An email to Jeffrey: "Late Sunday night. A guy I gave a bj to one time saw me in the bathroom when I was brushing my teeth after you dropped me off. He said he was horny and wanted me to follow him to his room so I could service him. I was exhausted and was going to beg off, but I remembered what you said to me, Master: obey everyone. So I obeyed. I went to his room and sucked him off. After I swallowed his load I was too exhausted to get up and go back to my room. I just slept on the floor next to his bed until morning."
. . . . .
Steven was really nice to Q when he woke him up the next morning. He apologized for not getting him back to his room last night. "It's 8 am now. What time is your first class?"
"Not until 10."
"What the passcode to your phone? I'll set your alarm for nine. You should be able to grab a shower without anyone seeing you. Most guys will be off to clases by then."
"There's no password. Some guy told me I shouldn't lock it, that it was a way of my being naked. Any Dom could pick up my phone and find out my secrets." Steven digs Q's phone from his shorts and sets the alarm. He goes to take his own shower. He can't help but be concerned about what Q is getting himself into, especially how marked up he got over the weekend.
Q falls back asleep. When Steven gets back from his shower, he gets dressed quietly and leaves. He writes a note and puts it with Q's clothes. "Tell whoever beat you up that you were a good cocksucker for me last night. You can show him this note as proof. And damn it, be more careful about who you get involved with. S."
QQ's phone rings just as his alarm is going off. It's Craig. "WTF, man? Where the fuck are you? You okay?"
"I'm fine. I was with someone last night talking and we both fell asleep. I just woke up."
"Were you only talking or were you being a slut, dude?"
"Don't worry about it. I'm heading back to our room. Going to take a shower. I have a 10 am class. See you later." And he shuts down the conversation without giving any more information. Something to deal with later.
Before he gets dressed, someone knocks on his door. Still naked, he opens the door. The more guys who see him naked the better, he figures. There's an older guy at the door. He checks Q out and walks right into the room without being given an invitation. "You can call me Brett. I'm a friend of Jeffrey's. He asked me to check on you, make sure no first aid is needed. So raise you hands in the air and stand still."
"Yes, Sir," Q says and obeys, hoping that's all Brett's going to do.
"You look okay. No cuts. But you stink, faggot. Get a towel. Go shower. I'll come keep an eye out for you."
Wow. Q is moved by Brett's offer. He gets a towel and is about to leave. "Wait a second," Brett says. "Where's the key to your cage? I'm taking it off you."
THANK GOD!!!! Without a word, Q digs in his drawer and hands Brett the key. Carefully he removes the cage and even toys a bit with Q's dick. "Wash it thoroughly, boy. It stinks more than the rest of you." Q is so happy about this he almost starts crying again but Brett slaps his face gently. "No tears. No drama. Go, boy. Shower. And hurry up. I've got a 10am class myself."
Fortunately no one's in the showers when he gets there. He can't make the water too hot because it hurts too much. Gingerly, he washes himself, paying the most attention to the parts of him that generally stink the most. Damn, it feels so fantastic to be able to soothe his poor dick after being locked up for so long.
Brett is leaning up against a sink when Q comes from the showers. "Hold up, boy," he orders. "Arms up." Brett checks him out by actually sniffing him all over. New humiliation. "Not bad. Make sure you shower again this afternoon. I'm in Drake Hall #117. Be there at 7 pm. Drake 117. Got it?"
"Yes, Sir. and thank you for looking out for me."
"You'll make it up to me later, faggot. Let's get back to your room. I'm taking the cage and the key with me. Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. The fucking cage is going back on tonight, so if you want to rub one out, take care of it before you come to serve me later. The cage goes back on as soon as you get to me. I want it locked up. Whenever you serve an Alpha's cock, yours should be rendered useless. "
Once he gets to class Q is happy to find out it doesn't hurt too much to be sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in his freshman seminar class. Larry (Professor Lawrence McLoughlin) always begins with some kind of provocative question. Today's question: "Tell us, in one sentence, what you discovered about yourself since our last meeting on Thursday." Uh-oh. The first thing that comes to his mind is simply "I found out what I am." No, that wouldn't do at all. Hmmmmm. He listens to some of the other guys as they speak to see if he'll get an idea.
"I found out I'm not too grown up to get really homesick," one of them said, and a couple of guys admitted the same thing. Larry told them they still had to come up with their own statements. Another guy revealed that he "found out that beer makes me puke." Q wonders if he could share that he discovered that piss doesn't make him puke!
"Must have been a great party," one of the guys said.
"It was until I barfed all over the beer pong table!" he replied, and they all had a good laugh over that.
This began a general conversation about parties on campus this weekend. Finally Q knew what he would say. "I found out that this campus is a hell of a lot nicer than the one at Easterbrook," Q said, but Larry wouldn't accept it.
"The topic is something you discovered about yourself, Q," he says. "Okay. I found out . . . " his blood began racing . . . "that . . . . . sometimes other people know more about me than I know myself."
"Please elaborate."
"Um . . .that they knew secrets about me that I didn't know myself?" Q tries this one. Larry asks for a bit more specific details. "that I would enjoy doing things I've always been afraid of doing."
"Like what, Q?" asks Robby, sitting next to him. "Like drinking something I always thought I'd hate, like getting a limit expanded." This started Larry off on the topic of limits and boundaries and how important it is to know what our own are as well as to respect those of others.
"But someone could help expand a limit, like Q said, right? Pepi jumps in. "Under what circumstances?" asks another. Everyone looks at Q. All of a sudden he knows what he can say. "Like for example you meet someone who really inspires you to . . um . . . try something you never would have tried before because that person is so powerful or persuasive."
"Sounds like you met an Alpha female," quips Roger.
Q blushes bright red. "something like that." Larry can tell that Q is getting a bit anxious so he deftly moves the conversation off into another direction.
"You've got to be self-aware," Larry says. "sometimes people can be toxic influences; they can get us involved in things we'd be much better off not exploring or experiencing. That's why it's so important to be able to set boundaries with other people. Let's take a look at ways to do that. Tell us how you've managed to set a boundary with someone in the past."
Q giggles. Right away he wonders if he could mention using a safe word. Pete starts talking right away because that pushed a button and he starts telling his story about how his cousin was getting him to try cocaine but he managed to get away from it.
Q loses track of the conversation at this point. He finds himself wondering if he's been dealing with people who are too toxic, who are actually bad influences. Fuck! Jeffrey turned him into a urinal, locked him in an iron cage, let ten guys to fuck his mouth in a little over an hour. Bad influences? He decides to ask. "How can you tell if whoever's influencing you is toxic, um . . . pushing you in a bad direction or towards something you'd be better off not getting involved in."
One of the students says "how you feel about it later on, maybe?" Other suggestions are made. "Are you true to your inner values?"
"Could you tell your parents about it?" Shit! Q can't even tell his roommate about it!
"Can you be honest with yourself about why you did it and if you would like to do it again?"
Q is damn sure that he doesn't want to drink anyone's piss again. Not ever again.
Larry's a great seminar leader. His students really get involved in their discussions. The time goes by much faster than it does in his other classes. Today, as they're leaving the room, Larry asks him to stay behind. "Q, I sense you're going through some personal turmoil, not only by what you said but by how you seem to be reacting to what we're talking about. I just want you to know that you can always come to me at any time with any issue and I will offer whatever advice I can. Our discussions will always be completely confidential."
"Thanks, Larry. I appreciate that. I think I'll be fine. This class really helps get me thinking about things." With that, Larry lets him go. Needless to say, Q's mind is kept busy most of the day, and little of it has to do with anything that happens in his other classes.
. . . . .
It's 7 pm. Drake Hall is unlike the other dorm buildings on campus. It's set up like some kind of luxury hotel. There's even someone at the desk who checks in visitors. "I'm here to see Brett in room 117," he tells the clerk. "Yes, he mentioned expecting someone at 7 but he didn't have your name. A bit strange, but it's really none of my business. His corridor is over there on the right. I'll buzz you in."
Wow. Impressive. He's just glad he wasn't given a third degree. He probably would have just given up and gone away. He walks through the door and finds Brett's room. He knocks. He hears a voice. "Enter the room naked. Crawl." And so it begins. Fuck!
He pulls off his T shirt and gets his sweat pants and boxer briefs down as he hears the door click open. He looks around to see if the coast is clear. He gets down, still holding his clothes, and does an awkward crawl into the room. Several red candles are lit, and some kind of exotic chant music is playing, something that sounds eastern or Indian or something like that. There's incense in the air as well and he can tell it's trying to disguise the odor of pot or hash.
"Drop those clothes right where you are and crawl over to me." Brett's wearing nothing but a leather jock and black boots. He stands on the other side of the rather spacious room. There's an oriental rug on the floor. This place is sumptuous. Q hopes Brett is sumptuous as well, or at least somewhat kind after everything he's been through.
"I've been told you're rather green, although it seems Jeffrey was able to make a lot of progress with you over the weekend. Sit here at my feet, Indian style, hands on your knees." Brett is smoking a good-sized blunt and he passes it to Q. After they've passed it back and forth several times, Brett snuffs it out. "Tell me about your body. What hurts the most?"
"My back between my shoulder blades, Sir."
"Was it okay to sit in class today?"
"A little sore, Sir, but not too bad. Not nearly as bad as it was riding here in the car with Jeffrey on Sunday night."
"yes. He told me you were rather raw when you left Easterbrook. Nonetheless, I hope you realize that as a potential boy slave something will always be sore."
"Yes, Sir," he says but not with much enthusiasm.
"You have doubts? Be honest with me. You'll never be punished for anything you tell me. I don't intend to be a disciplinarian in your life, just a Dom who always wants to see budding slaves like you properly mentored. A few of us are interested in you. This is the first time that we've ever had a sub as young as you on this campus. Amazing to find a freshman like you so ripe for plundering."
Plundering? The word makes Q nervous even as it's turning him on. "I do have some doubts, Sir, yes."
"Jeffrey made you drink his piss, several times, he tells me. Do you have doubts about that? Are you looking forward to doing it again?"
"hard to say, Sir. It makes me feel filthy inside and out and I don't like it."
"that's to be expected. To be honest, I was surprised to hear that he broke you in that way. You obviously weren't ready, considering how you've reacted."
"May I ask a question, Sir?"
"Yes. Any time. No need to ask."
"Does anyone ever really get ready for something like that?"
"Yes, Q. Absolutely. You might find it hard to believe, but it happens."
"I don't think I was ready, Sir. I hope I can say that."
"You're honest and that's good, Q. Yes, you obviously weren't ready. Jeffrey and I had a serious conversation about that. What I can tell you--and you might find it hard to believe this--but the next time you drink a Master's piss it will be because you beg him to give it to you, because you're ready to serve him as his urinal. Trust me on this."
"So if I never get to that point, it will never happen again?"
"I can't guarantee that, but it's the general idea. But enough discussion for now. I just wanted to find out if you would raise that issue and I was correct. Now I have another question for you. Are you ready to service a Master's boots? right now?"
Without another word, Q flips himself so he can get at Brett's black boots. He slobbers over them, licking and sucking it up his own spit.
"that's right, faggot. that's where you belong. Boots or feet. Always lower yourself before a superior man that way without even being asked. Feel at home when you're slobbering over a Master's feet, bowed down naked and subject to his direction and discipline. I want you to know that I usually have a riding crop in hand when a slave is at my feet. I'm not using one on you because you need a bit more time to recover from the weekend. But your time will come. Also, Jeffrey ways you're quite the pain pig. Q never heard that term before, "pain pig." Is he? Perhaps.
Brett is silent for a while. The only sound is Q licking and sucking his own spit off Brett's boots.
"Stop what you're doing now. Kneel up for me. Put your hands behind your back and pay attention to what I want to tell you."
Q gets into position.
"One of my fellow Doms works in the Registrar's Office. We've put in a name change for you. Your first name is now officially Q. Gary is only your middle name. Your instructors are being asked to refer to you as Q from now on. I'm aware that you've also been named Mikey, and a superior may call you that from time to time, but we've agreed that Q is now your preferred name."
"Who is `we,' Sir?"
"Any group of three or more Doms. In your case it was Jeffrey, Matt, myself and two other seniors here who haven't approached you yet. Word is out about you Q. We know you need to be trained as a slave—trained the right way by men who know what they're doing and won't harm you or dish out more than you're ready for."
All the while Brett's speaking he's got Q's nipples in his fingers. The pain is more severe than ever. Q is whining and inhaling through his teeth. "That's right, faggot. Get used to having sore nipples so you're always aware you're a slave.
"Yyyyes, Sir."
"When any Dom or Alpha is making you hurt, you should address him as Master, not Sir. Understand?"
"yes, Master." And Q wonders why it was such a relief for him to address Brett as Master.
"If you're a true slave, boy, pain turns you on and makes you obedient. Just like now. I bet you're ready to do anything I want you to." Q nods, realizing it's all true. He surrenders his nipples to Brett's torturing fingers. "Please, Master, help me become a good slave."
"Excellent." Brett lets go of his nipples and slaps his face a couple times. "I told you this morning that I was going to fuck you. Did you prepare yourself for me? I know it's hard to do so in a communal bathroom, so I'll understand if you haven't."
"No, Master, I couldn't. I'm so sorry."
"Were you taught how to do it?"
"Yes, Master."
"I have my own bathroom. Crawl in there. Clean yourself out now. Everything you'll need is in there. Get yourself ready for me. My cock is average, so it won't hurt when I fuck you. Get yourself ready. I want a smooth slick hole to fuck. Your hole, Q. Take your time and do a good job."
Q discovers that doing it himself is far more humiliating than when a Master does it. At least that way he feels like the Master is paying attention to him. This way is lonely. And creepy. Finally, cleansed and well lubed he crawls back to Brett, eager for his attention, no matter what it is.
"Stand up, slave."
Q stands. Brett grabs a nipple and makes the slave cry out loud. He says more about a slave being caged. "I'm going to cage your dick now. I don't want it out free in the air when I'm fucking you. This isn't about your little dick. It's about the pleasure you get from being used by a Master with no attention to yourself. The only cocks that matter are the Masters'."
Once the cage is in place Brett puts the key aside. "I'll hold on to this key. I know you have a second one back in your room. Don't you dare take the cage off on your own. Only a Master is allowed to set your boy dick free."
Brett orders Q to lie on his bed on its back and hold its legs up over its body. "That's good, slave. Hold your own legs up and spread them wide. Offer me that hole, faggot. It's your pussy, boy"
Q hates that word but realizes he has to get used to it. He does his best to get into position. Brett makes a few adjustments. "This is how you offer yourself, slave, when any Man wants to use you this way."
Brett enters him slowly but makes Q feel like his cock is huge and is breaking him in half. It's all a question of technique, he realizes. Brett fucks him thoroughly. Sometimes he's rough and other times he makes Q feel like he's making love to him/it. His hands are everywhere. He touches the slave's sore nipples, which makes the boy open himself up even more. He slaps its face, spits at it then uses his hands to rub his spit into the slave's face. Sometimes Brett looks mean; other times he looks at the slave as if he's in love with it.
Q never experienced anything like what Brett is doing to him. He's actually disappointed when at last Brett shoots his load into the slave's ..um...pussy, then withdraws. "Go get your tshirt. Use it to clean me off, faggot. Clean me good because you're gonna put my cock in your mouth when you're done."
By the time Q crawled from Brett's suite and threw on his pants. The t-shirt was fucked up now after Q had to clean Brett's cock with it after he fucked him. Q feels totally conquered and humiliated. Q has no doubts now that this is how he's meant to live.
Little did the new slaveboy realize that its resolve would be strongly tested before the night was over.
So that's all for now. Hope you like how it's developing. My name's Greg. ogt009966@gmail.com Write me any time, please?
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