The following story is entirely fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. This story contains descriptions of sex between consenting, adult males. If such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, if you are under legal age, or if you are offended by such material DO NOT READ IT. The author retains all rights to this work and you may not copy or transmit it in any way except in it's entirety and with this disclaimer.
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Recap; Pt 1 & 2 College Jock Joe has a chance encounter with the sports hero of his jack off fantasies during a volunteer outing at the ballpark. Things go terribly wrong for Joe when his hero catches him masturbating in the clubhouse...Major League Baseball player Chris Stone decides it's time to test the limits of how low his new "ball boy" is willing to go....
Where we left off: "This is your new uniform ballboy. You will not wash it and you will wear it always." He removed the marker, folded the note and tucked it into his shorts. Joe stared at the pouch closely. It was heavily soiled, patches of dried cum and piss had created obscene and crusty markings. In the center of the pouch was a fresh puddle of cum. The intersection of the pouch and straps showed telltale signs of skidmarks. Joe brought the pouch to his face and inhaled deeply. Withdrawing it slowly he noticed scribbled writing on the back of the wide elastic band. It read "Property of Chris Stone".
He stared at the musty jockstrap of his hero, his master. He wanted to cry. He wanted to run. Instead, he uncapped the magic marker and walked slowly to the last stall in the bathroom.
Part 3
The Dorm
After scrawling his phone number, and declaring himself as a suck whore for ballplayers, Joe headed back to campus as quickly as his feet would carry him. On the journey he tried to sort out the depths of perversion that he had inadvertently stumbled into. Walking into his dorm room, he was glad to discover his roommate was not there. He immediately checked the answering machine and to his relief, the message light was not blinking. Joe made a mental note to call the Phone Company first thing Monday and get a separate phone installed for his roommate.
A shower was now all Joe could concentrate on. In his bedroom, he shucked his clothes and stared at Chris's jockstrap on the bed; his new "uniform". Picking it up, he drew it closer to his face and inhaled deeply. His cock sprang to life instantly. The stench of Chris Stone's crotch flooded his senses and he stroked himself. His fist pounded with fury, his chest muscles flexed so much they hurt. Within moments, his second batch of semen of the day was squirting out from his raging cock like bullets, shooting across the room and splatting everywhere. Joe's knees buckled as the last drop of seed oozed. He shook his head quickly and watched as the remaining dickslime oozed to the wood floor below. A sad, but content smile washed over him. His emotions were conflicted, but his cock would never lie to him. He threw the filthy jock pouch on the bed and headed for the bathroom.
As the hot, cleansing water poured over his body, Joe allowed himself to forget for the moment what he had been reduced to. He never heard the door to his room open and close, announcing his roommate's return. And he never heard the phone ring.
Stepping from the shower, he began to dry himself when he heard sounds outside the bathroom door. Kevin was back. They had only been sharing the dorm room for a few months and the two had yet to really bond. His roommate majored in criminal justice and his nose was always jammed in a pile of textbooks. Early efforts to distract Kevin away from his studies for a trip to the local pub were always unsuccessful. He took his schoolwork very seriously. Studying crime and punishment was his passion.
Kevin was from the Midwest, a short, stocky, but muscular guy with a quiet, reserved manner. His hair was always close cropped in a military style buzz cut. Intense, deep brown eyes offset his angular facial features. On many levels, Joe was secretly attracted to the Kevin and hoped that over time, Kevin would not worry about being fully clothed around the apartment. That comfort level, however, had yet to come. He was always fully dressed, usually in sweats and T-shirts.
"Hey Kev..." Joe bellowed through the door as he dried off. There was no reply. Joe wrapped the damp towel around his waist and opened the door to the bathroom. Kevin was frozen in position at the threshold of Joe's bedroom. The cordless was gripped tightly in his hand by his side. Joe walked trepidly toward him. As he drew closer he could tell that Kevin was transfixed. He stood glaring at the jock strap, Chris's jockstrap. Joe froze in his tracks...the writing on the waistband was in plain view!
Joe brushed quickly by him and rushed to move the articles of clothing on the bed. He turned to face Kevin.
"What's up dude?" he blurted out, his face turning a deep shade of red.
"You just got one seriously fucked up call." Kevin narrowed his eyes and stared directly at Joe.
"Yeah?" Joe shifted nervously form one foot to the other. "Who was it?"
"Wouldn't leave his name." Kevin's eyes glanced down to the puddle of fresh cum on the floor and then back up to Joe. "Said some guy Chris told him to call you for a good time...Said you knew how to take good care of his equipment..."
"Musta been a prank call dude..." Joe tried to force a laugh but the effort was clearly a nervous reaction. He sat on the side of the bed and started to pull on his socks. He avoided looking his roommate straight in the eye. "Just ignore it."
"Whatever" Kevin turned to walk away form his roommate's bedroom. "But he said you should be at the North Street bus station at 9:00 tonight. Or else." His voice trailed off as he walked away.
Joe sat sullen on the side of his bed. What was he going to do now? Who was the caller? What had Chris done? Confused and frightened, his head hung low as he considered his options. His seemingly easy life was turning upside down. He could meet the stranger, or blow it off. Maybe this was a joke. Or maybe it was a test. There was only one way to find out. He would have to go to North Street. Joe looked at his watch. It was already 8:00 PM. The clock was ticking. His heart was racing.
Shaking off his inner most fears, he stood and closed the bedroom door. Reaching under his laundry on the bed, he retrieved the jock strap. Joe stood in front of the full-length mirror and slid his new "uniform" on. The large, well broken in supporter was loose on Joe's narrow hips. The band hung down, exposing his dark copper pubic crop. The pouch, stretched from years of hugging Chris Stones meaty cock, seemed to dwarf Joe's smaller endowment. Joe inspected himself carefully. His body, though toned and well defined, suddenly seemed underscaled and scrawny in a real man's apparatus. He reached to his bureau, pulled out his jeans and slid them on, over the jockstrap. He peeled a polo shirt over his head, slipped into his boat shoes and took one last glance in the mirror. As he combed his fingers through his hair, Joe was determined to figure a way out of this mess.
He walked out from his bedroom to the living room. Kevin, in his standard issue grey sweats, lounged on the sofa, his legs spread wide, his nose buried in a book. He glanced up at Joe, said nothing and returned to his reading. Joe took the seat opposite him and leaned back. The silence between the two young men was obvious and thick. Joe mindlessly gazed at the lump formed in Kevin's crotch, safe in knowing that his attentions were oblivious to his roommate. He allowed himself to daydream, to fantasize about Kevin's cock. He imagined himself crawling over to his roommate and begging to suck his meat.
"You gonna go to North Street?" Kevin blurted, snapping Joe out of his trance. He looked up at Kevin to witness his steely glare. Joe was not sure how long he had been transfixed on his roommate's crotch, or how long Kevin had been aware of it.
"Nah." Joe was caught off guard. "I'm going to the pub and hang with the guys." His lie was not convincing.
"Yeah right...whatever you say..." Kevin sneered at him, reached down to let his hand rest on his crotch and returned his nose to the book. Joe froze and he stared at Kevin's knuckles as they worked slowly against the growing lump. The outline of his roommate's cock was becoming plainly obvious. Kevin moved his hand away from his mound and Joe's eyes widened as he watched the ominous bulge begin to bob up and down. His roommate's dick muscle was throbbing through his sweat pants - seemingly with a mind of its own!
Joe began to sweat. He felt his own cock beginning to stir. He shook his head, not certain he was seeing what he was...Could this really be happening? Joe stood and walked to the kitchen and grabbed his house keys off the table.
"Catch ya later Kev" Joe motioned.
"Yes you will Ball Boy"... He replied, never taking his nose out from his book. Joe stared at his roommate as his heart sank. Things at the dorm, Joe surmised, would not be simple from this day forward. He closed the door softly and walked apprehensively toward his mysterious encounter at North Street.
North Street Station
At the Bus station, Joe fidgeted. The station had been built in the 50's. A steady film of grim had developed on just about every surface. Efforts to clean it or renovate had been abandoned when bus travel fell out of favor. Today it was a lonely, dismal depository for panhandlers and homeless people. The clock on the wall read 9:10. He scanned the dated depot several times but never met eye contact. Joe sat sullenly on a hard plastic chair and watched the front entry with anticipation.
At 9:20, his fate walked through the door. A tall, broad shouldered man, about 50 swaggered in. He had a hard, chiseled face with a 5 o'clock shadow. He wore a dark brown, leather bomber jacket, faded jeans and workboots. Joe immediately took note of the faded bulge at the stranger's crotch. A lump grew in his throat. This must be him.
Within moments, his eyes focused in on Joe. He had hunger and lust written all over his face. A shiver ran down Joe's spine as the stranger sized him up. After a long hard moment the stranger averted his eyes from Joe and walked directly to the men's room. Joe felt his palms begin to sweat. He wasn't sure exactly what to do. Instinct drew him to his feet - he followed the stranger into the bathroom.
Opening the door, the stench of urine flooded his senses. The bathroom was poorly lit but he quickly scanned the rank space. This was, Joe concluded, the most disgusting place he had ever been. The stranger stood at the urinal and looked up at Joe. Without a sound or gesture, he beckoned Joe over to him with his eyes. Joe pulled up alongside the stranger at the urinal.
"I'm Joe." He spoke barely above a whisper. The stranger said nothing, but began to stroke his cock earnestly. "Chris..." Joe stammered. "said I would take care of your equipment?"
"Faggot." The stranger stepped back, exposing his hefty cock and the river of urine streaming from it. "This what you want?" he shook the stream wildly against the porcelain.
"Yes sir" Joe muttered, his eyes riveted to the man's meat. Uncut, it was easily 8 inches. The piss stream squirted from the layers of skin that closed around the head.
"Get on your fuckin knees." The stranger bellowed and Joe fell instantly. The man turned quickly and began to aim his piss stream at Joe's face. Joe pulled back in horror but not quickly enough. The man grabbed him by the hair and pulled Joe closer. The jet of hot urine was inches from Joe's mouth, splashing all over. "Open your goddam queer mouth" the man growled and yanked Joe's head by the hair. Joe's lips parted and the warm liquid waste began to pour into his mouth. Joe struggled but could not help but to swallow. The acrid taste disgusted him, reduced him. The stranger just smiled at his conquest.
"Yeah... you look real pretty down there pussy boy" The stream began to subside and he began to stuff his entire cock into Joe's mouth. Without skipping a beat, the stranger began to violently rape Joe's mouth. His hands clamped tight behind Joe's head, he rocked his the full weight of his hips into Joe's reluctant throat - deeper and harder with each thrust.
There was no time to gag. Joe felt the tears well up in his eyes as his throat was assaulted. There he knelt, coated in piss, his mouth eagerly pleasing Chris Stone's friend. He had become a whore for Chris. He resented it, he loved it. He was proud of it. If this is what it took to win the respect of his hero - he would do it. Joe would do whatever Chris asked.
Just about when it felt like Joe's throat was about to collapse, the stranger withdrew his cock. He held Joe's head firmly and tugged at his fat hog like a madman. Joe's eyes widened as the steady blast of jism poured from the blood engorged cock before him, coating his hair and face with cockslime. The stranger let out a low groan and shook the remaining drops of spew onto Joe's nose. A quiet fell between the two men as the stranger retracted his softening cock and zipped up his fly.
"What do you say?" he spoke firmly, looking down at Joe.
"Thank you sir" Joe squeaked. The stranger laughed at him.
"You're fucking pathetic. You know that queerboy?"
"Yes sir. I am." The stranger pushed Joe back onto the crusty piss stained floor.
"Clean yourself up faggot. I don't know who the hell Chris is, but thank him for me when you see him." The stranger turned on his heels, exited the rest room and left Joe sitting in a puddle of piss.
As the door slammed, tears began to well in Joe's eyes.
To be continued.