Date: Thu, 7 Sep 2006 01:35:16 -0700 (PDT)
From: greg_alexander222@yahoo.com
Subject: Frat Boy's Bitch Boy - Part 4

The following is an original work of fiction that
contains graphicdepictions 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:

Steve, a nice, cute, wirey, closeted, and obviously
meek freshman, got assigned as his college roommate
Trevor, a frat boy who is on both the varsity tennis
and crew teams.  Let's just say that Trevor, as hot as
he is, is not always a very courteous roommate . . .

After Trevor ties Steve up naked, makes him massage
his feet, uses him as his foot stool as he watches a 4
hour football game and then reads Sports Illustrated,
makes him do push-ups, and then ties him to the foot
of his bed, makes him lick the soles of his feet
again, and paddles hims -- among other things -- Steve
manages to escape from the room and tell on Trevor to
his RA, Collin.  Collin agrees to help Steve get a new
rommmate, and throw Trevor out of the school.  There's
just one problem . . . when Steve digs through
Collin's dirty laundry while Collin is out getting
help (his hands are still cuffed behind him and he
needs to whack off), Steve makes a surprising
discovery:

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

Trevor's frat.

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.



Chapter 4

I tried to dart past them, springing forward with a
surge of adrenaline and aiming for the narrow gap
between them.  Using just one hand, Collin casually
grabbed my arm and arrested me in mid-stride.

Still I kicked and struggled frantically.  But at just
5'9'', with a lithe but nevertheless scrawny build, I
didn't stand a prayer against two muscular jocks at
the height of their athletic abilities.  Without even
breaking a sweat, Collin dragged me back into the
room, and Trevor quietly shut the door.

At that point I was a little hysterical.  Figuring I
had nothing to lose, I opened my mouth and started to
scream at the top of my lungs.

Calmly, Trevor reached into the workout bag that he
was carrying and fished out a role of duct tape.  I
tried to run away.  But Collin effortlessly took my
head into a vice-like grip and held me still while
Trevor yanked a long piece of tape off and wrapped it
around my face, covering my mouth.  Still I tried to
scream, but Trevor quickly wrapped the tape around my
head in several loops, until my voice had been
completely muffled.

"Christ," Collin muttered.  "I thought you said you
had the little cum slut trained."

"I did," Trevor said grimly.  "I guess he forgets
fast."

I was still trying to wiggle away from them.  Collin
now dropped me to the floor, flipped me over onto my
belly with his strong hands, and proceeded to pin me
down by kneeling on my back with one knee.  There was
a limit to how much I could struggle, since my hands
were still, after all this time, securely cuffed
behind my back.  Now, however, Trevor produced a
second pair of silver handcuffs from his bag and used
them to cuff my ankles together -- he quickly locked
them, and tucked the key away into whatever mysterious
pouch he liked to store my handcuff keys.  He retied
my knees together with shoelaces.  Then, as if all
this weren't enough, he took out the dog collar and
snapped it once again around my neck.  Then he took a
metal chain out of his bag -- I hadn't seen this yet,
it must be new, I thought.  He snapped the top link on
the chain to a hook in the front of my dog collar,
then threaded the chain down along my belly,
underneath my pubes, yanked it between my legs (which
were shut tightly together as my knees were tightly
bound), and up behind my ass.  He then pulled the
chain TIGHT -- very very tight, so that my dog collar
was jerked sharply down and I was forced to keep my
head permanently bowed.  Then, making sure the chain
was perfectly taut, he hooked the other end of the
chain to the handcuffs around my wrists, so that my
arms were now completely immobilized.  Trevor adjusted
the chain so it fit neatly along my asscrack, biting
into it sharply.  It hurt like hell

Trevor stood up and backed away.  "Caught ya," he
said, softly.

Collin and Trevor, standing over my prostrate body,
suddenly cracked up, both letting loose with peals of
deep masculine laughter.

"Dude," Trevor said, thumping Collin on the back and
wiping tears from his eyes.  "Oh man.  So he really
fell for it, huh?"

Collin was still chuckling.  "Oh yeah, Trev.  Hook,
line and fucking sinker.  He showed up at my room
exactly when you said he would."

"And he really thought you were gonna go file the
disciplinary action against me?"

"Dude, I was an amazing actor, you should have seen
it.  The little bitch THANKED me.  `oh . . . gosh . .
. gee mister . . . you're really swell!'" he said in a
high pitched mocking voice.

This imitation provoked a second outburst of laugher
from both of them.

"God," Collin was saying, walking around me to the
other side, examining my backside.  "His ass is
bruised black and blue!  Did you do that?"

"Whatya think?  Yup . . . that's the pledge trainer's
work right there for you."

"Jeeesus.  How many strokes did you give him?"

"Oh . . . sixty-four.  Hard ones, too."

Collin just whistled.  "That's fucking sick, man."

Trevor jabbed at me roughly with the toe of his tennis
shoe.  "Well, obviously the little escape artist here
didn't learn his lesson too good, did he?"  He shook
his head.  "You know, half of me was thinking, after
all I've put him through, my roommate's way too much
of a pussy to ever try to get away from me.  I got him
where I want him, I got him trained.  But then I
thought again.  And I realized the little wimp would
tuck tail and run away at the first opportunity.  So I
was gonna have to show him that he couldn't get away --
that I am smarter than him and he's always gonna get
caught.  And that when he gets caught, he gets
punished."  He turned to Collin.  "So, you got his
laptop?"

"Yup.  It's right here.  I put it in his backpack and
took the whole thing."

"And the password worked?"

"Uh-huh."

"OK, cool.  Just be sure to hang onto it."  Trevor
leaned forward and addressed me directly for the first
time.  "OK, listen up footstool, cuz I'm only gonna
tell you this once.  I gather by now you've met my
buddy Collin here.  He's an RA.  He's also the frat's
treasurer, and the frat's been having some financial
trouble lately.  So we cooked up a little deal."  He
grinned again.  "Show him the disciplinary proceedings
form, Col."

Collin fished into his pocket and pulled out a folded
up piece of paper.  He smoothed it out and gingerly
set it down on the floor below my nose.  I squinted at
it -- it was hard to read from up close.

It was the same form that he had given me before, that
he'd said he would get filled out on Trevor.  Now the
form was filled out.  He had signed on the RA line,
and the Dean of Disciplinary action had also signed.
There was just one problem: the form didn't accuse
Trevor of wrongdoing.  It accused ME.  And the
accuser's signature . . . was Trevor's!

I stared at it.

"See, apparently, you've been molesting Trevor here
for months," Collin snickered.  "You've got this
obsession with him.  Whenever he falls asleep, you
somehow end up in his bed, trying to suck his cock.
Trevor tried and tried to settle this amicably, but he
finally lost it today, came over here and filed this
complaint.  And if the campus police ever search your
computer, after today -- since you were nice enough to
provide us with your password -- they'll not only find
a huge file of pictures of Trevor sleeping, and
letters written about how much you want Trevor to fuck
you.  It seems they'll also find a large fucking stash
of kiddie porn on there as well."  Collin clucked his
tongue.  "Kiddie porn, Stevie?  Don't you know that
stuff's illegal?"

"Carries a pretty stiff jail sentence, doesn't it?"
Trevor suggested helpfully

"Of course," Collin added, "it might look a bit
suspicious.  My and Trev being frat brothers and all.
They might suspect maybe we set you up.  But then, the
disciplinary dean is an alum of the frat, and so is
the campus chief of police.  So we really didn't have
much of a problem getting the dean to sign this form.
And we also won't have any problem at all getting the
police to search your computer, and to determine that
the kidde porn is all yours. There's certainly no way
we could have put all that stuff on it.  After all,"
he said with a little smirk, "it's password
protected."

I shut my eyes.  I was totally speechless . . . and
not just because of the duct tape over my mouth.

"Of course," Collin said slyly, slowly withdrawing the
form and folding it up again, "as the RA who has
signed the form, none of this is gonna happen unless I
submit the form to the disciplinary board, and turn
your laptop over to the campus police."

Trevor picked up. "If he does . . . well, definitely
expulsion.  When they find all your nasty kiddie porn,
probably some jail time.  And for sure some really,
really fucking nasty publicity.  Not to mention the
very special welcome I'm sure the inmates will have
planned for you to make you feel at home."  He paused,
and glanced at me.  "Would you like to know whether
I'm gonna send in the form?"

I nodded slowly.

"Well . . . see, that depends on how well Trevor here
tells me you've been behaving from now on."

They both chuckled at this.

Collin turned back to Trevor.  "So . . . we agreed on
Wednesdays and Sundays, right?"

"Yeah, for sure," Trevor nodded.  "I'll bring him to
the Frat every Wednesday and Sunday for the rest of
the semester, plus on other special occasions, like we
said, and we'll supervise him jointly there."  He
turned back to look at me, and his cold blue eyes
twinkled happily.  "But we're not starting that till
next week.  The little bitch is all mine for the next
seven days."  He shook his head.  "I can't believe he
actually came running to you, trying to get me kicked
out of the school.  Oh man.  Talk about a bad idea."

"What are you planning to do to him?" Collin asked

Trevor scratched his chin thoughtfully.  "Yeah . .
.I've been thinking about that all day."  He took a
step closer to Collin, leaned over, and began to
whisper in his ear.  As Collin listened, he seemed to
be trying hard to keep a straight face.  Then, after a
second, he lost it and cracked up again.

"You gotta be shitting me."

"No man.  I'm serious.

"Can I come by later and check this action out?"

"Sure dude, no problem.  I owe you one."

"Nah, we're even."  Collin shook his head.  "Wow.
Well, I sure am fucking glad he's your bitch boy, and
I'm not."

Trevor thumped him jovially on the back.  "Ah, no
dude.  You're my bro." He grinned.  "Why do you think
I haven't made you my bitch already?"

Collin punched him in the arm, reached around and
tried to put him in a headlock.  "Shut the fuck up!"
he scoffed.  "You're a freshman, Trev.  Don't be
getting all uppity on me now."

They horsed around the room for a few seconds, then,
grinning, they disengaged.

"Cool," Trevor said.  He glanced back at me, as though
suddenly remember I was there.  "Hey," he said,
suddenly.  "Doya think the little faggot is still
hard?"

"Well, if he had a boner the whole time you were
paddling him, I guess maybe the fucking pervert likes
being blackmailed, too."

Trevor studied me.  "I'm gonna flip him over and see,"
he said.  He took a few masculine strides over to my
prostrate body, and nudged me roughly over with the
toe of his tennis shoe. When I didn't roll over onto
my back, he gave me a slow kick.  I winced as I rolled
over 180 degress, my hands suddenly pinned painfully
underneath my strained body.  My cock, which had been
facing down toward the floor, was suddenly fully
visible again, and it was more inflamed than ever.
Trevor leered down at me, trapping me underneath his
treaded sole, and prodded my balls with the toe of his
shoe as he talked, which only served to turn my dick
on more.  "Yup," he said.  "Regular as clockwork.  Oh
man, the little creep wants to get off so badly."

Collin was looking thoughtfully at his bed.  "Huh," he
said.  "One of my T-shirts that I put in the dirty
laundry is sitting out on the bed."  He furrowed his
brow, thinking about it.  "It's my frat T-shirt.  With
the Delta Psi logo.  Do you think your little bitch
boy . . ."

"Moved it?" Trevor said, his eyes flickering.  "Yeah,
I bet he did.  I'm sure he did.  I bet that's why he
was trying to run away when we came in -- cuz he found
the shirt, figured you were in my frat, and began to
wet his undies.  Just a little too late."  He looked
at my trussed up body again.

"But why'd he move it?"  There was a pause.  "You
don't think the creep . . ."

"Whacked off on it?"  Trevor finished the sentence for
Collin, then snickered.  "Yeah, I bet that's exactly
what he was trying to do."

"Oh man.  That fucker."

"He really is so desperate to cum that he's willing to
beat off using your fucking dirty laundry," Trevor
said, shaking his head.  "Pretty incredible."

"Listen, man," Collin said.  For the first time, he
sounded genuinely pissed.  "You gotta teach that
little bitch boy that he can't pull that shit.  As
long as you got him trussed up like that, hands behind
his back, and you don't let him cum, he's gonna keep
trying to beat his meat anyway, anywhere he can,
rubbing his nasty little dick on your stuff."

Trevor looked at me with a malicious smile.  "Not
after today."

"Even if you do all that shit to him, Trev, and even
if you threaten to do it all again if you catch him
whacking off, you're still not gonna prevent him from
rubbing his fucking cock against the carpet when
you're out, and that little cum slut is already so
hard that that's all it would take for him to spray
his cream all over the floor.  You know how horny you
and I get, man, and I bet ya he's even randier.  The
freaks always are.  He must be just desperate to whack
off.  If you're not gonna let him cum, you gotta keep
him on a tighter leash."

"Ok," Trevor said, thinking about the problem.  "So
what should I do?"

"I dunno.  Maybe you should just let him whack off."

Trevor looked at me coldly.  "I should just let him
get off thinking about me, about my body?  Uh-uh, man,
no way."

"Well," Collin suggested, atfter a second of thought.
"I might have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah.  Hang on.  You watch the little fag, make sure
he doesn't try to cum or anything while I'm gone.  I'm
gonna go down the hall and see if this dude is in his
room."  Collin was walking over to the door.

"Who's the dude?" Trevor asked.

"Just a guy I know  I think I might be able to borrow
something from him."

Collin walked out.



He was back after just a few minutes, and he was
carrying something in his hand.  From where I was
lying on the floor, I couldn't see a thing.  What was
he holding?

"Do you have it?" Trevor wanted to know eagerly.

Collin grinned.  "Oh yeah.  Do I ever.  It was a
little awkward trying to explain why I needed it . . .
but yeah I have it."

"What is it?"

"Well . . . see, this dude has a collection of exotic
toys that he keeps stored in this box under his bed.
It's kinda weird actually, but I guess he thinks it's
hot.  He's got all kinds of crap -- including this."

Trevor was studying it.  I tried to crane my neck to
see it, but couldn't move.

"What the fuck is it?" Trevor said, staring at it.

"Dude, you haven't ever seen one of these before?"

"No!  I don't check out those websites, Col.  Tell me
what the fuck it is!"

"It's a chastity belt," Collin said.  "A chastity belt
for guys."

He suddenly held it up to the light, and my whole body
went cold.
I studied it with dread.  It wasn't so much a belt as
a cock cage.  It was made of a weird combination of
steel and leather, meshed together.  It was small --
but it looked effective.  There was a tubular meshed
cage -- six silver rings, forming concentric circles,
spaced tightly together, joined together by leather
bindings to form a narrow cylinder.  Then there were
two leather straps connected to the device, each strap
equipped with a brass padlock.  Finally, there was a
metal hook connected to one of the straps.

Trevor just stared at it.  "Holy shit, man," he
finally said.  "That's so fucking sick."  He walked
over to Collin, took it gingerly into his hands, and
examined it cautiously.  "So . . . you can actually
put this on a guy's dick?"

"Yeah."

"Did your perverted buddy show you how?"


"Oh, yeah.  See, this leather locking strap goes
around his cock, the other around his ball sack.  I
think my buddy said this model is called "the gates of
hell," or some weird shit like that.  Each strap
secures to the cock cage with a brass padlock.  Then,
just to make sure the thing can't come off, you can
link this hook, here, to something else -- like that
chain he's wearing would be perfect."  Collin gestured
toward the chain that was still wedged between my
asscheeks, connecting the dog collar to my bound
hands.

Trevor continued to study it.  "And there's no way a
guy wearing this can cum?"

Collin shook his head. "No way in hell, not if it
stays on right.  If a dude is wearing it, and you
fasten it right, then your cock is totally encased --
no way for it to touch anything.  You sure as hell
can't whack off.  There's an opening at the end for
your cock head to let you piss, but that's it."

"Huh."  Trevor ran his finger over its surface.  "So .
. . how long can you keep it on someone?"

"Oh, I think you can keeep it on for weeks, if you
want.  Probably even longer."

Trevor nodded with satisfaction.  "Good," he said.  He
glanced over at me again.  "Let's put it on the
fucker."

I wanted to try to desperately wiggle away, but --
mindful of the new leverage Trevor had over me -- I
didn't dare.  I couldn't have moved far, at any rate,
and just in case, Collin held my body down while
Trevor fastened the straps around my cock and balls,
tightened them, and then latched them into place.  The
contraption was now on tightly and securely -- I could
feel it wasn't going to budge.  It was squeezing my
ball sack far too tightly to come off.  But, for good
measure, Trevor flipped me roughly over, yanked on the
chastity belt's hook, so that the whole contraption
was being tugged at from behind, and snapped the hook
around one of the links in the chain wedged between my
ass-cheeks.

Trevor then took my rock-hard cock in his hand.  The
very act of him touching my dick sent powerful shivers
down my spine -- I began drooling precum.  My chest was
heaving.  Trevor blew lightly, sadistically on my
cockhead.  I gasped.

"Hope you're enjoying this, foot slave."  He said.
"It's the last thing your overworked dick is gonna
feel for a long time."  With that, he slipped the
metal cylindrical cage over my cock, snapping the base
of the cage to the straps with bronze locks.  As he
effortlessly tightened the chastity belt still
further, I stared at the metal rings sheathing my
dick.  It was completely secure -- I couldn't feel a
thing.  My cock was still aching, still hard as a
rock, my whole body crying out for Trevor's massive
man-paw to continue to clutch it -- every fiber of me
wanted to explode in a violent, spasming orgasm.  But
my cock was completely sealed off.  Until Trevor
decided to unlock the belt and remove it, nothing
could provide me with relief.  My cock was locked away
permanently.

"Alright," Trevor finally announced.  "I think that
should hold.  Thanks, man.  Well, do me one more favor
and help me get him back up to my dorm room, will
yah?"

Collin grabbed a big sleeping bag that was lying along
the side of the room.  "Just carry him up in this."

"K.  Help me lift him."

The two frat boys grabbed me on either side, and like
a bag of produce, dumped me into the big sleeping bag
head first.

"Hey -- thanks for all your help man," I heard Trevor
say.  "Seeya later."

The bag was heaved up into the air, and I felt us
moving.  I wondered helplessly what Trevor was
planning for me next.




I had to wait a while longer to find out.

I felt Trevor drag me back into our room -- or what I
guessed was our room, since I couldn't see a thing.
He hung the sleeping bag up by the tightening cord on
the top, from what I guessed must be one of the towel
hangers or other hooks mounted on the dorm wall.
There I hovered, dangling from midair in a sleeping
bag, completely tied up, my erect cock fully caged and
inaccessible, listening to Trevor's footsteps echo
around the dorm.  I shook my head.  How had I ever let
things get so fucked up, I wondered?

After all this time, I still hadn't cum!  As time
passed and I became increasingly desperate, I tried,
once, to rub my cock up against the soft fabric of the
sleeping bag, but the infernal cock cage worked all
too well -- it really was the gates of hell, and I had
abandoned all hope by entering it.  I felt like I was
going a little crazy.

I heard Trevor sit down in what sounded like his big
easy chair.  He flipped on the TV -- it sounded like he
was listening to ESPN again.  This time it was a
tennis match.  I wondered, with a sense of
exasperation, if he ever watched anything other than
sports.

It think he read for a while -- it was hard to tell,
but I thought I could hear flipping pages.  Then he
talked on the phone -- it sounded like he was flirting
with some girl who went to another college.  They
talked for a while -- by the end of the conversation,
Trevor seemed to have convinced her to come visit him
the next weekend.  (At one point in the call, he
mentioned that he had pushed two beds together in his
dorm, so now he had "a new king-sized bed" with plenty
of room for two).  In the background, I could hear the
noise of the tennis match.  Through it all, I sat
there in the sleeping bag, dripping with sweat, afraid
to move a muscle.

Finally, after a while (I was completely losing my
sense of time by this point) I heard Trevor get up,
come over to me, lift the sleeping back off the hook,
and unexpectedly flip it over. I tumbled out onto the
floor, blinking at the sudden light.

"Hello, foot stool," Trevor said, grinning at me.



After warning me that if I screamed again, he would
make me very sorry that I had, Trevor unwrapped the
duct tape from around my mouth.

"Please sir," I sobbed, as soon as my mouth was free.
"Please sir, do what you like with me, but just let me
take off the cock cage for one minute and cum.  I'm
going crazy.  I have to cum!  I'm so sorry I tried to
run away from you.  I won't ever, ever, ever do it
again, sir."

"Damn straight you're not gonna do it again, boy.  Now
that Collin's got your laptop and that form, if you
ever disobey anything I say ever again, I'm gonna put
your sorry ass in prison."  He ignored completely my
pleas to be allowed one orgasm.  Instead, he reached
into his gym bag now and took out the dog leash -- even
though he had already hooked the chain to my collar,
he now hooked the leash on as well.  "But just in case
that fact hasn't penetrated your thick fucking skull,
I'm gonna make sure you learn your lesson."  As he
said this, he took ahold of the leash and began to
drag me across the dorm room floor.  He was heading
for the bathroom.  I could scarcely move, with my
hands still tied behind my back (they had been that
way for almost a day now, I thought grimly) but I
shimmied along behind him on my knees as best I could.


"Please sir.  I'm sorry sir!" I was still saying
desperately.

"Yeah?"  He glanced behind at me scornfully.  "Are you
also sorry you took the first opportunity you could to
tattle on me like a whiny little bitch, and tried to
get me expelled?"

"Uh . . . yes sir.  I'm very sorry about that too
sir!"

"Uh huh."  He jerked on the leash.  "Well, trust me.
You're gonna be a whole lot sorrier by the end of this
week."

I was dragged into the bathroom.  As I mentioned
already, our dorm bathroom is absolutely filthy.
Trevor never cleaned it, ever, and not wanting to get
stuck with all the work, I had not cleaned it in a
long, long time either.  The tiled floor was
absolutely covered with dirty grime and muck, the
toilet seat and the entire porcelain surface of the
toilet was a dirty mess, and even the sink was filthy.
 The air was stale, and it smelled bad.  The drain in
the center of the floor didn't work very well, and
there was always a tiny puddle of dark shower water
backed up and sitting in the middle of the bathroom.

"Alright," Trevor said, dropping the leash once he had
dragged me to the middle of the floor.  He walked over
and shut the bathroom door.  "Now, let's go over a
couple of things.

"One.  Stop fucking talking to me.  You keep trying to
fucking talk to me. `Please, sir, don't do this.
Please, sir stop, it hurts.  Please sir, I'm very
sorry sir.  Please sir, let me cum sir.'  I already
told you, I don't want to hear your girly ass voice
unless I ask you a direct question.  For a while it
was fun to hear you beg and grovel, but now it's just
annoying as hell.  The only reason I took the tape off
your mouth is that you're about to need to use your
tongue, again.  But it sure as hell isn't for talking.
  You got that?"

I nodded wordlessly.  I couldn't really look up at him
as he was talking, because the chain attached to my
dog collar kept my head perpetually bowed -- all I
could really do was stare at his sneakers.

"Hey -- I said, you GOT THAT??"

"Yes sir.  I understand sir!!" I quickly said.

"Good.  Two.  More generally.  Just in case you
haven't gotten the picture yet because your even
dumber than I thought, you are no longer going to
class, for the rest of the year, unless it's MY class
to take notes for me.  Collin has already filed a form
withdrawing you from all your classes.  From now on,
your entire life is about only one thing: ME.  MY
needs.  Pleasing ME.  Doing whatever the fucking hell
I say.

"Let me elaborate, in case that's not clear.  Like I
said, this week is punishment week.  And then from now
on, there's a new motto around here.  It's this:
Trevor doesn't lift a fucking finger.  From now on,
your gonna do all my homework.  If I get grades I
don't like, you're gonna be punished.  You're gonna do
all my laundry.  Your gonna pick up after me, put my
clothes away, shine my shoes.  After I wake up every
day, you're gonna make the bed.

"Three: all of your possessions -- every single thing
that you own, from this second on belongs to me.
Understand?  It's no longer yours, its mine.  As of
this moment, I now own your cellphone, your DVD
player, your camera, your shoes, and every fucking
last scrap of clothing that you used to consider
yours.  I own your socks, your underwear, your towel,
even your fucking toothbrush.  If you ever want to use
any of those things, you will have to beg me for them,
as they are now mine.  And since you aren't allowed to
speak to me unless I ask you a direct question, you
may find that somewhat difficult.


"So what does that mean?  You should assume that
whenever I direct you to do anything, unless I tell
you different, I mean for you to do it bare-ass naked.
 If I say to you `bitch boy, go sit out on the quad,"
and don't tell you anything else, you are gonna go out
the quad wearing nothing but your fucking birthday
suit, and that handsome chastity belt.

"Now, four: I've been a little strapped for cash
lately, but that problem is solved.  When I want money
from you, you're gonna give me some.  You may be
wondering where your gonna get that money.  Well, I'll
tell you: you're gonna get it from a campus job that
I'm gonna find for you.  On Wednesdays and Sundays,
and for other special events, you're gonna work over
at the Frat, like Collin and I agreed.  Otherwise,
your ass is mine.  Whatever I say goes.  And if you
ever try to complain about any of this to another
soul, or to in any way escape from me, ever again, I'm
gonna march downstairs and tell Collin to get you
expelled and arrested.  And before I do that, I'm
gonna punish you again.

"Last, five: you are of course my sex slave.  Whenever
I tell you to, anytime time of day or night, in any
position, for however long, you are gonna suck my
cock.  If I am horny, and I can't find a real bitch to
get me off, you're gonna do instead.  And if I am for
any reason dissatisfied with the blowjob I receive --
if you take too long, or if you go to fast, or if you
gag on my massive cock, or if your teeth ever touch my
dick, or if you ever fail to swallow my cum -- I will
punish you for that.  I also plan on whacking off a
lot in front of you.  I can whack off wherever and
whenever I want.  I can whack off while I'm sitting in
my easy chair with my feet propped up on my new foot
stool.  Every time I whack off, you are gonna watch me
closely, as you sit there, with your tiny little dick
trapped in that cock cage, and you are gonna think
about why you don't deserve to ever stroke your cock
again.  And when I am done, you are gonna lick up my
cum, and thank me for it."

"Do you get all that?"

I stared at him -- or, more precisely, at his shoes.

"I said do you GET all that you little bitch??"

I was totally defeated.  He had me by the balls in
every way.  Even if I hadn't been completely tied up
at his feet, even if I hadn't been locked in the room,
even if my cock hadn't been imprisoned in a tiny
chastity device, even if he hadn't been far stronger
than me and easily capable of subduing me, he still
would have been able to blackmail me into doing
whatever the hell he told me to.

"Yes, sir," I whispered.  "I get it."

He chuckled.  "Aren't you wishing you hadn't
complained about your ipod now?"

I nodded.  "Yes, sir.  I am wishing that, sir."

"Aren't you wishing you had apologized to me when you
had the chance?"

"Yes sir.  I wish I had apologized to you, sir."

"Aren't you wishing you could cum right now?"

"Yes sir.  Very much."

"Well . . ." he shrugged.  "As they say, it's water
under the bridge."  He paused, almost gleeful.  I
could tell he was enjoying every minute of this.
"Would you like me to tell you your first punishment
now, foot stool?"

"Yes sir."


Without further ado, Trevor bent down, lifted the
toilet seat up, and tied the end of the leash to the
toilet seat. He double-knotted it.  He had left a good
amount of slack in the leash, so that I could travel a
radius of about 8 feet from the toilet -- enough to
cover most of the bathroom floor.  Nevertheless, I was
now chained to the toilet until Trevor daned to untie
me.  With my hands still cuffed behind my back, and my
ankles and knees also tied together, there was no way
of escaping.

"Bitch . . . in addition to being my foot stool, you
are also now my toilet slave."  He paused.  "Let me
show you.  Lie on your back directly in front of the
toilet."

He stood there, looking at me, waiting.  Moving
slowly, I managed to scoot my naked body across the
filthy bathroom floor and then lie down directly in
front of the toilet bowl I was now leashed to.
Because of the way my dog collar was chained to the
handcuffs behind me, I couldn't put my head down -- it
was forced into the awkward position of remaining
propped up, so that I was staring down the length of
my body, across my naked torso down to my bound knees
and ankles.  The chain connecting the dog collar and
my handcuffs was biting savagely into my ass now -- I
winced.

"Good," Trevor said.  Without warning, he suddenly
stepped forward and stepped onto me, placing his two
white, high-top tennis shoes firmly on my chest.  I
gasped involuntarily -- the pain was extraordinary.  My
jock roommate, standing 6 and a half feet tall and
weighing probably around 200 pounds (of mostly muscle
mass) was suddenly bearing down on my chest.  I felt
like I was being crushed.

Trevor had a knack, through his bondage, of forcing me
to stare at his feet.  He had tied me to the foot of
his bed so I had no choice but to stare at the soles
of his feet while he slept.  He had chained my dog
collar to the handcuffs behind me, so that I had no
choice but to keep my head permanently bowed and stare
at his shoes while he talked.  And now, with my head
forcibly propped up, I had no choice but to stare
directly at his massive athletic feet, sheathed in big
laced up snakers, clumped down on my chest.  He was
wearing ankle socks -- the only kind of socks frat boys
will wear -- and these socks were so low that both his
big, smooth, masculine, tanned ankles, and ankle
bones, were clearly visible, and indeed directly in
front of me.  They were so close that I could clearly
smell the odor of gym practice -- I remembered that he
had put on dirty socks, and his shoes were smelling
manly and foul.  My mouth started to salivate.  I
suddenly, desperately, wanted him to let me take off
his shoes and lick his feet.  Something about being
stood on top of while I lay, naked, on the filthy
bathroom floor made the whole situation especially
degrading.

"See," Trevor was saying.  "This is the foot stool
part.  And this is the toilet slave part."

While I was lying underneath him, struggling to empty
and fill my lungs under his weight, Trevor unzipped
his crotch and took out his massive, eight inch cock.

"I really need to piss," Trevor announced.  "I've
saving this up for the last 2 hours, just for this.
But today, I'm gonna try something new -- I don't think
I'm gonna use my hands.  Let's see how much I can get
in the toilet bowel."

With a massive fooooosh, Trevor let loose.  A yellow
stream of piss shot out of his dick.  It started out
shooting down into the toilet bowel, but without
Trevor aiming, it quickly strayed off couse
zig-zagging across the toilet seat, shooting down onto
the tiled floor, and then spraying directly onto me --
I felt a warm shower of it sprinkle over my head.
Trevor just stood there, unconcerned, continuing to
piss all over the bathroom floor.

"Huh," he said, as the stream finally slowed to a drip
drop, and few final splashes fell on my heaving chest.
 "Well, a lot of it didn't go in.  Ooops."  He
shrugged, as he stepped off of me.  I heaved a sigh of
relief.

"Get up on your knees," he instructed curtly.
Straining my muscles and wincing with pain, I managed
to wrench my body up, leveraging myself despite the
fact that I couldn't use my hands.  As I knelt there,
Trevor took his big dick and rubbed it against my
hair, wiping away the last remaining drops of piss.

"Good toilet slave," Trevor said.  He reached for the
roll of toilet paper that we had sitting on the window
sill, took it in hand, and held it before my eyes.

"Ya see this?" he demanded.

"Yes sir."

"Well," he smirked, "the thing about toilet slaves is
that when you got one, you no longer need this."  He
suddenly took a step over to the bathroom's tiny
window.  The window was closed, but he cranked it
open, and with one fluid masculine motion, hurled the
toilet paper roll out the window.  Then he cranked the
window shut again.

"Now," he said, "since we're all out of TP, you'll
hafta clean up all my piss up yourself."

I stared at him.

"You deaf or something?  Get to it, toilet slave!  Get
it all up, every last drop -- off the toilet seat, off
the toilet's side, off the floor.  And also make sure
you clean off the drops that landed on my shoes."

"Um . . . yes sir, of course sir.  Could you please
just uncuff my hands and get me a rag sir?"

 "No," he said flatly.  And evil smirk spread across
his face.  "We don't need any of those things as long
as we've got your tongue, bitch boy."

While Trevor stood there, looking on, I bent my head
down to the floor and began to slowly lap up his piss
off the filthy bathroom floor.  Trevor offered helpful
suggestions from behind -- "you missed a drop over
there, lick it up now," "come on, faster, you
piss-licker, I don't have all day!" -- while I worked.
 Finally, when he was satisfied that I had gotten it
all up off the floor and the toilet seat, I put my
nose down to his shoes and licked the tops of his
smelly athletic shoes clean, trying to swish away any
drops of piss that had fallen there.

"Good toilet slave," Trevor finally said.  He looked
at me.  "Well, now since you got practice licking up
that mess, I have a new assignment for your."

"What is it, sir?"

Trevor gestured around at the entire filthy bathroom.
"The whole thing," he said simply.

I stared at him -- or rather, at his shoes.  "Huh?" I
said.

"What part didn't you hear, fuck face?  I want you to
clean up the whole bathroom."

I was stunned.  "With . . . with my tongue?"

"That's right, toilet slave.  Your punishment is that
you are gonna clean this whole filthy fucking
bathroom, using nothing but your cock-sucking mouth.
You are gonna kneel here, chained to the toilet, for
the rest of the weekend.  Whenever I walk into this
bathroom to use the toilet, you are gonna stop what
you are doing, get down on your back in front of the
toilet, and serve as my doormat while I piss or shit.
Whenever I come in here to take a shower, you are
gonna serve as my shower matt, so that my feet stay
clean.  For the rest of the time, whenever I stick my
head in here, I had better see you on your knees,
lapping up bathroom grime.  And I'll tell you what --
if this bathroom isn't totally clean, and I mean
totally fucking pristine, by the time I walk in here
tomorrow morning, then after you're done in here, I'm
gonna make you lick our dorm room floor clean too.
And then, when you're done with that, we'll continue
with your punishment."

Despair welled up in me.  How was I ever going to do
this?  I was going to have to lick down every single
square inch of the bathroom -- the floor, sink, the
shower, the toilet -- everything.  My tongue was
already so dry just from slurping up his piss -- I
desperately needed a drink.  "Please sir," I pleaded.
"Can't I have a little water first?"

"You've got plenty of water," Trevor replied.  He
grinned.  "In there."  He pointed toward the toilet
bowl.

I looked at him.

"But you're not allowed to flush it," he added.  "It's
got my piss in there now, and that's the way I like
it."  He shrugged, and walked over to the door of the
bathroom.  "I gave ya clean water in a nalgene bottle
this morning, cum slut, and you tried to run away.  So
I learned my lesson.  Now it's time for you to learn
yours."  He chuckled one more time.  "I'm gonna go
drinking with my buds.  I imagine I'll see ya later --
beer always makes me piss like a racehorse."  And he
walked out, shutting the bathroom door behind him.


Drop me an email if you like the story at
greg_alexander222@yahoo.com.  I really enjoy hearing from
readers.  Would welcome any ideas you have on where to
take the story from here.

I have gotten a lot busier, so I may not be able to
continue to the story for a while, though there is
definitely much more to come long-term.  But I promise
that if I hear from a bunch of you guys, I will post
at least one or two more chapters this month before
taking a break for a while.