Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2006 01:15:04 -0700 (PDT)
From: greg_alexander222@yahoo.com
Subject: Frat Boy's Bitch Boy - Part 3

The following is an original work of fiction that
contains graphic
depictions of sexual activity between males.  All
characters are portrayed as being over 18 years of
age, as you must be to read this.  If you aren't,or if
such material is offensive to you or illegal to read
where you are, then stop reading.

All rights are reserved by the author.  Please
download for personal use only.

Previously on Frat Boy's Bitch Boy:

I was beside myself with horniness.  I had spent most
of the day locked in a trunk, then tied up naked, then
put on a leash and made to reorganize the furniture in
the room to Trevor's liking, then chained to his chair
made to serve as his foot stool for hours and lick his
feet clean, then as punishment for being a bad foot
stool been ordered to do pushups, then as punishment
for THAT been tied spread eagle into this fiendishly
uncomfortable position at the foot of Trevor's newly
expanded bed and been paddled until my ass was raw
with pain and I had groveled for mercy, and then
finally sucked Trevor off to orgasm, and now had a
face full of cum.  Through it all, I had been almost
fully erect, and an ever growing load had been
building up in my balls.  Now it was begging to be
released.  My ass still smarted horribly, and my whole
body was sore from having been tied down in this
position -- my balls in particular, with the leash
connected to my neck still wrapped tightly around
them, were killing me.  But worse than all of that was
my desperation to stroke my aching cock, and my
totally inability to do so.

"Lick my feet clean, bitch," Trevor whispered.  "Lick
my cum from my feet, and don't even think about
stopping until you've swallowed every last drop."

I did.  As he rubbed his feet all over my face,
mashing them around until the soles of his feet were
wet with milky, sticky cum, my overworked tongue
lapped his feet like a dog, swallowing the warm sticky
goo drop by drop.  It only made me more desperate to
stroke my own cock -- so desperate to stroke it that I
could hardly see straight.

"Mmmmm, that's right," Trevor murmured, rolling over
happily in his bed but continuing to press his feet up
against my face.  "Keep licking my cum-coated feet
until it's all gone.  Sweeeet.  I'll seeya in the
morning, boy.  Sleep tight."

Chapter 3

Unsurprisingly, I didn't sleep well that night.

For one thing, since I had now been tied in a spread
eagle position, my hands bound behind my back and my
torso pressed down onto the coffee table because the
dog collar around my neck was connected by a tight
leash to my balls underneath the table, it's small
wonder that I wasn't very comfortable.  Just try
leaning all the way forward, with your ass sticking
out in the air and your legs tied apart in a spread
eagle position.  It hurts like hell -- all your calf
muscles are burning with pain and your lower back
kills.  Then imagine the pain of having a taut rope
looped securely around your balls, which is pulled on
whenever you try to raise your head.  Then imagine
sleeping that way.

What was worse, my ass was still on fire from the 64
plus fierce, all out spankings Trevor had sadistically
delivered to me with his paddle before climbing into
bed.

But most urgently, I desperately needed to cum, and my
inability to do so -- to even so much as stroke my cock
-- was preventing me from sleeping a wink.

Trevor, on the other hand, slept like a log, as was
evident from the sound of his heavy breathing
throughout the night.  Of course, all I could really
see throughout the entire night were the massive soles
of Trevor's feet, which dominated my field of vision --
they still had a strong manly smell, which in any
event I couldn't get away from, as my face was
completely immobilized.  The smell of his feet only
served to make me hornier than ever.

As the night began to fade away and a pale light began
to shine through the dorm window, I waited impatiently
for Trevor to wake up.  There was a clock on the
nightstand next to his bed, but in my immobilized
position I couldn't crane my neck far enough to see
it.  I wondered what time it was.  By now it was fully
light out -- surely past 7:30 by now?  Yet still,
Trevor slept.  Then I remembered, suddenly, with a
sinking feeling in my stomach, that it was Friday.
Fuck.  Trevor usually got up early for Tennis or Crew
practice, but I guess on Fridays practice wasn't until
the afternoon, and Trevor didn't have any Friday
classes, so he slept in late.  I silently cursed my
luck.

Thinking about classes reminded me that I had one at
11:30.  Even if Trevor woke up in time, would he let
me go?

I also suddenly realized something: I hadn't eaten
since lunch yesterday, and I was starving.  I was
very, very thirsty, and on top of all that, I had to
pee -- something else I had not done since the start of
my captivity yesterday afternoon.   Gradually, the
urgent need to eat, drink and piss overwhelmed even my
desperate need to cum -- I was beginning to worry that
I wouldn't be able to hold it, and would have to piss
on the dorm room floor.  I had a bad feeling Trevor
would punish me severely for doing that.  I gritted my
teeth and held it in.

As the minutes ticked by with unbearable slowness, I
began to wonder if maybe I should try to wake Trevor
up.  The only comfort of my situation at the moment
was that I was ungagged -- I could try to rouse him.
Maybe by licking his feet?  Again, it seemed to risky
-- I thought that waking Trevor up was just asking for
punishment, no matter how submissively I did it.

I was tempted to try to escape.  Maybe if I started
screaming as loud as I possibly could, someone would
hear and come to my rescue?  Of course, I couldn't
deny that my cock was loving every minute of this --
for the entire time I'd been tied up, at the total
mercy of my big jock frat boy roommate, I'd been more
turned on and harder than I could ever remember being.
 But for God's sake -- I had to get out of here at some
point! I had to eat, drink, pee and cum!  I had to go
to class!

I decided that screaming would be suicidal.  No one
would come in time.  Trevor would punish me terribly,
I was sure.  Who knew what he might try?  Paddle me
another 20 times?  Or 64?  Or another 84?  I
shuddered.  Or he could do worse.  I was totally at
his mercy.  I just shut my eyes and tried to pass the
time.

I could hear people moving back and forth in the
hallway outside our dorm now -- doors opening and
shutting, people laughing -- but still Trevor slept.
Finally, with the sun high in the sky, I heard him
stir at last.  His feet shifted back and forth and his
toes curled up and down as he yawned, stretched,
rubbed his eyes, and sat up sleepily.  His eyes fell
on me, exactly where he had left me, and I saw his
sleepy eyes twinkle momentarily with an amused
superiority and smugness.  But he didn't say anything.
 Instead, he simply clambered out of bed.  In spite of
everything, I found myself checking out his bronzed,
muscular body -- his hairless six pack, his buff arms,
his broad shoulders, and his strong, masculine hairy
legs, as he put on his flip-flops and grabbed his
towel, still wearing nothing but his tight underwear.

I was tempted to ask at this point to be allowed to
pee.  But my punishments from the night before were
still all too fresh in my mind.  I waited.

Trevor went into the bathroom and shut the door.  I
heard the sound of him brushing his teeth again,
running water as he shaved, and then a long stretch of
time as the shower ran.  When he finally reemerged, he
was dripping wet, and was in the process of toweling
off.

I stayed silent as he put on his deoderant, and then a
pair of workout shorts and T-shirt with the crew team
logo on it.  He reached into his dirty laundry and
pulled out a pair of socks -- I guess he hadn't been
kidding about not having any clean socks! -- and then
reached for his sneakers.  It was only then that I
dared to speak.

"Please sir," I said timidly, breaking the silence.
"Please, don't be angry with me sir . . . but  I
really really have to pee, and if I don't get a little
food and water soon I think I might pass out . . .
sir."

Trevor looked annoyed.  "Fucking-A, dude.  I'm gonna
be late for practice."  He seemed to consider my
request.  I held my breath.

"It'd be pretty sweet if I just let you piss
yourself," he said, with a little smirk.  He saw my
begging eyes.  "Alright, FINE, my little bitch.  Only
cuz I'm in a good mood."

Trevor kept my hands tied and handcuffed behind my
back, but he untied everything else.  I can't begin to
describe the relief that washed over me as I was
allowed to actually stand up straight and walk. I was
still wearing the dog collar, of course, and Trevor
led me into the bathroom by the leash (our bathroom is
completely filthy, since Trevor and I are awful about
cleaning it, and I usually try not to go in their
without shoes of some kind, but of course this time I
didn't mind). While he looked on, still holding the
leash in one hand, I let out a sigh of relief and
allowed my bottled up piss to be released into the
toilet bowel.  Under normal circumstances, I would be
humiliated by having another guy watch me while I
pissed, but given what I'd already been through with
Trevor, this felt like small potatoes.

Leading me back into the main room, I was terrified
Trevor was going to retie me to the coffee table.  He
did . . . but he only connected my ankles to the table
legs, thus allowing me to lie down on the floor on my
back.  My legs were still spread, of course, and my
wrists, still tied and handcuffed behind my back, were
now pinned underneath my body.  But compared with what
I had been dealing with for the last eighteen hours,
this was pure heaven.

Trevor even brought me a nalgene bottle filled with
water, held it above my face, and poured the water
down my throat as I gratefully lapped it up.

I decided, once again, to push my luck.  "Sir . . .
permission to speak, sir?"

Trevor grunted.  "If you fucking have to.  Make it
fast."

"Thank you sir.  Sir, I have a very important class at
11:30, and there's a big paper due today, and I was
wondering . . ."

Trevor cut me off.  "You gotta be fucking kidding me,"
he guffawed.  "You wanna go to a class?  Forget it,
cum breath.  You're not going to any classes today."

Finally, before he left the room, he went over to our
fridge, opened it, and got something out.

"Here," he said, with a little smirk.  "You said you
were hungry.  So eat this."  He tossed it at me -- two
slices plopped down on the dirty dorm room floor with
a disgusting little SPLAT.  I looked at them -- they
looked old

"We need to get rid of it," Trevor said
matter-of-factly.  "Some of the frat brothers and I
ordered that pizza last month."  He picked up his
backpack in one hand and his gym bag in the other.
"If you're so hungry, foot stool, go ahead and eat it
off the floor.  I promise, it'll be better than any
fucking class you could ever wanna go to.  I'll be
back later."

He left, locking the door behind him.



Trevor was gone for hours.

I was hungry enough that I was able to eat the pizza --
barely.  For one thing, it was hard to reach, since it
was just lying on the floor next to me, and I was on
my back with my hands tied behind me.  I had to lift
myself up, like I was doing an ab crunch, lean all the
way over, and pick first one, then the other slice up
using only my teeth.  Eating both slices without using
my hands was hard, not to say messy, and the pizza was
pretty stale, even moldy, but I somehow managed to get
it down.  Having food and water made me feel slightly
less desperate.  But only slightly.

After that, I had nothing to do but lie there and wait
for Trevor to come home.  I tried to reach around to
my hard dick, but I still couldn't -- as long as my
hands were tied and cuffed behind my back, it was
completely impossible.  Eventually, from sheer lack of
anything else to do, I feel into a fitful sleep.



I woke up to the sound of the door slamming.  Trevor
was back from his practice -- as usual, dripping with
sweat.

 "Listen, dude," he said hurriedly.  He tore off his
sweat soaked shirt, dropped it on the floor next to
me, and pulled on a fresh new one as he talked.  "I'm
going out with some friends.  I might bring `em back
here later, so I want you clean this place up while
I'm gone."  He leaned down and hurriedly untied my
ankles from the legs of the coffee table, then
unfastened the leash and took off the dog collar
around my neck.  He threw all the restraints into a
big king soopers bag, and tossed that into his work
out bag.  "Just make sure the room looks neat when I
get back."

He grabbed his bag, and I realized he was already
leaving again.

"Wait," I said.  "If you want me to clean . . . can't
you please untie my hands . . . sir?"

"No," Trevor said shortly, heading for the door. "I
don't have time.  Just improvise."  He glanced back at
me.  He paused, and jerked his head sharply toward the
big trunk that he'd locked me in yesterday.  "When
you're done, just climb back into that thing and make
sure the lid closes.  I don't want you to be in the
way of me and my friends, so you better stay in there
and not make a peep.

He closed the door.

I studied it for a minute before I realized something
important.

He'd forgotten to lock it.



My heart began to beat faster.  The door was unlocked.
 I suddenly realized what this could mean: escape!

I hesitated.  Did I dare?  What if Trevor somehow
managed to stop me?  I shuddered -- the consequences of
that would be terrible.

There was also another nagging question in my mind --
did I even want to escape?  After all, I was never
going to find another guy half as hot as Trevor who
would play so well to my submissive side and my
obsession with feet.  But I quickly dismissed this
thought.  For any number of reasons, I had to escape.
I couldn't live my life at college like this for
another day.  Who knew what Trevor would decide to do
to me next?

How would I do this, I wondered?  I was still
completely naked, as I had been since Trevor had made
me strip before tying me up the day before.  With my
hands still cuffed behind my back, I didn't think
there was any way that I'd be able to put on underwear
or pants.  Did I really dare to just walk out into the
hallway, butt naked, with my wrists handcuffed behind
my back?  Even if I did, where would I go?

I decided quickly that I would go find an RA.  Each
freshman dorm had several RAs -- seniors who the
university paid to supervise the freshmen and, among
other things, resolve any rooming disputes.  There was
always at least one on duty at any time -- I could
check on the big whiteboard at the end of the hall who
was on duty this afternoon.  Then I could go bang on
his door, explain the situation, and make sure Trevor
was kicked out of school before the week's end.

I gritted my teeth.  It was gonna be humiliating, but
I could do it.  Maybe, if I was lucky, I would manage
to get through the hall without anyone other than the
RA seeing me -- it did sound pretty quiet, I thought
encouragingly.

I waited a few more minutes, to make sure Trevor had
really left the building, and wasn't going to
unexpectedly come back.  Then, taking a deep breath,
before I could change my mind, I walked up to the
door.  It took a few moments to maneuver my hands
around the doorknob, but I managed to get a grip on
it, turn it, and push the door open.



A few minutes later, I was standing outside of the
RA's room.  I was lucky.  The RA on duty -- Collin --
lived just one floor down from Trevor and I.  I had
taken the stairs, so I didn't have to walk far, and I
hadn't seen anyone.  I had never actually met Collin,
and I was a bit nervous -- this wasn't exactly the best
way to meet someone.

I couldn't exactly knock, so I banged my head against
the door.  "Hello?" I said, trying to keep the
desperation out of my voice.  "Anyone there?"

There was no reply.

I tried again, louder.  My head hurt this time from
knocking.  "Hello??"

The door suddenly opened, and I stumbled in.

"What the fuck?" I heard a voice exclaim.

"Hey . . . are you Collin?" I panted, looking up at
him. He was tall.

"Uh . . . yeah . . ." the RA replied, staring down at
me.  I supposed I must have been quite a sight to see.
 I felt myself blushing with shame, but I pressed on.

"Boy am I glad to see you . . . uh, you mind letting
me in and shutting the door a sec, I gotta talk to you
about something."

Collin hesitated, then shrugged.  "I guess I can see
that," he said dryly.  He moved aside, allowing me to
come into the room, and shut the door behind me.

Collin wasn't wearing a shirt -- just a pair of workout
shorts and flip-flops.  Now that I had a second to
breath, I realized that I recognized Collin.  I'd
always thought he was a real hunk -- I had send him
down by the campus pool a lot.  I hadn't ever realized
he was an RA for our dorm -- all I knew was that he was
on the swim team, and worked as a life guard down by
the campus pool, where I had occasionally seen him
sunning himself, shirtless and wearing those
flip-flops.  He had a great sculpted body, a real
athletic build, and a smooth boyish face.  He had
sandy blond hair, in contrast to Trevor's jet dark
hair, and he had terrific muscle tone.  In spite of
myself, I stole a glance at his flip-flops -- he had
big feet, masculine and dark -- perfect lifeguard feet.
 I felt my aching cock stir again.  I tried to focus --
I had gotten plenty of that in the last few days, I
reminded myself.  I pressed on.

"Uh, so listen, I'm a freshman from the floor
upstairs, and I got kinda a rooming situation to tell
you about," I began.

Collin studied me critically.  "You wanna maybe take
off those handcuffs first dude?"

"I . . . I can't," I stammered.

And then, giving him as few details as possible about
the many things Trevor had made me do, I began to
explain my predicament.

"Wow," he said, sympathetically, when I had finished.
"Holy shit.  That's some fucked up shit."

I nodded.  "Ya.  You can say that again."  I was
turned awkwardly away from Collin -- being forced to
recount what Trevor had done to me, even giving the
most barebones possible summary, had embarrassingly
caused me to spring yet another boner -- something I
was trying to conceal.  I was sort of hoping Collin
would offer me a towel or some underwear or something,
but he hadn't, and I didn't really want to ask him.

"So . . . I guess you want to file a disciplinary
action against Trevor, huh?" Collin said, getting up
off the bed and going over to his desk.

"Yeah," I said quickly.  "Yeah, that's definitely what
I want.  And I also wanna new roommate right away."

"Well, under the circumstances, that shouldn't be too
unreasonable.  Let me see what I can do."  He grabbed
two forms from a drawer and a pen, and brought them
back to me.  Both forms had the school logo emblazoned
on them.  One said "disciplinary proceedings filing"
on the top, and the other said "roommate change
request form."  Both had lines at the bottom that I
was supposed to sign -- the disciplinary proceedings
filing also required the signature of an RA and the
university dean of disciplinary action.

I looked at them.  "That looks great," I said.  "The
only problem . . ."

Collin finished the sentence for me.  ". . . is that
you can't fill them out and sign `em with your hands
cuffed behind you like that.  Got it.  That makes
sense," he said shaking his head and chuckling.  "Wow.
 That's just sick."  He paused.  "So how do we take
the handcuffs off?"

"Well . . . Trevor had a key up in the room . . . but
I don't know what he did with it."  I frowned.

Collin went to his closet, grabbed a T-shirt, and
threw it on.  "Hey, no problem, dude.  I have a master
key that opens up any room in the dorm. Why don't you
just wait here, and I'll go up, search your room, and
see if we can find the key."

After dealing with Trevor for the last day, Collin was
so warm and helpful that it almost made me want to
cry.  "Ah gosh . . . thanks . . . can't tell you how
much I appreciate it . . ."

"Don't mention it man, it's what we're here for."
Collin headed for the door.  "Oh, by the way, you
gotta  laptop, right?"

"Uh, yes . . ."

"Is it password protected?"

"Uh . . . yeah.  Why?"

"The campus police are gonna do wanna do a search of
your room.  It's a potential crime scene.  And they'll
want to search the hard drives on both your and
Trevor's to make the search as thorough as possible.
You better tell me the password now.  That way I can
talk to someone on the campus police force this
afternoon, and they can search your room today --
that's the fastest way to get Trevor kicked out of the
dorm."

"Oh . . . ok."  I definitely wanted to get this whole
thing resolved as soon as possible.  I told him my
password.

"Thanks," Collin said, with a satisfied smile.  "I'll
be back as soon as I can.  Just . . . sit tight."



I "sat tight" for a while.  With my hands still cuffed
behind my back, all I could really do was sit on
Collin's bed and wait for him to return.  I closed my
eyes, hoping that he'd come back with the key soon,
and this whole thing would be over.

The clock on the wall seemed to move at a glacial
rate.  First an hour passed, then two.  Where the hell
was Collin?

As I waited, I felt myself getting horny once again.
Fuck!  I really, really needed to whack off -- I'd been
holding it in for way too long.  Finally, I couldn't
take it any more.  I had to get off NOW.  I was
through waiting.

How was I going to do it with my hands still cuffed
behind my back?  I was horny enough that I thought, if
I just leaned forward on Collin's bed, pressing my
throbbing cock down on his comforter and crushing it
under my body weight, then moving it around, that in
my present state that would easily be enough to push
me over the edge.  But I didn't want to cum on
Collin's bed -- especially after all that he was doing
for me.

I had an idea.  His dirty laundry hamper!  I spotted
it over in the corner.  If I could just dig a white
shirt out of the bottom of that, and put it on top of
his comforter, that would be fine . . . right?

Moving quickly, I trotted over to his dirty laundry
hamper.  The clothing on top was all dark stuff -- I
didn't want to risk cum stains.  Bending over and
using my teeth, I sifted through the hamper, digging
down until I found a white shirt.

Aha!  I spotted one -- it was an all white T-shirt,
except for some big text printed on the front.  That
would be fine.  I clutched it between my teeth --
ignoring the powerful smell of dirty laundry -- and
went back to the bed, my cock drooling in
anticipation.

Again using my teeth, I straightened the shirt out on
the bed and prepared to lean forward on it.

Suddenly, unbidden, my eye fell on the words that were
printed on the front of the shirt.  I read them once.
Then again.  No way.  It couldn't be.

The shirt said "Delta Psi," spelled out in both
English and with greek characters.

Trevor's frat.

It had to just be a coincidence, I told myself.  Maybe
he just happened to have a Delta Psi shirt that a
friend had given him?

But why would he ever wear it?  You didn't wear a
frat's shirt on campus unless you were in it.

Maybe Collin had a roommate?  But that couldn't be
either -- there was only one bed.

OK.  So he was in Delta Psi.  Big deal!  He was a
different year from Trevor -- he was a senior.  Trevor
was only a freshman like me.

Except . . . Delta Psi was a notoriously exclusive
frat -- they usually only took top athletes -- and
therefore pretty small.  Trevor and Collin would have
to know each other well.  And Collin hadn't given any
indication that he knew Trevor.  And given that they
were frat brothers, Collin had accepted my account far
too easily, and with far too little skepticism.

Fuck.

I stood up and trotted over to the door.  I realized I
had to get out of there . . . right away.

Except . . . right as I was trying to get my cuffed
hands around the knob, the knob turned on its own, and
the door opened.

"Going somewhere, you little bitch?"

Collin was standing there, grinning at me.  And right
behind him stood Trevor, grinning even more broadly.


If you like my work, or have ideas on where this story
should go, or just want to drop me a line, email me at
greg_alexander222@yahoo.com.  Thanks!