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.
This is a work of fiction set in the 1970s, before AIDS, COVID, and the cell phone, involving sex scenes between guys. The author owns the copyright to this and all other chapters of the story.
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MAKING-ME-THEIR-LITTLE-BITCH - 6
When Paco left, I walked naked around the house feeling good inside my body. Thirsty and hungry, I went to the kitchen, where I drank what seemed to be a gallon of water but couldn't find anything good to eat. Returning to the living room, I felt like dancing to Marvin Gaye.
As I started wiggling my ass slowly and teasingly, I had a vague memory that I had done this before. But where? For whom?
However, I soon remembered Paco's comments about my ass and his desperate desire to fuck me, as well as the wonderful sensations when his cock entered me. My dick stiffened at the same time.
I was about to jerk off when I heard my mother's car engine entering the garage. I ran to my room and locked myself in the bathroom.
Minutes later she knocked on the door to say that she was home and that she was going to prepare a lasagna for us. I responded with a whoopee. My mother's lasagna was matchless.
I watched myself in the mirror. I still had a boyish face, with full lips, curly hair hanging over my forehead, big, almost innocent eyes, but I was changing. My hair was no longer as blond as it was in my childhood. It was more caramel, burnt by the sun. The main change, however, couldn't be seen. The childlike face didn't reflect the convulsion that had happened inside me in the past few days. It didn't announce what I had done.
My mom yelled at me not to take too long in the bathroom. Later, when I met her in the kitchen, she asked me if I was okay. I asked the reason for the question, and she told me I was a little weird, slower than I used to be. I replied that it must be the heat.
After dinner, I slept for twelve hours and felt fantastic when I awoke. The phone rang a few times in the morning, but I didn't answer it because I was worried it was Nico. I was still resolute about not seeing him again.
In the afternoon, after spending the morning reading, I put my cleats in my backpack and pedaled straight to the schoolyard. I hoped to see Alex and his group of friends playing football again.
Luck was on my side. Alex waved at me as soon as he saw me, and minutes later, while I was sitting on the grass putting on and adjusting my cleats, he sat across from me and started talking. He seemed happy to see me and announced that we would play for different teams today.
He had sat down with his legs spread and his knees raised, giving me a good view of his powerful thighs. As he spoke, he lowered his hand to his groin and smoothed his balls in his shorts. I tried to ignore it, but my eyes kept coming back to it.
When I entered the field, Alex gave my ass a vigorous slap and said something that I thought could have a double meaning, "Show the best of yourself, kid."
As I said, I wasn't a good player, but throughout the game, Alex treated me like I was a real threat to his team. He targeted me, surrounding me, and trying to stop me from playing. Since I was faster, I sometimes managed to get free, making passes to the attackers on my team. Most of the time, however, Alex stayed behind me, disrupting my play.
As we kept moving, the inevitable happened. My ass contacted his member, which was turgid, springing to life.
One of the ways players used to create distance between them and their assigned opponent was to throw the body backward, against the opponent's body, to push him and move away, but this technique was useless with Alex. He was bigger and didn't move when I threw myself against him. Sometimes he even moved forward and glued his body to mine, forcing me to feel the musculature of his chest and thighs and the pendulous weight between his legs.
Was that horndog playing hard?! What if the other players realized that he was rubbing his package against my ass?
Surreptitiously, I looked at his bulge. There was volume, to be sure, but it wasn't as scandalous as I had imagined. Was he using a cup? Many players used it to protect their balls.
In another scrimmage, when he rubbed his hard cock in my ass for a long time, I yelled, pointing to his bulge, "Hey, buddy, you need to find a way to solve that problem there."
I spoke in a joking tone, to hide my discomfort and to remove any doubts about my interest if someone was watching us.
"Yeah, I know that, blondie. Do you want to help me?" he replied, laughing, and squeezed and lifted his balls.
"Get out," I said, walking away and listening to the laughter of the players who were closest to us. They laughed at both of us, I reasoned, with the hope that from then on he would move away from me.
The second half of the game was a mix of joy and martyrdom. I had to try harder and harder not to give in to Alex's advances, but, on the other hand, I was delighted when he cornered me with his body. The contrast between our skins, the strength and power that his body emanated, the aroma of his sweat, the feeling that he could dominate me and make me do whatever he wanted, even the dirtiest things... All these things turned me on.
Alex seemed to find excuses to rub himself against me even when the ball wasn't near us. At one point he pinched my ass. It was so unabashed that I was forced to defend my honor by complaining to the referees.
"Hey, someone is trying to have his way with me," I shouted, simulating indignation.
The players around us started laughing again and the ball kept rolling. In two contests for the ball, he hugged me around the waist and pulled me, so that I could feel his cock even more. On one of these occasions, the referee called a foul. Pushing or holding someone on the opposing team was considered a serious offense.
Alex shouted that I should complain less, and that football was a game for men and not for pansies. At another moment, he pulled the elastic from my shorts and, after seeing my buttocks, said "Wow, blondie! What a beautiful tan line!
Before I said anything, a player on my team warned me, "He's trying to make you nervous."
He made me nervous because I feared what other players might think of me. For them, Alex's role as a top alpha male was totally normal. But what about me? What were they thinking of me?
It wasn't just nervousness that Alex was causing me. He was making me horny. I attempted to avoid his approaches, but I couldn't, despite the risks I was taking.
At the end of the game, he came to apologize for any excesses. He hugged me, and again slapped and squeezed my buttocks a little longer than was permissible for a male celebration. We pulled away and he asked me, "Do you know Paco?"
What?! A shudder ran down my spine. I couldn't decide whether to say yes or no.
"Why are you asking me that?" I replied.
"He's a friend of mine, and I thought maybe you knew each other."
"I know him, but we aren't friends," I said.
"He is a football ace. If you were friends, he could teach you how to play better."
"Are you implying that I don't know how to play?" I asked.
"No!" he said, defensively.
"I'm just kidding, Alex. I know I don't play well, but it doesn't bother me. I come here to sweat and have some fun."
"I hope you had fun," he continued, winking at me.
I pretended to ignore the double meaning of what he had said and continued, "By the way, you're correct about Paco. He does play well."
"He is a sick player," he corrected me, and added, "He and his friend, Nico, were at my house yesterday."
I got a queasy feeling about it. Why was he telling me?
"They came over to ask me to help Paco get a vacation job," Alex said. "I'll see if I can get him something at the cafeteria."
"I hope it works," I replied.
"He was different, yesterday" Alex said, abruptly changing the subject.
"Different? How?" I asked.
"He seemed more relaxed and happier."
As he said that, he looked at me curiously, as if he wanted to read the expression on my face, and added, in a lower, conspiratorial tone, "I suspect he's been fucking some pussy."
He paused again and smiled at me before adding, "Or some ass."
"Good for him," I said, trying to look uninterested.
"I'm a man, blondie," Alex insisted. "I know when a man is fucking. Everything about him changes. Even his way of walking."
I laughed, showing disbelief.
"I'm telling the truth, blondie. A man can see the changes," Alex said. "And you know what? Whoever is being fucked, woman or man, is also different."
"This is silly. I've never heard of it before," I replied, ending the conversation, and carefully walked away from him. I remembered my friend Paulo had said something like me a while back, and I wondered if it was true.
Bad thoughts and doubts arose in my head. Why had Alex felt so confident in being so daring during the game? And why had he said such things to me about Paco? Did he have any suspicions? Had Paco told him? Was it possible that Alex noticed something about me? Was I walking differently after Paco had fucked me with his thick cock?
Later, when I was watching TV at home, the phone rang. Absent-mindedly, I answered.
Fuck! It was Nico. He was the last person in the world I wanted to talk to, but as soon as I heard his husky and deep voice, I couldn't help but notice my cock revolting against the fabric of my shorts. That guy had the power to make me hard with a simple hello.
He was annoyed with me since I hadn't answered his calls. He spoke as if I had no right to avoid him, as arrogant and determined as ever. There was also a threat in his voice.
What could he do to me? I wondered. He could reveal to other people who I really was, I answered myself. That scared me, so I promised him I wouldn't avoid him again.
"Did you miss my big dick?" he questioned, his voice lowering after he made me repeat my promise twice more.
"Yes, Nico," I replied, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.
"It misses your tight ass too," he snapped. "Come tomorrow."
""Nico, I don't know if I can go tomorrow," I replied.
"Be there," he said, hanging up the phone.
I looked down. Under my shorts, my hard cock looked like a tent.
The next day I cycled to the forest. As soon as I saw Nico, my heart sped up. Wearing only snug royal blue shorts and sneakers, he greeted me reservedly, almost coldly.
That confused me. I had spent the morning preparing for the meeting and expected a little more warmth at my arrival.
He told me to get off the bike with a nod. As soon as I got down, he tugged on my shirt, implying that I should take it off. I obeyed. He pointed to the bike where I should sit.
We pedaled in silence for a few minutes, long minutes for me. The silence tortured me and I felt nervous because of it. What did I expect of Nico? That he would show me some tenderness? Respect? How desperate could I be?
I was still scolding myself when he whispered, bringing his mouth to my ear, "I want you to answer me whenever I call you."
Did he want to go back to that subject again? His expectations seemed excessive to me. I barely knew him. He had almost forced me to meet him that afternoon and now he demanded that I be always available to him. What did he think I was? His little bitch?
"Nico, I don't think you have the right..."
He bit my ear, making me groan in pain, and added, menacingly, "I'm not asking, Leo. Do you get it?"
"Yes, Nico. I got it," I answered.
"Good," he said.
I agreed with him because I didn't want to provoke him. Being alone with Nico in that forest was enough to make me feel vulnerable. I feared that if he became angry, my situation would get worse.
He pedaled in silence for a few minutes before sticking his nose in my hair, sniffing, and saying softly, "I missed your nice smell."
Wow. Though simple and restrained, that gesture changed everything. My apprehension started to fade, the sun shone brighter, and my dick awoke. It was something like this that I had been waiting for since I first saw him at the forest's entrance.
I felt at ease surrounded by his arms, chest, legs, warmth, and scent. I even wanted to lift my body and lean my back against his broad chest. I restrained myself because of the people we passed by and because I didn't want Nico to see the control he had over my feelings. He could catapult me from sadness to joy with a snap. It was good and insane at the same time.
"Did you bring the red speedo?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Where is it?"
"I'm wearing it. Under my shorts."
"Good," he said with a possessive air, making me feel rewarded for having obeyed him.
I remembered him telling me to put on my red speedo when he called in the morning. He hadn't asked me to take it; he had simply instructed me to.
When we left the main trail and entered a secondary trail, as on previous tours with him, we found fewer people. He leaned forward and his skin touched mine. I could smell his sweat and the warmth of his breath on my face. I took advantage to lift my torso and nestle better between his arms. In that position, I could better feel his massive chest and his hard nipples on my back.
I pushed my ass back, until his bulge touched my lower back. And then I felt it. He wasn't wearing underwear and was getting a hard-on. With each bump of the bike, I could feel his torpedo growing.
When we approached someone, as part of a mutual conspiracy, we disguised it. He would start talking loudly and pointing out trees in the surrounding forest, or something like that. At the same time, he pressed his cock harder against my back, increasing the risk of someone noticing.
Further on, he started asking me questions, always speaking with his mouth close to my ear. He asked me again if I missed his cock, if I had jerked off thinking about it, if I wanted to feel his big cock inside me again, if I would like to be fucked by him every day.
What a dirty questionnaire! I answered yes to every question, until the moment he asked me if I was willing to let him do whatever he wanted with me. With doubts about that, I fell silent.
He bit my earlobe and said, "I asked you a question, Leo. Answer me."
To avoid upsetting him and to see how far he would go, I said 'yes' once again.
He hurried on until the entrance to the third track, which was narrower and steeper. He hid my bicycle in the middle of some bushes and went on foot, motioning for me to go with him.
In the following minutes, he barely looked back to see if I was following him. When we arrived at the area of the forest where I had been cornholed, I felt something hot and uneasy in my chest. Nico stopped, turned back, and slowly walked back to me, dripping with sweat. As he approached, he put his hand in my hair, pulled my head to his chest, and, with his mouth pressed against my ear, he said, "I had to control myself from tearing off your clothes and fucking you as soon as I saw you arrive, faggot."
Fuck! I didn't like being called a faggot, but I melted inside feeling wanted by my sexy schoolmate.
His hand went down my back, to my ass, and squeezed my buttocks. "Grab my cock," he said.
I grabbed it and squeezed it over the fabric of his shorts.
"Don't be shy, dumbass. Stick your hand in there," he ordered. "Grab it! You two are already well acquainted."
I felt vertigo the instant my palm reached inside and touched his cock. How I missed it! It was large, warm, and hard as wood. My legs weakened and I realized that from then on I would have difficulty thinking straight. I squeezed it, and without realizing it, I let out a groan.
Nico stared at me with a smirk, stroked my buttocks again, and said, "Yeah, I know you really missed it, bitch. You were hooked by it."
His cock jerked in my hand. He let go of me, took a few steps back, and pushed his shorts down, letting them fall to his heels. He kicked them away, being completely naked and exposing his athletic body.
His cock slightly curved up. Nico held it, squeezed, and moved the skin up and down, making the glans appear and disappear. The head was pink, not too big, just the perfect proportion for the shaft.
"That's what you came back for, wasn't it?"
The question was humiliating.
"Tell me the truth, Leo. That's what you came back for, wasn't it?' He insisted.
I answered affirmatively, admitting my desire.
He turned his back on me, walked over to some bushes, and entered a small and hidden clearing. Rays of sunlight filtering through the treetops gave the place a mysterious air and there was a beach towel lying on a rock. He had prepared for us, I thought.
He sat on the rock, opened his legs, looked at me, and at his dick. I got it and knelt. I took the monster in my hand, and started pumping it, feeling its warmth, weight, and power.
"I don't want your hand," he said.
I looked up, questioning him. He looked back with a lascivious smile. I wanted to ask him if he knew that Paco had come to my house, but I thought it best not to.
I moved forward, but as soon as I touched the head with the tip of my tongue, Nico pushed my head back. What was it now?!
He held me by the hair in a tight grip. I thought he was going to hit me for not telling him anything about Paco, but he just asked, "This is what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes, Nico. I want this."
He hit my cheek with that fucking tool and stared at me questioningly.
"Yes, Nico. I want to suck your cock," I added. "Give it to me, please."
In the next instant, his cock head was in my mouth. I tried to remember everything Paco had taught me about hiding my teeth, keeping his dick wet, controlling my breathing, and so on.
Nico didn't stop me from continuing as he had the first time. When he started to let out the first moans of satisfaction, I thought I was doing okay. I was serving him as he wanted and deserved.
"This is freaking good, bitch!" He said. "You've improved since the last time."
I mentally thanked Paco and went on.
When I started to piston it in and out of my mouth, he praised me even more enthusiastically. "Yeah, cocksucker! You're not the best cocksucker I've ever met, but you're getting there. You're doing good!"
That made me proud. Wait! Wait! Was I feeling proud of being a good cocksucker?!
He held my head with both hands and fucked my face. Slowly at first, still unsure how far he could go.
"Goddammit, bitch!" He screamed when I went further, and his cock touched the back of my throat, "I'm gonna fuck you every day."
Therefore, I didn't understand when he stopped suddenly and took his dick out of my mouth. I looked up, puzzled. He pulled it up to his belly, and said, "Balls."
Just that, "Balls." Just that short, cutting order. Like a slap in the face. To show who was in charge.
I sucked and licked them, tasting the salty sweat, feeling the aroma nurtured there during the time we had cycled and walked. Paying closer attention, however, I noticed that the smell was stronger. It wasn't the smell of just a day. I looked up. He smiled and said, "Do you like the smell? Do you think it's different? Yeah, bitch, I've been saving it for three days. Smell it! Get drunk on my smell. That's your man!"
He had prepared it for me. Why? To test me? To humiliate me? To see how far I would go for him? I continued to inhale it.
"Put one ball in your mouth, bitch," he said. "Use your tongue and move it around."
I obeyed and was still struggling to massage one ball with my tongue, careful not to hurt it, when he said, "I want both inside your mouth."
I looked up, apprehensive. He replied with a quick nod, showing that I should move on.
After a few unsuccessful attempts and afraid to hurt him, I looked up to show him that I couldn't do it. But he insisted, this time in a soft voice, "C'mon, Leo. You want to satisfy me, don't you? So go for it. Open your mouth wider. Do what you're told."
He moved his fingers, shoving them into my mouth, trying to make it open and saying, "Yeah, wider."
As soon as he opened it to its limit, I felt his balls slipping inside it, not all the way, but mostly. "Fuck yeah! You're doing it!" He said.
His voice overwhelmed me. "Yeah, bitch, feel my sperm factory. You were born for this, weren't you?"
After a while, Nico took his balls out of my mouth. He was holding his throbbing cock, stroking it up and down, his sticky pre-cum coating his head, when he started to say, "You're doing a good job, cocksucker. You're pumping a lot of my juice out of my balls. Go ahead. Lick it. Savor it."
As if my only goal and purpose in life were to satisfy this seventeen-year-old classmate, I moved forward. I started stroking his cockhead with my tongue, collecting thick, crystalline drops of pre-cum, the taste of which I had already learned to appreciate.
"Yeah! Just like that," he exclaimed.
I took his cock and squeezed it, to extract more of his juice. Nico grabbed me by the hair again and asked me, "You want to drink it, right?"
"Yes, Nico. I want to."
He rubbed his cock over my lips and asked another question, "Am I forcing you?"
"Nooo, Nico! I want to. Please, let me go on."
"Do you like the taste?" he asked.
"Yes, Nico."
"What's it like?"
"I can't say."
"Try to."
"It's salty, but also sweet. And I love its creaminess. For me, it's...it's... just something I can't get enough of."
He laughed, let go of my head, and said, "Go ahead, you fucking faggot. Make me happy."
My lust at that moment was greater than my pride. I lowered my mouth, swallowed his tool, and coated it with my spit. Soon I started taking it into my mouth and throat, then out, with only my lips around the head. I kept doing that for a time, in, all the way out, and in again.
His moans grew louder, as did his voice, "Yeah, use your hand to massage my sack. That'll make sure you keep getting all you want."
He held my head and fucked me. His pubes touched my nose and I thought he was going to explode at any moment.
At one point he stopped and told me to take off my shorts. He wanted to see me wearing my speedo.
"Lift your ass higher. Move it for me," he said, as soon as I knelt again between his legs, wearing only my tight swimming trunks.
He became more petulant each time I obeyed his orders, and his movements more violent and erratic. He stood up, held my head in his hands, and started to fuck with all his strength, burying his cock, deeper and deeper, and making me choke. In a panic, I tried to pull away. I pushed on his thighs, but he squeezed my head tighter.
"Nope. You're not going anywhere, cocksucker. You've surely been training, and you're better, but you still have a long way to go. You must learn to accept whatever your man has to offer. Go ahead and do it. Prove to me that you're working hard to improve as a cocksucker."
I was suffocating! He noticed and, even without reducing his force, tried to calm me down. "You can do it, Leo. Hey, you want to make me feel good, don't you?"
I remembered Paco again. When I started freaking out with his cock in my throat, he told me that in those moments I should only think about two things, my breathing and making my man happy. And that's what I did. I relaxed my throat and started to breathe between the thrusts of his huge cock. Nico realized what I was doing, letting him use me for his pleasure, without resistance, and said, "Yeah, cocksucker."
He fucked my mouth like he was raping me, while his moans and exclamations of excitement increased.
Hearing those moans, a rising flame of personal pride removed any feeling of resistance I might have still had.
"Yeah, choke on my fucking rod, faggot," he said, burying his dick in my throat.
I knew my throat would be sore afterwards, but that didn't matter. Most important to me were Nico's moans of satisfaction.
"You love to surrender to your man, don't you, faggot?"
He had never said things like that to me. He was pushing my limits.
"Fucking hell, Leo. It looks like you're really into this," he said. "You should see your face right now, with a fat cock sliding in and out of it, just like a whore's pussy."
He stopped his movements while saying that. His cock pulsed so hard inside my mouth that I thought he was going to come, but he was trying to postpone his ejaculation.
I could barely think. I looked up, with the best face of a bitch in heat that I had, because I knew that was what he wanted.
He went back to fucking my mouth with violence, and it didn't take long for me to feel a tremendous orgasm growing inside him. He tried again to control it, but it was too late. He went into overdrive, ramming his cock into me with passion.
It didn't last more than a few seconds. He dug his fingers into my skull, pushed his entire tool into me, stood still for a few seconds, and made a loud sound. Growling. "Oh yeah, there's no stopping me this time faggot! You're mine!"
The stallion was coming. His dick pulsed out of control and started pouring jets of cum into my throat.
I extracted every drop of cum he had and waited for his cock to soften inside my mouth. Nico took it out and lifted up my face. Upon seeing a remnant of his cum on my chin, he shook his face from side to side in mock disgust. I wasn't sure if it was because of how I looked a mess, or worse, because he had so easily conquered my mouth. He scooped up the cum with his finger, brought it to my lips, and smirked, "Don't waste a drop of your man's juice, cocksucker."
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