Date: Fri, 2 Mar 2007 03:45:10 -0800 (PST)
From: Greg Alexander <greg_alexander222@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Frat Boy's Bitch Boy" - Part 6

Finally got a chance to post again on this story.
Drop me a line at greg_alexander222@yahoo.com to tell
your thoughts on the story.  Suggestions welcome!

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:

"C'mon," Trevor was saying.  "Let's go grab lunch."

"Wait!"  I cried out desperately.  I knew I was
forbidden to speak unless directly asked a question,
but I couldn't take it anymore.  "Please.  Please,
sir.  I have not complained once about anything for
the entire night, and I haven't complained about being
tied up here.  But I swear I think if you leave that
vibrator on and you don't let me cum, I'm gonna go
crazy."

Trevor stared at me with his cold blue eyes.  "Did I
just hear you speak, maggot?" he asked.

I swallowed and looked down.

"That's what I thought.  But just in case, for good
measure, I'm gonna gag you while your gone."  Trevor
picked up one of his discarded flip flops, which was
lying on the floor next to him.  "Here faggot, open up
wide."  He was still glaring at me.  I complied,
opening my mouth as wide as it would go.  He promptly
jammed his sandle, toe first, into my mouth, toward
the back of my throat.  From the salty taste of the
leather strap and the smell, I could tell Trevor had
worn the flip-flops recently.  If it was possible,
having the sandle in my mouth turned me on still more.

"That's what you get for talking, faggot," Trevor
declared with satisfaction.  "Now, just stay there.
My fucking flip flop better still be right there in
your mouth when you get back.  If I see it on the
floor, I'm gonna punish you again with the paddle."

And with that, grinning broadly, Trevor and Colin left
the dorm, leaving me trussed up, stretched out,
suspended in midair, a vibrator purring next to my
ballsack and rattling my cock cage, a smelly flip-flop
wedged into my mouth.

Chapter 6

By the time they got back, I was a mess.

The vibrations in my cock cage had caused me to
involuntarily squeeze my muscles to pump my cock
harder for god knows how many hours, despite the
worsening ache in my dick that it caused.  Unable to
reach my cock, my pelvis was doing small involuntary
thrusts to try to get relief.  So much pre-cum had
dripped onto the floor that it actually looked like I
had taken a major piss.  And all the while, I was
compelled to bite down on Trevor's salty flip-flop ^Ö
which served only to make the ache in my dick worse.
Meanwhile, my entire torso began to ache, as my body
strained helplessly, unsupported by anything, yet
unable to even sag toward the ground, given how
tightly stretched I was.

When at last the door opened, Trevor and Collin came
in.  One of them was carrying three six packs of
coronas, and the other was carrying a bag of chips and
a box ^Ö I couldn't see what was in the box.  They set
their supplies down next to the chairs, and then came
over to examine me.

Trevor's eyes immediately feel to the floor.  "God!
You're dripping like a leaky faucet. What a fucking
mess," he exclaimed.

"You should make the fag lick that shit up," Collin
suggested.

Trevor said nothing.  Instead, he collapsed down into
one of the big chairs.  ""We gotta watch the game," he
declared.  He reached for the remote, and switched the
TV on.

Collin sat down in the other chair.  The loud sounds
of football filled the dorm room ^Ö the cheering of the
fans, the commentary by the announcers, the high tech
swishing noise of graphics whisking on and off of the
screen.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the
TV ^Ö it looked like the game had just started.

Trevor kicked off his tennis shoes, so that all he was
wearing were his thick white ankle socks.  With my
body still rigidly suspended in midair between the two
stools, Trevor sighed with satisfaction, and abruptly
^Ö in a move that was becoming increasingly familiar to
me ^Ö lifted his legs up into the air, and rested his
feet on my naked back.  I grunted heavily as my torso
bore the brunt of his weight.

"He makes a great foot stool," Trevor was saying, as
he reached for one of the bottles and popped it open.
"Really phenomenal.  You should try it."

"Ok," Collin said, chuckling.  Still wearing his big
flip-flops, he too put his feet on my back, right next
to Trevor's.  This time, I grunted from the combined
strain of their weight.  The flip flop which I was
biting down on in my mouth almost fell out of my
mouth, but I managed to hang on to it.

Trevor reached into his pocket and produced two big,
fat cigars.  "Here, take one.  They're cubans ^Ö my
uncle sent me some," he said, turning to Collin.

Collin grinned.  "Sweeeeet," he murmured, as he lit
up.

"Alright, roommate," Trevor said, after a few minutes,
as they both sat there clenching cigars between their
teeth and smirking at each other. "It's time to start
the game."

I was confused . . . the football game had already
started.

"We figure it's high time you learn a little something
about football," Trevor was explaining.  "And Col and
I are so thoughtful, we've decided to teach you.  So
we're gonna make a little bet."  He took another puff
on his cigar.  "Who do you think is gonna win the game
here, foot slave: the Arizona Cardinals, or the
Indianapolis Colts?"

How the fuck should I know?  I didn't know the first
thing about either team, except that they both
existed.  "Uh . . . I dunno."  I was still clenching
Trevor's flip-flop in between my teeth, so my voice
was muffled.

"Well, you better pick one, or we can't play the
game," Trevor said.  His voice had an obviously fake
friendliness to it ^Ö I figured I better pick a team
fast.

"Uh . . . uh . . . the Arizona Cardinals," I grunted,
still biting down on the flip flop.

Trevor and Collin immediately doubled over and roared
with laughter.

"Holy shit!" Collin exclaimed.  "You're fucking right.
 He doesn't know anything about football."

"I know, man.  It's fucking pathetic."  Trevor puffed
his cigar again.  "You wanna go get the equipment, and
we'll explain how the game works?"

"Sure."  Collin reluctantly pulled his feet off my
back, stood up, went over to the corner of the room,
and returned, carrying what seemed to be a
medium-sized bucket, and a box with a rack of flat,
metallic discs.  They seemed to be lifting weights.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"See," Collin explained.  "Trevor and I want to make
sure we have a good time while we watch the game."  As
he spoke, he took the bucket in his hands.  He stooped
down underneath my taught, tied up body, and set the
pail directly beneath my balls.  For another bizarre
moment, I had the image in my head that I was going to
be milked, like a farm animal.  But instead, Collin
took a length of soft nylon cord.  He looped it
several times around my balls, over and around the
cruel chastity case that incased my dick.  Before he
tightened the rope, he removed (at last) the vibrator,
so that it no longer delivered that agonizing
stimulation to my ball sack.  But they had other
things in mind for me.

Collin yanked the rope tight, so it was squeezing down
on my balls.  Then, he took the other end and looped
it through the handle of the bucket, again and again,
until the bucket was dangling directly below my cock.
Then he tied it again securely.

"There," he said, with satisfaction.  In one more
fluid motion, he placed the box of disc weights on the
floor directly in front of me, so that I was staring
at them.  Then he clambered back into his chair, and
with a sigh of satisfaction, once more placed his
flip-flopped feet on my bare back.

"OK," Trevor said, cigar still in between his teeth.
"So, the rules are pretty simple.  I have a feeling
you'll pick them up pretty quickly as we go along."

I had a bad feeling I already knew how the game was
played, but I was hoping I was wrong.

"Basically, Collin and I are a team, and we're playing
against you.

"Every time our team ^Ö the Colts ^Ö scores against your
team ^Ö the Cardinals ^Ö we get one point.  It's worth
pointing out that the Colts are one of the best teams
in the NFL, and the Cardinals are one of the worst.
But don't worry; maybe the Cardinals are set for a
historic upset."  He chuckled.  "We also earn points
every time something significant happens in the game
that you don't immediately catch on to.  So every time
a team scores, or gets a first down, or anytime
there's a turnover or a timeout, you gotta say what's
just happened right away.

"Oh.  And if that flip flop falls out of your mouth,
we get 5 additional points.  So I wouldn't let that
happen.

"There's not really a way for you to win points."
Trevor puffed his cigar again, and grinned.  "But . .
. ya know.  Try to enjoy the game anyway.

"Let's start!"




Barely two minutes into the game, the Colts wide
receiver caught a ball in the endzone.

"Touch down, colts," I grunted, biting the flip flop.

Trevor and Collin grinned and high-fived each other.
"Yeah!  Point for us!"

Collin stood up and grabbed a one of the round lifting
weights from the box right below my nose.  They seemed
to be all different shapes and sizes ^Ö the one he had
grabbed was comparatively small. "Let's start off
easy," he suggested.  "Just a two and a half pounder."

Trevor shrugged.  "Whatever."

Collin looked at me.  "Now do you see how this game is
played?" he asked.

Unfortunately, I did.

Without further words, he plopped the disc into the
bucket.  Immediately, I felt the weight drag down on
my cock cage, as if someone had taken my ballsack and
yanked on it.  I grunted.  It wasn't painful.  Yet.

Collin and Trevor sniggered.

"The Colts seem to be on fire," Trevor observed.  "I
think we're gonna be scoring a lot of points."

On the screen, they had kicked the extra point.  I
watched, trying not to think about the bucket tied to
my balls.

Collin looked at me, and after a second, smiled.
"Well, the extra point counts as more points.  And
footstool didn't tell us that it happened.  So by my
count, that's two more points for us."

"Hang on," I protested.  "Doesn't the extra point just
get counted in with the touch down?  It's all the same
thing."

Trevor and Collin both snorted with laughter.

"What the fuck," Trevor guffawed.  "The boy bets
against the Colts, but now suddenly he's a football
expert?  Alright, we get three points ^Ö the extra one
is for you contradicting me."

Shit, I thought.

Trevor was getting up this time.  "Alright," he said.
"This time I'm adding heavier weights.  Pass me one of
those coronas Collin, wouldya?"



By halftime, the stack of weights had grown
considerably, and the bucket had 40 pounds in it.  My
balls were absolutely killing me ^Ö I was trying hard
not to think about the overwhelming amount of weight
dangling in mid-air, at that very moment, from my
dick.  It was hard ^Ö and that made it hard to focus on
the game.  And since I didn't know anything about
football, that meant I kept screwing up.

By this point, Trevor and Collin had downed several
coronas each, and were onto their second batch of
Cubans.  They both seemed to be thoroughly enjoying
themselves.

"Man," Trevor said, as he took another gulp.  "Ya
having fun down there, foot stool?"  It sounded like
the beer was starting to have some effect.

"Yes sir," I said meekly, still biting down on the
flip flop.

Collin downed the rest of his beer, slamming the
bottle down onto a table next to his chair when he was
done.  "I don't think the little bitch looks like he's
having a good time," he declared, licking his lips.
"It fucking pisses me off.  Here we are, having a
perfectly good afternoon, kicking back, enjoying
ourselves, and your roommate's lookin' all down and
gloomy."

Trevor was egging him on.  "Yeah, yeah man.  You're
right."

The beer was definitely starting to show.

"I bet I can make him laugh," Collin said suddenly.

"No fucking way, dude."

"I totally can."  Collin stood suddenly.  He walked
around behind me, so that he was staring at the soles
of my feet.

The chain threaded between the two stools, connecting
my handcuffs to my ankle-cuffs, was still absolutely
taught ^Ö my entire body felt like it was on fire.  I
couldn't move ^Ö I was literally wracked between two
stools, and now that my rigid body was supporting
forty pounds of weight that was pulling down on my
ballsack, the pain was intense.   I wondered with
dread what could possibly be coming next.

"So . . ."  Collin said from behind me, a mischievous
smirk in his voice.  "Are your feet ticklish?"

Trevor snorted with laughter at this.

I shuddered.  My feet, in fact, had always been
oversensitive.  I used to have an older brother ^Ö when
we were younger, sometimes when he wanted me to buzz
off and leave him alone, he would threaten to pin me
down and tickle my feet.  It always worked ^Ö I was
absolutely terrified of being pinned down, totally
helpless, while someone wiggled their fingers around
on my naked soles.  The few times my brother had
actually carried out his threat, I had just about
died.

And now, here I was, strung out, totally helpless, my
feet exposed to the mercy of Collin.

"You're gonna want to try not to wiggle around too
much," Collin advised me from behind.  "With so much
weight strapped to your dick, it's probably gonna be
pretty painful to have that bucket swinging around too
much."

Trevor, still sitting in his chair his feet propped up
on my back, puffing on his cigar, chuckled at that.

Collin started to poke the soles of my feet with his
finger tips.  I tried desperately to yank my feet
away, but of course it did no good ^Ö with my ankle
cuffs so tightly immobilized, I had to just hang there
and take it.  My fleet flopped back and forth
futilely.

Collin, encouraged, stepped up the pace.  His fingers
began to attack my soles vigorously, eagerly seeking
out my most vulnerable spots.  He soon found out what
they were: the areas between my toes.  Before long, he
was using his strong jock hands to ruthlessly attack
there, prying my toes back with one hand while he went
to work with the other.

I lost control.  My body twisted violently from side
to side as I writhed and squirmed, thrashing uselessly
against my bondage.  As Collin has predicted, of
course, this caused the bucket strung to my balls to
sway more and more from side to side, like a weighed
down pendulum.  The pain in my ballsack only
intensified, but there was nothing I could do.

Involuntary laughter began to jet out of my mouth.

"Please . . . stooppppp!!!" I gasped, in between fits
of laughter.  The unbearable ticklishness of my feet,
combined with the searing pain on my ballsack, was way
more than I could take.  As I panted and shrieked, I
felt the flip-flop still in my mouth slipping away.  I
tried to hang on with my teeth, but I was laughing too
hard to bite down firmly.

The flip-flop fell to floor.

Trevor suddenly doubled over with laughter.  "He
dropped the fucking flip-flop!" he said.  "The little
bitch dropped the fucking flip-flop."

I stared at Trevor's sandle, now lying on the floor
down below my face.  Fuck, I thought again.

Collin had stopped tickling my feet.  "Ya think he
remembers what the penalty for that was?"

"I dunno.  Let's ask him," Trevor said.  "Bitch boy?"

"You get five extra points . . . sir," I said, with a
sigh.

"That's right," Trevor said with a grin.  "Whatya
think, Col?  Should we add 5 more 5 pound disks?  Or
should we go easier on the poor fucker?"

"I say put in the 5 pound disks.  You told the little
foot stool not to drop it."

Trevor looked straight at me.  "What do you think,
foot stool?"

I swallowed.  "Please don't add any more weight, sir.
I'm so sorry I dropped the flip-flop, sir, I couldn't
help it.  It won't happen again sir."

"Hmmm, that's pretty good," Trevor said with a yawn.
"But I really think you should beg and grovel a little
bit more if you don't want us to put in five new
disks."

"Make him lick your feet clean, dude," Collin
suggested.

Trevor shrugged.  "He's already done that a lot man."

"Well then make him clean mine," Collin said.  He
sounded eager.

Trevor shrugged again.  "Why not?"

"This is the best halftime show ever," Collin said
with a sigh.  He rotated the stools around 90 degrees,
so that I was now staring away from the TV screen,
with my feet toward it.  He pushed me a foot or so to
the side, so that I was positioned directly in front
of his chair.  Then he climbed back into his chair,
kicked his life-guard flip-flops off, and stuck his
massive bare feet directly into my face.

"Now," he said.  "Lick them clean.  Totally clean."

"And you better look like you fucking want `em, too,"
Trevor added.  "I want you to lick `em like they're
fucking lollipops, or I'm gonna put in the weights."

The smell of male feet was once again overpowering ^Ö
and even with 40 pounds pulling down on my ballsack,
as I inhaled, I felt my dick, already so desperately
eager to erupt in a shower of cum, getting even
harder.  I began to lick, and lick ^Ö his feet were
dirty, and sweaty.  The more I lapped at them, the
more blinding my need to cum became.

"Whatya think, Trev," Collin said after a while.  "Ya
think he's licking `em up like a good foot slave?"

"Yeah." Trevor smirked, and cracked open another beer.
 "But I think we should still put in 5 more weights."

Collin seemed surprised.  "Why?"

Trevor shrugged yet again.  "Because we can," he said.
 And he stood up, reaching for the box of weights.

Staring at him with a combination of horror and
surprise, I had stopped licking the soles of Collin's
feet.

Trevor stared at me.  "Did we tell you to stop licking
his feet?" he asked me.

"Uh . . . no sir," I stammered.

"So you just disobeyed us."

"Uh . . . no sir . . ."

"And you just contradicted me."

I swallowed hard.  "I'm sorry sir," I choked.  "You're
right sir.  I deserve to be punished sir."

I kept licking Collin's feet.  He was laughing now,
hard.  He wiggled his toes in front of me.  "Don't
forget to lick the little spaces between my toes!" he
exclaimed gleefully.

As I hastened to obey, I could feel Trevor dropping
five more disks into the bucket ^Ö each one thudded
down with a sickening clank.  The strain on my
ballsack became more and more intense, and the bucket
sunk closer and closer to the floor, with each
successive weight added.

"Sixty five pounds now," Trevor said with a whistle
when he had finished.  "That's fucking intense."

"The game's starting back up," Collin said with a lazy
smirk.  He was still wiggling his toes as I now licked
the lint out from in between them.




Behind me, I heard the noise of football coming back
on.

"Alright," Trevor said, looking at me.  "Ready to keep
playing our game?"

I didn't want to argue with him.  "Uh . . . of course
sir," I said, wincing from the agony in my ballsack.
"Perhaps you could simply turn me around sir, so I can
see the TV?"

Trevor cocked his head to one side.  "What do you
think, Col?"

"No way dude," Collin said with a grin.  "The fag
makes an even better foot-licker than he did
foot-stool."

"Alright, slave," Trevor said.  "You heard the man.
Keep licking.  You're just gonna have to listen to the
game real carefully.  Cuz if you miss anything
important . . ." He trailed off.  There was no need to
finish the sentence as he glanced at the box of
weights on the floor.

The box was only half empty.



"Touch-down!  Colts"

"Field Goal, Colts!"

"Cardinals fumble.  Colts take possession!"

"First down, Colts!"

>From time to time, I would exhale these updates as I
gritted my teeth in agony.  I could only hear what the
announcers loudly and cheerfully said, and did my best
to relay that on to Trevor and Collin.  Usually I
picked up on what was going on fast enough.  Sometimes
I didn't.  From what I could gather, the Cardinals ^Ö
my team ^Ö were being massacred.  And so were my
testicles.

By the end of the game, I had lost track of both the
score, and the amount of weight my ballsack was
bearing.  All I knew is that both figures were grimly
high.

By the time Trevor switched off the TV set, I was
desperate for some relief.

"So I bet you want me to take out those weights," he
said, crossing his arms in front of me and grinning
that evil little smirk so chillingly familiar to me by
now.

"Yes . . .sir," I whimpered.

"OK."  He took a step forward, then another step.  In
one fluid motion, to my surprise, he unbuckled his
belt, and then smoothly whipped off his jeans.
Without skipping he beat, he dropped his boxers as
well.  Now his muscular legs were completely bare . .
. and his cock was visible.  In spite of everything, I
stared at it; he was hard as a rock, and his big fat
cock seemed to almost throb with the flushness of his
erection.

Off to the side, I heard Collin whistle, obviously
impressed.

"Alright," Trevor said.  "You want us to take out the
weights?  Suck my cock, bitch."

With that, he straddled me, so that his muscular frame
loomed over my prostrate tied down body, and his legs
squeezed up against the outsides of my outstretched
arms.  With a cruel recklessness, he lowered himself
heavily onto my forearms.  His bare ass thudded down
onto my elbows, and I winced at the new surge of pain
^Ö my taut arms, still frozen in place over the stool,
were not equipped to take the full weight of Trevor.

Now his enormous cock was merely inches from my face.
In spite of everything, I found the sight of his fully
erect dick to be even more of a turn-on.  Trevor's
bondage ^Ö creative as ever ^Ö had not only immobized my
body, but also my head and neck, so that I could
barely tilt, pitch or rock my head around by anymore
than half a degree.  My face was right there.  I was
trapped, at the mercy of Trevor's cock.

But of course, he wanted me to beg.  Again.

"Beg me to let you suck my cock," Trevor said with a
grin.  He waved his dong around enticingly in front of
my eyes.

I could tell the absolute truth.  "Please, " I choked,
"please.  I want to suck your dick, sir.  Please let
me suck your dick."

Trevor scooted up closer to my face, so that I could
practically smell the precum oozing out of his piss
slit.  Then, unexpectedly, his hand shot out, and he
slapped me across the face, hard.

"Not good enough, bitch," he grunted.  He turned to
Collin.  "Maybe the fucking cum slut wants to be tied
up here for the rest of the day."

"Yeah," Collin said with a laugh.  "Maybe we should
see how far his scrotum can stretch!"  He was looking
at the bucket, which had by this point sunk so far
down toward the ground, from the weight, that my
ballsack was indeed looking terrifyingly elastic.

Fear welled up inside me.

"PLEASE, SIR, PLEASE!" I said, my voice desperate.
"Please, I have to suck your cock.  Please let me suck
your cock!!  I'll do anything if you'll let me suck
your cock."

"Alright," he finally said.  He scooted forward yet
again, so that his ballsack was now shoved up against
my face.  His pubic hair tickled my nose and my chin,
and his cock now completely dominated my field of
vision.

"First, lick my balls," he ordered me.  As I complied,
he reached for another beer, and popped it open.

Trevor's balls tasted slightly salty and unwashed . .
. the smell of cum was particularly pungent.  As I
licked and licked, lapping at his balls like a hungry
puppy, Trevor let out a sigh of pleasure.  "Nothing
beats having your own live-in cocksucker," he said
with a chuckle, as he drank his beer.

"My turn next," Collin said, with a touch of envy.

As I licked, my tongue was getting more and more dried
out, and I found I was craning my neck.  After what
felt like almost 20 minutes of this, I finally took a
breath and stopped, refreshing myself before I
continued.

Trevor didn't even pause to look down at me.  "Collin,
add another weight to the bucket."

"Why?" Even Collin seemed surprised.

"Because my little cock slut just stopped licking my
ball sack."

"I'm sorry sir!  I was just taking a momentary break."

Now Trevor looked down at me.  "Did I tell you that
you could take a break?"  His voice was calm, relaxed.

"No sir."

"OK.  Collin, add two weights.  God, slave, you are so
fucking stupid.  How many times will I have to punish
you before you stop arguing with me?"  He pushed
himself still further forward and rocked backward, so
that now my nose was practically sticking straight
into his ass hole.  "Now, lick my ass."

As I continued to lick, I felt Collin slip two more
disks into the bucket tied to my ballsack.  Tears
welled up in my eyes.  The pain was even worse now.
But I didn't dare stop.


His ass crack smelled even more strongly, but I licked
it clean all the same.  I heard Trevor grunt with
satisfaction as my tongue darted in and out, lapping
around his butt hole.  I began to feel as if I'd been
doing this forever.

Finally, to my relief, Trevor rocked his body back
forward.

"Alright, cock slut," he told me.  "I'm so fucking
horny.  Now, you do a good job ^Ö give me the blow job
I deserve ^Ö and I'll take half the weight out of the
bucket.  Give Collin here a second awesome blow job,
and we'll take the rest out, maybe even untie you for
a while.  Who knows?  Maybe we'll even think about
maybe letting you cum, if you ask us real real nice."
He laughed.  "Unlikely.  But who knows?  Maybe we'll
be feeling especially generous.  So don't fuck up."
With that, he shoved his dick forcefully into my
mouth.

I lapped at his ramrod cock with my tongue, trying to
please him.  I moistened my dry mouth, swallowing his
inflamed cock-head.  Trevor, still straddling my
outstretched, totally taut arms, began to plunge his
long juicy man stick in and out of my mouth,
propelling himself in and out with his powerful
masculine hips, naked and thrusting in front of my
eyes.  As he became more and more inflamed, his
thrusts grew more and more violent, until he was
crashing his pelvis into my face with each movement,
paying no regard whatsoever for my own severe
discomfort.  His massive cock slammed into the back of
my throat repeatedly.

This was more violent than my last forced oral sex
session had been ^Ö whether because he was deliberately
putting on a show for Collin, or because this was just
another part of my "punishment week," or for his other
perverse reasons, Trevor seemed bent on face fucking
me, and on making my forced blow job as uncomfortable
as humanly possible.  I felt my gag reflex kicking in,
but I had nowhere to go ^Ö my face was frozen in place,
and I was incapable of doing anything other than lying
there, strung up taught between two stools, while
Trevor went at me.  As I felt myself gagging on his
cock, Trevor, as if sensing this, pushed himself still
further toward me, so that he was now completely
mashed up against my face.  He shifted his knees
forward so that he was able to actually hold my head
in the vice-like grip between his knee-caps.

"Collin," I heard him say, as if from very far away.
"Do you want to tickle his feet?"

They both laughed at that.

"I'm serious," Trevor said, still guffawing.  "I want
to see what happens if you tickle the little fucker's
feet while he sucks me off."

They found this a hilarious idea.  As I continued to
suck on Trevor's dick (I didn't dare stop, even for a
second) I heard Collin position himself behind me.  As
he set to work, once again, on the soles of my feet,
my entire body went rigid with laughter.  With what
must have been 100 pounds dangling from my ballsack,
this was an excruciating sensation ^Ö but I couldn't
help it.

"Suck my dick.  Suck my dick, bitch!"

Somehow, fear allowed me to keep servicing Trevor's
cock.  As he thrust back and forth into my mouth ^Ö as
I felt myself on the constant verge of gagging ^Ö
Collin attacked in between my toes with relish.  I
thought I would go insane.  It was just to much; too
many different humiliations at once.

Then, suddenly:

"I'm gonna cum!"  Trevor's whole body stiffened.
"Swallow it, bitch boy!" he shouted at the top of his
lungs.  "Take my fucking load.  Take it all!"

He thrust into my mouth, and a geyser of hot cum
spurted like a fire hose down my throat.  The cum kept
flowing.  I held my breath, and swallowed, and
swallowed, and swallowed.

When Trevor at last was spent, his body slumped limply
in front of my face, and his dick, now soft, slipped
gently out my mouth.  He was breathing hard, like he
had just worked out, and sweating.

"Oh man," he said to Collin with an exhausted grin.
"Forget rooming with jocks from now on.  I'm gonna
room with this little cocksucker for the next three
years of college!"

"Let me trade with you, man," Collin said.  "Now I'm
fucking horny."

"Alright, alright, in one sec."

Collin shifted impatiently, as he began to unbuckle
his pants.  "Why one sec?"

Trevor was still straddling my arms.  He leaned back,
folded his hands behind his head, and grinned with
relaxation. "Cuz I've had about 5 beers, and now that
I've shot my load, I gotta piss."  He looked straight
at me.  "OK, bitch boy, open your mouth again."

Drop me a line at greg_alexander222@yahoo.com if you
like the story,
have ideas about where to go with it, etc.