Date: Tue, 29 Nov 2016 04:38:13 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hank M <redbeardedsf (at) yahoo.com>
Subject: INDENTURED STEPSON, Ch. 3

INDENTURED STEPSON
By Master Redbeard r=e=d=b=e=a=r=d=e=d=s=fat y=a=h=o=o=dot com

This is gay slave fiction set in a society where it's legal to enslave
young men for sexual purposes. If you're underage to read such a story, go
away. If you live in a jurisdiction where you cannot legally read such a
story, go away and try to move to another jurisdiction. If sex between
males or anything else in this story offends you, what are you doing on
this website to begin with? And if you cannot differentiate between fantasy
and reality, go away now and get some help.

THE STORY: Lucas graduated from high school and came home to find his
mother was sent to rehab and his stepfather and two stepbrothers have
enslaved him. (Cinderella as gay slave fiction!) After enduring sex and
humiliation from his stepfamily and others, Slave Luke will serve as
slaveboy to his younger stepbrother (the same school from which Lucas just
graduated) where he will suffer further degradation.

PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY! If you enjoy this story, ask yourself: Where would
you find this story if not for Nifty.org?

# # #

CHAPTER 3: LUKE GOES BACK TO SCHOOL

I graduated from Academy of St. Sebastian as Lucas DeWinter, with highest
honors and the award for Athlete of the Year. I was well-liked by the
faculty and admired by classmates. I knew the grounds well, having lived
there for four years. But now just a few months later I returned as
Slaveboy Luke, wearing only a slavejock and packed in a cage along with
Cameron's other luggage.

When my cage was hoisted off the truck and dragged indoors, it was hard to
get an orientation of where I was. But when the cage was opened, I eased
myself out and found I was in a room in Guilded Hall, the most expensive
and exclusive of all the housing on campus. Even I hadn't lived in this
lavish building.

Cameron ordered me to unpack his things as he lounged on his bed, waiting
for his roommate. He left the door of the room open so anyone passing in
the hallway could look in and see the naked slave hurrying around, putting
away shirts, pants, underwear and socks. One boy came in to introduce
himself and compliment Cam on his slaveboy's "beautiful butt" (his
words). I heard a gasp as I turned around and the visitor in the room said,
"Hot damn, is that Lucas? That boy was the star athlete of the school last
year."

Cam sighed and casually said, "His slave name is Luke."

Of course I couldn't respond. I just kept my head down and put away my
stepbrother's extensive wardrobe. I heard Cam recounting the whole story
about how I was his new stepbrother and his father had to indenture me
(though reasons why he "had to" eluded me). Cam liked to repeat that story,
as if he had done something to be proud of.

"Can I feel his ass?" the visitor asked breathlessly.

I had to stop what I was doing to take slave display position and let this
younger teen fondle and then smack my exposed butt cheeks. As that was
going on, Cameron's roommate arrived and gave a loud greeting. "I was away
all summer, but my brother told me all about this. I had to see it for
myself."

When I looked up I saw that Cam's roommate was Ian, the younger brother of
my best school buddy, Carl. Like any big brother and his friend, Carl and I
had tormented Ian over the years. Now Ian seemed thrilled at his chance for
revenge, and was especially interested in the opportunity to spank my
exposed butt. I had to lay across his lap with my ass up in the air and
thank the younger boy for each smack across my bottom. By the time his hand
was raw, his dick was leaking in his pants. He whipped it out and shoved it
into my mouth. I didn't even have to suck on it that first time, since the
teenage boy immediately started shooting his load of cream down my throat.

Naturally enough, Ian and all the other boys in the dorm wanted to be
friends with my obnoxious little stepbrother. Cameron was so popular
because he would only let his so-called "friends" play with his slaveboy. I
couldn't keep track of the number of blow jobs I gave each week. Some of
them were fast, especially for younger boys who would just stick their
dicks in and shoot. But some boys wanted to lean back and get their dicks
serviced long and slow. Peyton, the boy who'd been my rival at school,
liked to lie back nude on Cameron's bed and use my mouth for an hour at a
time.

It was obvious to me that my stepbrother Cameron was gay. He always told
boys that he had to check on how his slaveboy was performing, and to make
sure his father's big financial investment wasn't being compromised in any
way. That was the excuse Cam used for why he had to stay and watch whenever
I serviced other boys, and somehow he always got them to strip bare
naked. All the senior jocks found their way to my stepbrother's room, and
all of them dutifully stripped down so they could fuck my face. Didn't
those macho boys care that my twerpy queer stepbrother was jerking off and
looking at them?

Peyton was the first of the St. Sebastian boys permitted to use my ass. He
didn't mind Cam watching. In fact, he liked doing it where other boys could
watch. Cameron once delivered me to the boys' locker room, where Peyton
tugged down my slavejock, bent me over a bench, and rammed his long stiff
cock into me with one thrust. He fucked me a long time, dripping sweat on
my back, as the other boys lined up to use my mouth. Of course, Cam stayed
watching and jerking off throughout.

Cam also let his roommate Ian fuck my ass, though the younger boy was
clumsy and always shot off very fast once he was inside me. Ian's brother,
Carl, who used to be my closest friend at school, came up to visit his kid
brother often. (I hadn't remembered the two brothers being so close). I
think he really came up just to use my ass. Sometimes he would be nasty to
me, sometimes he would be tender. But he never acknowledged that we had
once been buddies.

# # #

Then there was the time Cameron was going on a field trip and asked Coach
Taylor if he could leave me in the gym while he was gone for the day. On
his way out the door, my younger stepbrother told the school's athletic
director, "Please use the slaveboy in any way you'd like, Coach. Treat him
like he's your own. Only don't leave any marks, please."

The Coach circled me and looked me over in the oddest way. Then he put an
arm around my shoulder and led me through the empty locker room to his
mezzanine-level office. I had been up in his office before, but had never
faced this direction, looking down with a clear view across the whole
locker room.

He ordered me to take down my slavejock, saying, "You don't belong in
that." Then he handed me one of the school jockstraps. It was well-worn and
stained, but was tight on me, barely containing my thick dick. Then he
handed me a baseball uniform. I looked at the number and realized this had
been my uniform the previous year. I dressed eagerly, catching site of
myself in a mirror and admiring the way I looked like the free boy I once
was.

But then the Coach pressed his body into my back. He was a big, powerful
man, with broad shoulders and an impressive chest. I felt the strength of
his body press into my smaller form, then I felt his hard-on grinding
against my ass. He reached one hand up under the front of my baseball shirt
and pinched my nipples. His tongue was licking at my neck, and he chuckled
softly, "If I had done this just a few months ago, I'd not only lose my job
I'd be enslaved for molesting a free boy. But you're a slaveboy now,
Luke. You sure as hell look just like that free boy Lucas who used to hang
out here, heheh."

With that he pushed me forward over the counter that faced the large
window. I was looking down on the locker room below just as the bell rang
and a gym class let out. the boys were pulling off their gym clothes as
they ran in, but I didn't recognize any. I quickly figured out these were
new students who had just started at St. Sebastian. Some of them were
relaxed about stripping naked and heading for the showers. But many of them
were shy, covering themselves with towels before they pushed down their
underpants.

Coach pulled down just the back of my baseball uniform pants. Since I was
only wearing a jockstrap under the uniform, my butt was fully exposed. I
felt his greased-up finger plunge into me quick and hard. I gasped. Then he
pulled out his finger and pressed his thick cock head against my
hole. Gripping my hips firmly, he slammed his cock all the way into my ass
in one smooth move.

He was ramming my bottom like a cowboy rides a bronco. Each time he shoved
forward, I felt like my insides were being punched. I was fully dressed,
except the back of the baseball pants were tugged down just below my
buttcheeks. Coach was feeling me up through the sports uniform, and keeping
up a running dialogue about the boys below. "Look at the ass on that little
blond over there." (I had no idea which blond boy he was referring to.)
"Look how round and smooth that butt is. I wonder if he's going to be bent
over this counter in a couple years, taking my fat cock up that sweet,
tight ass."

I couldn't help but wonder if Coach had thought those same pervy thoughts
about me when I had been a freshman, undressing in that same locker room. I
realized my face was on the counter, almost pressed against the
window. There were layers of stains on the counter, some of them old and
some of them fresh. It was easy to figure out that these were cum stains
left by the coach. I looked down and saw that the coach had a direct view
to my former locker. I saw a dark-haired boy bend over as he pulled down
his briefs, displaying his bare butt. I knew I had done the same in that
exact spot. I wondered which of these cum stains happened as the coach was
watching me bend over and imagining what it would be like to be inside my
ass.

The boys below us were cleaned, dressed and gone, and Coach was still
fucking me in the bottom. Even though he was feeling me up through these
clothes, his hands were groping and jabbing into my flesh. He was still
fucking me when a new group of boys came into the locker room and started
undressing to change into their gym clothes. I recognized most of these
boys. This was a junior class, the boys taller, more filled out, fewer of
them shy about stripping down. I recognized some boys I had mentored when
they were freshmen.

As my mind was wandering, Coach grunted deep and slammed in harder than
ever. I felt his cock pulsating in my guts, filling me up with cream.

Of course Coach couldn't hand me over to the students for them to have sex
with me. Although everyone knew that boys at the school stuck their dicks
into the many slaveboys on campus, it was officially against school
rules. And besides, I had been loaned to the Coach so he couldn't take the
risk of me getting marked up.

But at the end of the next class period, Coach stripped me to a jockstrap
and sent me down to the locker room to hand out towels as boys exited the
showers. The school rule was that boys had to strip totally bare, then lock
up all their clothes in their lockers, and then walk naked to the
showers. Boys were only given towels to cover themselves after they
finished showering. I remember how daunting this seemed when I was a
freshman -- that period of time when I couldn't hide a boner. I know that
many times I had boned up just because I was nervous just knowing I was
exposed.

Of course, the Coach was the one who made that rule about nudity in the
locker room. Now I looked up toward the Coach's mezzanine office. I knew he
was jacking off and watching the whole scene, all the naked boys
surrounding me, groping me, fondling me, humiliating me. One boy reached
into my worn jockstrap and grabbed my balls with one hand and my dick with
his other and just tugged so hard I had to bend over. The boys behind him
laughed. Then it became a challenge for boys to try to humiliate me and
make me react.

This was the last period of the day, so the boys were in no hurry. I saw a
blond boy I remembered from a few years earlier. When he had been a
freshman, bigger boys picked on him. I stood up for him and promised to
protect him if anybody ever teased him again. Nothing ever came of it. As
far as I knew he got along fine from that point forward.

When he stood in front of me and I handed him a towel, he grinned at me
with a look of recognition. Nobody was going to pick on this boy now. He
had grown at least 6 inches taller, and had a broad chest that showed
results of working out and hard sports. He grinned at me and snapped, "Turn
around, slaveboy, and grab your ankles."

Of course I had to do what he said. He pushed an index finger into my
mouth. I knew what was coming. His finger then went into my butthole. I had
expected he would work his way into my hole, but he just rammed the full
length of his finger into me. I cried out, then caught my breath. His naked
buddy behind him in line slapped his back and said, "Good going, dude."

The blond responded, "When this hunk of slaveflesh comes on the market, my
dad promised me enough money to buy him. I don't care if he's not
cherry. I'll use this slaveboy's hole round the clock." Then he moved on
and made way for the next naked boy in line to humiliate me.



# # #

Soon after that there was an evening when Cameron dressed me in my free boy
boxer shorts and dropped me off at the headmaster's house. I didn't know
what the arrangement was, but the older man told my young stepbrother to
pick me up the following morning after breakfast. I stood at slave display
position as the man felt me up and admired my exposed body. He reached down
into the back of my boxers and moaned as he squeezed my hairless cheeks.

There were many rumors about the headmaster. Most of the boys believed he
was a homo and that he perved on the boys at the school. There were wild
stories about things he had supposedly done to young students in the
past. But they all sounded pretty outlandish. Any one of them could have
gotten him fired and sent to prison. But now he had me stripped to a pair
of boxer shorts and I was a slaveboy, so he had the right to use me however
he liked.

He was a very large man, well over 6 feet tall and rotund, actually round
in the middle. He wore a brocade smoking jacket that exposed the thick
thatch of black hair on his chest. His hands were instantly all over me as
soon as Cameron left. And he was kissing my face, but using so much tongue
it was like he was slobbering on me. He grunted, "I've always liked you so
well, Luke. One of the cutest boys we've had at St. Sebastian. And the way
your narrow hips and round cheeks moved in those school trousers..." He
gripped at my butt through the fabric of my boxers. "And now I get to feel
them up through your free boy underpants, Luke."

His idea of a hot time started with a long moist make-out session. His
kisses were sloppy and open-mouthed. My face was wet from his slobber. His
hands were all over me. He didn't try to remove my boxers, but he kept
reaching inside them to fondle my dick, rub my balls, squeeze and massage
my butt, and finger my crack. At least he wasn't brutal, he didn't need to
smack me around to get his pleasure.

Suddenly he had me do chores for him: fetch his pipe, get the matches,
bring the brandy. He just sat and smiled and fiddled with his cock through
the smoking jacket. "I like seeing you walk around in your own boxer
shorts, Luke. Sometimes when I was called into the dorms later in the
evening, I would see you boys hanging out and walking around in just
underpants. I remember how cute you looked in your little tighty whities
when you first got here, Luke. But then in the upper grades, most of you
boys switch to boxers. Oh well, the beautiful curve of your ass always
looked enticing, even in boxers, Lukie." The man was showing signs of heavy
drinking.

He pushed me to my knees and pushed my face into the crotch of his black
satin pants. They were pulled down far enough so the man's thick fireplug
cock and his heavy balls were sticking out. His junk was displayed in a
thatched nest of dark hairs. Even with all my cocksucking experience, I
wasn't used to one as thick as this. My jaws ached as I sucked up and
down. His hand rested gently on my head.

The headmaster let out a contented sigh and said, "I suppose you heard all
the rumors about nasty things I've done to boys in the school?" I paused in
sucking and he lifted my head to face him. "You're a slaveboy. You have to
tell me the truth."

I mumbled, "yes, sir. I'm sorry sir. I didn't repeat any of them, sir."

He chuckled and asked me to recite one for him. I flushed and said, "Well
some guys were saying that... well, that you used to have a freshmen,
sir... I mean, there was a freshmen boy who was on scholarship. But that
part of his scholarship was..." I shook my head and said, "I'm sorry,
sir. A slaveboy shouldn't talk this way about a free man."

For the first time he sounded cross with me as he said, "I order you to
tell the truth."

My hand was lightly stroking his thick erection, sliding easily because I
had left so much saliva on the foreskin. "Well, sir, the boys said that for
the scholarship that freshmen boy had to go to your house for an hour once
a week. Some guys claimed they knew that you did certain... ummmm, sex
things to that boy."

He chuckled softly to himself. Then said, "Tell me another one."

I'd heard so many, I tried to sort through them. "Well, the one that says
there was a senior boy caught cheating. That he'd been accepted to a
military academy, which was always his dream. But if you reported that he
cheated, that would break the school's honor code and he couldn't
attend. He was willing to do anything if you'd keep the secret...."

I suppose I paused too long, because the headmaster said, "This sounds like
a doozy. I wanna hear what I supposedly did to that senior."

I gulped. "Well, the story goes that you took him away someplace for a
weekend, and that you treated him like he was a total naked slaveboy, sir."
The man's fat cock was dripping now. "I heard another version that says you
brought this free boy to a party with another ten... um, ten men... and
they all had sex with him. And then that he went on to the military academy
and is a respected high-ranking officer now." (I had caught myself before
saying, "ten homos."

With that the man grabbed my ears and I was once again impaled on his
cock. This time he pushed down firmly on the back of my head, as his broad
hips lifted up off the sofa and shoved even more of his cock into my
throat. I felt the thick rod get even thicker and filling my mouth fully. I
felt it shoot out a load of hot cream that blasted into the back of my
throat.

The big man's pendulous weight was then pressing on top of me as his whole
body spasmed along with his cock. Then he started to fall asleep with me in
his sweaty arms. I was forced to inhale his vile underarms. Under his
breath, he muttered, "Once you go on sale, Luke, I will put in a bid for
you... then you can remain at St. Sebastian for a very long time..." He let
out a soft chuckle and added, "And maybe then I would tell you which of
those stories is true."

Eventually I started to get used to the large man's aroma and even the feel
of his slippery sweat. Then I was able to fall asleep. But I shook myself
awake when I thought, "I could do worse than being bought by the
headmaster. He may be gross, but at least he is gentle with me." I sat bolt
upright then and realized: Just a few months ago, I used to be a free boy,
the top athlete at this school. Now I'm a cumdump for this big hairy man
who runs things. How far had I sunk? Far enough to think that this sweaty
fat man would be a good master to me.

Then the real horror set in: I realized that the headmaster talked about my
sale as if it were a done deal. Was it possible there was already a date
set for an auction? I froze at the thought. That would mean for sure I was
no longer a short-term slaveboy. I could be purchased and shipped anywhere
in the world. I'd heard about boy brothels in Africa where they paid a lot
to abuse a white American boy like me.

# # #

Master Redbeard r=e=d=b=e=a=r=d=e=d=s=f at y=a=h=o=o dot com