.

Six months have passed. My life is completely different now.

The alarm clock rings at 7.30am. Monday. He has a lecture at 9am. I rise quickly from the wooden floor at the side of his bed and trot naked into the kitchen to make his breakfast. His coffee and his toast, buttered with marmalade. It always smells so great and I yearn for a taste of it every morning.

I pause to try and adjust my cock. My morning erection is harder these days. 43 days since I was last allowed to cum. My cock strains against its prison, locked in its metal chastity prison. Maybe if I please him today he may milk me. I try not to think about it: I may never vocalise my thoughts or wishes to him. My cock is his property and he will do with it as he wishes.

When his breakfast is ready, I take it through to him and place it on his bedside table. He begins to stir, stretching his arms and legs from his warm-looking duvet. Slowly, he pulls back the covers and sits on the edge of his bed. He doesn’t need to tell me any more. On my knees I crawl towards him and take his cock into my mouth. As he drinks his coffee, I drink Master’s morning piss. Concentrating hard to get every drop down my throat, experiencing the acrid smell and taste as it hits the back of my throat. Focusing to clean his cock afterwards.

He is pleased. He takes a piece of toast and spreads some of the jam on his balls. With a nod from him, I lick and suck his balls clean. It always hits me now as I lick his hairy balls: my own balls are as smooth as a baby now I am shaved from the neck down. His hairy, jammy balls are always the second stage of my breakfast, if I pleased him. After his piss.

With a sigh he finishes his toast and lies down again on his bed, spreading his legs. His naked body is magnificent as I climb between his legs and approach his cock. The centre of my world now. Not a word has been exchanged but I am used to my morning routine. I take his growing member into my mouth and start to suck as it grows. My eyes taking in his free body, his closed eyes and smiling mouth. Content in his power over me.

His cock grows in my mouth. It is what my mouth is for now, I am told by him. He lies and continues to relax as I work my mouth up and down his free, straight cock. I feel his balls churn against my chin and sure enough he explodes in my mouth, his cum blasting the back of my throat. My cock lurches in its prison: it seems so unfair that he blasts my throat every morning and yet I am forbidden from the most basic sexual satisfaction.

I am as careful as ever to hold his load and climb down to kneel beside his bed. He lies there for a few moments and then sits up to look at me. I must look so pathetic to him, kneeling there naked and cockless, but he doesn’t show it. He nods at me and I open my mouth, showing him the cum which I am swirling around my mouth. He likes to know that I am tasting Him.

He stands above me, showing his control over me. “Swallow.” His first word of the day is always the same.

And so I swallow another load of His cum. My first of the day. He is still of course my best mate, he promised me that. What I didn’t realise was that he would become my owner as well.

As he goes to brush his teeth, I quickly tidy his bed and make it presentable for him. Then I rush into the bathroom to ensure he is not kept waiting. I open my mouth wide and tilt my head back. Deliberately, he leans over me and spits the contents of his mouth – the toothpaste and spit from his brushing - into my mouth. It’s the nearest I get to cleaning my mouth now: I don’t have a toothbrush. I swallow it dutifully.

He re-enters the bedroom and stands, ready for my dressing. Wordlessly I begin to dress him. He would not even know where to get his clothes from these days. One day a week is spent washing and ironing his clothes now: it is all that I do on a Sunday. If ever he were to find an item of his clothing unprepared, unironed, I would suffer. It doesn’t happen any more though. I work until it is done. Whilst he plays sports, goes out and has a few beers on a Sunday afternoon with our mates, I stay in and “study” : no-one else knows that my study involves the washing and ironing of every piece of clothing that my owner has.

I pull his carefully pressed CKs up his muscular legs and carefully position his cock as he likes it, to the right. I pull up his white running shorts and his sports T shirt, and then put on his white socks and trainers. I make a mental note that his toe nails require trimming. I will need to take care of that the next time that I service His feet with my mouth. Now, he is ready for his morning run, looking magnificent as opposed to me, grovelling naked at his feet.

“Turn around,” he states. I turn and present my arse to him as he gets his key ready. He unlocks the padlock and slips it in his pocket. Quickly, he removes the locking device from my arse crack.

“Release” he states. And I push the plug from out of my arse into my hands, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“Thank you Sir for allowing me to shit,” I beg.

“You are pathetic. Do you know that?” he states, as he opens the door and exits for his run.

20 minutes I have. 20 minutes to shit, clean out my arse with an enema, replace the plug and have the device in position for him to re-lock when he returns. And then to be kneeling at the door for his return, coffee in hands.

The only 20 minutes of the day when my arse is free from its plug. The only time I am allowed to shit.

When Master Danny, my former best mate and now my owner, returns from his run, he is not in the mood for pleasantries. I pull off his clothing carefully and place them in the basket for washing later in the week. Master Danny never wears any item of clothing more than once: why bother when you have a personal slave to clean and wash after you ?

As usual, Master stands naked and drinks his coffee as I lick the sweat from his balls. When he is happy that they have been cleaned he turns around. With long sweeping licks, I clean Master’s arse crack for Him.

He is now ready for his shower. He climbs into the shower and I begin to wash His body. Soaping up His muscular frame is always mesmerising, rubbing against His firm, athletic body. Captain of the soccer team. Dreamboat straight guy, with his own personal slave. I always pay particular attention to washing his cock, balls and arse. They now seem so alien to me, as I am locked in chastity and my arse plugged.

Twenty minutes later and he has been dried and dressed. I grovel naked at his feet and for the first time think about what I will be wearing today.

“Suppose we had better dress you boy” he states, matter-of-factly. “We are going to the gym this afternoon, so you need your gym kit. I want you dressed now in your cut offs and pink t-shirt. No underwear.”

“Yes sir. Please Sir, if we are going to gym, do I not need underwear for the changing rooms Sir?” I grovel. It is a risk to question Him, but I am afraid of taking off my tight jeans and revealing my shaved genitals and arse, and the metal chastity device covering my enslaved cock.

“If I was concerned about you displaying your shaved clit, I would have said. I said no underwear.”

“Yes Sir.”

“And no socks either. Wear your sandals.”