Date: Wed, 2 Jun 2010 10:13:44 +0300
From: Mike May <mmay4096@gmail.com>
Subject: Master's Boy and the College Kids

Categories: gay male, authoritarian, college

Mike May <mmay4096@gmail.com>


Master's Boy and the College Kids

I knew I had an attitude problem about the whole thing. It was
supposed to be a party and I was supposed to have a good time, but I
couldn't have cared less. Master had said that he was going to go to
Drew's to watch a movie. All I wanted was to cuddle next to him and
have his arms around me, or maybe his cock in my mouth. Maybe even his
friends' cocks, if I was lucky. Instead, Master had ordered me to go
to this college kid party. He'd been saying that I should get to know
my class mates and other college kids now that I was in college. I
really didn't think so. I went to class with them, but why should that
mean that I had to talk to them? I was the same age as them, but they
all seemed like they were freaking twelve years old. Some of them had
never even been laid, and all they did was whine about it. I suppose
not everyone can find themselves a Master when they're sixteen like I
had, and I suppose it was sad for them, but why the fuck did I need to
hear about it? Then there was the fact the half of them were
girls. The party house was packed with them, and I was getting cunt
poisoning just from breathing the air.

The one openly gay guy in the place was this overweight queen who wore
some pink gay rights slogan T-shirt and freaking make-up on his
face. The bitch went on and on about some gay students' group on
campus and annoyed the piss out of everyone. Luckily my outfit seemed
to scare him away from me. I wear what Master tells me to wear every
day. I couldn't believe the amount of time some of the kids spent
picking clothes for themselves. Anyway, I guess Master got a kick out
of me looking like a schoolboy when I started college. He'd had me put
on baggy jeans, sneakers, a hoodie and a baseball-style cap every day,
and he'd told me to carry my stuff in a backpack. He'd let my hair
grow too, until I had these big curls on my head. I have perfect,
smooth baby skin, and I think my face is cute when the head is shaved,
but the curls had made me look like I was twelve years old
myself. Master had always done the hair thing, though. He'd shave my
head completely and then let it grow for months until he got fed up
with the curls, then he'd shave it again. I'd only been allowed to
wear some boots instead of the sneakers and a leather jacket instead
of a lighter fabric one once it got too cold to ride the bike without
them. Unfortunately the campus was not on Master's way to work, so on
most days I'd had to ride my own bike instead of getting to be a
passenger on his bike and put my arms around him for the ride.

This afternoon he didn't shave my entire head. Instead he gave me a
very closely cropped mohawk strip that ran from my neck to my
forehead, and long, narrow, neatly trimmed sideburns, that didn't
connect with my hair as the sides of my head above them were
completely shaved. He'd never done anything like it before, but I
instantly loved the look. Then he told me to wear the tightest black
leather jeans he had for me, a wide black leather belt with a big
steel buckle, combat boots, a tight dark blue tank top and wide
leather wristbands. He also had me put on my nose ring and the silver
ear studs, which he'd never allowed me to wear to school. Of course, I
had my thin steel tube chain collar on, as always. I'd ridden to the
party on my bike myself, wearing the warm black-and-blue leather
riding jacket and black gloves. I loved the leather punk look and only
hoped that I could have gone with Master and worn it to a night with
real men instead of these bitches. Needless to say, the kids were
shocked to see me transformed from the curly-haired school boy to a
leather punk with a mohawk and a nose ring. My class mates kept asking
me what had gone into me, and I told them I just wore what my Master
told me to wear. They thought I was putting on some sort of an act. It
got old real fast and couldn't even get drunk because I was going to
ride the bike home. But, as I said, the good thing about it was that
it scared the flabby queen away.

Then there was the assignment that Master had given me. I guess he
knew that I had no interest in anyone my age, but he wanted me to take
this party seriously, so he'd ordered me to fuck one of the kids and
bring back photographic evidence that I'd done it. Or else, of
course. I looked at the party and thought that there was no way it was
happening. The guys were all straight, or so far in the closet that
they just might become evangelical preachers when they grew up. Except
for the fat queen, of course, but my punk look made him avoid me as if
I had the bird flu, and I couldn't have gotten hard for him anyway,
even if I'd swallowed a bottle of Viagra pills. I figured I'd have one
beer and one non-alcoholic drink and I'd make them last as long as I
possibly could, then get out of the place and ride home with no
photographic evidence of anything at all. Maybe I could get myself
caned as a punishment for the failure, or even whipped, if I was
lucky. The risk was, of course, that Master would punish me by not
letting me have his cock or kisses. He'd done that once for an entire
weekend, and they'd been just about the worst days of my life.

"Dylan, what the hell? What happened to your hair? And what's that
thing in your nose? What the hell are you wearing?" It was Andy, just
about the only guy in class I felt like talking to. He was this skinny
little computer nerd, but he didn't quite fit the stereotype of the
frustrated geek. He'd gotten himself a curvy brunette girlfriend on
the second day of the term. She was three years older than him and
he'd more or less moved into her dorm room, as he had a roommate and
she didn't.

"It's my nose ring. I'm wearing what my Master told me to wear." I
tried to make myself heard over the music and the crowd.

"Shit. You look freaky. You're scaring people."

"Yeah. It's kinda great." That much was true. I probably wasn't going
to get to complete my Master's assignment when everyone was running
away from me, but at least I could enjoy the shocked expressions on
the kids' faces.

"Leather pants? Are you serious? Those things on your wrists, where do
you even get that stuff? Those are kinky."

"That was probably my Master's intention. It's what I wear when we go
out."

"I've got to meet this guy. When did you have your nose pierced?
Doesn't that hurt?"

"Oh, the septum? Ages ago. He just ordered me not to wear the ring or
the bullhorns to school. Yeah it hurt. It was great."

"Fuck, you're a pervert. I didn't think all the stuff you said was for
real. You were serious about him tying you up and flogging you and
stuff."

"Of course. Good times."

"Damn, man." He paused. "I always wanted to try on that kind of
pants."

"They sell them in a shop. It's not that hard."

Andy laughed. "I guess."

"You'd look good. You have a nice ass." It was true. He was a short
guy with a light build and a cute little butt. Not very different from
my own, actually, even though I'm six feet one inch tall. I just
happen to have almost disproportionately narrow hips.

"You think? I'm not sure Constance would be into the leather thing. Or
maybe she would, I have to ask her."

"I know some guys who would like to look at your ass in leather
pants."

"I'm sure you do." He laughed. He was completely secure in his
sexuality and it didn't matter to him if I was gay or not, or an owned
boy of a male Master. I guess that's why I liked him, even though he
was straight and my age. "Did you ride your bike here?"

"Yep."

"That thing is so cool. I wish I wasn't so broke. I'd like to get a
bike, too."

"Yeah, well, I'm not rich. Master bought the bike for me. He's got his
own one, too."

"Really? I thought it was your folks."

I laughed. "Not likely. They kicked me out."

"Oh my God. When did that happen?"

"When I was sixteen."

"Shit. That's terrible."

"Not really. I'm better off. I moved in with my Master soon after
that."

"Really? Weren't you underage?"

"Yep. He got a kick out of that."

"Shit, he's a child molester."

"Please. I was sixteen. My dick was as big as his."

"How old is he, exactly?"

"Forty-one. Almost exactly twenty years older than me."

"Christ. You guys are perverts."

"Proud to be."

"So you've been with him, for..."

"Fifth anniversary next month."

"Damn. That's longer than a good portion of marriages. I had no
idea. You looked like such a kid. Until now, that is."

"I know. His orders. He got a kick out of that look."

"Seriously, he buys you bikes?"

"Yeah. Everything else, too. Total sugardaddy. I've been working the
whole time, though. I asked him to keep the money. I ask for
permission to buy stuff. Sometimes he just buys things for me. The
bike was one of those. I wasn't even into them, but I am now."

"You give him your money? That's fucked up."

"He controls the accounts. It's love."

"Shit, you're crazy. Wait, so you've been getting laid since you were
sixteen? Like regularly?"

"More like fourteen, but laid as in laid every night with him, yeah,
sixteen."

"Damn. I'd turn gay for that."

"So how's Constance?" Not that I actually gave a shit.

"Oh, she's good. She was invited to a different party, so it's just me
here."

"Right."

Just then a blond jock guy with a blond girlfriend in tow put his hand
on Andy's shoulder.

"Andy, my man. How's it going?"

"Oh, Johnny, hi. I'm good. This is Dylan, from my statistics
class. Johnny, from my programming class. I'm doing all of his
coursework for him, because he's blond and dumb. And this is Tricia, I
believe."

The girl turned to me a started to say an over-the-top super-sugary
"Hi", but the sound kinda died halfway through as she run her eyes up
and down my appearance, ending up staring at my nose ring. I shook her
limp hand.

Then it was Johnny-boy's turn. He said "Hi Dylan" and shook my
hand. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, about five eleven,
and had a very nice athletic, muscular build and a bubble butt in his
jeans. The tight-fitting short-sleeved collared shirt showed off his
round pecs and biceps. He had a good-looking face, too, with blue
eyes. It was framed by neatly cut blond hair. The boy was very nice to
look at, at least if you were into all-American boy-from-next-door
baby jocks. He, too, looked at me up and down, stopping at the nose
ring for a little too long, then getting really stuck at my belt
buckle and my leather-clad crotch. My pants were tight enough to give
an idea about my equipment, even when I wasn't hard.

"Johnny's probably got potential. He's just been running after a
football for too long. One day he'll write a computer program all by
himself, I'm sure." Andy patted Johnny on the shoulder. Andy seemed to
be a little too straight to notice that Johnny-boy couldn't get his
eyes off of my pants. After an awkward couple of seconds of staring,
the boy got his tongue back.

"It's true. I'd be in so much trouble without Andy."

"Hey, that's what friends are for, exploitation." I said.

He let out a very nervous laugh. Tricia was eyeing me with growing
suspicion and nervously running her fingers through her curly blond
hair. I noticed a small golden cross hanging from a thin gold chain
around her neck. I could practically feel my gay freak physically
repel her pure Christian cunt.

"Oh, I see Elizabeth over there. I'll just let you guys catch up. Nice
meeting you, Dylan." I nodded to her as she disappeared into the crowd
that was dancing on the living room floor to the pounding music.

"Hey, I need to abandon you guys, too, just for a sec." Andy
said. "That guy there, see, his name is Chet. We've got this web
site... uh, it's a long story, but we've got this whole project
going. I've gotta talk with him." Andy, too, disappeared and went see
this Chet, whom I'd failed to see even when Andy was pointing in some
direction. I was left with the very awkward Johnny. He kept sneaking
glances at my leather pants. He was comically bad at hiding it.

"So, y-y-your're a computer science major, too? I don't think I've
seen you."

"No, business."

"Uh, I s-see."

I let the awkward silence go on. The guy wanted to ask about the
piercings and the pants, but didn't dare. I was enjoying every moment.

"Andy is such a great guy." He started. "We're on the same floor at
the dorm. Except he stays with his girlfriend a lot."

I shifted my weight and leaned against a wall to better display my
package. Johnny's eyes kept wandering to all the wrong places. The guy
was in such a denial. I was starting to get ideas about my Master's
assignment. I was deliberately leaving it to Johnny to try to keep up
the conversation.

"Are you on campus?" Johnny asked.

"I'm having trouble hearing you." That was somewhat true. "Let's go
over there." I led us to a secluded spot under the stairs, away from
the loudspeakers in the living room. I cornered the guy and got in a
little too close for comfort, on the pretense of being able to hear
him better. "No, not on campus. I live in Pinecrest with my
boyfriend." I figured I'd probably scare him away even without
bringing the concept of a Master into it.

"Y-Y-You mean you're gay?" The boy was oh so shocked.

"Yep."

"I-I-Is he here?"

"Nope." Just you and me, baby.

"Wow. I don't know any gay guys. That I know are gay, I mean."

"Hmm."

"Not that I have a problem or anything. I don't think it's the
right... I mean, it's their choice..."

Oh boy, he was getting dangerously close to saying something silly, so
I figured I'd throw him off a little further. "You like my pants?"

"Oh yeah. I mean no. I mean, they're..."

I laughed. "You can't get your eyes off of them, can you?"

"No. I mean, yes I can." He blurted, staring at my crotch.

"See, you're doing it now."

He raised his wide-open eyes up to mine. "Oh God, I didn't mean to..."

"It's ok. I don't mind." I smiled at him. He was practically
shivering. I took his hands and put them around me and on my
leather-clad ass. "Feel it." The boy was practically in a trance. He
started to fondle my ass, feeling the supple leather. I got a very
close close-up of him. Regrettably he had no sign of facial hair, and
he was just too young and smooth and wrinkle-free. The ass-fondling
did feel nice, though, and it made my dick stir. The house was packed
with people, but we were in our own little shadow in the
corner. Nobody was looking.

I finished my beer, put my arms around him and pulled him closer. He
was wearing some sort of a fragrance, which I normally find to be a
turn-off on a man, but he was so clean-cut and cute that it somehow
suited him. I was about to kiss him, which, I was sure, would finally
scare him away. I figured it was worth it anyway, just for
laughs. He'd actually closed his eyes, apparently lost in rubbing his
hands across my butt, and that made it that much easier. I held his
head lightly, tilted mine to one side and put my lips on his mouth
ever so gently. He felt smooth and soft like me, unfortunately. I
thought of my Master's stache and the rough stubble on his chin and my
dick started to grow.

Johnny opened his eyes and stared in shock. He had 'how did I get
here' written across his forehead, but he seemed unable to do anything
to get away. I couldn't help grinning. The boy was so innocent. I put
my arm around his his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. I went
in with my tongue, too, and he actually responded. He wasn't
particularly good at it, but I'd still classify what we did as a
proper kiss.

"Oh my G-G-G-God." He stammered when he pulled apart. His hands were
still on my ass and they didn't seem to be going anywhere. "I've never
kissed a guy before. I'm not... I'm not..."

The big word was oh-so-hard to get out.

"Could have fooled me." I said.

"But I'm not! Did anyone see?" He let go of my ass and put his head
out so he could see down the hallway. The closest people were at the
other end, and they were concentrating on the party.

I let him look, then pulled him back in and put his hands back on my
ass. The feeling of leather hadn't lost its magic effect on him. I
kissed him again. It got better. His tongue ran back and forth inside
my mouth.

"B-B-But you've got a nose ring!" He stammered once we broke up the
kiss.

"You like it?"

"Yeah. No! I mean, it's all wrong."

I was pleasantly surprised that he hadn't bolted yet. I figured I'd
push it. I put the best feature of a sleeveless top to use. I lifted
my arm and pulled his head in so that his nose and lips were buried in
my armpit. My Master trims my pits, so there's just some nice hair and
not a choking bush. I'd showered before the party and I was wearing no
deodorant, so it was just fresh me. I was happy to discover that
Johnny-boy completely went for it. He was running his tongue all over
the place and sniffing my pit as if it was a rose garden. I probably
had a stupid wide grin on my face. I had a feeling I just might
complete the assignment after all.

I ran my hands over the boy's arms and shoulders, feeling up his
round, firm muscles. He was quite impressive. I worked out a lot and I
had pretty good strength to my arms, but Master liked me lean and
skinny, so he never allowed me to put on much mass. Sometimes I
wondered what it would be like to just eat a ton of food and lift a
lot of weights and get huge. I knew I'd have the discipline to pull of
the gym routine, and even if I didn't, Master would make sure I did my
workouts. So far he'd preferred me the way I was, though, tall and
super slender, almost stick figure -like, with a cute little ass and
nice lean, wiry muscles.

I pulled Johnny's head up from the armpit for a kiss, then switched
sides and offered the other pit to him. He went for it with
undiminished appetite. I have to say the he was doing well for a
beginner. I was getting up to full hardness. I figured I should get
started with the photographic evidence part of the assignment. I
fished out my phone from my pocket. The dim light was hitting Johnny
better on this side. I extended my hand to hold the phone at an arm's
length and snapped a couple of pictures. Fortunately I happened to
hate the silly fake camera noises they make digital cameras and phones
play, so I always turned them off. The phone was completely silent and
Johnny remained oblivious to the fact that he was starring in a photo
shoot, as his face was buried under my arm.

I put the phone back in my pocket and pulled Johnny up.

"Oh my God, it's so nice... but it's your sweaty pit... it's gross..."

"I'm not sweaty, silly, but that would be even better." I stepped back
and noticed an unmistakable damp spot of precum on the front of his
jeans. His dick was trying to poke through the fabric, too. "Hey there
cowboy, you are having a good time, aren't you?"

He looked down and his face turned bright red with embarrassment.

"Oh God... I never done that before... you know, I'm not..."

"Oh I know. We should get a room, as they say."

"No no, I can't be doing this, I must find Tricia..."

"No you don't. You're coming with me." I took his hand and started
towards the stairs.

"No no, I'm not... and you look... I mean the nose ring and
everything... I gotta find Tricia..." He babbled on.

"She can take care of herself for a minute. This won't take long." I
pulled him up the stairs on the theory that we could close the door
behind us in some bedroom. The off-campus house was rented by a bunch
of students. The night was still young and the party was still all
downstairs. I simply picked the first door at the top of the
stairs. Sure enough, it was the typical college kid room with a bed,
desk, a computer, a bookshelf and a guitar in the corner. I closed the
door. The music downstairs was so loud that you could still make out
the words to the songs even behind the closed door upstairs. I pulled
Johnny in for more kissing. I figured I'd try to get in his pants and
complete the assignment extra quick.

We were standing up and I kept the kissing going while I unbuttoned my
fly and fished out my cock with one hand. I directed Johnny down to my
left pit, but then immediately continued to push him down onto his
knees. It took a moment for the implications to sink into his innocent
mind. He looked up to me with a pleading expression on his face, then
at my hard cock jutting in front of his face, almost touching his
nose, then back up to my face again.

"No no, I'm not... I can't do that... I can kiss but not that... and
you're freaking huge..."

That was unfortunately true. I had a thick eight-and-a-half-inch cock,
the same as Master, to my eternal disappointment. I should like to
have had a tiny little boy penis that would have been fitting for the
bottom boy that I was, but unfortunately what I had was a long, hefty,
intimidating thing that had in fact turned off a lesser top or two. I
suppose one can't have everything in life. Master hadn't even allowed
me to get it cut, because he preferred me to keep the full sensitivity
in the head, so I could feel his administrations as intensely as
possible. This seemed to be one of the few times I was forced to be on
top, and it still would have been handy to have a small dick, so dear
Johnny wouldn't have been so scared. Not to mention in quite so much
pain later, if I had my way. Alas, the organ was what it was, and
Johnny would have to deal with it.

"Don't be stupid. Of course you can. You'll like it." I caressed his
face, then pressed it gently against the leather of the front of my
pants, slapping his face lightly with my cock. My precum got
splattered all over him, and beads of it ended up on the leather of
the pants.

Boys respond well to firm direction. I should know. I soon had him
licking my precum off of the pants, then my cock. He kept blabbering
some sort of an incoherent protest and finally even managed to utter
the word 'gay', but at that point he already had the head of my cock
in his mouth. The protest was all nonsense, of course. It only took
moments before his tongue was hungrily going up and down my shaft, and
he was actually listening to my instruction on how to do it right. I
was getting rather into the scene myself. Johnny might not have had
facial hair, but his handsome face surely looked nice from above, with
my cock in the mouth. I managed to snap another pair of pictures
without him noticing. I was thankful that Master had got me such a
nice phone. The marvels of modern technology were such that the
pictures came out quite sharp and bright, even though there were only
the normal indoor lights and no flash on the phone.

I wasn't about to get romantic with Johnny, and I needed to move along
with the assignment. I got a good grip of the back of his head and
slowly forced all of my cock into his mouth. He gargled and spluttered
and rolled his eyes up to look at me in a panic. I relaxed my grip,
gave more instruction, then repeated the process a few times. He was
still gagging, but I did get him do a passable job of deep-throating
me. I managed to get a picture of it too, with his nose pressed
against the shaved skin above my cock and all of my shaft in his mouth
and throat. There was some nice white precum foam on his chin in the
picture, and my black leather jeans somehow managed to look hot and
shiny in the light, too.

I pulled Johnny off of my cock.

"Oh my God, you're killing me with it... you are too big..."

I laughed. "Well, you're not dead, and that's enough of that, for
now. Drop your pants."

"No! What are you going to do? You can't... I can't... I'm not..."

"Drop your pants, Johnny." I patted him lightly on the cheek and got
some precum on my fingers. I made him lick them clean.

"But I'm not..." His eyes were wide with fright. I would have kissed
him if his face wasn't such a mess. Instead, I settled for putting my
hands on his shoulders to calm him down.

"Pants."

Finally he got a move on and got rid of his shoes, opened his belt and
his fly and dropped the jeans.

"Shorts, too." I said. He looked as if he might cry. I made no gesture
of removing any of my clothes. He pulled off his boxer shorts.

"Oh, that's nice." I stared at his rock-hard, dripping cock, then
yanked it. He moaned with pleasure, but looked almost overcome with
guilt at the same time. I was actually envious when I looked at him
without his pants. He had a perfect bubble butt on his solidly built,
muscular body, and the perfect, small, cut, four-inch boy dick. His
balls were not big either, but slightly large in proportion to the
cute little knob. Just adorable.

"What are you going to do? I'm not gay, you can't fuck me..."

"You can be as straight as you want, but I'm going to fuck you and
you're going to love it. Now, get as much of your precum on my cock as
you can."

"What? No no..."

Ah, the young and innocent. It was exactly the sort of 'no no' that
meant 'yes yes'. I gave him a light slap on the face. It was nowhere
near painful, but it had the desired effect. He snapped out of his
whining and got to work. I had this nasty idea of getting this done
all naturally, even though I had a small one-use packet of lube in my
pocket. Johnny looked adorably frightened as he squeezed the precum
from his little knob onto my long and thick shaft.

"Ok, that's enough. Get your hands off of your dick. You're not gonna
jerk off while I'm here."

Without words, I pulled off his shirt to reveal the rest of his body,
only stopping for one brief moment to admire his beautiful round
muscles and ripped eight-pack. Then I put him against the bed, knees on
the floor, chest down against the mattress, ass in the air. His
beautiful muscular chest was regrettably completely smooth like mine,
but his ass was covered with a light dusting of blond hair. I was
actually looking forward to deflowering his hole.

I know I went in too fast, but I didn't particularly care. There was
no way he was going to get away now, so I was in a position to get my
assignment completed and not worry. I got some spit on my shaft in
addition to his precum and my own. I used my fingers very briefly on
his hole. Thankfully Johnny was a very clean boy down there. I
explained to him how to relax his butt and how to push against me as
if he was taking a dump when I entered. He actually paid attention and
followed instruction. I had a feeling it was mostly out of sheer
terror. I was pretty sure they heard his scream downstairs when I
inserted the head of my cock. I waited for a while, both for his
sphincter to adjust and for the sounds of a bunch of silly college
kids running up the stairs to save screaming Johnny. Nobody came.

I snapped a picture, and I supposed I could have considered it all
done right there, but the ass was very pretty and I was, in fact,
enjoying it. I proceeded to deliver a nice and forceful, if a rather
quick and to-the-point, power-fuck. Johnny held on to the bed and
screamed, but I suppose it was all lost in the noise of the party as
far as the kids downstairs were concerned. I didn't touch his cock,
although it was very tempting. I suppose the fuck was painful enough
that it kept him from coming, or maybe he was one of those boys who
couldn't shoot without some direct stimulation to his cock, who
knows. I didn't care. I tried to keep the sound of my grunt to a
minimum when I came, although there was not much point in worrying
about that after all the noise Johnny had made.

I got a picture of my cock when I pulled it out, showing my seed
dripping out of Johnny's hole. I managed to move quickly enough to
snap another one when I flipped him around and squeezed the last of
the semen across his face. The poor boy was too shocked to notice the
phone camera. I didn't have enough of jizz left for a proper
face-paint, but even the thin clear stuff that I got on him happened
to gleam in the light so that it looked pretty impressive in the still
picture. To finish off the ceremonies, I showed my tool back into
Johnny's mouth and told him to clean it up. He followed my orders
seemingly out of shock more than anything else. I'm not even sure he
realized that he had his own ass juices on his tongue. I took one last
picture, and this time he couldn't miss noticing it.

"Oh my God. You can't do that. You have to delete it." He whined as I
pulled out and put my cock back into my pants and buttoned up the fly.

"Don't worry, nobody you know is going to see it." I said as I looked
at the picture on the screen of the phone. I'm not much of a
photographer, but that one really turned out. Johnny was looking up to
the lens with pleading eyes and he had half of my dirty cock in his
mouth. His face looked much more covered in slime than it was in
reality.

"No Dylan, you have to delete it! Tricia can't find out... or my
folks..." His little cock was still jutting at full hardness, ready to
shoot.

"Oh please, I'm not gonna tell anyone." I patted his naked, beautiful
ass. "That was very nice. I think I'm off now." I somehow managed to
resist the urge to suck his very pretty dick off. That might have
given the boy too many ideas about himself.

"But..."

The pounding music seemed to wash over me as soon as I opened the
door. I stepped out and closed the door, leaving Johnny to deal with
his hard-on, his scattered clothes and the semen dripping out of his
ass. He was only wearing his socks. I was rather pleased with myself.

I met Andy again in the kitchen. He seemed to have poured a couple of
more beers down his throat and was now talking a little faster.

"Dylan! My man! Where did you disappear to?"

"Oh, I was around. I think I'm heading home, though."

"What, now? Already? Where's Johnny? That boy owes me like fifteen
beers! I'm not doing a single piece of his coursework before he gets
me some beer."

"I just saw him in the other room. I'm sure he's around."

"Oh, I'll tell Tricia you saw him. She thought she'd lost him." Andy
lowered his voice and whispered in my ear. "I think Johnny was looking
at your ass before. I think you have admirers here even though you
look scary."

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm taken and he's too young, anyway."

Andy laughed. I picked up my jacket. "You're really going? Seriously?
It's what, ten? You just got here."

"I figured I'll just drop by to say hi. I'll go and stop freaking
everyone out. That's Anna, right? She lives here?"

"Yeah."

I said bye to the girl who apparently was one of the hosts, then
hugged Andy and got out the door. I was feeling downright proud as I
put on my jacket, helmet and gloves and started the bike. I was at
home half an hour later.

* * *

"Master! Sir, you're home already." I said. I found Master reading a
book.

"Drew's boy was sick. We just watched the movie and I got back. We'd
planned on playing with his boy, but there was no way. He was puking
and stuff."

"Sir, that's too bad." It wasn't bad at all. I couldn't have been
happier. It wasn't even eleven o'clock, and I might yet have a fun
night if I played my cards right.

"Boy, what the hell are YOU doing back already?" He took a look at his
watch. "Half past ten? Don't tell me you completed the assignment."

"No, sir, I didn't manage."

"Boy, that's bullshit. You were there for, what, two and a half
hours. That's not even trying."

"Sir, the place was full of girls. Cunts as far as you could see. The
only gay guy was a fat queen and he was scared of my nose ring and
mohawk." I deserved a prize for my act.

"Don't whine to me. It's college. They're supposed to
experiment. Don't tell me there weren't any hot guys."

"I guess, but Sir, they're all in the closet and the way I look scared
the hell out of everyone."

"What? You look hot."

"I know, Sir, and thank you for the look, Sir, but it was a college
kid house party, not a leather bar. They were all used to me looking
like an innocent kid with a hoodie, the way you've been telling me to
dress all term."

"Boy, you're not putting this on me, are you?"

Oh, that got his temperature rising. Perfect. "Sir, of course not, but
they looked at me tonight like I was from Mars."

"Boy, you gotta play with people your age. You can't spend all of your
time with us old fogies, it's not healthy."

"But Sir, those kids are like twelve years old, and bad at sex. Who
wants that?"

"They're your age, boy. You're testing my patience." God I loved that
stern look. I barely managed to keep a straight face. I wanted to grin
and kiss him, but that would have blown my show and I wouldn't have
gotten the punishment that I was so successfully heading for. I was
hoping for the cane. "The assignment was damned simple, get fucking
laid. Use the freaking internet if you have to. You didn't even
try. This is unacceptable. Strip and go to the bench."

"Yes, sir."

I managed to keep a straight face just until I turned away from
him. God I loved my Master. And I love him best when he was about to
set me straight. Even if these days I'm too well trained to displease
him accidentally, so I have to fake it.

I went to the playroom downstairs, quickly got rid of my clothes, put
on my leather ankle and wrist restraints, attached my ankles to the
legs of a bondage bench, laid myself over it and attached one
wrist. It was all routine for me. One hand was left free, as I
obviously couldn't lock it in myself. The black leather upholstery of
the bench felt nice and cool against my belly.

Master let me lay there for a while, allowing me to contemplate my
punishment. I was hoping for the new plastic cane, at least. That
thing caused some real pain. The other new favorite was a real leather
whip, which was quite dangerous if the top didn't know what he was
doing. Master had been getting highly skilled at using it, but I
thought that for that, he'd probably have me standing in a
spread-eagle position instead, wrist attached via a bar to the ceiling
and ankles to the floor.

Finally he came in. He'd taken off his shirt and he was wearing black
BDU pants and boots. I twisted my head to get a glimpse of his hairy
chest. It was so much nicer than Johnny's smooth kiddie one. Master
was six feet three inches tall, a couple of inches taller than me, and
his body was a 250-pound bundle of nice, round muscles. Dense dark
brown hair covered his chest and abdomen evenly, and he always kept it
nice and trimmed. His ass, legs and arms were evenly covered, too. His
head was bald, but the remaining hair on the sides and the back went
up to almost the top, so that the bald area in the front extended as a
pretty narrow strip to the back. The border between the bald and the
hairy area was very sharp. He had a very handsome, tough-looking face
and icy blue eyes. It was just the butchest, hottest possible
combination with the male-pattern baldness. He used to shave his head,
but I got him to let me just trim the hair to a minimum without a wet
shave. That way it showed off the fact that he had a real male bald,
not just a shaved head. On his face he wore a chin strap beard that
connected to a handlebar mustache, both quite narrow, carefully
groomed stripes of hair. He gets a dense five o'clock shadow on his
entire lower face, and the chin strap disappears into a full beard in
a few short days if he stops shaving.

He is simply perfect. To me, anyway. Even as I was bent over and
restrained, I wanted to try to reach over and suck on his nipples and
rub my face in his chest fur. He locked in my right wrist restraint
and tightened the rest of them. Well, I admit that even he's not
completely perfect. The hair on his back only goes up some way above
his ass, leaving his upper back and shoulders smooth. His belly is
hard and ripped, despite the fact the I'd done my best in the kitchen
to make it more round and cuddly. His face looks younger than he
actually is, and his features are so different from mine that
unfortunately we don't really give the impression of a biological
father and son, although based on our ages we easily could be. We've
only been mistaken for a dad and a son once or twice, and it was a
huge turn-on for me whenever it happened. I think it embarrassed
Master, though. One of the times was when he bought me the bike and
the sales guy kept referring to me as 'your son'. I had a raging
hard-on the whole time the guy went on about some technical nonsense
about the various bikes, and kept recommending to Master things that
would be 'perfect for your son'.

"Boy, I thought I trained you better than this. It's damned
disappointing. That was an easy thing to do, and fun."

"I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again."

"Not as sorry as you're about to be, boy. I'm going to have to see to
that."

>From the corner of my eye I saw him go for a cane, and it was the
right one! I cheered in my mind but hid my grin. It was going to be a
hard ride, to be sure. Normally he'd warm me up with something less
severe.

I managed to keep quiet as the first strokes landed. Master wasn't
into the silly verbal stuff some tops kept spouting from their
mouths. In his playroom, you were supposed to suffer in silence, if
you could. He worked on my ass and thighs for a good while, slowly
accelerating to real, hard strokes of the nasty plastic cane that bit
into my flesh. I did start to yelp, then scream. I knew better than to
beg for him to stop. Of course, there was no such nonsense as a safe
word. He knew me completely and he knew what he was doing.

By the end of it I was reduced to a screaming delirium. He stopped and
to my mild shock went to pick up the electricity unit and the
electrodes.

"Boy, your screaming is out of control. I'm gonna put this on sound
activation."

My stomach lurched. If he cranked up the intensity on that thing and I
couldn't keep quiet, I was going to get electrocuted to a
crisp. Master rubbed his hands across my ass, which must have been all
red and streaked by now. He handled my hard cock, preparing to attach
the electrodes. Suddenly I felt him sniffing it.

"Boy, your cock smells like someone's ass."

Shit. I was busted a little earlier than I'd been planning on.

"Yes, Sir."

"Goddamn boy, are you saying that it was in someone's hole tonight?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Was he an old guy, or why did you say you didn't complete the task?"

"No, Sir. He was my age. At the party."

"Goddamn. Didn't you get the photos? What's the problem?"

"The photos are on my phone, Sir."

Master went to pick up my phone from the pocket of my pants and
browsed through the pictures.

"Damn, boy, this is god damned art. That boy is smoking hot."

"If you like young and dumb, Sir."

"Well, it would seem that I do, now, wouldn't it." He swatted my
tortured ass with his bare hand and I yelped. "How on earth did you
land your dick in this guys mouth?"

"Sir, he kept staring at my pants."

"I told you you looked hot."

"Yes, Sir. I had to pull him away from his girlfriend and jump him,
though."

"Don't tell me this one thought he was straight. He's gagging for it."

"Yes, Sir, he absolutely thought that. Kept whining about not being
gay the whole time. He was a virgin, too."

Master let out a hearty laugh. "Well, someone got educated in that
college tonight. Goddamn, he looks pretty with a cock in his mouth and
cum on his face."

"Yes, Sir."

"Is that tiny thing his cock? How cute is that!"

"Yes, Sir. I admit I was quite envious. That is the cock I should like
to have."

"Nonsense, boy. I like a nice big handle to twist. More room for pins and
electrodes, too. And it looks better when you fuck the boys of other
men."

I didn't want to be reminded about the upcoming electrocution. "Uh,
yes, Sir."

"So, you went to the party, fucked over a pretty jock boy in no time
at all, a freaking virgin one at a that, took photos good enough for a
porn site, left your friends hanging there the second you were through
with the boy, then lied about the whole thing to me to get this
workout out of me. Why, because you like the cane?"

I grinned and twisted my head to try to face him. "Yes, Sir, that
would be accurate, Sir."

"You little conniving fucker. Boy, clearly your training is still
severely lacking. This is going to be a long night. Don't tell me you
left that boy hanging without getting him off?"

"Yes, Sir, of course I did, Sir. I was done with the assignment. Why
should I bother with a silly kid like that?"

"Damn boy, you were supposed to make friends."

"Sir, the assignment was to fuck one of them. Why should I want to be
friends with the? They are much too young and dumb."

"This conversation is not getting anywhere, is it? Very well, have it
your way."

In record time, I was strung up spread-eagled, standing on my toes,
hung from the ceiling. My wrists and ankles were spread wide by metal
bars. Master added a heavy bondage belt and attached in to the walls
on either side with ropes to keep me more closely in place. He put the
electrodes on my cock and inserted a steel plug, which also acted as a
electrode, in my ass. He set the unit to trigger a fairly long,
intensifying flutter of pulses upon sound activation. This was a
devilish design, because the stimulation gradually accelerated after
it had been triggered, and if you made another noise at the peak, you
were in for another round of electricity. Master blew into the
microphone to test the setting, and I nearly bit into my tongue, but
managed to keep quiet.

Once he was done setting up the electrostimulation, Master backed away
and picked up the whip. I was genuinely scared. I knew that the sound
of a stroke of the whip landing was enough to trigger the electricity,
and that was very much confirmed on the first stroke, which landed on
my chest. I managed just barely to keep quiet. Master realized his
omission, and strapped a nice cock-shaped rubber gag in my mouth for
me to bite on.

I can get up to an orgasm on pain alone, especially
electrostimulation. Master was very well aware of this. I was hard and
ready to go after just three lashes of the whip and several failures
to keep quiet, resulting in intense stimulation of my cock and
hole. Master stared at me, grinning. I knew he thought he was lucky to
have found a boy like me.

"Damn boy, you are a pain pig." He said loudly enough to trigger the
electro. I shot my load, thrashing against the restraints and making
too much noise with the chains above my wrists. My load got sprayed
across the floor in front of me. I didn't manage to keep quiet when
the electro triggered by the noise of the chains hit me, so I ended up
making things worse still. I kept thrashing, and at some point Master
started to laugh at me, triggering yet more electricity. Finally he
had to turn the unit off, lest the nerves in my cock and ass be
permanently fried.

"Don't think this is over. You've had your fun. I'll still need to
punish you."

Shit. I was hanging there like a sweaty rag as it was already.

Then my phone beeped with an incoming text message. Master picked it
up to take a look.

"My my. I guess that boy wasn't completely pissed off at you." Master
started to read off the phone. "Dylan, I got your number from Andy. He
said you left already. Are you still out somewhere? Can we meet? Or
maybe tomorrow? It was real weird but I feel like I have to try
again. I had to jerk off after and I had the biggest orgasm
ever. Almost got caught, too. Johnny. P.S. Am I gay? Need to
talk. Please call."

"Boy, haven't I taught you to suck cock? He even had a cute one! You
left that boy to do his own handiwork. That's just nasty, boy. He
really isn't too bright, though, is he? I'll give you that. 'Am I
gay', seriously? Let me answer him."

I tried to protest, but it was unintelligible because of the gag in my
mouth. Master spoke aloud as he slowly typed in the message on the
small keyboard.

"Yes, you are now officially gay, so go buy a feather boa. I'd love to
suck your pretty little cock. I have more time tomorrow. How about a
lunch? Dylan." Master pressed send. I was thrashing in my restraints,
trying to protest through the gag. I didn't want a damn date with
Johnny, cute cock or no. Master put the whip away and started to
choose among the collection of floggers. The phone beeped again almost
immediately.

Master read the message: "Thank god you replied. Officially, LOL?
Lunch is a great idea. I have so much I wanna talk about. Where?
Looking forward to seeing you. Johnny."

He stared at the phone. "Huh. Talk? It's damn plain that he likes
cock, and he wants to talk about it? This guy is funny. Christ, how
did he type all that so quickly?"

I rolled my eyes. If I wasn't gagged, I'd have told him that mentally
Johnny was a silly twelve-year-old who could probably text faster than
Master could speak.

Master started to type and utter another text message. "My
house. Address 251 Stennett Rd. 01:00 p.m." He pressed the buttons to
send it.

He was fucking inviting Johnny over? What the fuck were we going to do
with him? On a second though, probably just that. The answer came back
instantly. Master read it aloud: "Fantastic. I'll be
there. Johnny. P.S. Can you wear the same pants?"

"Ok, so that boy is a clown, I get it. But you still should have
sucked him off, and with that face and ass and cock, I don't care if
he's a bit dim."

I guess the text messages and the prospect of having a hot young boy
over for a visit mitigated my case to some extent, and Master no
longer felt like whipping me to shreds. The sound activation came back
on, but Master stuck to relatively light flogging after that. I
managed to keep so quiet that the electro was only triggered a few
times by the chains clinking and some of the louder flogger strokes
landing. I suppose master had turned the sensitivity of the sound
sensor down, too. I actually came a second time, which made Master
curse me for enjoying his punishments, which in turn triggered the
electro. That orgasm went from pleasure to pain real fast.

Master washed me in a hot shower afterwards. It was past three in the
morning before we got into bed.

"Boy, I was going to leave you chained to the playroom floor for the
night. You'd sure deserve it for tricking me into caning you."

"I do, Master, I do, but you wouldn't leave me there, Sir."

"I know better than to encourage your commentary, but why might that
be, boy?"

"Were you going to wake up alone on a Saturday morning, Sir?" I
snuggled my back and even my tortured, sore arse against his hairy
body as he spooned me. I knew that he was as dependent on cuddling me
as I was on cuddling him.

"You uppity little bitch, why do I feed you?"

"Because I cook your food, Sir?"

"You think you are running the whole show, don't you?"

"Sir, I am running the whole show."

"Damn, boy, you'll be the end of me. I'll electrocute you properly
tomorrow."

"Sir, my point exactly. Looking forward to it."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Go to sleep before I strangle you."

"Mmmm." I pulled his big muscular arms tighter around me.

* * *

We slept in so late that I'd barely got the lunch going before Johnny
rang the doorbell. I was wearing the leather pants and a dress shirt,
and Master had his leather bar vest on. We tried to have beers before
the lunch, but the drinks weren't even finished before things had
degenerated into complete sluttery. Johnny ended up restrained in the
basement and I scurried to the kitchen to put the lunch on hold. I did
suck Johnny's pretty little cock, but mostly we took turns fucking his
ass and his mouth. Master was very impressed with Johnny's looks, and
also quite amused by his oblivious comments about all the equipment in
the playroom. He asked a silly question about the anal balls, so we
made the way they were used very clear to him.

We did have the lunch after that, although it was dinner time. Somehow
Johnny ended up with us in the hot tub on the deck in the back yard,
and then he continued into our bed. Master ordered us to perform for
him, and somehow the fact that I was doing it for the benefit of
Master made it hot for me, even if Johnny was still too young and
hairless. I did my very best to pound his already sore asshole. Johnny
slept with us that night, but I drew the line at getting to be spooned
by Master. That spot is mine. I put my arms around Johnny, and that
was as far as he was going to get with his sleeping arrangement.

We slept in on Sunday. Master nearly fell out of the bed laughing when
Johnny said he'd missed church. Then Tricia called, apparently from
the church grounds, and they had a big fat argument amongst themselves
right there on the phone. About what, I didn't really
understand. Surely the bitch didn't expect a healthy boy to spend his
Sunday mornings in a church? I entertained myself by sucking on
Johnny's little dick while he spoke on the phone. I'm sure his
moaning, which must have sounded deeply incongruous at the other end
of the line, didn't help his side in the argument, whatever it was
about.

Johnny broke up with Tricia on Monday. That week Master set him up
with Bruce, a thirty-five-year-old cop and a bodybuilder that we
knew. Bruce had won several times the city's award for the friendliest
police officer, or whatever fancy name they had for it. His secret was
that he got all of his police brutality out of his system in his
bedroom. I'd been at the receiving end of his baton a few times, and
it was almost as much fun as my Master's cane collection. Bruce was
looking for a boy and Johnny hit it off with him immediately. Two
weeks later Johnny moved out of the dorm at the college and in with
Bruce.

I made enough progress in getting to know the college kids so that
Master not to feel the need to order me to go to another party. Bruce
brought Johnny in for a session every now and again, and I suppose
Master counted that towards my relations with people my age. There
wasn't very much conversation going on though, as most of the time one
or the both of us had someone's cock or a gag in our mouths.

I did spend more time with Andy, too, and I managed to convince Master
that Andy would be more interested in my company if we could ride
motorbikes together. Master ended up letting me ride his bike so that
I could loan mine to Andy, and we loaned leathers for Andy from an
equally small-sized fuckbuddy of ours. Master was always very
territorial about his big and powerful bike, and he would normally
barely let me touch the thing except when I was a passenger. He found
himself wondering how I manipulated him into letting me ride it
alone. Well, what good is being a conniving bitch boy if you can't
trick your Master to do what you want him to do? I made the mistake of
saying that aloud to him, and he got quite worked up about my
lippiness. I asked him to punish me for my transgression, expecting a
nice whipping, but that time I'd really gone too far. He made me sleep
on the playroom floor. It was horrible. No caning, whipping,
electrocution, fucking, cuddling or anything, just a collar, chain and
a cold floor.

Andy loved the bike rides. I suppose playing with Johnny had gotten me
somewhat interested in college kid cock, so I got Andy to let me blow
him on a few occasions at stops at scenic spots on our rides. He, too,
has a nice tool. It's entirely average in size, but it's uncut and has
a nice shape. He was very impressed with my services, saying that he'd
thought Constance had talent, but that I was in an entirely different
class. I told Master this, and he was pleased that I had made at least
a couple of friends of my own age and that my cocksucking was
appreciated. Fortunately Andy is very much straight, so the question
of doing anything more than a blowjob with his young, skinny and
hairless body never arose.

The end.