FRATSLAVE: a love story
FIVE. WAKING UP
I wake up in my own comfortable bed, on my side, confused and trembling. I mutter, "Please no more."
I hear a voice calling me. "Dante, Dante, wake up, sweetheart." His hand caresses my back and to my surprise, there's no pain. "Dante, it was only a bad dream. I've got you, baby."
His arms hold me tight and he kisses the back of my neck and where it meets my shoulders. He's the big spoon and his body is warm against me. His hard cock is resting in the crack in my ass and my ass is kind of sore. I begin to remember. Colton spanked me last night with his huge hands and I cried, just like in the dream, but he stopped spanking me and tossed the paddle on the floor. He kissed my tears then helped me off his knees and down to the floor.
I wiped my tears in his pubes then licked the side of his hard cock, such a delicious cock. "that's a good boy, Dante. Love your Master. Make me feel good the way I like."
I kiss his dick, up and down all six inches of it then wrap my lips around his crown and make love to it with my tongue. He moans and that's one of the most beautiful sounds because it lets me know I am giving my Master pleasure.
Colton runs his fingers through my hair and gently pushes my mouth down on his cock and I feel its strength and taste the salty sweet sweat and it's the most wonderful taste in the entire world. "down all the way, Dante, like a good slaveboy. Love your Master." Gradually I become aware of how much I adore this cock in my mouth, of how much I adore my lover, my Master, the most wonderful man I've ever met.
Colton reaches down and puts his hands under my arms. He gently pulls me up from the floor. I groan when his cock slips from my mouth. "That's okay, slaveboy, you'll be back on my cock in a little while." His voice is just a little deep and very smooth and I love to listen to him when he speaks to me. "My baby had a bad dream," he says.
"Oh so bad, Colton." He caresses my back to help me settle down. There is no pain, no trace of the way the red whip slashed my flesh. "I was whipped, Daddy. Bound to a whipping post and whipped while Members watched and taunted me."
"Members? What are members, Dante? Can you tell me?"
"Members of some kind of frat, a gay frat that kept slaves. I was a pledge. I was being punished for acting like a brat."
He chuckles and kisses my neck again. Damn how I love those kisses! "You are a brat, Dante. You've always been a brat. That's why I spank you, but it doesn't do any good. All it does is make your dick want to get hard." He reaches down and juggles my cage and yes, he's been keeping me caged for two years now.
At first it was really hard to take and I begged him to take it off a couple times but he never did—only to clean me—but now I'm used to it and it feels natural. I like it. I'm happy to give him that part of my body. I don't care about cumming any more. He finds so many ways to give me pleasure and his cock is all that matters to me now.
"So you're a slave in this frat?"
"Well actually, not even a pledge yet, but this guy named Brock was telling me about what it would be like to be one of their faggot pledges—that's what he said I'd be."
"Brock, huh? It really does sound like a fraternity dude. Was Brock the guy who was whipping you? What kind of a whip?"
"It was red. It hurt like the dickens. My back, my ass, the back of my legs. I was sobbing and choking on it and they were cheering me on. Told me how much they enjoyed seeing slaves sob."
"Bullies."
"Yeah, I guess. Can . . can we stop talking about this, baby? Please?"
"Sure we can. I just want you to feel better. So many bad dreams, kiddo. I wish they would stop."
"Me too, Colton, me too."
"Go make us some coffee, baby."
"Yes, Sir." I get out of bed and while walking to the kitchen something inside me wants me to get down and crawl. I don't. Colton doesn't want me to. Colton's so good to me; he doesn't want me to hurt my knees.
"Colton, Colton, Colton," I say to myself. "Wonderful Colton." I met him when I was only 22—five years ago. Just out of college getting over a terrible crush on my straight roommate. Bully roommate who made me keep the room clean and do his laundry. He let me suck him off once. Just once. Told me he wasn't queer enough. Didn't enjoy it. Pulled out of my mouth and stroked himself then shot his load on his stomach. "Lick it up, faggot," he said to me and I did, hoping this would be the way we would do things from then on. But no. "Never again," he said. "Don't ever ask again, faggot." I cried when he left the room to go shower. Got dressed quickly and went down for breakfast. Didn't want to let him see my red eyes.
I remember being in a leather bar one night with my shirt off. Some old guy smoking a cigar was playing with my nipples and kneeing me in the groin. I was howling out my pain and he kept blowing that disgusting smoke in my eyes and pulling on my nipples and tears were on my face.
"Maybe you should leave the twink alone," someone said, putting his hand on the guy's arm. "Looks like he had enough." Cigar guy let go right away, blew more smoke in my face and walked away. I choked and doubled over.
The guy with the nice voice rubbed my back while I was bent over then seated me on a bench against a wall. "Don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water."
He came back with a bottle of water and a damp rag. He wiped my face then opened the bottle and put it in my mouth. I drank, imagining I was a baby goat and he was feeding me. I drank too fast and then choked and the water spilled down my chest. "Woah, baby! Take it easy." He stood there right over me and I laid my head on his body a little above the thick belt holding up his jeans. He caressed the back of my head. "Relax, pup, relax now. I'll keep you safe."
That voice was so soothing, so smooth. I hoped he'd keep talking to me so I could lose myself inside his voice.
That's how we got started. Colton and Dante. That's when the best part of my life began. So much good stuff since then. He took me and kept me safe and late at night I'd lie on the couch with my head in his lap and I'd tell him my most embarrassing secrets. I'd tell him about what dark things I craved. Sometimes he'd make them happen. Just a little at a time. Just here and there. He acted things out with me. "Playtime," he called it. He was quite the actor. He made all my secret desires come true.
He was a john smacking around a teen hustler, making me get on my knees and suck him off while he called me names like "whore" and "cocksucker" and "twink bastard." He offered me money to let him smack my ass and he did it until I cried.
All my fantasies got acted out in our bedroom with candles lit. I loved all of it, the name-calling, the smacking around, the crying. And the best part of it all was the way he'd hold me and say, "that's enough, boy. I just want to love you now." And it was so, so wonderful.
He bought stuff for us to play with: collars and chains and manacles and clips and whips, paddles and floggers. He made good money and never cared about how much it all cost. He even bought a type of dog cage and would lock me in it sometimes and I'd always fall asleep inside. A couple times he left me there for the whole night, but not too often because he had trouble sleeping when I wasn't in his bed with him.
"You belong to me, baby," he'd tell me and he really mean it. It made me very happy to be his. As soon as same-sex marriage came legal he tied me to himself in that way as well. We had my last name changed to his. I became Dante Finnegan. Our relationship was deeper than even marriage. As time went on our friends only referred to me as "Colton Finnegan's slave," a cherished, subjugated, and protected slave.
"Safe" was his favorite word and he often promised me that he would keep me safe, especially when he could display me as his slave while others looked me over. Our lifestyle gradually became more bdsm in character even when we weren't having official "playtime."
We both knew that submissiveness was my constant obsession, but since Colton was the Master, Colton was the one to set limits to just how much of a slave I could be in our everyday lives.
He was the major wage-earner and had no need for me to earn anything. He managed to get me a clerical position with an LGBTQ+ organization. I worked from home and that pleased him because it gave me the freedom I needed to serve him as his houseboy. I really got into that. I made it a goal to make sure his home sparkled at all times. Damn, it fed my romantic soul, keeping a nice house for the man I love.
One day when he came home from work he found me scrubbing the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, completely naked. It turned him on so much that he bent me over one of the chairs and fucked the daylights out of me then told me that from that time on I would always be kept naked even when we had company. The only exception is that he insisted I always wear kneepads since I ended up on my knees so often.
We had many kinky friends—well actually, they were mostly his friends, almost all dominants who really enjoyed visiting because I was a good cook and a good cocksucker. I fed them delicious food and they fed me their creamy sometimes salty loads of cum whenever Colton ordered me to service them. I had one pair of jeans and a couple shirts to wear when I had to leave the house for errands.
Needless to say, I did all our errands while he was at work. I made sure he lacked for nothing while he made sure there was always some part of my body that was sore from some kind of kinky loving, or what those who don't understand would see as abuse.
He always reminded me how much he loved me, his "naked faggot slaveboy." How much I loved it when he called me that! How much I loved it when I was used as a submissive whore for friends that came by.
Every once in a while he'd text me during the day to let me know he had offered me to someone for a few hours before he got home from work. Some of the men who used me enjoyed thrashing me. He had several spanking implements hanging in a utility closet and I became well-acquainted with each of them and the various ways they hurt.
I didn't like it when other Doms spanked me because most of the sucked at after-care. I mean, Colton was the world's best at it and if he ever got home and found me welted and weeping, he would tend to me in the loving comforting manner he had perfected so well. This didn't happen as much as I would have liked; as I said, he was the one to set limits—for my own good, he told me.
On our third anniversary he took me out to dinner and then to a bdsm club where he'd arranged a surprise party. That was the night he had me locked into a leather slave collar encrusted with diamonds (!!!) and locked me into a golden chastity cage. "From now on, there is only one functioning cock in our marriage, faggot. Get used to the idea," he told me, and I quivered with masochistic ecstasy as others stood by congratulating him for finally claiming me that way. Him, not me.
That was two years ago and the only orgasms I've ever had since then were from when he fucked me. That was all fine with me. He also grew fond of choking me when he was fucking me then releasing me when I spilled my accumulated semen so I could shout out my delight.
Nonetheless, my own masochistic fantasies were much more intense than what we lived from day to day. That's why I kept slipping into my dreams, I think. After all, didn't Freud say that dreams were "wish fulfillment?" I was the expert at that. Oh, and I forgot to tell you: I always thought of them as kinky dreams, but Colton would often call then "nightmares."
After the fratslave "dream, he told me to write out as much of the dream as possible and to post it for everyone to read. And guess what? He started adding to it as well. Now only that, but the more he wrote the more severe he got with me in real life. My Master husband began learning that he could show his love for me by bullying and degrading me (as long as he'd let me take a snuggle break when things got to be too much.)
"We're always a work in progress, sweetheart," he'd say to me all the time. Then he'd make me cry again. Then turn my tears into joyful ones. I love Colton so fucking much. He's the only one who really knows how to care for me as much more than just his slave. I never could have ever dreamed someone like him up my twisted imagination.
END OF CHAPTER FIVE
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Here's a list of the other stories I've posted to Nifty. The dates are where you can find them. You can find them more easily by going to the "Prolific Authors" page. I'm listed there.
Rob
- The Alex Chronicles 9/25/2022
These four are connected: 2. Sweet Subjugation 1/15/2023 3. Brandon's Bosses 4/3/2023 4. Brandon's Brothers 5/29/2023 5. Total Subjugation: 5/25/2023 These are stand-alone stories: 6. Tommy Loves His Sub 8/17/2023 7. Training Toby 12/31/2023 8. Breaking Me In 3/10/2024 9. The Brothel Slave 3/31/2024 10. Jonah Takes Charge 5/9/2024 11. A Tale of Two Subs 6/30/2024