A kinky story written by Naughty Bard | Chapter 13

Click here to see all published chapters. | Illustration by Theo Blaze.


I couldn’t really afford to enjoy my ‘broken mess state’ for long since Seth had made it crystal clear that the second he was done using me I had become persona non grata in his crib so I pretty much had to scram. On the other hand, I had quite a bit of time to mull over the words he had spoken, even though for the life of me, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I mean what the hell was that about? I still had no idea what I had done wrong, honest! I had finally realized he truly was one of my gods (which, let’s face it, wasn’t that hard, all you had to do was be a straight, cute, sadistic asshole) and had started behaving accordingly. I wanted him to be my master now, I really did! I didn’t hate him anymore. I understood I had been a complete fool and an idiot and all that shit (which was so like me) and I was finally ready to mend my ways. But he didn’t like that apparently. Could it be that he didn’t want me to be obedient and all fucking submissive? Was that it? Man, I was totally drawing a blank! And that wasn’t even the worst part of my day! I still had to see Psycho-boy. I actually was on my way to his place when I decided it was time to stop thinking about Seth and start concentrating on Satan’s spawn.

My eyes had to adjust to the ‘slight’ change of settings. The trailer park where the Coopers lived was a very different scenario compared to the good neighborhood where Kieran and I lived, or Seth. Even Topher’s house was a manor compared to this. I mean it was a trailer park so I guess I don’t need to say more, but still it was pretty run down. There was nothing nice about that place, not even remotely. I looked around nervously till I found their trailer. The light blue paint on the wall must have been 500 years old and it was peeling off everywhere. I put my bike down and, taking a huge breath to give myself some courage, I rang the bell. Nothing happened. I fidgeted a little then rang again. Nothing. I started knocking.

“Jacob?” I called. But no one came to the door. I checked my watch. I was a few minutes early to be honest so I sat myself down on one of the small, dirty steps that were leading up to the door and waited. There were a few kids around, most a bit younger than me, shooting hoops in an improvised court some 20 yards from where I was. I found myself thinking: ‘They all look straight… that must really feel good… something I’ll never feel… they’re so lucky! No, luck has nothing to do with it. They deserve it, I don’t. It’s as simple as that! Wonder how soon they’re gonna find themselves a stupid faggot that they can bully and make him serve their needs…’

I waited for almost twenty minutes, watching the kids play. Basketball shouldn’t be that much of a contact sport, but those guys… Man, they were playing rough! With almost no rules. Whoever got the ball just seemed to do his best to power his way to the hoop whenever he got possession, and that usually came through an illegal power grab. The others would block any way they could, grabbing, holding, pushing. It was like seeing a million fouls on all sides every minute.

There was one kid who was the exception. He stood out a bit at first because he looked so geeky in comparison to the others. Taller than me, with a lot of zits. He was skinny and bony. He seemed to be my age, while the others were probably about Jacob’s age. He was also the only one with any concept of the rules. He kept calling fouls, with more than good reason, but that only seemed to intensify the name calling. “Pussy”, “Fag”, “Bitch”, “Sissy” you know, the whole repertoire. Then I heard one of the others call him “Ken”.

I kept on speculating for a while, trying to keep my brain occupied. One of the younger kids, probably the loudest and most aggressive, suddenly shot me a menacing look. I guess my staring must have distracted him or whatever. I got a little nervous. He missed a pass coming his way, and the ball bounced away across the nearby field. And without thinking twice he turned to the older boy and went: “Hey, Thompson, go fetch it.”

So, the older kid had to be Ken Thompson, huh? Weird. The name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. From where they were all standing, this Ken had the furthest to go in order to get the ball, but he didn’t even try to protest and did exactly as the younger kid had told him to. Not too different from what I would have done with Kieran, quite frankly and I’m talking even way before coming out to him. I watched geek-boy run after the ball, stupidly feeling a tad jealous. Then I looked back to the others.

Man… they were hot! Not the Ken kid I mean, but the others. I closed my eyes for a moment. They were all what my grandpa would call ‘trailer trash’ and I found them hot as fuck. And my dick agreed with me, big time! I was totally hopeless. I know I’m being a little classist here but whatever. What if I offered them my services? You know? Just walk over to them and tell them I’d love to suck their cocks and be their slave or whatever. Guess simply telling them I was a fag would have probably done the trick. And that was likely going to be the only chance I would get. I mean what if they decided to make the Ken kid their bitch? Looked like he was walking down that path already. I was better than him, no question about it! I smiled to myself. The idea was totally absurd of course, no doubt they would have pulverized me right there and then but I amused myself with it for a moment. You have to admit it was intriguing. Then a voice inside my head went:

‘Hey, retard! Seriously? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ It sounded unusually stern ‘It’s not bad enough you got… how many masters running your life now? Did I count four? Not to mention what Ace and Connor might do to you if you bump into them? Do you really wanna invite someone else to the friggin party?’ Man it was mean! ‘If your life doesn’t totally suck right now, it’s gonna suck even more big time once school starts. Did you think about that? Of course not, you dumbass! How will you find time to do your homework and serve all these masters once school starts? Yeah, I bet mom and dad will be real proud when you have to drop out of school…”

It went on for a while lecturing me and telling me in great detail what ‘it’ thought of me. For once, I listened and paid attention. I hadn’t really thought about the future at all, quite frankly. Not that I was gonna start now, it didn’t seem like a good time but I kept my eyes closed, calling upon all my willpower to focus my mind elsewhere. It worked. I opened my eyes when my dick got back to soft. I actually breathed a sigh of relief. What the hell was I thinking? Moron! The kids were back into their game. Their rough-housing was even worse, and I could see that Ken kid getting the worst of it. Man, talk about dodging a bullet! Clearly, Jacob would be more than enough to handle for the rest of the day. Right. Jacob. Where the hell was he?

A few cars passed by but no trace of him. Sure, I could have called him on the phone but my whole being told me it was not a good idea. Not by a long, long shot. So I waited some more till I finally heard the familiar rattle skateboard wheels make on asphalt. And there he was. His baseball cap was backwards as always and a couple of dark tufts were coming out on his forehead. He was hot, in a soon-to-be-joining-the-closest-juvie kinda way. I stood up and sort of smiled awkwardly at him. He smirked back as he was skating towards me. When we were three feet apart he stopped, kicked up his skateboard in a very cool way and I went:

“Hi… master Jac…” but he spit on my face, right between my eyes, sneering evilly and obviously cutting me off. I looked at his nasty grin and his greenish, brownish eyes. This wasn’t gonna be easy. Oh boy!

“Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?” he said not even remotely trying to keep his voice down. I froze for a second.

“Uhm… Sir?” I enquired very politely but he grabbed my hair forcefully:

“What did I fucking say to you yesterday?” he barked pulling my head down and holding my face close to his. He was shorter than me “What did I tell you to do every fucking time you see me, you homo?” he went on. His breath smelled like cigarettes. I had time to notice that before it totally hit me.

“Oh! Yes, Sir… I’m sorry, Sir…” I said “…but we’re outside, Sir… can we please…” I whined.

“Just fucking do it, faggot!” he growled, yanking my hair more forcefully. I groaned in pain but I felt my knees bending slightly.

“Yes Sir…” I winced visibly, looking around quickly to see how many people were gonna witness what I was about to do. My heart was pounding again. This was like that damn skater park all over again, when Kieran had ‘summoned’ me to bring them food. Only this time there actually were people around. Fuck! What if someone I knew saw me? It was pretty unlikely to be honest. We were in Miami, not friggin Chula Vista, and like I said it was a very different part of town. But still, it could have happened, right? And although all that shit was going through my brain, I still kneeled in the dirt, lowered my face, stuck out my tongue and licked the top of his filthy sneaker. Once, twice, three times.

“Yeah, that’s it! Good faggot! Hehe!” He snickered.

I kept licking, nervous as hell but also… yep, you betcha, I was hard. Again. Still surprised, at this point? Come on! But let me stress the fact that I truly was terrified. I know it’s weird but I swear I had this thrill running all over my body that made me both horny and… well, like I said, terrified. Could it be that I liked being exposed like that? Or at least the thought of risking it? Anyways, I licked the top of both his shoes for a few seconds. I heard him snort and decided that a few words of subservience were in order:

“Mmmm… thank you for letting me lick them, Sir… mmmm… they are so dirty, Sir, I love how they taste…” it wasn’t true but I was pretty sure he was gonna like that. And in fact:

“Hehehe! Fucking homo!”

Ok, so far so good. The kids at the basketball court were bound to see me in a few more seconds if they hadn’t already but I guess entertaining him was way more important. I don’t need to remind you what was at stake for me, right? A lifetime of slavery to Kieran. And it all depended on how happy I was gonna keep his buddies. And complaining or disobeying was definitely not an option.

“Let’s get inside.” he said with a kind of inflection that actually made me shiver. I don’t know, maybe it was just me. I was probably reading too much into it, but I was nervous around this kid.

“Yes Sir!”

We got in and I’m positive he noticed my nervousness. I was looking around the house and didn’t even have the time to realize what I was, very stupidly, doing wrong. He whacked me on the head without warning.

“Get on your fucking knees, queer!” he barked. Of course he was mad.

“I’m sorry Sir!” I moaned and immediately went down to kiss his shoes again. You know, as you do!

“Are you fucking retarded or something? I don’t EVER…” he hit me on the head again “…wanna see you stand when I’m around, got it?” he said aggressively.

“Yes Sir! I understand Master Jacob!” I figured calling him ‘master’ was probably gonna make him feel better. I heard him snicker, satisfied. And then he hit me a third time… just cause it was fun, I guess. I didn’t budge. I kept kissing his worn out sneakers quietly.

Without a word he sat himself on the leather couch that was in what I guess was their living room/kitchen/dining room and I crawled towards him. I was about to start kissing his sneakers again but he lifted one foot and simply sneered:

“Lick!” showing me his sole. I obviously obeyed him after a quick:

“Yes Sir!” and looked at his evil smirk as my tongue started cleaning all the shit he had lovingly collected for me in the last 24 hours. And yes, for once that was me being sarcastic!

He didn’t speak much. He simply watched me for a few seconds. In front of the couch, to my right, there was a very old and scruffy-looking coffee table full of dirty glasses that apparently nobody had felt like bringing to the kitchen sink. Guess their ‘slave-mother’ had been a little too busy for that. Man, that woman must have had it hard!

Then, out of the blue, as to bring me back to reality, he kicked my face hard. I whimpered a little and had a moment of hesitation but then remembered a lesson Kieran had taught me just a few days earlier and immediately went:

“Thank you, Sir!” I didn’t waste any more of his precious time and went back to licking his filthy sole. I could tell this surprised him a little even though he got over it so fast I might have just imagined it. He laughed loudly.

“Hahaha! Fucking cunt!” and he kicked me again. Harder. But I was ready. I took the hit like a good little faggot bitch, moaned, then thanked him again. His expression was so cocky now despite there still being a bit of wonder in those eyes, like he couldn’t entirely believe I was thanking him for being kicked in the face and for getting the chance of licking his sneakers clean. I guess it takes some getting used to, doesn’t it? Of course he was loving every fucking second of it! I was even older than him which I’m pretty sure must have been a very nice addition to all the reasons that were making that power trip so damn enjoyable. But there was something else I couldn’t help noticing. The anger. His kicks were angry. He hurt me. I know you’re gonna go ‘Duh! He was kicking your face!’ But it was more than that. He was pissed at… I don’t know, really. Me? The world? Who knows. All I knew was that he was… well, kinda taking it out on me.

“Ouch!” I moaned again at his fourth kick “Th… thank you, Sir… but please…” I stammered, a little worried, but he kicked my face again, so hard this time that I lost my balance and fell sideways on the floor.

And then all of a sudden I remember pain. Well, more pain. All I could feel were his kicks, hitting me all over. I sort of curled up to try and protect my vital spots… like my head, but it wasn’t as helpful as you might think. Have you ever been kicked by a crazy maniac? Well, let me tell you: not particularly pleasant.

“Take this! You fucking faggot! Take it! Take it! Die, you stupid mutherfucking homo!!”

He was on a roll. I don’t know. He had lost it. He was grunting more than speaking and his tone was so fucking aggressive and full of hate and disgust it was… well, unprecedented. He was blindingly, furiously bashing the shit out of me. My back, my stomach, my head, my shoulders, my legs. I thought I was done for (I know, not the first time that day) but can you honestly blame me? I started sobbing of course and pretty damn loudly which covered the tingling of the filthy glasses on the coffee table each time I involuntarily hit it with my back or my leg, in an attempt to protect myself as best I could. My heart was pounding in my chest, so hard it was about to explode. Then he planted his heel in the middle of my back which literally took my breath away, totally NOT in a good way! I moaned desperately, like a wounded animal and his answer was:

“Yeah! Fucking die, you cunt! Here! Take this! And this! AND THIS!!” his voice was raising and so was the ferocity of his kicks. Shit, he was so fucking cliché! He was acting exactly the way I was afraid he was gonna act. Hell, even Kieran was afraid of that! That’s why he had warned him not to break me. Well so much for that!

He got me good on my back again, even more viciously than before.

“Please, Sir!” I cried hopelessly.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking faggot!!” he grunted back and kept kicking me like a complete lunatic. I sobbed and moaned and cried, all curled up, a bundle of nerves, trying somehow to survive.

And then, as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped. My heart was still pounding like crazy and I could hear him breathing heavily, like you do after a long, good run. I didn’t dare remove my hand from my face and look up to see what was going on. I felt pain all over my body. I was still crying. Silently now though. Three, four seconds passed. Nothing happened. The only thing I could hear was his heavy breathing that was slowly calming down. Five, six, seven. Nothing. My head was throbbing. Eight, nine. And just when I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, it was ok to slightly lower my guard… well, that’s when he kicked me again. Just once though. On my face. Hard enough to make me sob like a fucking sissy. That made him laugh. Not like a normal laugh. It was weird. He started laughing like he couldn’t control himself. You know like when you’re all fucking ecstatic about something? Like you’re… what’s that word… exhilarated I guess. It was fucking surreal. He couldn’t stop cackling and giggling and snickering!

“Hahahahahaha!! Whooooooh! Hahahaha!”

He kept guffawing, trying to catch his breath.

“Hahahaha! Oh man! Hahahaha! That was sooooo much fun! Hahahaha!”

And with that he let himself fall back on the old couch. I was still there, petrified and hadn’t moved a single muscle. I felt his sneaker pressing on the hand I was using to protect my face but he wasn’t crushing me. It was just the weight of his leg.

“Hahahah!! Oh fuck! Hahaha!” He chuckled a couple of more times. Then he inhaled deeply and exhaled like you do when you wanna take in a particularly awesome moment.

“Yo! Did you die or something, fag?” he tapped on my hand with his foot a couple of times.

“N… no Sir… I… I’m here…” I sobbed, trembling. He enjoyed another good laugh. Then, and I have no idea how or why, my instincts took over for a moment. Not only did I remove my hand from my tear-stained face, but I turned on my back and I started licking his sole again. Like nothing had happened. Can you believe it? Man, I almost can’t, and I’m the one who did it! I even moaned blissfully a couple of times. I was still kinda crying but it was like I was on autopilot or something.

“What the fuck, bitch! You like licking my shoes that much? Hahaha!” he genuinely sounded a little surprised which is understandable. Now, to answer his question. Did I like it? Did I not? The hell if I knew! What I did know was that I totally wanted to do that for him. So I simply went with the truth.

“Yes Sir… it… it feels right when I do it… it’s so humiliating Sir… mmm…” yep… you guessed it. I was even hornier than before. My shorts could barely contain my dick. Save your breath, I know…

“Hahahaha! Sure is, you fucking queer freak!” he said super entertained. Then, like he wanted to give me a reality check or something, he added “And it’s totally fucking disgusting! You’re fucking licking a fucking shoe!”

I know, way to state the obvious but like I said, he had only seen me twice before and we had never been alone. And let’s face it, the shit I was doing, you don’t really see it any-fucking-where so I’m sure he had to have some questions like ‘why the fuck I was doing all that!’. Again, understandable. So I decided to give him a cliff note version of the first chapter of the book Kieran should have definitely written on fags and their use.

“Yes Sir! It is, I know it is! And that’s why I love doing it, Sir! Because I’m a stupid, inferior, faggot bitch, Sir! And… and the only reason fags exist in the first place is to make real men’s lives way easier and… and do anything you tell us to do! Anything Sir! Anything at all!” I recited quite passionately “I’m not gonna lie, Sir, sometimes it’s a little hard but… but… the only thing that really matters is you, Sir and your happiness, not ours! Never ours!” I mean the kid needed to be educated on the subject “So, if we have to humiliate ourselves even just for your entertainment, we are happy, Sir! Very happy! Because getting to serve you straight masters in any way, now that makes us feel… so good, Sir!” He was laughing his balls off again.

“Hahahaha! Oh fuck man, could you be any more of a loser! Hahaha! That’s just fucking awesome! Hahaha!!” Boy, was he cracking up. And I couldn’t get enough of his verbal abuse.

“Mmmm… Thank you so much Sir for letting me do this for you… mmmm…” I sounded hornier and hornier and my fag voice was back.

“Hahahaha! You’re fucking welcome, homo! Hahaha!” I don’t really know how to explain it but even though I had gone through all that before (the explaining I mean) now this time… well, it kinda felt even better than usual. Why, you ask? Well… I’m not entirely sure but I guess it was because this kid was younger than me. I know I mentioned this before and I know what I’m gonna say is pretty much a given but just humor me and let me address the matter properly, ok? When you’re in high school, age matters. It’s like a

status symbol. Plain and simple. Sophomores are simply better than Freshmen, Juniors are so much better than Sophomores and Seniors… well they pretty much own the school. That’s not true for everybody obviously because there’s the whole I’m-a-jock-so-I’m-better-than-you thing that kinda trumps the age thing but still… Anyone who’s ever gone through high school (at least here in the US) knows exactly what I’m talking about! Age matters. Period!

Now, I was gonna be a sophomore in like less than a month and ‘psycho boy’ there was gonna be a freshman in my own school. It goes without saying he should have respected me, even just a little. And that’s a very good reason why it felt so good for me to be abused and humiliated by him. It was such a huge turn on and it was also a new thing for me. All my other masters were my age or older so I still had to experience… that. And let me tell you, I did not dislike it one bit now that I was in the middle of things. Also, like I said, I’m pretty sure he got, and more importantly liked, this whole age thing just as much as I did.

Now let’s talk about the kicking. Did I like that? Of course not! Who would, right?! I hated being hurt and I hated feeling pain. Except I kinda didn’t. Not entirely anyways. My dick was so fucking hard. I know at this point that’s pretty much a given, but it was. And I was fairly sure that it was at least partly BECAUSE he had gone all Bruce Lee on me. If you think about it, it shouldn’t really have been much of a surprise considering what had gone down the day before and, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m referring to me cumming like a fountain while my ballsack was being used as a soccer ball by the four of them.

Whatever the case, my mouth had started to produce crazy amounts of spit and the sole of his cheap, filthy sneaker was starting to taste better and better with every passing second. I was on my back, on the floor, his left shoe resting on my lips and his other on my stomach. I was horny, like I mentioned, horny as fuck and I guess it’s fair to say that my already very poor judgment was… well, impaired to say the least. And that’s exactly when my instincts took over again. I know it’s gonna sound crazy but I distinctly remember doing what I did next even though, once again, I have no recollection whatsoever of me actually deciding to do it. Like I said, I know it makes no sense but I’m doing my best here, guys.

“Sir…”

“What?”

“Thank you also for kicking me, Sir…”

“Hehehe! Yeah, no problem! Hehe!” man, he was so butch.

“You… you said it felt good?” my heart was racing with anticipation. He snickered.

“Sure did, fag! Hehehe!” I gave him a stupid smile, like I was so proud of myself.

“Do you… do you think it would be… fun for you to…” I swallowed “… to… to crush my balls again… Sir? Like you did yesterday?”

I could have left things alone and simply stayed there and licked his sneaker. But no, of course I had to give him nasty ideas (like he needed help for Christ’s sake!) and make things worse for me. I know, please don’t comment. He gave me a shit eating grin. I can assure you it was beyond scary.

“Well duh!!” he said like it was obvious. My eyes were filling up with tears and I thought my heart was about to explode as my hands took his other foot and slowly but decisively guided it down to my crotch.

“Then please… s… sir…” I said now sobbing visibly “Please… kick my balls as… as much as you like…” and sobbed some more as I spread my thighs as wide as I could for him “…I wanna do my best to serve you Sir…” his foot was now resting on my junk “…and show you how… sob… how grateful I am that you chose to… sob… to use me Sir…” my hands went to the sneaker I was licking and he let me grab a hold of it and press it down on my face, like I was afraid he was gonna take it away from me “…instead of all the other… sob… faggots around that would kill to be in my place now…”

Overkill? Sure! But he liked it! He smiled even more evilly down at me and said:

“You’re a total nutcase, you know that? Hahaha! But, hey, crushing your balls is definitely way more fun than just kicking you so get ready sissy-boy! Hehehe!” he snickered, then added sadistically “I’m gonna fucking hurt you so bad, hahaha!!”

He pressed his right foot even harder on my face and my lips and tongue started to hurt. Then, as he lifted his left one to prepare his first kick and I was already starting to regret every word my mouth had just spoken, I couldn’t help noticing the expression of pure amusement and, like I said, sadistic pleasure he was proudly wearing on his young, childish face. And that, unfortunately, felt pretty fucking good.

———————————————-

I almost couldn’t feel my legs and my tongue was seriously hurting. He was using it to wipe that same shoe sole back and forth with a sick smirk.

“That was hilarious. Thanks faggot! Hehehe!” he said. He hadn’t kicked me that many times to tell you the truth. Ten, maybe twelve and the fact that I was wearing pants had maybe helped a little. But I had screamed my lungs out and cried like I was being skinned alive. He had shut me up good with his sneaker but I was fairly sure someone had to have at least heard something. The windows were open and all! Somehow, though, considering the ‘classy’ neighborhood we were in, I doubted it was gonna be a big deal. Yeah, yeah, I know! Classist, again! But c’mon, you’re all thinking it!

“Th… thank you for… for crushing my balls Sir…” I said very, very feebly. I felt nauseated. My face was a mess, plastered with spit, dirt from his sole and the tears I couldn’t have possibly held back. “…I… I don’t need my balls Sir… I’m just a faggot…” I went on, completely expressionless, like even the simple act of speaking was too much. He snickered and kicked one of my cheeks… ‘affectionately’ I would say, if that didn’t sound ridiculous and probably a little sick. But the thing is, that’s how I registered it. “…only men need balls, Sir…” I was quoting Kieran again, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Hahahaha! You got that right, bitch!” he said “Man, you’re way beyond pathetic! I don’t know if Kieran made you like this or if you were already fucked up to begin with and I couldn’t care less!” he continued boldly “But it sure is fucking rad to play with you, bitch! Hahahahaha!” he was enjoying himself immensely. I’m not even gonna mention how badly my lower half hurt but, trust me, it did. At this point I wasn’t even sure that everything was gonna go back to normal, to be honest. But my dick was still hard as you probably guessed. So at least we got one thing straight. I was a masochist. A real masochist. Pain got me hard. I think that was probably the moment I understood it for real and… well… accepted it, I guess.

“Hey, tell me all the things you do for him!” he said all of a sudden.

“Uhm… I… well… I do all his chores and… lick his feet and I… I drink his piss and…”

“You drink his fucking piss?!” he said in an amused disbelief. Could he have possibly missed some of the videos my loving Master had so kindly shared with his buddies?

“Uhm… yes, Sir! I… I do… all the time…” I answered and his eyes lit up.

“No fucking way! Get up here and show me! I wanna see you drink mine!” he said kinda childishly, like he didn’t believe me.

“Y… yes Sir…” He moved his foot away from my face and I tried, not without problems, to sit up. Now I felt the full extent of the damage his previous kicks had inflicted on my poor body. He grabbed one of the dirty glasses on the coffee table and stood up as I painfully got on my knees..

My face was exactly where it should have been, right in front of his crotch, when he pulled down the elastic band of his shorts and his dick came out. It was new. A new perfect, straight boy cock appeared in front of me and I couldn’t help feeling all giddy with lust and excitement when I saw it. Come on! It was a very big deal! If you think about it, I had only seen three dicks so far in my life (I mean live) and this was my fourth. Brand new dick, brand new smell, brand new taste. I mean, do I have to say more?

Want more details? Here we go: it was circumcised but a bit of foreskin was still partly covering his cockhead. All in all it was more or less the same size as mine. He didn’t have a lot of pubes but the ones he had were dark, like his hair. His balls were round and plump, not very low-hanging but they looked so full and they were covered by a very light layer of hairs. It was a beauty. No one could have denied it!

With an excited smile he started emptying his bladder in the glass which, I gotta be honest, I didn’t particularly like. You know my take on piss right? Can stomach it, don’t like it. But if I could choose I would’ve much rather drunk it directly from the tap, you know what I mean? That way I could’ve smelled his sweaty, clammy, musky crotch. Unfortunately it was not about me. When was it ever?

The liquid was dark yellow. Of course that meant a much, much stronger and bitter taste but luckily there wasn’t too much of it. Maybe two thirds of a glass. He gave me the glass, strangely without saying anything. He had this cocky smirk on his face and without any hesitation I said:

“Thank you, Sir!” and I simply proceeded to drink its content. All of it. Man, he sure loved that! He started laughing his balls off again, like he was 11 and someone had just said the word ‘vagina’! You know what I’m saying?

“Hahahaha!!! This is fucking crazy! Hahaha!!!” he snickered with his dick bobbing up and down and dropping a few piss drops all over the floor. My eyes couldn’t help following it. The cock I mean. It was totally mesmerizing. “Can’t believe you’re actually doing that!! Hahaha!” It was like I was starving and my food was right in front of me. I wanted to taste it so bad I almost didn’t notice the nauseating liquid I was gulping down like a pro. I finished drinking and, trying real hard not to vomit, I managed to say:

“That was… so good… Sir… thank you for your piss… S… Sir…” he could definitely tell that I was completely disgusted by it. I still couldn’t hide the expression on my face but I’m positive it’s what made him cackle louder than ever.

“Hahahaha!! You’re fucking welcome, piss-freak! Hahahaha!” man, could he possibly get any hotter and more arrogant! I couldn’t restrain myself anymore. I leaned forward and I started licking his cockhead. And I flew to heaven. I had just the time to get a whiff of his sweat and musk right before he hit me on the head.

“Hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing, bitch?” he was still half laughing and I realized I had acted without thinking. So…

“Ahmm… I’m sorry Sir… I… uhm… I saw there were still some piss drops left and I… uhm… I wanted to make sure you were clean, Sir…” I said. Not entirely the truth but he seemed to buy it. He cracked up again.

“Hahahahaha! That’s fucking hilarious! Hahaha!” he wasn’t really talking to me but like the rest of them straight boys he found my attitude and my words… well… funny, I guess. In an extremely disgusting, pathetic way of course, but still funny. I kinda smiled awkwardly and continued.

“Yes Sir, please, let me…” and I stuck my tongue out, leaned over and took his cockhead between my lips while he was still enjoying his laugh. And he had me. Man the taste of cock. No words can describe what I feel when a cock is in my mouth. Some of you may know what I’m talking about but not if you haven’t tried it.

“Hahaha! You’re such a hopeless queer! Hahahaha!” he taunted “You like my cock?” he asked totally amused and backed away a couple of inches and his now chubby dick slid off my very hungry mouth, leaving me yearning for so much more.

“Yes, Sir! It’s just so… so beautiful Sir!” I started and he mimicked my girlish voice and exaggerated my… well, my fagginess I guess you could call it.

“It’s so beauuuuutiful…” he mocked me cruelly “Hahaha!”

“Yes Sir… it… it is! And… and I wanna taste it so bad, Sir! I can’t help it!” I continued, this time, flaunting my faggy voice on purpose, for his sole entertainment. He laughed.

“Hahaha! Wait, wait, wait! You mean like sucking it? Like a real blowjob?” he said somewhere between amazed and excited. Man, hadn’t he paid attention to what his buddies had been telling him? Was this news to him?

“Y… yes Sir! Please! Let me suck your cock, please! I’ll make you feel so good, I swear! Please!” I must have sounded a little too eager to do it because his curiousness suddenly turned into cunningness and he looked at me with yet another evil grin.

“Well, I definitely wanna try that, no question about it…” he said almost pensively “but first…” he widened his smirk, if possible, making it scary again. Then he started laughing without finishing to voice his thought.

“Hahaha! Oh man, this is gonna be fun! Get your fucking ass over here!” He grabbed my hair and dragged me to the couch which was right in front of the TV. He sat down heavily and pulled his underwear and shorts down to his ankles. I got closer to the object of my desires and I was already anticipating that savage, musky taste that I was about to… But he stopped me. He grabbed my hair again and stopped my face no more than two inches from it.

“That’s close enough, bitch!” he said “How does it look?”

“It’s perfect, Sir! So perfect!” he snickered.

“Hehehe! Really? You think so?” he teased me moving it around, right in front of my face.

“Oh… yes Sir… it is…” I sounded almost in a trance “…and it smells so strong and nasty! It’s so masculine, Sir! You smell like a true, straight man!  O my god, I love it, Sir!” I wanted to suck it so damn much.

“Hahaha! Good!” he said totally entertained “Then you keep staring at it and smell it reeeeeeal good, ok?” he asked “Don’t you fucking dare try to touch it or lick it, got it?” I looked up desperately.

“But please Sir, I’ll…” he slapped me across the face, so hard that my ears rang and I snapped out of it alright.

“Shut the fuck up, your mutherfucking queer!” he was still laughing “Who’s the boss?” he asked and I immediately answered.

“You are, Sir! Forgive me!” I said bowing my face as low as I could and licked the top of his sneaker a couple of times. It simply felt natural at that point.

“Get over here!” he said pulling my hair up and repositioning my face even closer than before “You can’t look at anything else, you understand? You have to stare at my cock till your eyes go dry!”

“Yes Sir!” I answered.

“Good faggot! Hehehe!” man that was gonna be, hands down, one of the most difficult things I had ever had to do! “Now let’s see what’s on TV, shall we? Hehe!”

Ok. I thought I was gonna go mad. I kept staring at that perfect piece of meat, studying every vein, every nook and cranny the folds his skin made, his few chestnut pubes that he would scratch every few seconds while smirking down at me but not saying a word. He would move his dick around and scratch his balls two fucking inches from my face. He had gone limp again after getting a chubby when my lips had started to lick it. The smell was to die for! Yet another variety of musky, stale sweat and raging testosterone. And I smelled it and looked at it for what seemed like five hours. It was probably more like five minutes but you have no idea how hard it was not to be able to lick it. It was pure torture and he knew it. He knew it so damn well and I’m pretty sure he enjoyed it.

Then, while he was still scratching his balls, he took his cock in his hand and peeled back the foreskin that was partially covering his head.

“Get a little closer.” he said and I did, putting my nose half an inch from his humid, wet cockhead. “Sniff it!” he said and I inhaled deeply. The scent was even stronger there and it was mixed with urine.

“Oh Master Jacob! It smells so…mmmmmm…” I moaned blissfully “Sir… I love it… mmmm…” I said again in a feverish trance.

“Hehehe! Well, you wanna lick it?” he asked.

“Yes! Please!!!” I pleaded almost crying.

“Hehe! Go ahead then!” he said. The few words he had spoken to me were way more important than the mocking, cunning, mischievous tone he had just used so I dumbly smiled up at him and said with a ridiculous passion:

“Oh thank you Sir!” and lowered my head with my tongue out and finally got another taste of that incredible beauty. It was a very fleeting one though. He slapped me on the side of the head. He hit me hard and quite frankly I had no idea what I’d done wrong so I looked at him with utter confusion in my eyes. He had the biggest, smuggest smirk I had ever seen so far which is definitely saying something.

“I said you are not allowed to lick it! Just sniff it, bitch!” he taunted with that childish, impish tone of a kid who’s trying to be a smart ass to his elders. You know. Like he was challenging me or something and it was crazy hard for him not to laugh.

“Yes… sir… but then you said…” I tried.

“I said what?” his smirk was infuriating. To a normal person that is.

“You… you told me I could lick it…” I said dumb as ever.

“No I didn’t! You lying, faggot!” he replied now snickering openly, keeping up that same cocky attitude. I’m slow, you know that by now, so I didn’t exactly get the game he was playing right away.

“But…” I tried and he cut me off, still chuckling.

“Are you calling ME a liar, fag?” and this time I also detected a tad of danger in his boyish voice. I finally got it and decided to play along.

“No, Sir! Sorry I disobeyed you.”

“Hahahaha! Man, that’s fucking awesome!” Hahahaha!” he cracked up and enjoyed the moment for a few seconds. Then he sneered “Don’t worry faggot! Now go back to sniffing.” and I did, of course.

There was this sport commentator on TV talking about some big football match and I distinctly remember his annoying nasal voice ringing in my ears. Little Jacob let me be for about five or six seconds then he took his dick back in his hand and this time he started to wipe his cockhead directly on my lips, making mocking noises and snickering insolently. You think I was strong enough to resist? Wrong!

“I told you you can’t lick it, you stupid homo! Haha!” he said after slapping me again, this time harder..

“I’m so sorry, Sir! Thank you for hitting me, Sir!” I said immediately this time. And he went into another fit of cackles. He seemed to be enjoying himself very much which I found pretty childish to be honest, and I was only a year older than him. Of course that made him even more irresistible to me. I was drawn to this kid. I know I say it about everybody but… I don’t know. Somehow he felt… special. Anyways, enough with romanticism.

He kept this up for a while, hitting me harder and harder and snickering like there was no tomorrow. I would apologize for disobeying his first order by obeying the second and then thank him for the ‘just’ punishment. It was all well and good but there was a problem. My lust was building. My cock was literally about to explode in my pants. Yes, I know I’ve been saying this a lot but think about it! I hadn’t had a chance to cum that day. Not even once, and I had been mercilessly teased for hours by the hottest guys on the fucking planet (well, they were to me, anyways). And there was no way I was gonna jerk off right there and then! It wasn’t appropriate! The straight boys I was serving were definitely NOT interested in seeing me cum, so I was gonna endure it till I got home. But it was unbelievably hard! I was intoxicated by his strong smell and my mind was set on sucking that tasty piece of meat that was right fucking there, in front of me. I couldn’t think of anything else, really. It had become an overpowering obsession. Forbidden fruit or what not. Hell if I know. What I do know is that after the umpteenth ‘Sorry, Sir! Thank you for hitting me, Sir!’ I lost it. My body took over. I took his dick inside my mouth. I started to suck it and when he hit me again I did not let go.

“Stop it, fag!” he said but his usual cackling had dialed down just a bit. He sounded slightly surprised. I didn’t stop. I simply moaned with pleasure, quite boldly I might add, which surprised him even more. He hit me harder:

“Get off …. meee…” he tried to sound angry, he really did but his cock had become as hard as a fucking rock in like five seconds.

“Oh… oh… fuck…” he moaned in pleasure as he was squirming kinda awkwardly on that dirty, worn out couch. It was crystal clear that he had never felt anything like it before, which was perfectly normal. He was fourteen for god’s sake! On top of that I was determined to give him my all. And when I say my all, I mean my very all! Everything I had learned in the previous… what six weeks now… I was gonna use it all on him to make him feel super awesome. Every inch of that dick I was gonna clean, every drop of sweat and dirt I was gonna swallow while my tongue and throat were making that hole, the best ever. I was gonna use every single trick in the book to maximize his pleasure and make that experience fucking unforgettable.

“Ah… Oh man… Oh….” he moaned again, louder this time, with his eyes closed as I relentlessly sucked his boy dick. The taste was absolutely awesome. Yeah, shocking, huh? But it was! So, after a minute or so, I finally decided to take it all down my throat. I plunged deep, till my nose was buried in his crotch and smelled him like I was snorting cocaine or something. It pretty much had the same effect on me so it might as well have been. Then went up for a second while my fingers delicately massaged his balls. I was so looking forward to licking those perfect family jewels in a while.

“Ah… ahhh…” His face was painted with pure pleasure. His moans were so loud and high pitched and incredibly cute. I was so proud of myself and ever so ready to show him my every technique, so I went down on him again. I was gonna use my tongue to stimulate…

“Aaaahhhh! Fuuuuck!!!” but he started shooting rope after rope of hot, sticky, tasty cum. I hadn’t seen that coming, I’m not gonna lie. I mean eventually, sure, but not just yet! He had lasted maybe 2 minutes. No, it had probably been less than that. I looked up and saw him squirm in wild, blissful ecstasy while I was swallowing his babymakers. Again, he looked absolutely cute. Can’t find a better adjective.

I watched him try to catch his breath, then slowly open his eyes and lowered his gaze. He was happy, there was no denying it. The glow that handsome boyish face of his radiated was unmistakable. It was just for a second though. Then his happiness turned into something that looked a lot like embarrassment, then fear, then rage. Once again he grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked it hard. His dick popped out of my mouth and my heart started racing. I winced in pain.

“If you tell anyone… about… this…” he growled to me while gritting his teeth so hard his words sounded strange. We both knew exactly what he was talking about of course and he was afraid I was gonna make him look bad in front of his bros by telling them exactly how much of a quick shot he had been. Sure, he was putting up a brave/murderous face and his tone was terrifying but I could tell he was the one being terrified. And I guess he was reacting the only way life had taught him to, by getting all aggressive and threatening to erase me from the face of the Earth or whatever. But you see, he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only was I not gonna rat him out. The second he had fed me his cum (which by the way tasted fucking awesome) I was his loyal slave and my fucked up fag brain had decided I was gonna do anything I possibly could to help him out.

“Tell anyone about what, Sir?” I said, cutting him off mid sentence and leaving him a little puzzled “That you are a true man and that I’m a stupid faggot?” I continued “That you have a perfect dick and that you use it like a true sex god?” bit of a stretch, I’ll grant you that, but sure! Why the hell not? He still looked a bit bewildered but I wasn’t gonna let him reply, not yet. There was something I needed to say.

“Sir, do you really think the other masters lasted longer than you the first time they got a blowjob?” I figured it was better to face the elephant in the room head on and cover it up with a huge enough lie. What else was I supposed to do? “They all had the same reaction you did, Sir! It is absolutely normal!” I went on with a reassuring tone that, strangely enough, in that particular moment was appropriate. His face seemed to relax slightly but not the grip he had on my hair. I pressed on “I think I have given over 200 blowjobs since I first came out to Master Kieran, and let me tell you this…” my heart was still beating fast, partly because of the heartfelt pretty speech I was giving but mostly because I had no idea what was gonna happen the second I was gonna shut up. How was he gonna react? Quite frankly, at this point I could see him cry his eyes out or pulverize me, none of which were comfortable scenarios but you know, with that kid all bets were off. Anyways. What I said to him was: “You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Sir! You are a god, Sir! And your dick…” my eyes went down to contemplate the tasty piece of meat in front of me “…well, like I said before, it’s perfect Sir! It’s just so perfect… so beautiful…” damn, I sounded so faggy it was almost revolting, you can’t even begin to imagine! Then I looked into his greenish eyes again. The rage had disappeared and a much more appropriate amused little smirk was finding its way back to his cute, childish face “I am so happy that I get to be your slave, Sir. You have no idea how happy that makes me, Sir!” he snickered to that “And I wanna help you, Sir! Please, use me as much as you can, please! I beg you!” I pleaded “You know what they say… practice makes perfect!” I really wanted him to relax, to see things my way and I also wanted to cheer him up. He snickered again and this time he finally let go of my hair.

“Are you telling me the truth?” he asked all of a sudden “All the others were… well…” he hesitated “…like me?” he was genuinely asking. I was walking on thin ice now. I hung my head down.

“Yes Sir…” I told him “It happens the first few times… but…” I tried to sound convincingly regretful “…but they made me promise I wouldn’t say anything… Sir…” hell if I know why the hell I was making all that shit up. I mean, I had to, I didn’t wanna be skinned alive but still… I looked up at him and he definitely seemed relieved. For a moment, then he frowned.

“But you told me…” he said sharply. I looked troubled.

“Yes Sir… I’m sorry… but… I only did it because I didn’t want you to feel bad…” that was the first bit of truth in all that cock-and-bull story. He bought it though. I heard him snicker.

“If you told me about them, how do I know you’re not gonna do the same with me?” sharp fucking kid! I looked up again.

“No Sir! I won’t do that. Not even with Master Kieran!” I said super convincingly. He raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“Because… because…” I stammered. What the hell was I gonna say now? “I… I…” he slapped me.

“Speak up, faggot!” he said half amused, half expectant and I decide to go with… well another bit of truth.

“Because you’re special, Sir…” he didn’t expect that. He frowned again, slightly and said.

“What? Why?”

“You see, Sir… you’re younger than me…” I said and paused. He shrugged.

“Yeah, so?” he asked.

“I love humiliation, Sir… at this point it’s the only reason I wake up in the morning…” a little over dramatic maybe but not that far from reality “…and being humiliated by someone who’s younger than me is even more humiliating, you see… which…” he was listening very intently with raised eyebrows “…which makes me completely loyal to you, Sir.” it was a simple enough explanation and… well, like I said, it was kinda true. He hadn’t bought that though. Not this time. He had a suspicious look on his face and of course he grabbed my hair again. Guess he liked that.

“Are you fucking with me you sissy queer?!” he grunted.

“No, Sir, I swear!” I said “Please! Let me… let me prove it to you!” I continued desperately.

“How?” he asked.

“I’ll… I’ll do whatever you want, Sir, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll… even talk you up with your friends, Sir! I will, I promise!” I cried. Now that caught his attention alright. His smirked again.

“What?” he said.

“Yes Sir! I will lie for you, Sir! I’ll say whatever you want me to say!” he thought about that for a good four or five seconds with an amuse expression. Then he finally said.

“Are you really gonna do that?” again it was a genuine question that needed an obvious answer.

“Of course I will, Sir! Like I said I’ll do whatever you want!” I pleaded, trying to show him how much I wanted to help him and how sincere I was being.

“Mmmm…” he sneered but let go of my hair “Know what? I like that, fag.” he said looking so damn smug and self satisfied all of a sudden. “You WILL fucking do that for me and you gotta make sure they all believe you! You hear me?!” he said bossy as hell.

“Yes Sir! Absolutely! I will, Sir!” I answered, beaming up to him “Thank you very much, Sir!!” I went on emotionally, half laughing, half crying and plunged down to lick his sweaty crotch.

“Hehehehe! Fucking queer! Hehehe!” he slapped my head chuckling “Go ahead! Lick that shit as much as you want!” I almost purred. It totally felt like a reward or something.

“Oh thank you, Sir! Thank you so much!” I said happy as fuck “You’ll see, Sir! I won’t disappoint you!” I said to him.

“You better not, fag! Hehehe!” I just couldn’t stop blabbering.

“I’ll… I’ll become an even better cocksucker, Sir! I’ll make you feel incredible, Sir, I swear!” it was an easy enough promise to keep “I’ll learn to worship you and your cock just the way you want me, Sir! I promise!” I know, I know, but I was caught in the moment “You are my god, Sir! You really are!” I said, in that same feverish trance.

“Hahaha! Oh man, this is the best fucking day ever!” he cackled “I got a new punching bag that begs me to beat the shit outta him…” he started recapping “…a cocksucker who says he’ll do ANYTHING to make me feel… what was that? Incredible? Hehe!” It wasn’t a real question obviously so I moaned, happily and kept on licking his plump, round balls “…and a slave who says I’m his… hahaha… his god!” he couldn’t control the sneering “And he will make me look awesome in front of my friends…” he continued so perfectly cocky and arrogant “…and it’s all you! Hahaha! One super lucky faggot! Hahahaha!”

“Yessshh sssir…” I said with my tongue out “…I’m ssssooo lucky….” that made him laugh even harder.

“Hahahaha! Yeah, you are, bitch!” he commented then “Now don’t stop! Keep fucking telling me how great I am! C’mon! Hahaha!” he said. I looked up and saw he was flaunting his ever present smug smirk on his wickedly perfect face. Man I loved him so much.

I ended up staying on my knees for a good fifteen minutes more. I didn’t know if my tongue hurt more from the actual licking or from all the metaphorical ‘ass licking’ I was doing. I didn’t even know I knew that many ways of saying how great and awesome and godly a person could be. Then, little by little, his dick got hard again and he let me suck him again. This time he lasted a little longer which only helped to boost his already overconfident ego. Man, his cum was so good to swallow! Then, after slapping me around a little more, he told me to go. I smiled gratefully and said:

“Thank you so much, Sir! For everything!” and I lowered my face to lick his sneakers again “Thank you, Sir! Thanks for your kindness! Thank you so much!” I went on like I was humming a song “Thank you, Master!”

“Alright, I get it! Knock it off you fucking queer! Hehehe!” he said, very amused “I told you to get the fuck out, didn’t I?” he asked then but he wasn’t angry. I dare say, he even sounded remotely friendly. Ok, that’s  definitely pushing it but you know what I mean.

“Yes, Sir, I’m sorry Sir!” I said stopping my work and crawling away from him.

I’ll be honest with you. As I closed the front door behind me the strongest emotion I felt was an overwhelming sense of relief. I mean Satan’s spawn hadn’t been so bad after all. I mean sure, the beating had been bad. But as much as it had hurt we’ve established that I had also liked it, so…

“Yo, guys! It’s him!” I looked up while I was getting my bike. Four kids were walking towards me. One of them had a basketball in his hand. They were the kids from before. What the hell did they want? Had they seen us?

The bossy, obnoxious one was speaking. “Hey, man! We saw you on your knees, licking Cooper’s shoes before!” They snickered as they were getting near me. Shit!

The geeky kid called Ken Thompson now seemed embarrassed.

And then all of a sudden it hit me! Jacob had mentioned this guy the first time I met him that day in the park as the guy he had forced to kiss his sneakers in the locker rooms. Yeah, that wasn’t gonna help me though.

“Uhmmm… I… uhmmm…” total panic. The awful scenarios that were gonna open up had I told them the truth were countless, all of which I was definitely NOT ready for.

“What the hell was that about?!” one of them pressed on.

“W… well… I…” I stammered as they were looking at me “I… uhmmm…” that was it. Think Finn, think! But nothing came to my mind.

“He lost a bet!” My head turned so quickly, I almost hurt my neck. Jacob’s head and torso were popping out of the window near the door.

“Hey, Cooper, what’s going on?” asked the same kid. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

“Nothing much…” Jacob shrugged.

“Stop the bullshit. We saw you make this loser here lick your shoes earlier…” the kid pressed then smirked widely towards Thompson “…just like you made Kenny do last year.”

Ken looked down and shuffled his feet. Embarrassed as I was for myself (and I was), I kinda felt even worse for him.

“Hahaha! That’s right I did, didn’t I? Hahaha!” Jacob laughed and the two other kids had an incredulous look on their faces. One of them went:

“Did you really make him do that?” He asked, totally grossed out. Jacob nodded, ever so smugly and the leader of that little posse said:

“Of course! I told you! You thought I was lying?” Then he turned to Ken “Come on, Kenny. Tell ‘em!” It wasn’t a suggestion.

“It’s true.” The geeky kid was totally looking down at his feet, apparently unable to face any of us. The boys made disgusted expressions and Jacob added cruelly:

“You’re welcome Kenny! Hahaha!” He sneered and everybody joined in the laughter. I had the impression that calling the boy ‘Kenny’ was a way to belittle him. I guess it was the way they were saying it. He kept his eyes on the ground but didn’t speak. He was used to that, I could tell somehow. Just as I could tell that he hated every second of it. Tsk! Amateur!

“Seriously man…” that same obnoxious, younger kid went on “So what is he? Your bitch?” He pointed at me, snickering. My heart was pounding again. Jacob smirked slightly, looking at me and for a second I definitely thought ‘Here we go. I’m totally screwed.’ But to my surprise he went:

“Nah! Nothing like that, bro!” He snorted like the idea was ridiculous “He’s a buddy of mine and like I said, he lost a bet!” He continued with a very convincing tone “He said he could do more push-ups than me in a row.” He flexed his biceps in a goofy way and went: “He lost! Hehehe!” and everybody laughed with him. This time, I did too. Partly because I kinda had to play along, partly because he really was funny.

“And you made him lick your shoes?” One of the kids said still cringing visibly.

“Yep!” Was Jacob’s super smug answer.

“Man, that is so fucking gross! Hahahaha!”

“I know, right?!” Jacob said, then he looked at me with an expression he had never used before. This time he was flat out friendly. “I think he liked it too, right bro?” he said to me but, again, there was no traceable malice there, which, for a change, gave me the strength to bravely answer:

“Shut up, man!” and everybody laughed again. Well, everybody except for Ken. Even the obnoxious kid seemed satisfied. Guess my answer had sealed the deal. But I looked around in complete wonder. They were laughing, but it was different from the laughing I was used to. I mean I knew it was totally fake but it kinda felt like I was part of the laughing, you know what I mean? Not the laughing stock. And it kinda felt nice… though weird.

“Uhmmm… I gotta go, Si… uhmmm man!” I almost blew it there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” Jacob smirked again a little but simply answered.

“Sure! Later, bro!” and I rode away.

“Are you sure he’s your buddy?” I heard the younger kid’s voice. Damn had I screw up again?

“Yeah man, he’s alright, let him be…” Jacob said decisively behind my back “…but hey! Since we got Kenny-boy here, what do you say we let him have another go at my sneakers? Bet he’s been dying to do that ever since last time!” He added and I started pedaling as fast as I could. I didn’t wanna be part of that but most of all I didn’t wanna give any of them the chance to change their mind. I only had time to hear the excitement in the boys’ “Yeah!!” and the despair in Ken Thompson’s “No please guys! Anything but that, please!” I did feel sorry for him but I kinda figured I was doing him a solid. He was a little bitch and it was important for him to learn his place, right? Yeah, I was totally helping him out.

Now back to the important stuff. What the hell had just happened? I mean, call me crazy but had he actually helped me out? He had, hadn’t he? He had! He totally had, no question about it! Jacob Cooper had helped me! Satan’s kid! But why? I mean it was one thing to think he was not as bad as I thought he was gonna be but… now this was unexpected and a little overwhelming. I actually had to think back to before my coming out to Kieran, to a time where I had… uhm… what’s the word? Right! Friends! Or at least one friend! Someone I had pegged for a psychopath had just done me a favor. I mean a real favor, not like… I dunno, letting me lick his sweaty feet or something. A real favor! Of course Topher had been super nice to me time and time again, sure! But Jason… well… he was not Topher! He was supposed to be evil. Not that he wasn’t, he obviously was but… I don’t know… I’m sorry I’m totally rambling here but I was completely baffled by what had just happened. He could have exposed me to those kids. But he hadn’t. Was it to make sure I didn’t tell Kieran and the others about his ‘performance’? But he didn’t have to do that. Was he aware of that? I would have kept my word even if he had told those kids every single thing that had happened in the previous hour. Not that I was gonna complain, mind you, but still. I sighed. Well, I wasn’t gonna figured it out right there and then. It was probably better not to read too much into it though. Time was gonna tell.

I checked my phone. No texts. No calls. It was 5:46. I had done it. I was pretty exhausted but I had survived my first day as a slave for the entire group. I had skipped Kieran which was a big bummer, sure! But I had survived my first day. I only then realized how bad my whole body hurt. My back, shoulders, my stomach. And my balls. Man they fucking hurt so damn much. But all in all I was happy. It had been a good day. A really good day. I couldn’t wait to get home and jerk off till my dick fell off thinking back on all of my masters. Were all my days gonna be like that from now on? That exciting? It sure didn’t seem like a bad way to live, quite frankly. And to think that all I had done was to tell my best buddy I was gay. I smiled to myself. I could do that. I could do anything they wanted me to do because it made me feel so much joy. I was sure of that as sure as you can be of anything. And as a nice afternoon breeze was messing up my hair, I kept riding home. So damn happy.

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Naughty Bard

Naughty Bard

Naughty Bard is obviously a pseudonym. Somehow I feel way freer writing the stuff I write about and knowing that my identity is safe. What I can tell you about myself is that I am Italian born, brought up in the States and currently live in Italy. I have a degree in foreign languages and literatures and a master in linguistics. I have always loved reading, since I was a little kid and I later discovered that well written sex stories are incredibly arousing to me. So I started writing my own, filling them with all the kinks I love. What I write about is mostly fantasy, even though sometimes I use fragments of my own experiences.
Naughty Bard

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