Date: Sat, 5 Mar 2016 12:10:19 +0200
From: Ben Coolen <bencoolen1212@gmail.com>
Subject: Senior Towel Boy Part 4

The Senior Towelboy

By Ben C.

This story contains sexual acts (domination, humiliation, oral,
masturbation) between young males.

If you don't like it, or it is illegal in your country or state, please
stop reading.

Please keep in mind that Nifty needs our donations to keep this great free
service running.

Thanks for all the comments!

And thanks to DeeCee Uk for the Italian translation!


In case you are interested, here is a list of my other stories:

http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/game-sessions/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/scottys-tailor/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/hosting-skater-dudes/
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/highschool/the-senior-towel-boy/



Chapter 4

-----

"Vince, please, I can't walk back to my car looking like this. Please give
me a ride, I've got cum all over my face."

He climbed in, started the engine and leaned out of the open side window. He
winked at me – the ever-mischievous Vince.

"Can't risk being seen with a fag," he said and drove off.

-----


I made it to my car; walking as fast as I could, but trying not to draw
attention in the deserted strip mall. I had almost reached my destination,
when a car full of rowdy teenagers passed me. The car slowed to a crawl so
that the kids could scream insults at me, and one of them threw an empty
beer can that missed my head by a couple of inches.

Luckily the next day was Saturday, and I was able to recover from the
previous day's ordeals by spending some quality time at the mall. I burned
a couple of grand in the Gucci and Armani boutiques, and relaxed afterwards
at our swimming pool, enjoying drinks and snacks served by our staff. On
Sunday we had an informal lunch at our Country Club – the oysters were
superb but the foie de gras was nothing to write home about – and I played
some golf with my friends. On Monday I was able to go to school refreshed
and in good spirits. Unfortunately, my spirits were ruined when I got home.

I drove up our driveway when I saw something very unusual. A pizza van was
parked in front of our main entrance. And not just any pizza van; it
belonged to Gino's family. I parked my Porsche in a far corner of the
parking lot and waited nervously, not knowing what to expect. I knew by
instinct that it probably meant nothing good for me. One thing was certain:
my parents would never order something they considered little peoples'
food, and pizza belonged to that despicable category. It was a regular joke
in my family, repeated every time my Mom and Dad pondered what to have for
dinner. Someone would say, 'let's order some pizza' and we'd all laugh at
the idea of my parents munching pizza slices, dressed for dinner, at our
mahogany dining table.

I didn't have to wait too long. The front door opened, and out stepped
Gino, dressed in a black jacket, white shirt and beige slacks. His normally
unruly long hair was tied into a neat ponytail. My father came out too and
put his hand on Gino's shoulder, obviously discussing about something
important with him. Then my Dad smiled and shook Gino's hand. Gino said
something to him, and they both laughed, and waved final goodbyes. Then
Gino started his van and drove away.

What the hell could that be about? I was too scared to ask my Dad, so I
waited a couple of minutes before slipping inside. After half an hour the
intercom buzzed in my room – yes, we use intercoms to communicate in the
huge house – and my Father's hard voice boomed from the speaker.

"Ray, you home?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Come to my study."

When my Dad tells someone to come over, he doesn't tolerate any delays, so
I combed my hair and climbed to his third floor office. I knocked the
massive door and entered his huge study. There was a long conference table
for board meetings, and some nice leather armchairs around a coffee table
for more relaxed discussions. But the most impressive part of the room was
Dad's twelve feet wide work desk and the mighty high black chair that only
he was allowed to occupy. As usual, there were no papers on his desk; he
had staff to take care things like that.

"Sit down," he grunted and pointed at one of the two chairs in front of his
desk. So, we were not going to have an informal father-and-son chat at the
coffee corner this time.

The chairs for visitors and employees in front of my Dad's desk were
decidedly small and uncomfortable; no one was expected to enjoy sitting
there, and even the tallest visitor had to look up to face my Dad's hard
eyes.

I sat down and squeezed the metal armrests of the chair nervously with my
sweating hands, not knowing what to expect. Dad went right into business,
as always. He wasn't into niceties.

"Coach Bennett called. He isn't happy about your behavior, Raymond."

Raymond. That was ominous.

"Dad, I... I can explain everything..."

That made my Dad freak out. He smashed his palm on the desk with a loud
bang that echoed in the huge room.

"Dancing under the shower fully clothed to entertain some snotty brats?
Somebody told the Coach you even offered to wash a guy's damned legs! Are
you out of your fucking mind, boy?" he bellowed.

Tears welled up in my eyes. This wasn't fair!

"I didn't believe any of these stories at first, so Bennett suggested that
I have a word with the captain of the team. The Coach told me that Gino is
a very capable and fair-minded young leader, so I invited him here. I
wanted  to get a second opinion about you without the Coach being present."

He paused, looking at his hands for a while. Then he looked right into my
eyes.

"I liked him immediately. Gino is just like the son I always wished I had."

That was too much. I felt tears running down my cheeks.

"Dad," I sobbed, but that only made him more angry.

"For chrissake, Ray! Try to get hold of yourself and act like a man and not
like some damned faggot," he yelled.

If he would've known the truth about the faggot thing...

"Gino pretty much confirmed what the Coach told me. Being your friend, he
tried to defend you, of course, and that made me respect him even more. But
I could see that he did it with reluctance. Finally he admitted that he was
ashamed of your behavior, and he is worried that you set a bad example for
some of the younger boys in the team."

"But Dad, they made me..." I tried to keep my voice steady, but failed
miserably.

"Shut up!"

"I'll give you one more chance, Ray. But it's the last one. If you screw up
this one, that's it. You'll move out of my house. No car, no credit card,
no phone."

I wasn't able to say anything; I was afraid that I would start crying like
a baby.

But Dad wasn't finished.

"It is clear to me now that I have miserably failed with you as a father.
That's why I made an agreement with Gino. I hired him to take
responsibility of your upbringing outside our home. From now on, he is your
personal mentor and leader, and he works for me. I told him to be ruthless,
if necessary, and punish you if you do something stupid. And you will
follow his every request like it was an order from me. Consider Gino as
your big brother. Understand?"

I nodded slowly, horrified. I was nineteen, and my had Dad assigned me a
sixteen-year old big brother!

And my ordeal continued.

"From now on, you will ask for Gino's permission every time you intend to
leave the school premises during school day. Also, after school, if you
want to go somewhere else than home, you will get Gino's approval in
advance. If you want to go shopping, you ask for Gino's permission and tell
him what you intend to buy. If he says no, you don't buy it. To make sure
you don't try to cheat, you will hand over all your credit cards to him.
And, I gave him a certain amount of cash. If you need some pocket money,
you ask Gino. Any questions?"

I sat silent, my head bowed.

"You're dismissed."

That night I cried myself into sleep. My world had just collapsed.

But in an hour or so I was deprived of the mercy of sleep by the buzz of my
phone.

I looked at the screen. It was Gino. I was safe from the bad world in our
mansion, with all the security cameras and alarms protecting me from the
underprivileged masses, but there was no escape from Gino for me anymore. I
picked up the phone.

"Ray."

"Who?"

"It's Ray. Finocchio."

"Finocchio! Why didn't you say so?"

"Sorry, Gino."

"Well, how are you doing, faggot?"

"I'm fine, Gino," I lied.

He chuckled.

"Yeah, sure. Did you speak with your Dad?"

"Yes."

"Good. Did he tell you about our agreement?"

"Yes.  He told me."

"Okay, culattone. Take all your credit cards with you tomorrow and bring
them to me at lunch break. Understood?"

"Yes, Gino."

"Now, your upbringing starts now with a lesson in Italian. If you don't
pass the test, your credit cards will stay in my pocket for the next
month.  Are you ready?"

I sighed. I was tired and my head was aching.

"Yes, Gino."

I heard him chuckle softly in the other end. I could see his cocky grin in
my eyes.

"Gino, why are you doing this to me?"

"Because you're a rich scumbag faggot, and I hate rich scumbag faggots.
I've seen you looking down at me in school, thinking you're better than me
because your Daddy has dough. You've disrespected me and insulted my
family. And you have insulted me with your miserable tips."

"And your perfume-stinking fat Daddy is the biggest asshole in the
universe."

I gasped and he heard it. He chuckled.

"Wanna go tell Daddy I said that? Try your luck, and we'll see which one of
us he believes."

"It's my rules now, fag-boy. And I'm gonna show you your place."

"You're done that already," I said with my voice trembling.

"That's what you think. You've seen nothing yet."

"Gino, please..."

"Shut up, faggot. Now, I will teach you a couple of sentences in Italian.
You will need them every time you come to ask for money, so listen
carefully. This is how it goes."

"Gino, sono soltanto un frocio patetico. Scusami per averti rubato del
tempo prezioso. Puoi darmi qualche spicciolo?"

"Now, repeat it."

"Gino, soun sauldanne..."

He laughed.

"Fuck, you're stupid. But we'll practice until you learn this. Remember, no
shopping for a month if you flunk this. Again, frocio. "

And we practiced these phrases over and over again until I finally passed
Gino's exam at 1:30 AM.

"Okay. Go to sleep, faggot."

"But Gino, what do those words mean?"

He told me and hung up, laughing.

-----

I sat through the morning classes in a daze. My sleep had been restless,
but when I woke up I remembered what I had been dreaming about. In the
dream I was on my knees at Vince's feet again. This time the whole team was
watching and laughing at me, as I begged Vince to shoot his cum on my face
once more, but he just laughed and backed down, gradually disappearing
inside a cloud of fog. My cum-smeared pajama pants confirmed that it hadn't
been a nightmare at all.

And I remembered Gino's lesson. He would use it to humiliate me, but where
and when? I decided to make a pit stop at the ATM in the morning to make
sure I wouldn't need to go to see Gino for cash for a while.

Came lunch break, and time for me to hand over my beloved credit cards to
my recently appointed big brother. I saw Gino lounging with Vince and Seb
in a far corner of the school yard. They were eating their lunch sandwiches
at a picnic table. Seb and Vince smirked at me expectantly when I walked
over. Obviously they knew about the new circumstances. I decided to face
the music right away with the gallant attitude of a martyr thrown in with
the lions.

I took out my wallet, picked out the five credit cards I had there and
offered them to Gino without a word. He didn't reach out to take them, just
sat back, smiling that cocky teenage smile of his that I hated and desired
so much.

"Put them on the table, faggot."

I placed them on the table in front of him. He took a bite of his sandwich
and munched it for a good while. Then he sipped his soda and burped.

"Lemme see your wallet."

"Gino, my Dad said just the cards."

"And I say the wallet. I'm responsible for your upbringing now, so I've
gotta make sure my little homo isn't carrying anything that might be
harmful for his future development."

Vince and Seb snickered.

I sighed and offered him my wallet. He took it and inspected the contents.
He took out the wad of bills I had withdrawn from the ATM that morning to
survive a couple of days while I tried to figure out a plan to get back to
my comfortable old life.

Gino counted the money with a frown.

"Nine hundred bucks? That's a no-no, Finocchio. You need seven for lunch.
Add three for coffee and a donut in the afternoon."

He picked a twenty-dollar bill from the bundle and handed it to me. The
rest of the money disappeared into the side pocket of his ragged jeans.

 "This is your allowance for two days. If you need more, ask me."

I was horrified.

"Gino, please. Give me at least a hundred more. I really need it. I've got
expenses."

Gino listened to my pleading with a smug smile. Seb and Vince looked at him
expectantly.

"Well then, you know how to ask, don't you?"

"Gino, please. Not here."

"I told you the rules. No exceptions. Ask me nice. No Italian, no money.

I looked at Gino, pleading. He smiled back, knowing he had me once again.

I took a deep breath.

"Gino, sono..." but he interrupted me, pretending to be displeased.

"A-a, frocetto. Don't you have any manners? Are you really going to ask me
like that, standing in front of me like a man?"

Vince and Seb laughed. I noticed a bulge in the crotch of Vince's faded
jeans. It seemed he enjoyed very much watching me being humiliated.

Gino was going to sink me as low as any guy can ever be sunk. I sank slowly
on my knees in front of him. He nodded and I started over.

 "Gino, sono soltanto un frocio patetico. Scusami per averti rubato del
tempo prezioso. Puoi darmi qualche spicciolo?"

Gino laughed mockingly. Vince and Seb laughed too, although they didn't
understand the Italian words.

"What did the faggot say, Gino?" Seb wanted to know.

"Tell him Finocchio," Gino ordered.

"Gino, I am a pathetic..." I mumbled.

"Speak up, faggot."

I started over, this time louder.

"Gino, I am a pathetic faggot and I apologize for taking your precious
time. Please give me a little money."

The boys' hysteric laughter seemed to continue forever.

"Way to go, faggot," Seb rejoiced. He wasn't going to forget the way my Dad
had fired his Dad.

"Well done, Finocchio," Gino said and took the money bundle from his
pocket. He choose a twenty-dollar bill and showed it to me. I was horrified.

"Please Gino, I asked for a hundred."

"Yeah, that's what you asked. And this is what you're gonna get, he said
and stuffed the bill into my wallet.

He flung the wallet carelessly towards the table but it missed, and dropped
to the ground in front of Seb's scruffy Converse hi-tops. I crouched down
to take it, but Seb moved his shoe on top of it. Then he picked up the
wallet, spread it wide open and hocked a generous loogie. I watched in
horror as his slime slowly flowed down, glazing  the only money I owned in
the world.

Seb lifted the walled in front of my face and suddenly slammed the flaps
together so that his snot sprinkled all over me. Then he stood up and threw
the wallet as far away as possible. A devilish smile appeared on his
handsome face.

"Fetch, faggot!" he called out, and the boys' laughter accompanied me all
the way to the remote landing zone of my assets.


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