Kyle unlocked the chastity cage, sliding the tube from Henry’s hardening cock before taking off the ring at the base of his balls. Some pubes were growing back on his crotch, and naturally, Henry spread his legs wide enough for Kyle to feel his manhood. His large hand weighed his balls, his deft fingers rolling each nut gently to check if they were healthy and full.
A shudder seized Henry’s body. He let a long breath out when Kyle stroked him. Just two long and slow strokes from hilt to head.
“Damn, bro,” Henry straightened his back and pushed into Kyle’s hand. “Sir!”
Then, a sharp slap on his cockhead and the sting that followed reminded him to be a good boy. No thrusting, no pleasure unless he was given express permission. Kyle might have granted him a few seconds of pleasure, but that didn’t mean he had the right to lean into it. There would be no cumming for him; that much had been made clear the day he’d been locked.
“I’m sorry,” Henry whispered.
“It’s all right, baby,” Kyle told him, cradling his face. “It’s in your nature. Cumming is the first thing dudes think about when they get horny. But you can’t, can you? Why is that?”
Henry stared at his feet; the bathroom turned cold for a moment. It was too quiet. He wanted to curl up in a little ball, but Kyle wouldn’t let him. His fingers squeezed Henry’s jaw gently, forcing his eyes up. Discipline had been a part of Henry’s life ever since he could remember. He hadn’t wanted to become a football player, but his parents were adamant that he should. What he lacked in academic skills, he made up for with physical prowess.
Even when he yelled back at his coaches in anger, he was quick to bow his head and follow their commands when they yelled back. That made him a good little soldier and a great team player.
It seemed it also made him a great slave.
“Because I’m the house’s slave,” Henry replied, watching precum ooze out of his painfully hard dick.
“You’d be right about that, bro,” Kyle tickled Henry’s balls with the tips of his fingers. “Time for a shave.”
From the cupboard above the sink, Kyle grabbed some shaving cream and a four-blade razor. It ran smoothly on Henry’s sensitive skin, and Kyle took care to tug and pull at the right moments so it wouldn’t nip Henry. The humiliation was less than getting passed around, yet seeing the man of his dreams handle him like a piece of meat caused Henry to blush a radiant shade of red. His muscles hardened, his hole squeezed the plug keeping Kyle’s sweet seed inside him. His stomach was full, it was like he’d been impregnated, and he smiled at the thought.
“What’s the smile about?” Kyle asked, cleaning off the razor with a soft grin.
“Nothing,” Henry said, his hand wandering dangerously close to his dick.
Kyle’s eyebrows shot up, and Henry leaned back into the tiled wall, hands behind his back, manhood standing at attention and begging to be touched. The veins running up his shaft pumped more blood into his head, making it grow until it nearly hurt. Its shine, purplish color, and the tight circumcision scar aroused Henry to no end. He should’ve felt ashamed of being worked up by his own cock.
As if he’d noticed, Kyle pushed him to his knees. “Don’t get too cocky, that dick of yours is awesome, but it’s not getting any more action today.” Kyle kissed Henry’s tender neck, pressing two fingers against the tapered end of the butt plug so it would tease all the right spots. Henry moaned. “You like that, baby. Me taking care of you like this.”
Kyle had remained soft up to this point, remarkably. But now that he was toying with Henry, his cock had grown to its full, wonderfully thick and long size. With his tongue out, Henry licked the length of it playfully, eyes never straying from Kyle’s domineering gaze. His dark irises were mesmerizing, warm even in the bathroom’s cold light.
His knees ached on the tiles, but Henry was too focused on unhinging his jaw to accommodate the enormous cock he eagerly worshipped. Like the good boy he was, he twirled his tongue around the head, kept his teeth out of the way, and massaged the hefty nuts hitting his chin.
His own hardness distracted him; his nipples were so sensitive the air was enough to tease them. Not according to Kyle, however, who began to twist them as Henry gobbled him up more and more confidently.
“Such a great cocksucker,” Kyle growled. “You’ve really grown into loving this super fast, dude!”
Baby, I like it better when you call me that. Henry wanted to say. Instead, he sucked and sucked, drooling over the floor. A pair of hands grabbed the back of his head and forced him to swallow more than he could handle. Choking, Henry tried to focus his breathing through his nose. He relaxed his throat, and quickly, Kyle began to skullfuck him with powerful thrusts. Tears streamed down his face, but Henry pushed through. He gagged, almost lurched over at some point, but he never relented.
Good boy, good boy. He told himself like a mantra.
Without warning, warmth hit the back of his throat. Cum trickled down his throat, and he swallowed. Not a drop could be wasted, or else he’d ask for punishment himself.
“Look at yourself,” Kyle said, helping Henry up as he let his marvelous cock slip out of his mouth.
The mirror reflected back a man with flushed cheeks, bruised lips, and blooming hickeys. His hair stuck out in every direction, and his eyes were still red from all the crying. But Henry was proud of his looks.
“Thank you for this.” Henry leaned into Kyle and hugged him at the waist.
“You liked this better than Anton’s fisting session?”
Henry nodded. “Yeah, I know I’m meant to be used by everybody. But if I could choose, I’d only get used by you.”
“Why is that?”
“Just because I like you touching me.”
“I’m no different than the other guys,” Kyle answered, tracing Henry’s defined abs with shy fingers. “What makes me different?”
“You’re the most handsome of the bunch,” Henry admitted, laughing. “Pretty shallow of me, right?”
“I guess.” Kyle tousled Henry’s blond hair some more. “I think you’re drop-dead gorgeous, too. But I don’t want you to get any ideas. I don’t want you to want anything more than this. We all belong to each other.”
“But what about Anton and…”
“They’re different… But me, I…” Kyle shook his head and stared into the mirror. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. That’s all. Don’t expect too much of me.”
Henry sighed and shut his eyes tight. “Okay.”
An embrace wasn’t enough to make up for getting his heart trampled. But Kyle hugged him long enough for Henry to breathe normally again.
“Are you still up for dinner?” Kyle asked. “I really want to know you, and I want you to know me. Maybe once you see me for who I am, it’ll be easier for you to let me go. The idea you have of me.”
“What if I come to like you more?”
“Then you’re as hopeless as I think you are.” Kyle placed a kiss on top of Henry’s head and led him into the showers.
The grime, cum, and sweat washed down the drain.
Some ice had to be used to calm the hard-on Henry couldn’t get rid of, and even with that, the cage was a tight squeeze. It hurt a bit when it was locked back on, but relief replaced frustration. Henry hadn’t been a disappointment. He had served his purpose. He hadn’t cum.
Kyle had unloaded twice thanks to him, and if it was the only thing he was good for, Henry would take that as a win. Being a slut wasn’t so bad, and if Kyle didn’t claim him, Henry would make the most of it and gobble down as many dicks as he could.
College was a breeding ground, and many horny jocks like him and the Oakfield House boys sauntered around campus waiting for a good hole to fill. Until he was freed, his mouth and asshole were his only means to get off. So, he’d use those.
Once his cock was released, though, he’d breed as many muscle boys as he could.
Unfortunately, as attractive as the idea was, Henry couldn’t help but hope for something deeper between him and Kyle. Why him specifically? He couldn’t tell.
Sometimes feelings worked against you, and this might be one of those times.
“Let’s leave around 7:30,” Henry told Kyle before exiting the bathroom. “I’m fucking starving.”
He let the door hang open and made his way to his room, getting a couple of whistles from Jeremy and a slap on the butt by Anton. The attention was nice, but resentment lingered under his easy smile. Henry couldn’t quite figure out why Kyle played the tortured-jock card.
What could a rich boy like him hide?
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