Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 6
Small Town Slave Boy Reboot
This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story.
This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. Despite being tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, there are no supernatural elements in this story.
Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He is one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. He has a sister Elizabeth who is seven years older than him, a brother Donald who is four years older than him and another brother Thomas who is two years younger than him. His cousin Kieran is one year older than him.
Dylan is a small boy and will grow to be a small man. He is a cute kid, but he's skinny and lacks any sense of self-worth. He also has a small penis, which is a source of embarrassment for him. Unlike his brothers and his sister, he is gay. Much of his trauma and lack of self-esteem come from the fact that his authoritarian father made it clear from his words and his actions that he hated gay people and thought they were tools of Satan.
This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shift to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV.
There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements.
There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual.
For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned.
This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy.
Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/
You can contact me at pseudonominius@gmail.com.
Author's Notes
· If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members.
· I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories
· While this storyline is designed to mostly stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a principal character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here.
· I hope my revision process has gotten better and there are fewer errors in this chapter. I am my own editor and sometimes I don't catch typos, missing word, and misattribution errors. I apologize if any are still slipping through.
Links to My Stories
· My Roommate the Alchemist
· Wishcraft
· Alchemy and Songcraft
· Magery
· Elf Master
· The Pack
Other Stories
Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 6 (Outed Again)
One more Week Before School Starts
Dylan
The four of us were still lying naked on the sheet in the living room floor when we were awakened by a loud knocking on the door. Kurt was wrapped around me, and Steven was wrapped around Damian. Whoever was at the door knocked again. Kurt jumped up and said, "Dylan, Damian, grab your clothes and go down to the basement to get dressed."
Steven was looking out the window. He turned with an annoyed expression on his face and told Kurt, "It's your friend Greg. Let me grab the sheet and towels, then you answer the door."
Damian and I didn't hear anything more because we both jumped to follow Kurt's orders. We grabbed our clothes and rushed down the stairs to the basement family room. I got dressed quickly and then knelt on the carpet. Damian pulled his clothes on and gave me a quizzical look before kneeling next to me.
"This master-slave game you and Kurt play seems really exciting," he said, his voice showing that he was indeed excited. His good-sized cock was tenting his shorts.
"It's not a game," I replied seriously. "Kurt is my master for real."
"Wait. How does that happen? There's no such thing as slavery for real," he asked.
I smiled at him and said, "The only thing I ever really owned was myself, and I gave myself to Kurt. I do everything he says because he owns me, and it was my choice to surrender to him. It started as a game when we were kids, back before it became sexual at all. When we got older, I begged him to be my master."
Damian's eyes were wide, like he was trying to process what I was saying. I couldn't tell whether he was excited, scared or a little of both. He paused for a minute or so and then asked, "Do you think that's what Steven wants from me?"
I shook my head and replied honestly, "I doubt it. I've known Steven for years. If I had to guess he was following your lead last night. You seemed more into it than he was. Steven is really laid back. He's always acted like he was amused by me and Kurt and all our play acting. He still acts that way now that it's real."
"How can it be real, Dylan? Kurt can't really own you. That's illegal," he said.
"I know, but I've been researching it online," I explained. "When we're both adults, I plan to sign paperwork giving Kurt control of my finances and the ability to make decisions for me when it comes to medicine and contracts and things like that. And I'll find a contract online that I'll sign, making me his slave. It won't hold up in court, but it will be enough for the two of us. I plan to give it to him on his eighteenth birthday, along with the key to a chastity device if he hasn't already put me in one."
Damian laughed a little and asked, "Doesn't that make you the master, if you're making these decisions? It's kind of like you're in charge."
I frowned and then sighed. "In a manner of speaking, yes it does, but it would be my gift to him. I don't know that Kurt would carry it that far if I didn't make it clear that I wanted it. He's careful not to push me too hard or too fast. He's my master, but I'm sure that he loves me. I think he may have been in love with me as long as I've been in love with him," I said.
Damian sighed. "It was exciting last night to be treated like a slave, but I just want to be with Steven whatever it takes. If he wants me to be his slave, I'll try it out. If he wants me to be his boyfriend, I'll do that. I just don't know what he wants."
It felt weird to me to be the knowledgeable one helping someone else out, but I had known Steven for a long time. He was like an older brother to me. He got frustrated with me and seemed exasperated that I couldn't bring myself to care as much about school as he thought I should, but he was more of a brother to me than Donny. My own brother bullied me, beat on me when no one was looking and made my life miserable by making me ashamed of myself. Steven rarely raised his voice, and he was usually nothing but encouraging to me. And he'd never hit me, even though I'm sure he'd thought I needed a spanking from time to time. He was a good guy.
"Have you told Steven how you feel?" I asked. "He's smart and very intuitive, but he can't read your mind."
Damian shook his head and replied with the hint of tears playing at the corners of his eyes, "I haven't. I'm afraid of driving him off because he's still in love with someone else."
"With my cousin Kieran," I admitted. "I know, but Steven must know it's over; more like it never was. Kieran is more uptight and closeted than I ever was. Tell Steven that it was fun last night, and you're willing to do it again if he wants to do it but make it clear to him that you're willing to do whatever he wants. Play it cool and wait for Steven to go see my cousin. He's a smart guy. He'll see that it's over when he does."
"And I get him on the rebound," Damian sighed dejectedly. He didn't seem excited by that idea.
"The problem you have right now is that you're competing with the idea of my cousin Kieran. No one wins against an idea, but once Steven sees that it's over, that it never really began in the first place because they never even kissed, he'll see it for the fantasy it always was. And then he'll realize his feelings for you, the feelings he's had all along."
"Dude, I hope you're right because I think about Steven every minute of every day," he said earnestly.
I smiled at him and replied, "That's the way I've been with Kurt for years. If it's any help, I know that Steven really likes you. He's hard to read sometimes, but I'm sure that his feelings for you go deeper than just being friends with benefits. Just give him time because Steven is worth the effort."
"You sound like you're in love with him yourself," Damian said.
"No. I'm in love with Kurt, but I do love Steven. Aside from Kurt, I'm closer to him than to anyone else. I love him like he was my own brother. And I like the two of you together. You make him happy. Even if he doesn't tell you that, it's true. I see it."
Kurt
I opened the door and saw Greg standing there. He had a confused and anxious look on his face. There was going to be an uncomfortable discussion between us. I knew it would have to happen eventually, but I was hoping to hold off until Dylan's eighteenth birthday when we started being open at school. But now, it was going to happen today.
"Come in, Greg," I said, holding open the door for him.
He walked in and looked around hesitantly. "The boys are in the other room, so you don't have to freak out," I said. "But if you want to calm down and talk, I can have them come back and make us some breakfast."
Greg sat down on the couch and looked around, like he was looking for anything else out of place. I sat down in the chair opposite him and waited for him to look me in the eye. He seemed a little nervous like the ground was moving beneath his feet and he was afraid he was going to fall. He was a big guy, my height but more muscular. He looked anxious right then ... No! He looked hurt.
"I'm sorry if I saw something you didn't want me to see, Kurt. I didn't mean to spy on you. I'm just a little confused, is all. Are you gay now?" he asked.
"I am what I've always been, Greg. I'm a happy, confident bisexual guy. Only now I'm having sex with one of my best friends," I said pointedly.
"What about Alicia?" he asked. "Were you just stringing her along, or did you really like her? Were you having sex with ... that was Dylan, right, Pastor Morgan's son?"
I nodded and said with a smile, "It was indeed Dylan Morgan. He and I have been friends since sixth grade."
"And that's why you always hung around with him then, because you were having sex with him?" he asked, seemingly confused as to why a jock like me would hang out with a weird and quiet outsider like Dylan.
He was too nosey for his own business, but after my family and Dylan – hell! Dylan was basically family – after my family, Greg Miller was my best friend. I felt that he deserved some answers.
"I didn't have sex with him until this summer, after I broke up with Alicia," I said. "I did like her, but I didn't love her. It took me a while to realize that I was in love with Dylan, that I've probably been in love with him since middle school."
"Okay," he said quietly. "I can deal with that, I guess. You know that I have a gay aunt. The fact that you're gay doesn't bother me. I just ... Dude, it's like you were lying to me over the last few years. You should have told me."
I sighed and then said, "Look Greg. I didn't lie, I just didn't announce my sexuality. It doesn't embarrass me one little bit, but it's no one's business but mine."
He looked at me sheepishly and asked, "Were you staring at the team when we were naked in the showers?"
I laughed and replied, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice how fine some of the guys are, but none of you are my type."
Greg pretended to be offended and said, "I guess we wouldn't be. None of us are skinny, bony midgets!"
"Hey now! Dylan's fucking cute. Even Alicia thought he was," I replied. "I may be a muscly jock, but I like my guys small and skinny."
"Nothing too masculine, then. Are you sure you're bisexual? Dylan could almost pass for a girl if he let his hair grow out," he joked.
This was better. Greg had gotten over his initial shock and now we were back to bantering like old times. I didn't think he'd be too freaked out. I'd met his aunt Helen. She was a bit of a lesbian stereotype, but she was cool, and Greg loved her as much as she loved him.
"I am going to have him grow his hair out a little. I think he'd be even cuter with longer hair. I like my boys androgynous, but I want him to be pretty boy not a pretty girl," I explained.
"So, are you going to be open about your relationship at school?" he asked doubtfully. "You know what turds most of the guys are. I've had to crack a few heads over crude lesbian jokes before they realized Helen was my aunt."
I sighed and shook my head. "You know who his father is, and his snotty ass wipe of a brother is a sophomore at school with us. So, we're in the closet at school, and that means that I need you to keep our secret until I say otherwise."
"No problem, Dude. You're my best friend," he said with determination. "And speaking of that I want to apologize for reacting like all the old bible beaters in this town. I'm not like that. You know I'm not. And if you need some help beating the shit out of any of the others, let me know."
"That won't be necessary, Greg. I don't anticipate any trouble from the guys, but I'll keep your offer in mind if it gets to be a problem. I plan to ignore them because their opinion doesn't matter to me at all. I know some of them still call me nigger behind my back, so I can take a few faggot comments without too much trouble."
"If I hear them call you faggot, I'm going to beat their asses anyway. I don't like that kind of talk. It's why my family stopped going to St. Sebastian's and started going to that Universal Unitarian church on Rosewater. My dad said that he doesn't want to hear anyone badmouthing his sister and it didn't feel right beating on a sixty-year-old bishop," Greg said with a comically mean look on his face as he slammed his right fist into his left palm.
"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate you being willing to get suspended for defending my reputation, but I think the team likes winning games more than they like making faggot jokes. However, there's something else I need you to do. Steven's boyfriend also goes to our school. He's in the closet until he turns eighteen because Steven is already an adult, and he doesn't want to get him in trouble. You can't tell anyone that he's gay either."
"No problem," he replied.
"It's Damian Wilder from the swim team," I said.
Greg burst out laughing. "All the guys on the swim team are gay!" he joked. We all knew it wasn't true, but it was a thing that the football team always joked about, a way of razzing the swimmers for not being real athletes.
I laughed at his joke (even though I didn't think it was very funny) and then asked, "Do you want breakfast?"
"Sure!" Greg said, rubbing his muscular abdomen. "I'm always up for a good breakfast."
I went to the basement and called for the boys and told them to make bacon, eggs, and buttermilk pancakes for four. I was going to give Kieran his smoothie. If I told him to eat fattening food like pancakes and bacon, he'd find some way to throw it up later.
Dylan
When Damian and I came upstairs, Kurt had me put on my pink frilly apron. Damian wore the long black one that Steven often used when cooking. Since I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, I assumed we were in boyfriend mode again so whoever was here wouldn't freak out. It was okay. I liked boyfriend Kurt almost as much as master Kurt. Well, it wasn't really close. I preferred master Kurt by a lot, but I'd take him anyway I could get him.
I was not happy when I saw Greg Miller come into the kitchen, however. I hated him; he was always trying to come between Kurt and me. He seemed to purposefully try to interfere with any plans Kurt and I made. And Kurt had always been standoffish around me when Greg was around, but not today. He strode over and adjusted the frilly sleeves on my apron and then kissed me forcefully, wrapping his arms around me and patting my butt possessively.
"Boys, I want to let you know that Greg accidentally saw us in a big gay naked heap this morning when he walked by the window, so he knows all about us," Kurt said. "But he'll help guard your closet door until you're ready to come out."
Greg waved at us and said, "That's right. You can count on me."
I was skeptical. Aside from Kurt, I thought all the football players were total douchebags, but I knew Kurt would take care of any problems. That was the advantage of having a master instead of just a boyfriend. I trusted my master to take care of problems, so I didn't have to worry about them. If Kurt said Greg would keep quiet, I had to trust him that it was true.
Damian on the other hand, had turned red. In two days, he'd been outed to two different people, and his boyfriend wasn't even in the room to comfort him. I reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. When Kurt saw it, he reached out and drew Damian into a hug as well.
When Steven did come into the room, he looked at Greg and then at Kurt before going over to Damian and pulling him away from his brother so he could give him a hug. I was fascinated by how an average sized guy like Damian could look so small in Steven's arms. Since I was standing nearby, I heard Steven whispering to Damian that it was okay. Greg wouldn't say anything to anyone. He was giving Kurt a pointed look while he said it, and Kurt whispered to me, "I'd better go and make sure Greg knows not to fuck with Steven."
That was true. Steven was slenderer than the football players, but he had reach and he was remarkably strong. He's already promised that he was going to beat the shit out of Donny, and I didn't doubt him for a moment. Even though he was usually cool, calm, and collected, I knew that he also practiced taekwondo.
Damian and I got started on breakfast. I used to get confused on these kinds of things, but ever since Steven had shown me to bullet point everything to cut down on the words, it was easy. I went to the little index card box on the counter and pulled out the card for eggs, bacon, and pancakes. It wasn't a recipe card. It was a simple list of tasks in order. The recipe for buttermilk pancakes was in the second section, also rewritten to have fewer words to mess with my dyslexia.
Damian was a good helper in the kitchen. I had to go into the living room to get Greg's breakfast order. Kurt wasn't in the room, but Greg told me that he wanted scrambled eggs. When I tried to leave, he took hold of my arm and said, "Be good to Kurt. He's my best friend and I can see that he's totally into you."
I looked into Greg's eyes and said, "I will be. I love him and I could never hurt him."
"You do, don't you?" he asked. "Is that why you always follow him around and jump whenever he says boo?"
I nodded and said, "I would do anything for Kurt."
"Damn!" he exclaimed. "I wish I had someone who loved me the way you seem to love Kurt."
He jumped up and pulled me into a hug. It was weird. I didn't like him, and I didn't think he liked me. But his chest was firm, and he smelled good, and he was being nice to me. He'd rarely spoken to me in the years he and Kurt have been hanging around together. I started to get hard and had to pull away.
"Thank you, sir," I said.
When I got back into the kitchen, Damian was counting out the bacon and putting it in the skillet. He asked me, "Don't you eat bacon?"
I shook my head and said, "No. I don't eat much, so Kurt has me on a special diet. I'm going to have a breakfast smoothie while you guys eat."
Damian was shaking his head. "You are a strange guy, Dylan. You're going to make a delicious breakfast and you're going to eat an instant breakfast shake," he said.
I shrugged. For some reason I felt like bonding with Damian, so I sighed and admitted, "Steven caught me throwing away dinner and Kurt kept at me until I admitted that I sometimes threw up after eating. I'm not smart. I'm not that good looking and I'm not athletic. Being a skinny gay boy with a round butt is basically my only good quality. Sometimes I get paranoid about gaining weight."
"Dude!" Damian objected. "I think you're cute and Kurt obviously loves the way you look. And you don't seem dumb to me."
"I only get passing grades because of Kurt and Steven, and I can barely read because of my dyslexia," I said.
Damian laughed at me and replied, "Please tell me you aren't comparing yourself to the Groths. Steven and Kurt both are straight A students, and absolutely everything comes naturally to them. Steven was number one in his class last year, and I think Kurt is number one in our class so far. On top of that, both are superb athletes. And they're both so handsome they could be movie stars. If I compared myself to Steven, I'd think I was stupid, ugly, and clumsy as well. These guys are better than us, but I don't let it make me feel bad, and you shouldn't either."
I shrugged and replied, "I guess so. Their dad is the same, you know. The Groths make my whole family look like losers."
It was true. My dad was handsome, but he was a perpetual loser, constantly getting involved in money making schemes and losing his investment. And he was a total ass. All us kids hated him. Lizzie got pregnant so Dad would have to let her get married before the end of her senior year, and Donny often raged about how he'd like to beat the crap out of dad. He usually talked like that before laying into me, but it was Dad he was mad at. Mom was a self-absorbed drunk who hated her own life more than she hated us kids. And Tommy sucked up to Dad all the time but would smirk behind his back like he had no respect for his father whatsoever. The only one in our house who'd ever been on the honor roll was Kieran.
Damian and I finished the breakfast and set the table. Kurt complimented both of us. He patted my butt and then acted like he was going to pat Damian's as well, but he winked at him instead and said, "Your perky ass is cute, but it belongs to Steven, so I'd better not."
He gave Damian a side hug instead and then took me into a full hug. "Make your shake properly and then join us at the table. We're in boyfriend mode this morning. We've already shaken Greg's world enough for now. He doesn't need to know what an obedient little slave bitch you are."
"Does that mean I don't have to obey you, master?" I teased.
"You do anything you want, slave boy, but I'll discipline you for it later if you're disobedient," he said with a fake scowl. "And call me Kurt when we're in boyfriend mode. I'll call you Dylan or some cutesy little pet name."
I gave him a heartfelt "thank you, master" before mixing preparing my breakfast. I was tempted to use only half the normal amount of the mix, but I'd promised Kurt that I would eat what he told me. Breakfast was good. After Damian and I cleaned up, we went out in the backyard. Kurt, Steven, Greg, and Damian threw the football around. I didn't want to play, so I made them some fruit punch with cherry, apple, and pear juice and brought it out onto the deck. I'd put some iced tea on for later.
I didn't like sports, but I liked watching Kurt play. I liked watching the others too, but it was Kurt who held my attention. His brown skin and rippling muscles made me horny as hell. I hated to admit that Greg's body also turned me on. He was more muscular than Kurt, but he looked bulkier while Kurt looked more natural, and he had a thicker middle to go with his broad chest. (He lacked that classic v shape that was so sexy on men). He wore his blond hair short, almost in a buzz cut. I thought he was moderately handsome, but nowhere near so handsome as the Groth boys. Steven and Damian were good looking too. Steven was the tallest of the guys, and his muscular frame was built for swimming. His skin was a lighter shade of brown than Kurt's. Most people thought that Steven was the better looking of the two brothers. Maybe he was, in an objective way, but it was Kurt I was in love with, so I was biased in his favor. Damian was cuter than Greg, with his sandy hair and swimmer's body. For a gay bottom boy like me, all this eye candy was pure heaven.
The day was good. Even though I wasn't kneeling and kissing Kurt's feet, I still had an opportunity to serve him and his friends. It seemed that Damian was no longer interested in playing servant to Steven. He was having too much fun being one of the guys. It didn't bother me. He wasn't really like me, but when it came time to make lunch and then later dinner, he joined me in preparing the food and cleaning up.
Greg seemed much nicer to me now that he knew what I was to Kurt. I thought that I had confused him before. He seemed to have no trouble accepting me as Kurt's boyfriend. After dinner, while I was serving drinks (soda and iced tea), Greg held out his hand and said, "Don't forget me, Sexy Dude."
Both Kurt and I gave him a look, but shrugged and said, "It's true. I never really looked at a guy as sexy before I found out you were gay, Kurt, but now I keep seeing how sweet your boy's butt looks in those shorts. I may not be into guys, but I can see what you like about it."
"Thank you, sir," I replied, as I handed him his coke.
Greg gave me a look that implied that I'd almost let the cat out of the bag, but I didn't care. I wanted to be able to kneel at Kurt's feet when Greg was here. I didn't want to hide what I was. I loved being Kurt's boyfriend, but I was his slave at heart.
Steven and Damian disappeared upstairs for a while before Damian had to drive back home. He lived a few miles outside of town and his dad didn't like him driving home too late. Since he'd promised his mom that he would go to church with her the next day, he couldn't stay over again. Greg stayed until late, but he finally left around midnight.
As soon as Greg was out the door, Kurt grabbed me tight and kissed me. Then he said, "Get naked, slave boy, and get the shower ready. I'll join you in a minute."
I almost ran downstairs so I could get everything we needed, towels, washcloths and all our toiletries. I adjusted the water, so it was a little warmer than I liked it, but just the way Kurt preferred it. He came into the basement bathroom just as I was laying out my douching supplies. We showered first. I washed Kurt's body then he washed mine. I was so horny by the time we were done that I thought I was going to explode. I almost came from running my hands over his firm body, feeling his tight muscles beneath his smooth skin.
Despite not shaving his body, Kurt didn't have a lot of body hair. It may have been his African American ancestry because I knew that his white dad was a hairy guy. His massive cock grew to its full length while I was cleaning it and I was amazed that the entire thing could fit inside me. It was more than twice the length of my own small cock and more than twice as thick. When I washed his scrotum, I could feel his large balls inside. Each of his was the size of both of mine put together. He was literally twice the man I was.
Kurt paid special attention to my butt when he washed me. His fingers rubbed my hole and had me moaning even before he slipped a long soapy finger inside me and massaged me from the inside. I grew weak in the knees and would have fallen if Kurt hadn't wrapped one muscular arm around my waist to keep me standing.
Afterwards, I dried him with a big fluffy towel before drying myself with the same towel. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor in front of him. I dropped to my knees and lowered my gaze, like a proper slave. "I'm not going to be able to fuck you until I take a piss. Open your mouth and take it," he ordered.
Everything that came from my master's body was precious to me. While I didn't love the taste of urine, I loved drinking my master's piss. Doing this intimate act for him made me feel like I really was serving a superior man. It was true, of course, but I seldom had a chance to feel it this intensely. Taking his shaft in my hand, I put my mouth around the head of his cock and held it there.
"I'm not going to hold back. I'm going to piss full stream and you'd better not spill a drop, or I'll have to punish you, slave boy," Kurt said. The look on his face had transitioned fully from boyfriend to master. His jaw was set, and his eyes were narrowed, and a shiver of pleasure shot through my body.
I was torn. I wanted to spill his piss all over my body, just so he would beat my ass until it swelled and turned red. But I didn't want to do anything that would delay Kurt shoving his cock inside me again. After he'd bottomed out in my ass last night, I'd become addicted. I needed him more than he could possibly understand. My whole life now revolved around his massive cock, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
I swallowed his piss as fast it came, and he hadn't been kidding about not holding back. He didn't tease me with a slow trickle; he unloaded with a powerful stream that splashed against the back of my throat. He wasn't making it easy for me. I swallowed as fast as I could and still barely kept up. When he finished, I sucked the last few drops out of his dick, then he patted my cheek and said, "Good boy! Now douche your boy pussy and brush your teeth. Don't forget to shave your crack. You've got a little stubble back there. Do a good job, but don't keep me waiting."
I rushed my hygiene as quickly as I could, douching my butt while Kurt brushed his teeth. Then I cleaned my teeth and gargled with mouthwash until my breath was fresh enough for my master to kiss me if he wanted. Then I quickly shaved my crack. I decided to touch up my legs as well, and to shave my face again. Kurt liked me smooth, and I'd discovered that I liked it too. Of course, I would have done it for Kurt whether I liked it or not.
After checking for stray stubble, I went into the basement guest room. Kurt was sitting on the side of the bed with his hands on his knees. He looked handsome, stern, and powerful. I dropped to my knees, not only from my deep respect for him but also from need to abase myself before a superior man. And Kurt was my superior in every way. I bent down and placed my lips against his feet. They were smooth and muscular, mostly hairless but with a few strands on his toes. I kissed each foot three times and then remained, bowing over his feet until he ordered me to stand up.
"I still owe you for the five infractions you had yesterday. You've been good today, so I've got nothing to add, unless you do," he said.
I thought about it and then admitted to a few he couldn't have known about, "I played with my cocklet a little while I was watching you play football, and I was disrespectful to your friend Greg when he first came over. I was acting like I was his equal when I'm not. And I shared information about Steven to Damian to help him get Steven to fall in love with him. That's three more, master. Make it four more because I threw food away yesterday."
"Steven says that I shouldn't spank you over your eating habits; and I agree with him. Next time you throw food away or vomit up your food you'll roll the dice and that will be the number of days before I fuck you again," he said.
Shit! I thought. That's hitting below the belt. He was going to deny me sex when I didn't eat what he wanted.
Kurt took the dice and handed them to me. "That's eight infractions, so I'm going to multiply whatever you roll on the dice by the number of infractions and that's the number of swats you're going to get tonight. And every time you roll a six on a die, you're going to roll an extra die," he said.
I took the dice and rolled them in my hand. The last time, I'd rolled a total of 5. If I did that again, I would get forty swats. I tossed the dice on the table one at a time. The first one came up 5 and the second 4. That was a total of 9, so Kurt was going to give me ..."
"That's seventy-two swats, slave boy," he announced. "Go get a towel and lay it on the bed in case you cum while I'm disciplining you."
I grabbed a fresh towel and laid it down on the edge of the bed, then I lay down on it. Kurt closed my legs, so my balls were covered and then he held the paddle in front of my face. "Kiss it, slave boy," he commanded.
I pressed my lips to the hard surface and then tried to brace myself. It didn't matter. Kurt didn't start off easy on me. The sound of that first blow bouncing off my ass resounded around the room. I jumped a little from the pain. Kurt drew back and prepared for a second strike and then paused. "That one doesn't count, you know, because you didn't count it out loud and thank me for it," he stated.
When the next blow struck, I shouted, "One master. Thank you, master."
I counted every blow, and I didn't even try to hold back the tears. I was crying by the twelfth blow and sobbing loudly after the thirty second. The pain in my ass was excruciating. When he'd given me forty two blows, he paused and held the paddle to my face again. I kissed it, wondering why he was stopping early. I was grateful, but it didn't feel right.
Kurt rubbed my sore ass and whistled. "That is a mighty red ass, slave boy. Now turn over," he commanded.
He pulled out a device that looked like a couple of stiff pieces of leather attached short handle. The trapezoidal pieces of leather were attached so that it looked like they were stacked. He held the leather end toward my lips and said, "Kiss it, slave boy."
I kissed the cool leather with my wet lips. Kurt grinned at me and asked, "Do you know what this is for?"
I shook my head and said, "No master."
"From now on, I'm only giving you between forty and fifty swats on the ass. Then I'm going to take whatever is left over and divide it by ten. That's the number of times I'm going to smack your cocklet or balls with this little toy," he announced. "If I were you, I wouldn't forget to count them and say thank you."
This was worse than the spanking because he was going to be hitting my nuts, and I was going to see it coming. My eyes were wide with anxious anticipation, but Kurt was smiling at me like he was going to enjoy this. And inside, I knew that I would at least enjoy the knowledge that he was enjoying it.
He lifted the little leather whip and brought it down with a sharp crack right on the shaft of my cocklet. It hurt like hell, and I lifted my legs up as I cried out, "That's one! Thank you master!"
Kurt laughed and said, "That looked like it stung a little, slave boy. Better you than me, I guess."
Then he pulled the whip back and snapped it hard against the head of penis. I screamed, "That's two! Thank you, master!"
"I guess it's a good thing you're not going to be using that little cocklet like a real man because I predict it's going to be sore a lot of the time," he chuckled.
Kurt used the leather flaps to stroke my cocklet. He said, "You must like this because you're still hard and leaking precum all over your belly. If you're a little masochist, I may have to explore my own sadistic side just to keep you satisfied. Does this type of sex play excite you, Dylan?"
He used my name and gave me a questioning look. I was sure that meant that he wasn't playing at that moment; he was gathering information, trying to figure out what I liked. And the truth was that I did like it when he hit my cocklet with that leather ... thing. Despite the pain, I was more aroused now than I was before, but I was glad he was only giving me three hits today.
Kurt tapped my cocklet lightly with the leather flaps, then he drew back his arm and swung down only to snap the flaps a few inches above the head. I jumped and he smiled a mischievous smile. He did that a few times and then THWAP! He snapped the leather against my balls. Sharp pain and a wave of nausea washed over me. I wanted to curl into a ball, but Kurt sat next to me and held my legs down so he could examine my scrotum.
"I know it hurts, but you're only a little red. I need to ask you a serious question now Dylan. Was this too much for you? Or did you enjoy it a little?" he asked.
"It hurt a lot, master, but I did enjoy it," I replied. I was still coming to terms with how much I enjoyed a little pain during sex.
"He put his lips against my ear and whispered, "So did I, slave boy."
Then Kurt guided me up onto the bed, so my head was lying back against the pillows. He leaned down and kissed me. He bit my lips gently so as not leave a mark. He was being careful not to leave any clues for my hateful, homophobic father to use to figure out that I was gay. His fingers slid down between my legs and stroked my crack. I took a deep breath and sighed with contentment.
"You're silky smooth and sexy down there, boy. Do you want me to eat your slave pussy?" he teased.
"Yes master!" I cried. At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than to feel his tongue in my butt.
Kurt lifted my hips buried his face in my crack and I sighed when his tongue touched my hole. He thrust inside me and tickled my ass until I began to relax. My hands were clenching wads of sheet in their grasp. "You taste really good, slave boy. I could eat your butt all night long, but I think my cock and your pussy want to get together now," he said.
His fingers stroked me gently and he asked, "Do you want me inside you now, little slave?"
"Yes master. Please put your monster cock inside me, now," I begged.
He patted my butt and said, "Lube first. We can't ever get too excited and forget it, Dylan. My mutant cock will tear you up without it."
He was always serious when he called me by my name and the look in his eyes was a little sad. I put my hand on his arm and said, "Your brother shouldn't say things like that to you, master. I think your cock is beautiful. It's big, but it's not too big for me. I love it. I won't call it a monster anymore."
Kurt kissed me gently, then bit my lip. "It is a monster, and I don't mind if you call it that, not if you really like it. I just worry that it's too big for you."
"No master, it's not too big. I like the fact that you can make me feel so full," I said. "I worship your cock ... and I worship you."
Kurt started rubbing lube into my butt. He was smiling. "That's good, slave boy. All slaves should worship their masters; just like all masters should cherish and protect their pretty little slaves. Of course, I should punish you for disrespecting my brother, but right now I'm too excited. All I want to do is stick my monster cock inside you."
"Do it master! Please, I beg you. Take me hard," I begged. I gave my butt a wiggle to let him know how desperate I was.
Kurt teased me with his fingers, sending shivers up my spine. "Who's the master here, slave boy? We have sex on my terms, and I'm not done playing with this little boy hole of yours yet."
I whined at him, but he continued to play until he found my gay spot and then he stroked it until I was leaking a steady stream. He rubbed the head of his massive cock against me and then pressed forward. I loved this moment. The pain when he entered me felt unbelievably good. It carried me to a special state of mind where I existed only in my hole and my whole body was attuned to pleasure. And I felt like I was a part of Kurt's powerful body, like his cock, slowly docking inside me, was making us into one being.
Kurt was as gentle as he could be, but his cock was big enough that every inch hurt going in. He pushed an inch inside at a time then waited for the pain to subside before pushing inside again. I moaned with each push and tried to relax my hole. The real pain began when he pressed against my inner sphincter. Sharp pain ran through me, but my cocklet didn't wilt. The pain made me wince, but it made my little penis even harder.
"I hear your pain, slave boy, but I only have a couple of inches left. You took it last night; you can take it tonight," he said.
He pushed gently a couple more times and rebounded each time. "Damn, you're closed up tighter than a clam tonight, boy," he said.
I looked up at him and begged, "Just shove the last couple of inches inside me, master. I can take it, and it will be over in a second. Please, master."
Kurt paused to think about it for a moment, then he said, "You asked for it, slave boy. You begged me. Don't forget that."
He inhaled deeply and I did the same, right along with him. Then he grabbed my thighs right up near my hips and pushed hard with relentless force. I screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure, "YES SIR! THAT HURTS SO GOOD!"
And Kurt slid home. He leaned forward and stroked my sweaty forehead with his hand and then he ran his fingers around my lips. "I should probably stay more aloof, since I'm your master and you're my slave, but goddam it, Dylan, you're so pretty and you're even prettier when you get that look on your face."
"What look, master?" I gasped.
"The look you have on your face right now. The one that says, `I'm in incredible pain, but I'm loving it'. You have no idea how sexy that is," he explained. He kissed my lips and added, "I love you, slave boy. I think I've loved you for years."
It was confession time. I looked up into his eyes and admitted, "I got hard the first time I sat next to you in sixth grade, master. I didn't understand it at the time. All I knew was that I wanted to be with you every moment of every day. When I got old enough to discover porn, I couldn't masturbate without picturing your face and your body."
"That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me," Kurt exclaimed. "It may be the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to anyone."
He ran his hands along my slender and smooth chest, and then down my thighs. "And now we fuck for real," he said.
He pulled his hips back, squirted some more lube on his cock, then thrust inside me. I'd read about this on the internet, and I tried to follow the advice I seen. I relaxed on his way on and then clamped down when he pulled out. My cocklet was throbbing, swollen and red. It was leaking a steady stream of precum.
Kurt squirted more lube on his cock before each of the next three thrusts. By then, my ass was slippery enough to make the fuck easier. I threw my head back and moaned as Kurt pounded my ass. I shoved my butt back against him with each thrust. I knew I must have looked like a wanton whore, but I didn't care. I wanted to be Kurt's whore, his slut, his faggot ... his slave.
"I'm going to cum, slave boy. Are you ready?" he asked.
"I am, master," I gasped. "I'm just ... uh! I'm just waiting for permission. A slave ... shouldn't cum ... without permission ... master."
Kurt spoke in a low but powerful tone that resonated through my body. "I want you to cum for me, slave boy. It's sexy as hell that you cum without anyone touching your cocklet. I want you to cum just from the feeling of my cock in your ass and from the sound of my voice. Can you feel your little nuts tightening? Can you feel the cum filling your shaft?"
I started moaning, "Yes master! I can feel it."
"Cum now!" he ordered. "Cum for your master!"
And I did. My nuts drew tight against my body, and a tingling sensation ran across my skin. It was like my whole body had an orgasm. Muscles from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes contracted and relaxed. The orgasm wasn't centered in my cocklet, although it felt good there too. Mostly, I felt like I was peeing all over myself. The strange thing was, no matter how good it felt, I was more caught up in Kurt's orgasm. He inhaled deeply and clenched his jaw. His pecs danced a little and I could see his arteries or veins (I didn't know which they were) standing out as his neck muscles tightened. The moment when his eyes widened and lips parted to let out a deep groan told me was ready. Then he slammed his monster cock inside me so deep that his pubes were flattened against the cheeks of my butt.
I was squeezing his cock with my ass. He must have loved it because he growled, "Take my load, slave boy! Keep milking my cock like the little bitch you are!"
He collapsed on top of me when he'd finished, and I could barely breathe. I didn't care. Being crushed beneath his muscular body made me feel like I was in heaven. I ran my hands along his strong lats, and I squeezed his waist with my legs. Suddenly he rolled over so that I was on top of him, and he devoured my lips with his own. He kissed my sweaty forehead and then held me gently on top of him.
"I want to fall asleep this way, Dylan, with your slender body sprawled on top of me, my cock in your ass and your cum slowly gluing us together," he mumbled. "I'm happy to be your master, Dylan, and I'm happy you're my sexy catamite."
I stroked his chest softly and replied, "We were born to be together, master, like Zeus and Ganymede."
"Like Hadrian and Antinous," he said. "We've even got our own little love nest down here in the basement like they had in the palace."
I fell asleep with Kurt's cock still filling my ass. He was so big that he didn't slip out even when he started to soften. I could feel his chest rising and falling beneath my head, and his hands were idly stroking my back and my hair. I slept soundly and my dreams were wonderful. They weren't even sexual.
I dreamed about the two of us living together. He came home to find me naked and kneeling in the home. He told me to rise and follow him into the living room. I knelt in front of him while he sat down in his thronelike chair, and I removed his shoes and socks so I could massage his feet and kiss them.
When the timer rang, I jumped up to get his dinner. I served him while he ate, and then I cleaned up the mess and put everything away while he played video games on the television. When everything was spotless, he picked me up and carried me to our bed and he allowed me to worship him until he was ready to fuck me. He was rough and demanding, pushing me beyond my limits, but when he'd cum and I'd cleaned his cock, we cuddled next to each other until we fell asleep.
It was a happy dream. I didn't even cum, but I was so happy that I'd left him satisfied. It was all I wanted.
Characters
· Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story.
· Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave.
· Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story.
· Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams.
· Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard.
· Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school.
· Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps.
· Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt.
· Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store.
· Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave.
· Roger Growth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 10 years ago, and he's been Cory's master.
· Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt.
· Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has red hair and freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.