Date: Tue, 18 Dec 2012 18:39:58 -0800 From: Benjamin Gaw <benjamingaw05@gmail.com> Subject: Berkeley Slave You're about to read my first story on Nifty. Please email me at benjamingaw05@gmail.com if you like what you see. I know a lot of you like to read that old cliche of a story: gay kid goes to college, meets his straight jock roommate, gets caught admiring him, and is somehow forced to be his cock slave. This isn't that story. It starts similarly enough, though. It's unrealistic to think that a straight dude is going to make another guy his sex toy, even if it does make a hot story. My story is mostly true. I've changed names to protect the guilty and embellished on a few details I had just started school at UC Berkeley in 2001. It was Welcome Week in the dorms- a time for all the incoming freshmen to get moved in and acquainted before classes started. I was pretty stoked to get to Berkeley- the premiere public university in the US. I worked hard to get there. I didn't have the benefit of expensive tutors or privately funded education, so it had been up to me to study my ass off. I was attending school on financial aid. I didn't have a lot of extra money in my budget and Berkeley is an expensive place to live. I chose to live in the overcrowded high rise dorms known as the Units to save a few bucks. They weren't as nice, spacious, or luxurious as the Clark Kerr Campus or Foothill dorms. At least I'd been assigned a double room instead of a triple. I hadn't met my roommate yet. The university had mailed me a letter with the name and phone number of my roommate. His name was Aaron Martin and he was from San Diego. In the days before Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, and even Friendster, it was tough to know much about this guy. We'd talked on the phone a couple times and coordinated who would bring a mini fridge, microwave, hot pot, TV and landline phone. He offered to bring the TV, fridge, and microwave. I was going to bring the landline phone and a hot pot. I knew from our talks that he was pretty into sports and wrestled for his high school team in San Diego. Not knowing how he might react, I decided not to out myself to him right off. Our home for the next 9 months was in Unit 3 at Spens-Black Hall. Those familiar with Berkeley will know that Unit 3 is near campus on Durant and Telegraph, steps from dozens of headshops, pizzerias, bars, record stores, and a few sex shops. Our room was located on the top floor of the high rise, 9 floors above the ground. From our window we could look down to a small courtyard with a volleyball court and over a parking structure next door. Across courtyard from Spens-Black was another building, Priestly Hall. We had a clear view into any rooms with the curtains open. Peep shows like those passed for entertainment in the days before Facebook! Live reality TV! The rooms in the Units are small, about 12 feet square with two desks, two twin beds, two closets, and two dressers. My dad helped me unload my few bags as my mom made my bed. Cal has long had co-ed dorms where women and men share floors or even suites. Room assignments are, of course, single sex, but the bathrooms were unisex. My parents and I looked around the dorm to find the vending machines, dining commons, laundry room, study lounge, computing center, and rec room. When we visited the bathroom, Mom made some kind of suitably horrified comment about the girls and boys sharing a bathroom and showers. I showed her that each of the shower stalls had a curtain between the shower and a small dressing area, and were secured by a locking door. The showers were very private and there would be very little reason to walk down the hall without clothes. We said our goodbyes and my folks left. Aaron's parents followed suit but not before handing him a couple of hundred dollar bills. Aaron had longish brown hair, stood about 6'2", and was made of muscle. He wore a pair of worn out cargo shorts and an obviously brand new Cal hoodie that his parents must have bought him earlier. A new sweater AND $200? My parents didn't even buy me a slice of pizza for lunch before they left! I started to work on unpacking and setting up my desktop computer. Aaron had a brand new macbook sitting on his desk. As I started putting my computer together, Aaron peeled off his hoodie and laid on top of his bed and turned the TV on. I couldn't help but to drool over his furry chest and chiseled abs as he watched a baseball game. The man was incredibly hot! While the game was on, we made small talk about our prospective majors, the classes we planned to take, and our various likes and dislikes. He hated neat freaks and loved sports and working out. I admitted that I'm not the neatest person but love when somebody else is willing to do the cleaning. After the obligatory meeting to meet the resident advisors, security coordinator, and other dorm staff, Aaron asked if I wanted to check out the RSF. The Recreational Sports Facility, RSF for short, is the on-campus gym. Students pay a small optional fee each semester for unlimited use of the facility. Students on financial aid get free membership. We packed out gym bags and headed down. We visited the locker room and dressed out. I put on my sweat shorts and and t-shirt over my boxers. Aaron stripped completely and slipped on a pair of briefs, basketball shorts, and a tank top. He had his back to me so I hadn't yet gotten a glimpse of his dick or balls, but did see that his ass was as furry as his chest. We both got our workouts in, cardio for me and weights for him, then headed back to the dorms to shower and change. We decided to hit up a couple of house parties near frat row that night. Both of us opted for t-shirts and jeans and walked up the hill toward Channing Circle. The guys at the parties tried their best to recruit us. Many of the guys were awkward, slightly drunk, and a little pushy. It felt less like they were trying to recruit us to join their house and more like they were awkwardly asking me out on a date. I politely took their rush calendars and pocketed them. I drank a couple of cups of beer and, being an 18 year old who had not partied much in high school, got a buzz going almost immediately. I found a room with a couple of dudes, 3 girls, and a hookah and hung out with them most of the night. The guys were members of the house and I made an instant bond with them and their friends. I'd lost Aaron somewhere along the way but was sure he would be able to fend for himself. When I got back to the room, I found him passed out on top of his bed wearing nothing but a bath towel. I was horny and drunk and had the perfect opportunity to see what Aaron was packing down below. He was passed out and wouldn't notice me peeking. Hell, if I removed the towel without waking him, he'd probably think he passed out that way. I carefully lifted the towel from his body and uncovered a beautiful uncut dick in a nest of dark curly hair. He had a perfect tanline at his waist. Even more horny and feeling bolder, I pulled his foreskin back to see his cock head. He started to get hard in my hand! Suddenly scared that he would wake up and find me playing with his dick, I withdrew and quickly got into bed. I wanted to jerk off watching him but decided to wait until my morning shower. The next morning, I awoke to the terrible sound of Aaron doubled over and throwing up into our wastebasket. He was still completely naked and the towel was left on the bed. I offered to fill the Brita pitcher with water and bring it back for him, which he accepted before getting back into his bed to try sleeping off his hangover. That evening was a repeat of the previous night: after hitting the gym, Aaron and I hit a couple parties. I wasn't feeling it as much as I had the previous night so I went home early. Aaron got wasted came home later bragging about getting some hot chick's number stripped down to his boxers and passed out in bed. I sat at my computer and surfed the internet. I was mostly looking for porn, but was also trying to find where the gay guys on campus met up. There was a party at Oscar Wilde House (Berkeley's LGBT co-op) the next night. I decided to check it out. Still horned up, I looked over at my roommate's bed and realized there was a big wet spot soaking his blankets. Aaron had gotten so drunk that he pissed the bed. The next morning, Aaron nursed his hangover before the two of us visited the campus bookstore. I didn't want to embarrass him by mentioning that I knew he'd wet his bed. I pretended not to notice when he'd stripped the bed and changed his sheets after having slept only two nights in them. This night, Aaron followed the same routine: gym, frat party, and home. I joined him at the gym and hit the frat party but quickly ducked out and visited Oscar Wilde. I still wasn't sure how gay friendly Aaron was. By this point, I knew he was decidedly straight. The way he talked, it seemed he was pretty conservative. I met a really hot chem major that night and went back to his room. We sat and talked most of the night over red cups of two-buck chuck. We made out a little and shared his bed. I snuck out in the early morning and headed home. I got home and found Aaron and some chick sharing his bed. I climbed into my own and fell asleep. In what seemed like only minutes after I'd nodded off, I was awakened by sex sounds from the other side of the room. Aaron, still apparently drunk was fucking the chick in his bed. Here was this beast of a man - a mountain of muscle with tanned skin and fur - pounding a fat chick. Really fat. His beer goggles must have been heavy last night! I pretended not to notice, rolled over, and tried to sleep. "You sick pervert!" the girl screamed, "I can't believe you! Trying to make love in front of an audience! You said your roommate was gone!" I didn't think a fat girl could move so fast! She had her clothes on and was gone in an instant. "You fucking faggot! Why the fuck?!" Aaron started. He was obviously still drunk and unable to string together a coherent sentence. But the point was clear. He decided it was my fault his girl left. "Whoa man! Calm it down, dude! There was no sock on the door when I let myself in! And don't you ever call me a faggot again, got it?! I might fuck guys but that's a hell of a lot better than fucking the cow you had in here!" I'd gotten angry and outed myself. Shit! "She was hotter last night. And beside I want you out of here. No way I'm sharing a room with a faggot." Aaron mumbled. I'd hit him where it hurt. "You drunk son of a bitch! I'm not moving! If you call me faggot one more time..." "And what, faggot? You're gonna hit me? I'll punch you in the neck then throw you out the window!" "You're just mad that I got ass last night and you fucked a cow. It's a wonder your drunk ass could get it up for her." "She was hotter last night." Aaron was mumbling. Direct hit. I'd gotten him where it hurt. "Where did you find her anyway? Was there a dairy on the way home from the party? Moo!" I was still pissed but lightened the mood. I'd get him back and was sure he'd regret ever calling me a fag. "I'm so fucking hung over. Where'd you go last night? I was looking for you and wound up at Sigma Nu. I don't know what happened after that." "I met up with a dude and went back to his place. You need to cut back on the drinking, man. Seriously. Three hangovers in a row. Throwing up, pissing your bed, and now drunk sex with a fat chick? Get it together!" "You really are gay, huh? Sorry about calling you a faggot. I've just never been around a gay before. I'm not sure its gonna work out sharing a room and all." "Dude, don't worry. I don't wanna fuck your drunk ass." I was lying. I just didn't want to fuck his ass when he was drunk. The conversation awkwardly trailed off as Aaron got out of bed, doing his best not to expose his naked body he took the towel hanging from the corner of his bed and wrapped it around himself and grabbed the pile of clothes sitting next to his bed and walked out the door, presumably to the bathroom to shit, shower, and shave. Or at least wash the stink off him. While he was gone, I snooped through Aaron's drawers and closet. I'd decided to teach him a lesson in humility and sobriety.