Date: Fri, 31 Jul 2015 16:06:17 -0600
From: Colton <coltonaalto@gmail.com>
Subject: BBC on Campus - Chapter Thirteen

My usual disclaimers:

* My experiences are in everything I write, sometimes an image that I
recall, sometimes much more.  This story, however, is fiction.  Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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or some other reason, don't read it.

* This work is copyright by the author.  Commercial use is prohibited
without permission. Please do not republish any parts of this story without
consent of the author.

* This story depicts unprotected sex. In real-life, be safe!

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Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter finished.

If you like, love or hate the story, let me know!  I enjoy hearing your
reactions.  Email: coltonaalto@gmail.com.


BBC ON CAMPUS

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – HONKY TONK SALOON

The restaurants around Westcliffe left much to be desired.  The University
Club, where I met Akili Brooks for dinner, was okay for steaks.  The
culinary star of the area might have been a dynamite, greasy spoon Mexican
place called Casa Miguel that was popular with the college kids.  Beyond
that, the restaurant scene was flooded with mediocre bar food – burgers,
sandwiches, burritos, generic pizza and pasta.

However, on the highway fifteen miles from town, I discovered a great
deep-dish pizza place called Marco's Supper Club.  The supper club name was
left over from the 1930s when Marco's was a fancy restaurant.  But as the
years took their toll, the place had become a dive.  The dining room was
tiny and most of the building's space was given over to half a dozen pool
tables and a big art deco bar that served cheap Pabst Blue Ribbon and
Budweiser.  Coors Light was the high end beer, although the bar had
recently stocked a microbrew, a Scottish ale, that wasn't bad.  Montana's
2009 smoking ban might have ended indoor smoking, but decades of earlier
smokers had imbedded the stench of cigarette smoke in Marco's floors and
woodwork.

The clientele at the bar consisted of cowboys from the surrounding ranches.
They got drunk, played pool and watched sports, while chasing the few women
that chanced the place.  Marco's hadn't caught on with the college crowd,
but that could happen at any moment, because it was the type of dive that
ran the risk of becoming trendy overnight.

For some reason the chef at Marco's knew Chicago style pizza, and the place
did a great take out business.  When I got a craving for pizza, I suffered
through the dingy dining room because the worst thing to do to a good pizza
is to subject it to a cardboard box.  The bar patrons gave me a wide berth,
not quite knowing what to make of a 6'5" black man with long dreadlocks
that worked at the University, didn't wear shit kickers, and dined alone.
That was fine with me.

I made a later-than-normal run to Marco's shortly after my snowshoeing
adventure.  After ordering pizza and a beer, I stepped into the john, only
to be greeted by a show that I never expected to see.  One of the bar's
cowboy patrons was leaning against a wall.  His jeans and underwear were
pulled down to his knees, and another man was on his knees giving the
cowboy a blowjob.  A third cowboy stood nearby, stroking his cock and
waiting for his turn at the cocksucker's mouth.  I considered turning
around, but the trio was making no effort to hide or even be discreet, so I
casually walked to the urinals as if nothing unusual was happening.  I was
to find out that, indeed, the scene wasn't unusual.

I couldn't make out the cocksucker's face until I got to the urinals, but
once I did, I realized three things.  First, the cocksucker was the best
looking guy I had ever seen in Marco's.  Second, I had seen him before.
And third, the man administering the blow job was Ben, Jake's
twentysomething son.

Jake Westbrooke, the University professor who owned the biggest ranch
around and had taken my cock repeatedly on the wild night after the poker
game at his house, had a gay son.  Or at least a son that was giving blow
jobs.  There was no sign that Ben was slurping on the cowboy's pole
involuntarily.  Ben was drunk and had the dazed look of a guy on drugs.

When I met Ben briefly at Jake's, I thought he looked like a young Jake
Gyllenhaal, compared to Jake's older version.  Ben had Gyllenhaal's dark
hair, and his face was graced by a scruffy beard, and prominent eyes.

"Yeah, suck it, cocksucker," the cowboy moaned.  It frankly didn't look
like the cowboy had a whole lot for Ben to suck on, but Ben knew what he
was doing and the cowboy was loving it, his eyes closed and periodic moans
of appreciation escaping his mouth.  I got an eyeful as I drained my
bladder.  Maybe there was more gay sex in Montana than I assumed.  Maybe
too many cowboys and not that many women to go around?

Waiting for my pizza, I watched as the two cowboys exited the rest room and
motioned to a buddy, who disappeared into the rest room.  He was inside
longer than it took to take a piss or even a shit, but just long enough to
feed a load of cum to Ben.  The cowboy emerged and yet another ranch hand
took his turn.  And then another.  The parade continued as my pizza arrived
and I started eating.  I was almost finished when the last cowboy to take
his turn exited.  A few minutes later Ben emerged with glassy eyes.

He looked at me and smiled.  "You're a friend of my dad's," he said,
slurring his words.  "You wanna blow job?  I'll suck you off.  I've sucked
off everybody in the place that wants to drop a load.  You gotta big dick?"
When I didn't respond immediately, Ben continued, "Or I'll be your bitch.
You can fuck me in the ass. I know how to get into the storeroom in back."

Damn, I thought.  Where was this man when I needed him?  A blow job or a
butt fuck was exactly what I wanted for dessert, because with finals
underway, Jesse and Travis were busy studying, I was three weeks away from
my monthly fuck of Kent's ass, and it had been a few days since Kyle and
his friends had serviced my cock at the mountain hut.  Plus, Ben was hot.
He resembled his father.  The same strong, rugged face, broad pecs and
muscular arms.  His shirt was open halfway, and I could tell his chest
wasn't as hairy as Jake's, but maybe in time Ben would grow the same lush
rug Jake had.

Despite the opportunity dropped in my lap, I didn't accept Ben's offer.  It
wasn't that the setup bothered me.  I had dumped plenty of loads in rest
rooms – most recently in the Latin boy's ass at NYU on the trip to New
York with Shane.  I didn't give a shit if we had an audience, either.  If
guys wanted to watch my big black cock sink into some guy's holes, fine
with me.  Did I decline because Ben was too easy?  Maybe, but probably not.
As much as I like the challenge of hunting down a guy, I had fucked plenty
of easy targets.  Something didn't feel right about using Jake's son while
he was obviously out of it.

"Maybe later," I said.  Ben's eyes were unfocussed and he staggered as he
took a step forward.  "You wanna sit down?" I asked.

"Yeah," Ben said, easing into a chair.  I ordered him a cup of coffee, and
the waitress brought an entire pot.  "Good luck sobering this one up," she
commented wryly.

I hadn't planned to stay longer than necessary to finish what little
remained of my beer, but as Ben drank the coffee, he began to talk.  "Guess
you didn't expect that my old man's son would be the biggest cocksucker in
Montana," Ben said.

"Not really," I conceded.

"Ha!  This is tame compared to what I did in college, back east," Ben said.
"Five arrests for lewd behavior.  I had to have my ass sewn up twice.  Anal
fissures, they called it.  If you take enough cock up your shitter,
eventually your ass gets torn.  Ripped to shreds."

"I've heard that," I said.  I knew a Texas kid at MIT who had been raised
in a very conservative, religious family.  When he came out, he went crazy
and was totally obsessed with sex.  He spent every night for a month in the
gay cruising areas in the Fens, a natural park in Boston close to Fenway
Stadium.  In case the foot traffic in the Fens wasn't sufficient, the guy
set his Grindr profile to advertise his smooth body and available ass.  The
kid was hot and had no trouble getting guys to fuck him.  As the month wore
on, word got out as gay men texted about the `Fen twink.'

Bizarrely, the kid kept count of the cocks he serviced with his ass, and
the number went well into triple figures before the anal tears sidelined
him.  He was lucky that he had asked guys to use condoms.  He didn't do it
because he was being safe, but because he wanted to eat the cum of the guys
that fucked his ass.

With the issue of anal fissures behind us, Ben launched into his story.  He
was 14 when he lost his virginity, to a college student at Westcliffe.
Once Ben's cherry was gone, the student's cock lived in Ben's ass, and he
passed Ben around to his friends, too.  Ben was only too happy to service
the whole group.  He never knew if Jake found out about the affair, but
shortly after, Jake decided Ben needed the discipline of a boarding school
and shipped Ben back east.

"I was the outsider from the west in a school populated by kids from the
east coast, and in the first week, I got in a fight with one of the older
kids," Ben recounted. "After that, some of the seniors and juniors decided
to teach the Montana ranch boy a lesson.  One night in the student dorm, a
couple of guys snuck up behind me and grabbed me, slapping some duct tape
over my mouth and putting a black cloth bag over my head.  The kind of bag
you see in old pictures of men being lynched.  From their voices, I pretty
much knew exactly who the guys were, but I guess they didn't think to keep
silent.

"The group hauled me to the woods behind school, took my clothes off and
stuffed me into an inner tube that the boarding school kids used for riding
the rapids in the stream nearby.  The center of the tube was open, and my
hands and feet were tied so that I wouldn't slip all the way through the
tube.  The guys hoisted the tube into the trees and tied it there.  I hung
three feet off the ground, with my bare ass dangling through the hole in
the tube.  One-by-one guys in the group stepped up and fucked my ass as I
swung helplessly, my wrists and ankles bound and the bag tied over my head.
Some of the kids were reluctant to do me, but cheap bourbon and peer
pressure took their toll and eventually every guy in the group had dumped a
load of teen cum inside me.  I could feel it dripping from my ass.

"Things got worse.  A police patrol spooked the group, and they split in a
panic, leaving me tied in the tube, alone in the woods.  The cops didn't
spot me, however.  After the scare, the kids didn't want to risk returning
to the scene, so one of them called a teacher to report that I wasn't in
the dorm, although someone had seen me walking toward the woods.  The guys
figured if I ratted on them, it would be my word against theirs, and since
I hadn't seen any of their faces, they wouldn't get nailed.

"The rescue didn't quite work out as planned.  The teacher showed up,
decided that my cum soaked hole looked too good to pass up, added his own
load to my pussy, and called two of his friends to join the fun.  After the
trio was done, the teacher left, but returned shortly to let me loose,
thinking I wouldn't recognize my rescuer as the man who had just enjoyed
fucking my ass.  But I put two and two together and knew exactly what had
happened."

Ben paused and leaned forward, looking directly in my eyes.  "The thing
was," he added, "I loved every minute of it.  I loved it all.  The kids
fucking me, the teacher and his friends fucking me, even getting kidnapped.
The only things that would have made it better would have been if it lasted
longer and the kids had tortured me.  My ass was raw and sore, but I still
wanted a dick inside me.

"Given I had enjoyed the night so much, I wasn't about to rat on anyone, so
I made up a story about being outside the dorm – breaking curfew –
when some students from another school captured me and tied me up.  The
perpetrators were grateful that I hadn't fingered them, and decided I must
be okay.  That meant I got a free pass from more hazing, although
ironically, that wasn't what I wanted.  I would have been perfectly happy
to become the school fuck slut, bullied into giving up my holes to every
boy in the school.

"I casually passed the word to some of the older guys that I didn't mind
what happened, thought it was fun, and if they wanted a blow job or as ass
to fuck, I was their boy.  Several kids took me up on the offer, including
two guys that I serviced at least once a week until they graduated.  But
the ringleader of the group that kidnapped me, a guy named Ryan, was the
main beneficiary of my willingness to take cock.  He had spotted me on the
first day of school and thought I was hot, and then planned the whole
kidnapping thing in hopes of getting his cock in my ass.  Not only did his
scheme get him exactly what he wanted, now I was offering my teen butt to
him to use at his whim, whenever he wanted.

"And he wanted it every day, at 6:00 in the morning.  The boarding school
staff closely supervised the student dorms at night, so while some messing
around inevitably occurred, it was risky.  But it never occurred to the
staff that groggy teenagers would be awake at the crack of dawn, much less
fucking.  Ryan made me set my alarm to go off 30 minutes before the rest of
the dorm got up.  I had very precise instructions.  First, hit the
bathroom, shower and clean my ass out, and lube it up.  Next, let myself
into his room and strip.  Finally, crawl into Ryan's bed and wake him with
my mouth, sucking on his dick.  As soon as Ryan's dick was hard, he would
roll me on my stomach and pound my ass until he dumped his load inside me.
He was usually fast.  Then I had to clean his cock off with my mouth.  It
wasn't long before he started making me drink his morning piss, too.  Ryan
nicknamed me `Woodchopper.'  The other kids thought it was because I was
from Montana, but I knew he used the name because I serviced his morning
wood."

Ben paused for a moment.  "God, I loved those mornings," he mused.  "I
would wake up excited as could be over the prospect of getting Ryan's cock
in my holes.  I was the only kid in boarding school that never wanted to
sleep in.  Weekends were the best, because Ryan and I were on the sports
teams together and he would make me suck him off after games, my nose
stuffed in his sweaty pubes.  A couple of times Ryan snuck me into his dorm
room for the whole night so he could fuck me three or four times, but he
made me sleep on the floor because he only had a twin bed.

"After two years of serving Ryan's cock virtually every morning, Ryan
graduated and I was disappointed that he wouldn't be around to fuck me
during my last two years of boarding school.  But on the day of his
graduation, Ryan had a surprise.  When I entered his room early in the
morning as usual, Ryan was still in bed, but he was awake and Ryan's little
brother Dillon, who was in town for Ryan's graduation, was sitting in
Ryan's desk chair with a smirk on his face.  Surprised and embarrassed, I
turned to leave, but Ryan said, `Where the fuck do you think you're going?
Get your clothes off and get your mouth on my morning wood, and do it NOW!'
I wondered if Ryan really expected me to put on a show for his little
brother, but Ryan answered that question when he said, `Watch closely, bro.
This is the way it works.'  Then he glared at me and said, `I said, NOW,
fuck brain!'

"I followed Ryan's orders, stripping and getting on his cock.  Other than
having an audience, it was like most other mornings, although Ryan fucked
me extra hard to put on a show for his little brother.  Once Ryan had
nutted in my ass, he said to Dillon, `Your turn.  Get your clothes off and
get in my bed just like you're waking up next fall.  Woodchopper, you're
gonna give my little bro exactly the same service you gave me.  You're his
property now.'

"By that time," Ben said, "I was 6'2," and even though I was a sophomore, I
played tight end and wide receiver on the varsity football team."  If Ben
detected the irony of playing tight end and wide receiver on the football
team and being a receiver of a daily load of Ryan's cum in his tight end,
he didn't let on.  "Dillon was barely 5'6" and two years younger than me,"
Ben continued.  "The kid was skinnier than a rail and I outweighed him by
80 pounds of muscle.  He hadn't even started ninth grade yet.  Dillion
stripped and got in bed, and roughly shoved my head into his crotch and
said, `Suck me, cock whore.'  Ryan and his kid brother may have doubted
what I would do, but after a moment of indecision, I never wavered.  I was
on Dillon's cock in moments, happy I was getting to suck two cocks and
getting two loads in my pussy.

"Dillon got hard in no time.  His body hadn't developed yet, but his junk
sure had.  Even before he started ninth grade, Ryan's little brother had a
bigger cock than Ryan did – by quite a ways – and the kid's balls
were giant.  I was used to sucking cock, but I gagged and had trouble
getting him down my throat.  I remember being glad Ryan had opened my hole
up before his little brother had his way with my ass.

"The kid rolled me on my stomach and put on a show for Ryan, fucking me as
hard as he could, calling me every derogatory name he could think of.  I
loved servicing Ryan, getting off on the way he ordered me around and
treated me like a cum dump.  But I loved getting used by Dillon even more.
When he came that first time, his cock felt like a fire hydrant.  Those big
balls must have been carrying a gallon of teen spunk.  I used to walk
around all day at school with tiny bits of Ryan's morning load seeping from
my ass, but that day, with both Ryan's load and his little brother's dump,
my ass was dripping constantly.  I had to change underwear twice.

"After Dillon came in my ass, Ryan smirked at me and said, `Woodchopper,
meet your new owner.  My bro owns you now.  I got him my old room in the
dorm and I'm giving him my old cocksucking whore.  You're gonna service him
the same way you serviced me.  First thing in the morning, every morning.
But you're used to it, aren't you?  It would be a shame to let your mouth
and ass go to waste.  We're going to keep you in the family.'"

"I followed Dillon's orders religiously for the next two years.  He barely
had pubes but he knew I was a whore for his big dick and he delighted in
humiliating me.  The kid was a sadistic little fuck, too, dreaming up all
sorts of nasty things to make me do.  He made me get a tattoo on my ass
check that says `Dillon's Ho.'  I had to wear a butt plug all night before
he fucked me in the morning.  I loved it all, the liked butt plug in
particular because it kept my pussy stretched so Dillon's big cock didn't
hurt when he rammed it in me.

"A few months into Dillon's freshman year, he bragged to his friends about
how he owned me.  When they expressed skepticism, he arranged a
demonstration, making me suck him and then fucking my ass in front of three
of his friends.  He mostly did it for status, to establish himself as a
stud and to show off his big cock.  I was happy to have every freshman in
the school know that I was a cum slut."

As Ben told the story, it occurred to me that this might have been the
first time he had relived his boarding school days and talked about what
went down.  He was eager to get it out, happy to have someone listen who
might understand.

"Mr. Connors, the teacher that fucked me in the inner tube that night in
the woods was the guy I really wanted, however," Ben continued.  "I would
have loved it if he had kept me after class, disciplined me mercilessly and
then fucked my ass.  However, despite what he had done that night in the
woods, Connors was careful never to abuse his authority over the boarders.
I did all sorts of things to try to set up a situation where he would
relent, but he never took the bait.

"In desperation, I resorted to honesty and a blatant appeal.  I went to
Connors's office late one night and told him I knew what he had done in the
woods and had loved it, but I would never tell anyone about it.  I came
right out and said I really, really wanted to have sex with him and his
friends again.  I basically begged him to fuck me.  Connors probably
thought it was a sting and he was being set up.  He put me off, said no,
and went out of his way to ignore me.  He finally relented during a holiday
weekend, but only when, rather than going into town with my friends, I
showed up at his house unannounced and wearing the most provocative outfit
I had.

"After that weekend, I spent every Saturday night with Connors.  He usually
hosted his friends, and they played cards or watched sports or movies.  I
insisted on being naked the entire time and fetching drinks and food for
the men.  One-by-one the men would take me into the bedroom and fuck my
holes. For my graduation, they gave me what I really wanted – two
back-to-back double fucks."

Ben's story of his wild boarding school days was a little shocking.  Not
that I hadn't fucked plenty during high school, but my experiences with sex
growing up were the exact opposite of Ben's.  The difference was more than
just me being a top and Ben being a bottom.  I always felt I could walk
away from my sexual shenanigans whenever I wanted, not that I had ever
wanted to.  I wasn't certain about Ben.  He seemed obsessed in an
uncontrolled way.

Ben continued his story, turning to his college years.  College was an
excuse for Ben to really let loose.  As a freshman, Ben whored continually,
but college dick wasn't what he craved and he began giving his ass to older
men, who were only too happy to fuck a built college freshman.  Halfway
through the year he met a policeman and fell in love.  At least Ben was in
love; reading between the lines, it didn't sound like the policeman was.
When the man got killed in an accident early the next year, Ben went off
the deep end, slutting around in spectacular fashion until the first of his
bouts with anal fissures.

The story of Ben's anal tears sounded like he followed a similar path as
the kid from MIT.  As Ben went into details, I kept thinking that Ben was
in love with his father.  He searched for older, daddy types.
Unfortunately, after his boarding school teacher and the policeman, Ben's
taste in men had turned toward bad actors.  He went through a procession of
men who were drunks, drug addicts or abusive – or all three.

Judging from Ben's current conduct – sucking off any cowboy at Marco's
that wanted to get his rocks off – I wasn't too sure about the optimism
Jake had expressed the night at his house that Ben would be alright.  "How
much does your dad know?" I asked.

Ben looked at me and said, "God, don't tell him!  He knows I'm gay.  He
knows about the arrests, obviously.  He doesn't know about my boarding
school teacher or the stints in the emergency room getting my ass sewn up.
He never met any of the guys I dated in college.  He probably thinks they
were college kids.  And he doesn't know I'm the resident cocksucker of Big
Sky Country."

How long would it take for Jake to hear about Ben's exploits at Marco's?
It wasn't like rural Montana was New York City, where everybody is a
stranger.  In Montana, at least around Westcliffe, everybody knew one
another.  Jake was practically a God in the area, so maybe people were
reluctant to say anything to him, but that would last only until the next
cowboy got drunk.

Ben continued to talk and the waitress brought me another beer, even though
I hadn't ordered it.  I wasn't certain why – beyond loneliness perhaps –
Ben was spilling his guts to me when I was virtually a complete stranger.
Maybe it was because Ben felt like an outsider and I looked like an
outsider.  Ben knew I understood things he had experienced in college
because I had been at an east coast college, too, just last year.  Likely
all it took to make Ben feel comfortable with me was that I knew what an
anal fissure was and I didn't react with horror to his description of
getting his ass `sewn up' – as he put it.  I had become Ben's first
confidant in a long time, maybe forever.  A month ago he might not have
been ready to talk.  But he was now.

Ben described how Jake was urging him to move to Chicago or Seattle or
Denver to get a fresh start.  Ben loved Denver, but he laughed about his
dad's suggestion of the city.  Unknown to his father, in college Ben spent
six months flying to Denver every second or third weekend, at the behest of
one of his former lovers.  The visits were to film gay porn for a producer
in Denver specializing in college men.

Unlike most of the young men fucking for the cameras at the Denver studio,
Ben actually was in college.  And unlike most of the actors, who were in it
for the money, Ben did it because Ben's lover got off on having a porn star
boyfriend.  The man loved seeing other men pound Ben's ass almost more than
he liked doing it himself.  During his porn days, Ben had dyed his hair
blond and had shaved his body, so the current Ben's resemblance to the porn
star `Danny' wasn't immediately obvious.  But internet porn was a ticking
time bomb.  Eventually someone would make the connection and Jake would
know everything.

Several of the porn stars had settled in Denver, and Ben knew that if he
moved to Denver, it would only be a matter of time before he ran into one
of his former fuck partners who would be only too happy to put Ben's legs
in the air again.  And Ben admitted it likely wouldn't be long before he
succumbed to the lure of filming porn and escorting on the side.

I began to reconsider my suspicion that Ben was in love with his father.
Ben wanted an authority figure, but maybe not Jake.  Ben wouldn't follow
Jake's every command, but he would follow other men.  Ben had done exactly
that since he came out, and had done it repeatedly.  Plain and simple, Ben
was a born sub, looking for a dom.  The more I thought about it, the more
obvious it became.

Being Ben's dom wasn't a job for me.  I didn't have the patience I would
need to train Ben as a sub.  Hell, I didn't have the patience to train any
sub, and Ben would need work.  I was younger than most doms, and while that
wouldn't be a problem, it wasn't ideal.  More telling was simply where we
were.  Living at Westcliffe, with its small town atmosphere and my office
being down the hallway from Jake's, made any thought of my involvement a
nonstarter.  Plain and simple, I didn't want the assignment.

But I had a perfect solution.  The more I thought about it, it was superb.
I set my plan in motion.

"Look," I said, turning suddenly from the patient listener to the authority
figure Ben wanted.  "I've heard what you want, and I'm going to tell you
exactly what to do.  Listen carefully.  Your dad is right about one thing.
You need a fresh start and I'll give it you.  To start, you'll move to
Chicago.  Get the hell out of here, now.  Pack tonight and leave tomorrow
morning.  Tell your dad you're taking his advice.  Don't tell him you and I
spoke.  Driving from here to Chicago is 1,600 miles.  I want you there in
three days.  No sucking cock or fucking on the road.  You'll be on best
behavior.  When you reach Chicago, you'll text me for further instructions.
In fact, you'll text me every morning and every night on the road and in
Chicago until I tell you not to.  Give me your phone."

Ben's eyes were wide, but he had a look of curiosity and excitement.  I
sent a text from his phone to mine to start a chain.  This better work, I
thought.  But I was confident.  "Any questions?" I asked.

Any sane person would have had reams of questions.  Admittedly, Ben was
drunk and drugged.  He looked into my eyes and said, "What will I do in
Chicago?"

I said, "You'll do exactly what I tell you to do.  Until I give you
instructions, don't worry about what you'll do.  The only thing in your
plans now is driving to Chicago.  Nothing more until I say.  Understand?"
Ben frowned.

I paused a long minute and asked, "Do you trust me, Ben?"  What I had
planned for Ben wasn't going to work if he didn't blindly trust me.  And,
more importantly, didn't blindly trust the man to whom I would deliver Ben.

"Yes..." Ben said slowly, "I do."  He sounded surprised to hear himself say
it, but once he said it, I could see he was embracing it.  Maybe his
father's endorsement of my brains the first night we met tipped the scales.
Regardless, my plan was unfolding.

"Good," I said.  "It's important that you trust me, and if you do, I will
give you a pathway out of where you're at.  I'll get you to a much happier
place."

"I trust you," Ben said, nodding.  Then he laughed, the first time I had
seen him give me more than a wry smile all night long.  When his face lit
up, he looked 10 years younger than the haggard man that had stepped out of
the rest room.  "What the fuck do I have to lose?" he said.  Ben didn't
know it, but he would lose a lot, although he would gain a lot, too.

I wanted to make sure Ben was okay to drive home, so I walked him to the
door.  Fortunately, he was much better than when he stumbled from the rest
room.  I watched his silver Porsche 911 disappear into the Montana night,
wondering what had come over me.  A hot guy had offered me a blow job or a
fuck and I had turned him down.  And I was horny!  I had just let the
hottest ass I had seen for weeks drive away without my cock having seeded
it.  It would have been easier to breed Ben than falling off a rock.  What
had come over me?  I told myself I only let Ben escape because he was
Jake's son.  Was that totally it?

I called JJ in Chicago.  Damn, if JJ ever found out that I hadn't fucked
Ben, I would never live it down.  "JJ, bro, too late to talk?" I asked.

"Nah," I heard JJ's husky voice.  "Never for you.  Where the hell you
been?"

"Montana," I said.  JJ would never understand my choosing a place like
Montana for academic reasons, so I didn't bother to explain.

"Fuck, can you see Russia from there?" JJ cracked.  With JJ, I could never
be sure whether he was joking or serious.  I ignored the question.

"JJ, I'm sending you a boy," I said.  Ben was hardly a boy, but to JJ,
anyone under 35 was a boy.  "He should be there in three days.  He might
not show, but I think he will.  He's raw, but ready, with a ton of
potential."

"Really?" JJ replied. I could tell he was intrigued.  "Might be good
timing.  I'm looking for a new project."

JJ's projects were raw subs needing to be trained.  JJ was flat out the
best dom I knew.  He could dominate a man with the strength of his
personality, although being a 6'8" black man with 250 pounds of muscle
meant he could dominate men physically whenever he wanted.  He delighted in
training subs, watching them develop, bringing out the best in them.  A sub
trained by JJ was top quality.  JJ had the care and attention to detail I
would never have.  He had been at it for 30 years.  Hell, JJ had been
training subs before Ben and I had even been born.

JJ's response left me relieved that I wasn't sending Ben into a dead end in
Chicago.  "By the way, JJ, he's white," I added.

"I'm used to it," JJ sighed.  I closed the call and returned to Marco's to
finish my beer and pay the check.

Lost in thought about Ben and wondering how Chicago would work out for him,
I looked up to find a young man giving me a long, lingering stare.  He was
drinking a beer a couple of tables away.  I was surprised the guy was still
there, given how long it had been since he sat down, halfway through my
long conversation with Ben.  The guy gave me a shy smile as I glanced at
him.  Either he was fascinated by a tall black man with dreadlocks drinking
in a Montana cowboy bar, or he was cruising me.  The minimal odds of being
cruised in a straight roadside bar in Montana made that explanation
fanciful.  Still...

					* * *

I eventually got my blow job from Ben and fucked his ass during a trip to
Chicago.  Ben was living in JJ's old Victorian mansion on the South Side.
When I arrived, he was naked, wearing a thick dog collar along with leather
wrist and ankle cuffs.  His junk was locked in a chastity cage.  Ben's blue
eyes, which had had a fevered look that night in Marco's, were calm and
serene.  His body was incredible – that's what a rigid diet and forced
workouts can do – but it was completely smooth below his head.  On some
men smooth is hot, although it isn't a look I necessarily favor for
everyone.  However, JJ maintained that requiring his subs shave everything
each day was important as a matter of discipline and a visual reminder of
their status.  JJ had even shaved Ben's head at first, but as a reward for
good behavior, JJ let Ben's thick brown hair grow back.

Ben had worked his way into being a top construction engineer at a big firm
downtown, a result that pleased Jake to no end.  JJ's enforced discipline
meant Ben got to work early, was focused and intent all day, and stayed
late or went the extra mile when necessary.  He was consistently polite and
cooperative, and got rave reviews from his supervisors.  JJ knew how to
dress Ben – in custom made suits and shirts that highlighted his
muscular body – so that Ben oozed sex without it being tacky.  Neither
women nor men could look at him without thinking, `damn, what a stud.'

But the reality was far different.  Ben didn't socialize after work,
instead going directly to JJ's house, stripping off his work clothes,
getting on his knees, respectfully asking JJ to lock his collar in place,
and spending the rest of the night doing whatever JJ commanded.  Ben hadn't
had a drop of alcohol since the night at Marco's. From the looks of his
body, he hadn't enjoyed much sugar or fat, either.

Ben was every bit the cocksucker his dad was, deep-throating my long,
thick, black meat with apparent ease.  After he eagerly vacuumed a load
from my balls, he got on all fours, his back in the perfect reverse arch
and his ass sticking up in the air as an open invitation for me to fuck
him.  The small tattoo that read `Dillon's Ho' was still visible on his ass
cheek.  Damn!  Watching a sub trained by JJ was a thing of beauty.

Whether the father or the son was the better fuck was a close question.  I
probably leaned slightly toward Jake because of his furry, masculine chest,
his rugged, weathered face, and his presence in a room – he was the man
everybody instinctively looked to.  But damn, JJ had taught Ben how to use
his ass in ways that were amazing, and Ben treated every fuck as if it was
preparation for a final exam JJ would administer.  Jake had taken my cock
warily.  Ben took it like he had lived his whole life just for the moments
I would be inside him.

As JJ and I sipped drinks after I had seeded Ben's ass with a couple of
loads, JJ asked, "I still don't get where you found this boy.  Where the
fuck's Montana?  He's one of the best I've ever trained.  They got any more
ranch boys in Montana?  I'm going to need me another project, `cuz this one
is sold.  Nice dom on the North Shore wants a new sub and likes Ben.  Hell,
all of my customers like him."  Ben sat placidly on the floor, watching JJ
closely for any hint of a command or order, with a peaceful look on his
face.  Ben had exactly what he had hungered for.

As I left JJ's house that night, Ben thanked me, telling me that he would
always be grateful and would remember the night in Marco's as the beginning
of his life.  His eyes were misty.

A few months after Ben moved to Chicago, Jake pulled me aside in the
faculty office building and said, "I want to thank you, Dillinger.  For
Ben.  I found out you convinced him to go to Chicago and helped get him
settled.  I can't tell you how grateful I am.  The kid was headed nowhere
and all at once he's the man I always hoped he would become."  I bit my
lip, picturing Ben as I had seen him the night I fucked him at JJ's.  Naked
and collared, his body shaved, a chastity cage on his cock, his ass
sticking in the air.  I doubted that was the man Jake was envisioning.

"I was just at the right spot at the right time," I said.

"Don't be modest," Jake said.  "You're a remarkable young man.  Not only am
I thankful for what you did for Ben, but you're also responsible for the
most memorable night of my life.  I've never met a man like you, but I'm
certainly happy you found your way to Westcliffe."

In truth, I was, too.



TO BE CONTINUED...

I would love to hear whether you liked the story.  Coltonaalto@gmail.com

Chapter Fourteen will hopefully be up in another week or so, and picks up
in Marco's where Chapter Thirteen leaves off.


© Copyright Colton Aalto 2015