This story was previously published in the High School section but has been edited for the Authoritarian section, where it works better. With my American reader's help, the text was shortened, some characters disappeared, and aspects of D/s were reinforced. Also, my English has improved. Readers of the original story should notice the new material. Chapters will be published weekly.
This is a work of fiction, set in the 70s, and with sex scenes between men. This and all other chapters of this story are the copyright of the author.
Reader feedback is always welcome. -----------------------------------
MAKING-ME-THEIR-LITTLE-BITCH - 3
I was slowly recovering from the most intense orgasm of my life. It was then, as I lifted my head and looked straight ahead, that I saw Paco, Nico's friend. A few steps away from me, he was watching me with a curious and mischievous smile.
He knew what had happened there, I thought. Perhaps he had seen it, hiding in the bushes. Even if he hadn't seen it, the evidence of the crime was clear. Nico and I were naked, sweaty, disheveled, and still panting a little. And most incriminating, Nico's cum was running down my thighs.
Realizing that, all my pleasure drained from my body, replaced by guilt and regret. Panicking, I bent down and picked up my shorts from the ground. I heard Paco tell Nico he'd come back to see if we were okay.
"Oh, yeah..." Nico replied, in a throaty, self-satisfied voice, "I am doing very well."
He massaged his chest and belly languidly, like a satisfied animal. In no hurry to get dressed, he bent down, picked up a shirt from the ground, cleaned his dick and balls, and threw it back on the ground. It was then that I saw it was my shirt.
As I bent down to pick it up, Paco approached Nico and I heard the slap of hand against hand. Clearly, they had congratulated themselves with a high-five.
Embarrassed, I walked away from them and said I'd better go home. I explained that it had gotten a little late for me. I hadn't warned my mother and she would be worried if I was late.
Nico walked over to where I was and took me aside further away from Paco. He didn't want him to hear what he was going to say to me.
He turned me around to face him and said, with a calm voice, "Don't worry, Leo. Nobody will say anything about what happened here and no one's gonna hurt you. I promised to look after you, remember?"
"Yeah," I replied, feeling kind of childish, but also a bit unsure how far I could trust him.
He hooked my chin with his finger and made me look up at him. How hunky he was. I could easily get lost in those green eyes.
"You can leave whenever you want," he said. "If you want to leave now, I'll tell you the best way to get back. OK?"
I nodded and smiled at him, a weak, obsequious smile, because I didn't want to upset him. I knew that if he and Paco wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't be able to fight them off. I also wouldn't know how to go back alone if they abandoned me there.
Nico was so close to me that I felt like touching his dick to better recall the intense, masculine pleasure it had brought me. He smiled when he saw what I was looking at, grabbed me by the hair, and asked me, "Do you think I forced you to do something you didn't want to do?"
"What?!" I asked, astonished. "I don't follow..."
"You heard it, Leo," he said, letting go of my hair. "Answer me."
I wasn't sure what to say. Waiting for my answer, he started absently massaging his dick, making it grow. The animal was getting hungry again, I thought.
"So? Did you do what you wanted to do? Or do you think I raped you?" He asked, still massaging his gorgeous dick.
"No, I don't!" I replied, looking at his tool. "I wouldn't say that."
"You did just what you wanted to do, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did."
"You who wanted to come here to see the lake, didn't you? "
"Yes, Nico."
"You were crazy to feel this, weren't you?" He said, taking my hand and leading it to his dick with a smirk on his face, which reaffirmed that I was, after all, a faggot salivating over a real man's body, and that was quite normal and familiar to him.
"Yes!" I replied again, willing to agree with everything he said.
Nico grabbed my hair again and said, so close that I could feel his hot breath on my skin, "Listen to me, Leo. I won't tell anyone about what happened here, but if by chance a friend of yours found out and asked, what would you say? That I forced you? Or are you going to say you wanted to be mine?"
"Who could find out?" I asked, concerned.
"It doesn't matter now, just answer my question. What would you say to anyone?"
"I'll say I wanted to."
"Good," he said, pulling away from me. "I'll take you back to your bike."
The two accompanied me back to my bike. On the way, Paco approached me and tried to be more friendly. He started by saying that I should come back and see the secret place on the lake that he, Nico, and their friends frequented. He told me it was a beautiful place, but difficult to access. Few people went there. "It's our private paradise," he told me.
Once he saw me getting more comfortable with him, however, the subject changed. He started talking about my ass. He said I had an ass that women would envy. If I were in prison, there would be fights over me, or over my ass, he added, as if making a joke.
I didn't like the joke, but I didn't say anything. What caught my attention the most was that he used some of the same words that Paulo, my best friend, and Nico had used at different times, to refer to my ass. Smooth, plump, curved, fuckable, among others.
As we walked back, he also took every opportunity that came his way to touch, pinch and squeeze my ass. I also felt his cock nudge me from behind.
At a certain point during the walk, when he and Nico walked away and talked alone for a few moments, I could hear him saying, "Goddam! I have to fuck that ass!"
"Calm down, buddy. The summer is just beginning," Nico replied as if to cheer his friend up.
"Next time, I gonna fuck him hard," Paco said.
There would be no next time, I thought. I decided that I would never see them again.
At the place where we had hidden the bikes, Nico asked me, "Friends?"
"Yes, friends," I responded, while my mind was racing with doubts about him and a desire to get out of there as soon as possible.
"Good," he said, raising a clenched fist and happily pretending to punch my chin. "See you around, kid."
Paco laughed loudly as I began riding, standing on my pedals to gain momentum, bending over with my ass shoved backward. I stopped, turned around, and saw the two, in the distance, high-fiving again. I felt bad about what I'd done and began pedaling faster.
I felt discomfort in my ass and thought about getting off my bike and walking. I didn't, however, because a bit of Nico's cum had dripped onto my shorts. Someone could see the stain on the fabric, and there was also a risk that someone could notice I had a weird way of walking.
My friend Paulo once told me that when a person was cornholed, he walked differently. Not knowing if he was joking or telling the truth, I asked what the difference was. He replied that he couldn't explain it in words, but he could tell when someone had been cornholed. "I can tell the instant I see it," he said.
I feared that it might not be a joke. Maybe I was walking weirdly, like I had been 'cornholed'.
The more I pedaled, the more my ass felt different. It was the feeling that I had been penetrated, very well penetrated. Nico hadn't just taken my cherry, he had given me a fucking. He should have taken my ass a little easier. He knew it was my first time. And those names he used? Bitch. Faggot. Pussy. What? I didn't have a pussy. Why was he so rude?
At home, I went straight to the shower and cautiously touched my ass. I feared that Nico's huge cock had caused some permanent physical damage. What if my hole never closed completely again? Some boys said that girls who got fucked often ended up becoming loose. Did that just happen to my ass too?
I touched it repeatedly and breathed a sigh of relief when I felt everything was as it was before. Closed. No permanent damage. Leaving aside some sore spots, everything was as it had been.
When I looked in the mirror, I noticed two hickeys on my neck. Looking closer, they wouldn't be difficult to hide, so if my mom asked questions, I could come up with an excuse. A prank fight with a friend. A violent move in football. Anything like that.
I washed my clothes again to erase the evidence of the crime and went into the kitchen. I made a huge, healthy sandwich, grabbed a Coke, and ate and drank it as if it were my last meal. I was famished and exhausted.
I fell asleep on the sofa in the living room, with the TV on, and woke up to the phone ringing. It was the usual phone call from my mother, to check if everything was okay and to say that she would be arriving home a little later.
My day had been exhausting, I said to her, with a lot of physical activity. If she didn't mind, I would go to bed early.
She was happy that I had exercised, recommended eating well, and wished me a good sleep.
I slept gorgeously for ten or eleven hours and woke up in a good mood, alone, and with the usual morning erection.
The phone rang before I got out of bed. I hesitated to answer it, fearing it was Nico. Then, I remembered that from what I had observed in the previous two days, he would go to the lake in the afternoon, not in the morning.
I picked up and calmed down when I heard Paulo's voice. My longtime friend used to call me even on vacation when we were in different places. We were friends since childhood and told each other everything, even our most intimate feelings. Now that we were entering adolescence, however, I noticed an imbalance in our relationship.
Much more sexually uninhibited than me, Paulo kept telling me about his experiences with girls. Everything. Even the dirtiest details. The more he spoke, however, the more I became silent. I couldn't reveal my desires for other boys. He couldn't know how much I wanted to be in the girls' shoes in his stories. This imbalance made me concerned, almost as if I were cheating on my best friend.
As I said before, Paulo, despite his sexual exhibition and his desirable body, hadn't yet reached his goal with any girl. He was still a virgin, and it drove him crazy. He used to tell me that women teased him, but at the final instant, they stepped back leaving him with aching balls.
After each narrative of his frustrated sexual adventures, he took and squeezed his balls and said he was so horny that he would be able to fuck anything. "Too bad you aren't a girl. If you were, I would rip off these shorts and fuck your fat ass right now," was one of his classic statements to end many of his stories.
Sometimes, while playing and laughing, he would rub his hand or his cock on my ass. I would punch him and call him crazy, and we would both laugh.
The weirdest thing between us happened during a bus trip when our school went to participate in a student olympiad in another state.
We sat beside each other on the bus, and during the evening return trip, I fell asleep on my side, with my face against the window and my back to him.
I'd been sleeping for a while when I felt something touching my ass. Despite my sleepiness, it didn't take long for me to realize that it was Paulo's hand. In the dim light of the bus, he had slid his hand inside my sweatpants and was stroking my buttocks.
At first, I thought about not reacting. It was amazing to feel the touch of his palm against the skin of my ass. I wanted to feel a little more and see how far he would go.
I was forced to change my mind, however, when he grew bolder. He pushed my body forward, to elevate my ass more and make his hand movements easier. I reacted as soon as his fingers entered my ass crack. "Hey... What's going on?" I questioned in a low, sleepy voice, afraid of attracting the attention of the other athletes.
He didn't answer. I turned my face towards him to see that he wisely pretended to be asleep. How convenient. I punched his thigh.
"Hunh?? What?! Let me sleep," he growled, opening his eyes but keeping his hand there.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what? What are you talking about? Let's go to sleep," he said, using his other hand to push my face against the bus window.
"Stop it!" I repeated. "Your wandering hands just woke me up. What are you waiting for? Get it out of there."
"Geez!" He said, feigning surprise, but still not pulling his hand away. "I was dreaming."
"Oh yeah?! Dreaming of what? My ass?"
"Noooo ... Dreaming of Amelia. The hot babe who sits in the front row of class. In my dream, I was stroking her ass."
As he said that, he moved his hand and caressed my ass in a way so naughty and enticing that I almost wanted to let him continue. I couldn't, however, do that. Paulo might have been putting me to the test to see whether I was a faggot, so I had to reply quickly and firmly.
"Well, since I'm not Amelia, I guess it's about time you took your hand off my ass," I continued, trying hard to look angry.
"Are you sure about that?" he asked me with a sly smile while risking one more caress of my buttocks. I responded with a punch to his chest, and he finally pulled away.
After I fixed my sweatpants and we sat back up on the bench, both looking forward, he said in a playful tone, "You know what? It's your fault. If you hadn't slept with that nice ass facing me, this wouldn't have happened."
"Oh yeah? Then how would I sit down? " I asked.
"Like this," he replied, pulling my head to his chest and holding it there.
I could see the thick volume that had grown out of his lap. The son of a bitch had a hard-on and wanted me to see it.
"You're a pervert!" I said, giving a light slap to his cock and running away from his embrace.
I put my hands on my lap, so he wouldn't see that I was hard too, and we both went back to sleep.
Paulo's voice on the phone made me happy and, at the same time, caused me a certain sadness. It was good to hear his friendly voice, but it was sad to realize that, although I desperately needed to talk to someone about what had happened in the woods, I couldn't tell him anything.
"Hi mate. I'm already missing having fun together," I started.
"Oh, yes? Are you missing me or my dick rubbing up on your hot butt?" He replied, making a kissy sound into the phone.
"Fuck you, Paulo!"
"Yeah, I will fuck you, baby," he said, again mimicking the kissing sounds, one of the hallmarks of our conversations. "Soon," he added, "unless I get some from the local sluts."
I hoped that, after his joke, we could talk, as always, about his favorite subjects, sports, and girls. But this time there was something different in the air. Despite mentioning the local sluts, he didn't seem so eager to recount his most recent erotic misadventures. Surprisingly, he was more interested in listening.
He wanted to confirm that I wasn't going to go on vacation, and that my father hadn't changed his mind and wouldn't pick me up to spend a few days with him. He asked me about my mother, who, by the way, liked him very much. He asked if she wasn't worried about me, if she left me alone all day, and how many times she called me during the day just to check up on me. Was I still mama's little baby? And, finally, he wanted to know about my vacation without him. What was I doing to spend the time?
He seemed so interested that I felt compelled to say something. I told him I was going to tell him something that my mother couldn't know.
"The things that parents can't know are the most interesting," he said.
I told him that I had ventured for the first time into the woods around the lake.
"Wow! Is mommy's little boy rebelling? This is good news," he said.
"Do you think so?"
"Yeah. It's about time you grew up. You need to get out more. You need to show your pretty little ass."
"Paulo! Don't piss me off!"
"I'm kidding," he said, laughing, and added, "Kidding or not, you know you have a nice ass."
"Damn. You seem obsessed"
"Tell me more about the forest. Did you go alone or with people?"
I was going to answer that I had been alone, but then I thought that someone we knew could have seen me with Nico, and that sooner or later he would know.
"With people," I replied.
"Oh yeah? With whom?"
"I ran into a guy from school, and we went together. He's older than me."
"What 's his name?"
"I think you don't like him."
"Tell me his name!"
"Nico."
"Shit!"
"He was your teammate, wasn't he?"
"Yeah. He was on the school swim team and was thrown off. A troublemaker. I already told you about that."
"I remember. Was your father already the team coach when he was tossed off?"
"Yeah. You know my father. He is calm and understanding, but he doesn't tolerate indiscipline."
"I know that. Hey, do you think Nico is bad company? Should I not hang out with him anymore?"
"I don't know him very well. Anyway, I always smell a rat with people I don't know. Nico isn't like us."
"In what sense?" I asked, in a naive voice.
"He and his friends are too experienced with certain things."
"What things?"
"I don't know how to say it. Things in life? I think they have lived and done more things than we have. They can easily fool a little mommy's boy like you."
I thought about asking more questions, but I knew he didn't like Nico. I was afraid that if I showed too much curiosity. I would anger him.
"Didn't you notice that when you talked to Nico?" Paulo continued.
"No. Hey. What about the girls? Did you meet any hot babes out there?" I asked, changing the subject abruptly, to avoid making any undue disclosure.
We talked for almost an hour. When we hung up, I was flattered by my friend's interest in my vacation.
The phone rang again insistently in the early afternoon. I didn't answer. I knew it wasn't my mom because she only called me in the early evening. It must have been Nico.
The more I tried to push him out of my mind, the more I thought about him. I couldn't stop replaying what had happened. At times I felt a small trace of pride. It was undeniable, I thought, that he had been attracted to me. I had been sought out, tagged, and fucked by a tall, blond, and handsome swimmer, two or three years older than me. He had been attracted to my body, or should I say to my ass? It didn't matter. The important thing was he came twice with me, by rubbing up against my back and inside me.
Most of the time, though, I felt regrets. How did I let that happen? How could I give myself up to Nico the day after I met him? I had always been so careful so that no one would know what I liked, and suddenly, I let a stranger do what he wanted with me. Was I a little bitch? And Paco? Had Nico and Paco arranged everything from the beginning? How did Nico know so much about me?
There were so many unanswered questions that I was sometimes angry at myself, at Nico, at Paco, at everyone. At other times, however, I was so excited by the memories of what had happened that I needed to whack off.
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