Part 3 of the story of D'n'M, just like Parts 1 and 2, includes sex between teenage boys, some of it non-consensual. As before, it is the characters themselves and how they react to events that are key to whatever success the story achieves.
Welcome to new readers. In order to properly understand why and how Dan and Milo have got to where they are at the start of Part 3, I strongly recommend you read Parts 1 and 2.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at pjalexander1753@gmail.com
This story of D'n'M, past, present and future, is dedicated to Clint and his `Milo'. They know who they are.
PJ
D'n'M Part 3
From Chapter 3:
The feeling of the razor being scraped across his lower torso was one of the most sensual experiences of Milo's fifteen years. It was like being repeatedly stroked by a set of manicured finger nails. Needless to say one half of his mind immediately set off into teenage boy fantasy heaven and the first thing to join it on its journey was Milo's dick. Within seconds it was rock hard again and desperately straining inside the even more limited space available for expansion, the waist band of the swimsuit having been pulled down. The other half of his mind hurriedly went into `cool it and calm down' mode, desperately trying to take the heat out of the situation. But it was hopeless, Milo's boner was not open to persuasion. Relief, when it put in an appearance, came from a completely unexpected direction.
Dods said, "M my friend, we need to do something about that boner!"
Chapter 4:
We'. He said, We'. Half of Milo's mind started performing mental somersaults but he didn't dare look at Dods as he squirmed with obvious mammoth boner embarrassment (it was the embarrassment that was mammoth, not the boner), or maybe the squirming was down to an increasingly irresistible urge to jerk-off. Whichever it was, Dods was there to offer a helping hand (pun intended). He stepped into the bathtub to join Milo who glanced across and down towards the older boy. He couldn't stop himself. His gaze came to rest with the front of Dods' Speedo in the very centre of his vision. What he saw couldn't have been more confusing to the two halves of his mind -- one half was disconcerted and the other was delighted. Dods was hard, really hard, and clearly straining for release. Pretty much a mirror of Milo himself.
"I'd be very happy to help you out with your not-so-little Speedo problem, if you want me to, that is. But first I'm gonna tell you something and, whatever I say and whatever your answer, you have to swear never to tell another person, ever. Do you promise?"
"How can I, if I don't know what it is I'm promising?"
"I can only tell you what it is once I'm convinced you're never gonna tell, and I'll only know that once I've heard you promise. It's your choice. Yeah, it's a sort of Catch 22 situation I know, but what I can say is that it's nothing bad and nothing that's gonna hurt you in any way. Just the opposite." Dods was trying hard to be as convincing as he could possibly be.
Now things were getting weird thought Milo and he really wasn't sure how to make sense of it. There he was, standing in a bathtub with a raging hard-on (him, not the tub), with a sort-of promise of imminent relief from his red hot older team-mate, but only if he swore a promise to do who knew what but to not tell anybody. Half of his mind was desperate to make whatever promise Dods wanted, convinced it could only be something that would ease the ache that was building up in his balls. The other half was thinking of D and what had happened to him when he'd been alone with an older guy and things had turned sexual, and nasty. Not that Dods was anything like Mr. Roberts of course, Milo knew that, but you couldn't be too careful, he'd learned that lesson from D's horrible experience. He definitely didn't want to end up in the kind of dreadful state D had been in. That's what his sensible half was telling him. Make no promises. Walk away.
What to do?
"If it helps I can tell you that every other shaved guy on the team has been asked to make the same promise and every one of them has done it, and no-one has come to any harm, I guarantee it. Although they have all cum, if you get my meaning." There was that grin again.
What to do?
"Look," Dods could tell from Milo's silence that he was seriously conflicted. "It's not some sort of hazing thing or ritual humiliation like you might have heard goes on in some places. Believe me, it's totally nothing like that. And there are no hidden cameras or microphones. Honestly, it's nothing you're not gonna love."
Oh, what the hell! Dods did sound very genuine and, more than anything else, Milo's balls needed relief. "Okay, okay, whatever it is, I promise never to tell. Now can we pleeease fast forward. I'm gonna burst here soon!"
Dods' face registered both relief and pleasure, relief that he'd finally convinced Milo to make the promise and pleasure at what he knew was to come.
"Great. So, it's like this, you've heard the older guys on the team sometimes calling each other CB?" asked Dods.
"Yeah, of course, you seniors seem to call each other that all the time," replied Milo.
"And did you ever ask yourself what it meant?"
"Well, yeah, I did wonder about it once or twice but it never really bothered me. I just reckoned it was something you older guys did between yourselves. Like a `big boys clique within the team' sort of thing." By now Milo was subconsciously stroking his aching boner through the thin fabric of his Speedo. Had he glanced down he would have seen Dods doing exactly the same to his.
"Yeah, well, sort of. It's something that doesn't happen until a guy's first time shave."
"You mean like me, today?"
"Yeah. And it is a team thing -- kind of."
"Okaay. So you gonna tell me or not? I have promised, like you wanted." Milo was becoming impatient. His slightly peevish tone prompted Dods to move things along, after all, he was just as keen as M to get to the main event.
"Right, so, you know about blood brothers?"
"Kids who cut their hands or fingers and rub their blood together?"
"Yeah, you see it in old black and white buddy movies, a sort of BFF thing but bigger. It means you'll always be there for your blood brother, no matter what."
"So is that what we're gonna do, make ourselves blood brothers?"
"Blood brothers would be BB's. The guys on the team are CB's."
At that point in the conversation, with Milo's mind jumping about in all directions, trying to make sense of this very strange situation, one half of that very active mind came up with a truly horrible thought.
"CB's. You don't mean ... Cock Brothers? Tell me you haven't just made me promise to cut my dick and make it bleed." Just the idea immediately had blood draining from both his face and his dick. Why hadn't he listened to the sensible half of his mind and refused to make the promise? How had he managed to allow himself to get into this mess? The sensible half of his mind was going ballistic, blaming the other for what it feared was about to happen.
Dods burst out laughing at such an outrageous idea, but he quickly became serious again when he saw how pale and worried Milo looked. "Fuck no, nothing so gross. And don't you remember I told you that you wouldn't get hurt?"
Milo had to admit to himself that Dods had told him that, but he'd forgotten about it until now.
"Okay, if that's not it, then what does CB's mean and what do I have to do to become one?"
"CB's are CUM Brothers." Dods grinned. Milo looked confused.
"Huh?"
"Whenever a member of the team is shaved for the first time it's always by a senior member, and that senior always invites the newbie to become a Cum Brother."
"How?" One half of Milo's mind, having recovered from being beaten up (unfairly in its opinion) by the other half, thought this sounded like a very interesting suggestion and definitely had potential. The other half, surprise, surprise, had yet to be convinced.
"It's like this," continued Dods, "Getting shaved got you seriously hard, right?"
Milo nodded, looking down and immediately becoming aware of a significant deflation in his Speedo area. The thought of cutting your dick and making it bleed can, believe it or not, have that effect!
"Don't worry, it'll soon come back," Dods reassured him. Glancing across, Milo saw that the older boy's bulge area was exactly that -- impressively bulging.
"And it's gonna happen the same every time you get shaved, believe me. I know. So rather than pretend it doesn't happen but still get all embarrassed when it does, we all agree to be Cum Brothers. After every shave, with our dicks boned up and desperate, we jerk ourselves off and cum over each other. That way it doesn't matter who we shave with cos we know it'll end up exactly the same with whoever, but we don't go round shouting about it cos other people just wouldn't understand. Got it? It was Tom Reed who came up with the idea in the first place when he was captain, as a sort of team bonding thing. And let's face it, who's gonna turn down an opportunity to cum?"
Trust Tom to come up with such an amazing idea, but ideas are all very well but all this talk of jerking-off and cumming, not to mention the close proximity of a near naked and arrestingly hot team-mate, had the inevitable effect on Milo's dick. "Sounds good to me. What are we waiting for?" he asked, slipping his hand inside his Speedo.
"Okaaay. Good man." responded Dods, somehow squeezing both hands inside his very tight swimsuit, cupping his junk and then flipping out an impressive, neatly-cut, 7-inch hard-on and a pair of plum-sized balls in a well-hung sack. Milo's five plus inches quickly followed suit, standing straight and proud and more than ready for action.
"You need lube?" asked Dods.
"Nah. I make a lot of my own, so I don't always need it. See?" And Dods did see -- a large bead of pre-cum forming at the quivering tip of Milo's dick, which, as he watched, became bigger and bigger until it could no longer support its own weight and gracefully transformed into a long, tear-drop shaped, descending strand.
Dods whistled. "Neat." He reached out a tentative hand. "Can I?"
"Er sure, be my guest," invited Milo nervously.
Dods stretched out a finger, scooped up the translucent liquid and transferred it to his lips. "Nice!"
Milo was startled but impressed by Dods' confidence. It seemed to rub off onto him. "If you need lube help yourself, I've got lots," he offered, much less nervous this time. From the looks on both boys' faces it wasn't clear who was more surprised by such a bold offer, and Milo couldn't help wondering where on earth the thought had come from (one half of his mind could very easily have supplied the answer). However, he had no time to dwell on it because he was then struck with the gut-churning realisation that, by offering another guy free use of your pre-cum, you were pretty much making a public announcement that you're gay. Crap! How was Dods going to react. Not for the first time, nor the last, Dods surprised him.
"Thanks, bud, don't mind if I do. You know, I always thought I made a lot of pre-cum but you've got me beat." So saying, Dods held his hand under the dripping end of Milo's dick for a few seconds and then transferred the slippery contents to his own flaring dick-head, smearing it over and around and coating it with a glistening sheen. Pausing only to cup his ball-sack with his other hand, Dods then expertly gripped his seven inches of throbbing teenage excitement and set about the serious business of stroking himself to what he hoped would be an explosive climax to impress his younger team-mate.
Milo, meanwhile, collected a good measure of his own free-flowing pre-cum and, in imitation of Dods, greased himself ready for action. He didn't immediately go into full-speed jerk-off action, preferring to take it slow and steady, the better to enjoy watching his new friend's performance.
Dods was definitely caught up in the intensity of the moment and it was clear that he was no longer aware of Milo's presence in the bathtub. His knees were bent, his butt muscles clenched and his hips rhythmically thrusting forwards and up as the speed of his stroking increased.
"Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah," he repeated over and over. With each downward stroke of his jerking hand the wetly purple dick-head was revealed, until the movement became a blur and `Oh yeah' became "Oh fuck," which, in turn, became "I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna. ..."
Suddenly Milo was back on Dods' radar. "Lay down in the tub," he ordered. When a very surprised Milo didn't immediately respond Dods shouted, "Now. I'm gonna cum. Lay DOWN!"
Milo did as he was told, letting go of his own rigid boyhood and laying down between Dods' legs in the bottom of the tub and looking up as the older boy enthusiastically reached his crescendo. With a triumphant cry of, "I'm cumming!" Dods began to unload the contents of his balls over Milo's torso. He was more of an oozer than a shooter but, by the time the last dribbles were dripping from his dick, there was a decent amount of creamy white boycum decorating Milo's body. Milo was blown away. He'd just had a worm's-eye view of Dods' dick and balls as he jerked them to a sizzling climax and then been cum over (overcum?). It was just like the camera angle popular in some of his favourite porno vids.
"Your turn now buddy," Dods managed to gasp out between laboured breaths as he pulled Milo to his feet, immediately changing places with him at the bottom of the bathtub. Milo needed no further inducement. He scooped up some of Dods' cooling boy-juice from his tummy for extra lube and then gripped his still rock hard tool.
"Go for it, bud. Cum on me."
Milo barely heard Dods' encouragement, his concentration being wrapped up (much like his dick) in the real and amazing hotness of what was happening to him. He had no time or thought for stroking his nipples or fingering his butt hole. Barely thirty seconds after taking himself in hand his balls pulled up tight to the root of his dick and the first bullet of cum hit Dods square in the middle of his chest. The second went flying beyond the end of the bathtub and the third made a graceful arc and fell close to Dods' tummy button. The rest of this monumental load dripped down Milo's dick and balls, landing directly on Dods' upper torso, due to the simple fact that, after blast number three, Milo's legs could no longer hold him upright and he found himself kneeling astride Dods' body at the bottom of the bathtub, desperately dragging air into his lungs.
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